Read Online Waistcoats & Weaponry by Gail Carriger - Free Book Online Page B

to him. And the last thing she wanted to do was encourage her friend in a hopeless cause. His intent to turn werewolf felt near to a betrayal.
    Dimity noted Sophronia’s lack of evening jaunts, as her repository of filched sweets grew ever larger with no clandestine distribution. Dimity felt it her ladylike duty to dispense tea-cake charity unto boiler room unfortunates. “Had a falling-out with your sootie beau, have you?”
    “No,” said Sophronia shortly. “Just overly busy.”
    “Busy with what?”
    “Mastering the fan—I think I want it to be my trademark weapon. All great intelligencers have a trademark weapon.”
    “And you’re choosing the fan because it’s both sensible and cooling?” suggested Dimity.
    Agatha, who was spending time in their room as her own was lonely, perked up. “I prefer the garrote myself.”
    The others looked at her, startled. Aside from the theater, and sleeping, Agatha rarely expressed an interest in anything. Let alone something espionage related.
    “You do?” Dimity encouraged.
    Agatha nodded. “You can wear it as jewelry, it hides away easily, and it’s a nice clean death.”
    “I hate to say it, but I’m with Preshea on dealing down, poison’s best.” Dimity was firm on the matter.
    “No blood?” suggested Sophronia.
    “Exactly!” Dimity twirled the bangles about her wrist and sighed. “Enough of this morbid talk.”
    Agatha was looking at her small weekly planner. “Shouldn’t we be heading into Swiffle soon? Without Captain Niall to give you two a ride, the school will have to meet your transport itself.”
    The two girls looked at each other. “Oh, dear me yes. Depending on where exactly we are right now, it could take weeks. I hope Lady Linette hasn’t forgotten about the fact that we are due at a masquerade in a few days.”
    Sophronia agreed, “We’d best make sure.”
    They shouldn’t have underestimated their teacher. LadyLinette was, after all, a mistress of information. It was her business to keep track of details.
    During breakfast, which, since Mademoiselle Geraldine’s kept town hours, fell at around noon, the girls heard the unmistakable repetitive thudding of the school’s propeller cranking rhythmically below them. This could only mean one thing: the airship had a focused direction in mind. They were no longer gliding idly about the moor.
    Dimity and Sophronia exchanged excited glances. Mademoiselle Geraldine’s floating finishing school was heading into town.

S TEALTH M USTACHES AND S TEALTHIER F LYWAYMEN
    T he school arrived at Swiffle-on-Exe late the following evening. It floated in over the River Exe itself, to take on water for the massive boilers in engineering. Then it took up its customary position, moored outside town, the mismatched turrets of Bunson and Lacroix’s Boys’ Polytechnique in view down a goat path.
    Sophronia and Dimity were to depart early the next morning. They were excused from their last lesson of the night with Professor Braithwope, the idea being that they should get to bed before midnight. They tried to explain this to the vampire, who regarded them with a sobering eye, almost like his old self. The effect was lost, however, by the fact that he had taken it into his addlepated head to shave off his mustache.
    Professor Braithwope’s mustache, which he must have had as a mortal before he was metamorphosed into a vampire, was a tiny caterpillar-like object that perched upon his upper lipwith an air of great uncertainty, like an amateur diver. This seemed to trouble the professor of late, for he would sporadically attempt to rid himself of the fuzzy protuberance. Since he was immortal, this did not work, for the moment the razor was put away his mustache grew back to its exact former state.
    Sometimes, like tonight, he’d only managed to shave halfway before getting distracted, so the mustache looked as if it had lost its purchase at last and slid dangerously to the side and was trying, before their very