haven’t actually tried to enter. Not since Pippa.”
Felicity’s glare could shatter glass. "You lied to us.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready.”
“You could have said as much,” Ann mutters, hurt.
“I
am
sorry. I thought it best.”
Felicity’s gray eyes are like the sharpest flint. "Do not lie to us again, Gemma. It will be a betrayal of the Order.”
I don’t like the way she says this, but I’m in no mood to argue now. I nod and reach for the brandy.
“When shall we go into the realms?” Ann asks.
“Shall we meet at midnight?” Felicity half begs. "Oh, I cannot wait to see it all again!”
“I’m in no condition tonight,” I say. They can hardly argue with that.
“Very well, then,” Felicity says, sighing. "Rest.”
“What is it?” Ann asks, reading my expression.
“It’s probably nothing, really. I was just thinking that the last thing I remember before falling under was Miss McCleethy’s face. She was looking at me in the most curious way, as if she knew all my secrets.”
A devilish grin lights up Felicity’s full mouth. "You mean the fairrr but exacting Miss McCleethy,” she says, imitating our new teacher’s strange brogue. This makes me laugh in spite of everything.
“If she’s an old friend of Nightwing’s, she’s doubtless a hideous prig who will make our lives a misery,” I say, still giggling.
“I am glad to see that you seem in better spirits, Miss Doyle.” It’s Miss McCleethy herself at my door. My heart falls through the floor of my stomach. Oh, no. How long has she been standing there?
“I’m feeling much better, thank you,” I say in a squeak of a voice.
I am almost certain she’s overheard everything, for she holds my gaze a moment too long, till I’m forced to look away, and then she says simply, without any enthusiasm, “Well, I am glad to hear it. You should take some exercise. Exercise is the key. Tomorrow I shall take all my girls out to the lawn for archery.”
“What a splendid idea! I cannot wait to begin,” Felicity says too brightly, hoping to cover any overheard unpleasantness with a fresh coat of charm.
“Have you some experience with the bow and arrow, Miss Worthington?”
“A trifling amount,” Felicity demurs. In truth, she is excellent.
“How marvelous. I’d wager you ladies have all manner of surprises ready for me.” A curious half smile tugs at the corners of Miss McCleethy’s taut mouth. “I look forward to our becoming friends. My previous pupils have found me to be rather jovial, despite my reputation as a hideous prig.”
She’s heard everything. We’re done for. She shall hate us forever. No, she shall hate me forever.
Jolly good start,
Gemma. Bravo.
Miss McCleethy inspects my desk, lifting my few belongings there—the ivory elephant from India, my hairbrush—for closer examination. “Lillian—Mrs. Nightwing has told me of your unfortunate involvement with your former teacher Miss Moore. I am sorry to hear that she misused your trust so.”
She gives us that penetrating stare again. “I am not Miss Moore. There will be no stories, no impropriety. I will not tolerate disruption in the ranks. We shall follow the letter of the law and be the better for it.” She takes in our pale faces. “Oh, come now, you all look as if I’ve sentenced you to the guillotine!”
She attempts a laugh. It is not winning or warm. "Now, I do believe we should allow Miss Doyle to rest. They’re serving eggnog in the parlor. Come and tell me of yourselves and let’s be good friends, hmmm?”
Like a great bird spreading her gray wings, she puts her hands on Felicity’s and Ann’s backs, ushering them toward the door. I’m left to suffer the curse alone.
“Good night, Gemma,” Ann says.
“Yes, good night,” Fee echoes.
“Good night, Miss Doyle. Sleep well,” Miss McCleethy adds. “Tomorrow dawns ere we know it.”
“I’m sorry I shall miss the archery,” I say.
Miss McCleethy turns back.
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