Read Online A Study in Ashes by Emma Jane Holloway - Free Book Online
Authors: Emma Jane Holloway
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Witherton House.
She raised a hand to shelter her eyes from the low angle of the sun and was rewarded with the sight of a familiar formapproaching with a newspaper clutched in one pearl-edged glove. The young woman’s skirts were patterned with orange and red chrysanthemums, her fitted jacket a burnt umber that nearly matched the shade of her thick hair. The ensemble gave her the air of a harvest sprite.
With a dramatic sigh, Deirdre Livingston flung herself onto the bench beside Evelina and thrust out the newspaper. “I need you, my darling girl.”
“Oh, do you?” Evelina unfolded the special edition. It was the Prattler , one of the more outspoken of the London papers—not the sort of thing Deirdre would normally read. The first article that caught her eye concerned a cholera outbreak. Clean water was something else the steam barons were trying to charge for, and disease was the inevitable result.
“This is an academic emergency,” Deirdre said in a stage whisper, a tiny frown bunching her eyebrows.
Evelina hid a smile. “I thought you’d charmed your way to a passing grade in French literature.”
“ Bien sûr . This is far more urgent. I’m about to go walking with Mr. Edward Pringle, and he’s all about Parliament. I need to give the impression that I read more than the fashion papers.”
“But you don’t.”
“You don’t know that.” Deirdre tried to sound scandalized and almost succeeded.
“Your room is across the hall from mine. I think I would know if you actually read something.”
“How?”
“Because you wouldn’t be knocking on my door at a quarter to midnight just before each and every exam.”
Deirdre snatched the paper and folded it to the article she wanted. “Give a girl a chance, Cooper. We can’t all be dedicated to our studies. Some of us are here for husbands.”
“I admire the clarity of your focus.”
Deirdre held up the paper, pointing to a headline. “Tell me about this.”
Evelina read the type held inches from her eyeballs. Thenalarm rippled up her spine and she sat straighter. “Good heavens!”
“Exactly,” said Deirdre. “The prince is ill. That’s all Edward is going to want to talk about. I need to know what to say.”
“The crown prince is the heir to the whole Empire!”
“I knew that much.” Deirdre smoothed her skirts, her chocolate silk gloves gliding over the autumn-colored pattern. “Who would the crown go to if he didn’t recover?”
It was a good question. Although Victoria and Albert had begun with a houseful of children, their brood had dwindled one by one. Some had been carried off by typhoid, others by the bleeding sickness, and still others by circumstances none could understand. It was almost as if a curse stalked the palace, seizing each of the heirs in turn.
Foreboding chilled Evelina like a sudden breeze. “If the crown prince dies, I’m not sure who would succeed the queen. There are relatives of the royal family still in Germany, but I am not sure who has precedence.”
“So what does this mean for the government?” Not that Deirdre actually cared, but Edward Pringle would.
Evelina set the paper aside. For a moment, she was back at the Wollaston Academy for Young Ladies, whispering about boys with Imogen. Memory hit her like strong drink, leaving her dizzy. Wollaston had been a hundred years ago, before the air battle and Keating and losing Nick. It wasn’t fair, but she almost resented Deirdre for not being Imogen.
Evelina drew a ragged breath, forcing herself back to the present. She actually liked her classmate very much, and tried to get into the spirit of her matrimonial chase. But during the last year of danger and tragedy, Evelina had lost her light heart. As a result, she tended to remain aloof from the other students, feeling more like a ghost than one of the young, boisterous crowd.
She tried to smile. “Well, Mr. Pringle will say that there is the Steam Council to consider. For the sake of the royal
She raised a hand to shelter her eyes from the low angle of the sun and was rewarded with the sight of a familiar formapproaching with a newspaper clutched in one pearl-edged glove. The young woman’s skirts were patterned with orange and red chrysanthemums, her fitted jacket a burnt umber that nearly matched the shade of her thick hair. The ensemble gave her the air of a harvest sprite.
With a dramatic sigh, Deirdre Livingston flung herself onto the bench beside Evelina and thrust out the newspaper. “I need you, my darling girl.”
“Oh, do you?” Evelina unfolded the special edition. It was the Prattler , one of the more outspoken of the London papers—not the sort of thing Deirdre would normally read. The first article that caught her eye concerned a cholera outbreak. Clean water was something else the steam barons were trying to charge for, and disease was the inevitable result.
“This is an academic emergency,” Deirdre said in a stage whisper, a tiny frown bunching her eyebrows.
Evelina hid a smile. “I thought you’d charmed your way to a passing grade in French literature.”
“ Bien sûr . This is far more urgent. I’m about to go walking with Mr. Edward Pringle, and he’s all about Parliament. I need to give the impression that I read more than the fashion papers.”
“But you don’t.”
“You don’t know that.” Deirdre tried to sound scandalized and almost succeeded.
“Your room is across the hall from mine. I think I would know if you actually read something.”
“How?”
“Because you wouldn’t be knocking on my door at a quarter to midnight just before each and every exam.”
Deirdre snatched the paper and folded it to the article she wanted. “Give a girl a chance, Cooper. We can’t all be dedicated to our studies. Some of us are here for husbands.”
“I admire the clarity of your focus.”
Deirdre held up the paper, pointing to a headline. “Tell me about this.”
Evelina read the type held inches from her eyeballs. Thenalarm rippled up her spine and she sat straighter. “Good heavens!”
“Exactly,” said Deirdre. “The prince is ill. That’s all Edward is going to want to talk about. I need to know what to say.”
“The crown prince is the heir to the whole Empire!”
“I knew that much.” Deirdre smoothed her skirts, her chocolate silk gloves gliding over the autumn-colored pattern. “Who would the crown go to if he didn’t recover?”
It was a good question. Although Victoria and Albert had begun with a houseful of children, their brood had dwindled one by one. Some had been carried off by typhoid, others by the bleeding sickness, and still others by circumstances none could understand. It was almost as if a curse stalked the palace, seizing each of the heirs in turn.
Foreboding chilled Evelina like a sudden breeze. “If the crown prince dies, I’m not sure who would succeed the queen. There are relatives of the royal family still in Germany, but I am not sure who has precedence.”
“So what does this mean for the government?” Not that Deirdre actually cared, but Edward Pringle would.
Evelina set the paper aside. For a moment, she was back at the Wollaston Academy for Young Ladies, whispering about boys with Imogen. Memory hit her like strong drink, leaving her dizzy. Wollaston had been a hundred years ago, before the air battle and Keating and losing Nick. It wasn’t fair, but she almost resented Deirdre for not being Imogen.
Evelina drew a ragged breath, forcing herself back to the present. She actually liked her classmate very much, and tried to get into the spirit of her matrimonial chase. But during the last year of danger and tragedy, Evelina had lost her light heart. As a result, she tended to remain aloof from the other students, feeling more like a ghost than one of the young, boisterous crowd.
She tried to smile. “Well, Mr. Pringle will say that there is the Steam Council to consider. For the sake of the royal
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