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Curtsies & Conspiracies

“That,” said Sophronia, “is the question.”

A set of birdlike whistling noises floated into the air, the sootie version of a proximity alarm. The boys assembled to watch Dimity’s duel shuffled about uncomfortably and look over at Soap for direction. It was not unlike a group of pigeons disturbed by the presence of a partridge in their midst.

“Oh, ho, what’s going on here?” said a cultured male voice.

Felix Mersey slouched up, as if he always wandered the boiler rooms of floating girls’ seminaries. He was dusty with coal, having obviously climbed in from the outer hull through the hatch.

Sophronia’s first thought was: Oh, dear, he’s figured out how to get around the ship. Her second was: Thank goodness I wore a dress this evening. Her third was: Life probably would have stayed easier had Felix and Soap never met.

At an almost imperceptible hand signal from the taller boy, the young lord found himself surrounded by sooties, none of whom looked pleased to see him. Vieve melted into the shadows. Dimity came to stand with Sophronia.

Soap straightened, put down his primer, and walked over to the viscount. Felix Mersey might be the cream of the aristocracy, but in the boiler room Soap was undisputed king—grimy empire though it might be.

Felix was not impressed. “Who are you, darkie? And what are you doing with a guidance valve?”

Sophronia didn’t like anyone disrespecting Soap. But even while battling anger, she filed Felix’s comment away: the mini-prototype was called a guidance valve. She jerked forward to take back the guidance valve and show her allegiance to Soap.

Dimity held her back. Her friend was remarkably strong for such an innocent-looking creature. “My dear, we’d best let them deal with this in their own way.”

“But—”

“This is not a matter for ladies.” Dimity considered. “Or even intelligencers.”

“Oh, but I—” protested Sophronia.

“No, dear, no.”

Soap smiled his big, wide, welcoming grin at Felix. For once, it did not look friendly. “Ah, now, little lordling, you’re in our world. I’m thinking a bit of politeness might be in order.”

“To commoners? I think not.”

“We can boost you right back out that hatch you came in.”

“Hardly sporting. There’s plenty more of you scrappers than there is me.”

“Ah, yes, but if you’re going about not treating us as gentlemen, we don’t have to behave like ’em, do we?”

“As if you knew how.”

Soap made a perfect bow, precisely the kind due to a viscount. “How do you do? The name is Phineas B. Crow.”

Goodness, if Soap didn’t sound exactly as if he were a gentleman. He’s been practicing the accent. Sophronia wondered where he’d learned it in the first place.

Shocked into an instinctual reaction, Felix bowed back. “Felix Golborne, Viscount Mersey.”

“Lord Mersey, I’ve heard of you.” Soap looked over to where Sophronia skulked.

And he knows how to shorten the name of an aristocrat as well?

“Funny,” said Felix, watching Soap’s gaze rest on Sophronia, “but I hadn’t heard of you.”

“Some of us know how to keep secrets.” With that, Soap ostentatiously returned the valve to Sophronia.

Felix colored. So he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone it’s a guidance valve? Or is he embarrassed to catch Soap and me on terms of any intimacy?

“Be careful,” whispered Sophronia to Soap.

The sootie winked and turned back to Felix.

The boys squared off. Felix stood about half a head shorter than Soap, but then most people did. His clothes fit him perfectly, while Soap seemed to have been shoveled badly into his, with wrists and ankles sticking out.

“What can we possibly do for you, Lord Mersey?” asked Soap.

“I have no business with you.”

“Good thing, too. We have enough bother keeping this ship afloat. We don’t have time to pander to layabout toffs when there’s real work to do.”

Felix ignored this. “I wanted to look in on Miss Temminnick.”

Soap said, “Well, she has had a number of unwelcome visitors this evening.”

“Oh, has she indeed?”

Soap declined to elaborate. As Felix had voiced his interest outright, the taller boy could not delay him further.

“Miss Sophronia,” he said, “you have a visitor,” as if her were her butler. “This boy wants to see you.” He said it as though Felix were years his junior.

Felix turned the full force of his charm on Sophronia, presenting the back of an impeccable frock coat to Soap. “It is an odd place for us to meet, Ria, my dove.”

Soap tensed.

Sophronia supposed she must play the game. “Very well, my lord, why tarry here at all? Your waistcoat will be smudged and your cravat gone gray; how will you survive such travesties?”

“For the pleasure of your glorious company, I should suffer a thousand smudges.”

“Do they always talk like this?” Soap asked Dimity, loudly.

“Pretty much.”

“It’s revolting.”

“I shouldn’t let it worry you, Mr. Soap. She’s only practicing.”

Sophronia looked away from Felix. “And he’s only playacting. Training to be a rake and toying with my poor, weak heart.” But even as she said it, she was forced to face up to the fact that this was probably a lie. Felix was interested in courting her. He’d made no illusions otherwise. And so, unfortunately, was Soap. What a pickle. Maybe if I ignore their overtures, the messiness will go away?

“Oh, now, Ria, you malign me. I’m as honest as a rose garden is beautiful.”

“And as full of dung,” replied Sophronia without missing a beat.

Dimity said appreciatively, “Such language.”

Soap was looking equal parts impressed and disturbed by this banter. He added, “Aside which, don’t you know, Lord Mersey, Miss Sophronia doesn’t have a heart?”

Sophronia didn’t show it, but the remark stung. She was very fond of Soap. She didn’t want him to think her cold. She said to Felix, “My lord, how did you follow me?”

Felix didn’t answer, which was reason enough to be wary. He’s only an evil genius in training. He shouldn’t be able to track me, a prospective intelligencer.

“I need to know, my lord. It could cost me my life some day.”

Vieve stepped out of the shadows. “My fault again, I’m afraid,” she said, looking cheeky. “I told him how to climb and where to go, then left the climbing and the going to him.”

“Goodness, why?”

“He’s going to put a word in with the headmaster of Bunson’s for me.”

“What?” Sophronia was confused.

“Young Master Lefoux and I have struck a bargain,” said Felix. “I’ll campaign for his admittance to Bunson’s, and he’d tell me were you went each evening.”

Sophronia digested the fact that Felix, evidently, didn’t know that Vieve was female. She contemplated revealing this to him out of spite, but Vieve must have good reason for betraying Sophronia’s whereabouts. It was best to keep information as ammunition for when it might become useful and not squander it on revenge. And, in the end, there was no real harm done in Felix following her.

One question did remain. “How did you know I went anywhere of an evening?”

“I might have seen you leave your chambers late one night.”

“You know where my chambers are?” Sophronia was shocked. A girl’s boudoir was sacred!

Felix issued her a crooked smile. “I’ve never seen the engine room of a floating school before.”

“I see. Well, thank you, Vieve.”

Vieve tried to explain. “I can’t lark about here forever. I’ve been thinking Bunson’s is a better place for me.”

Sophronia handed her traitorous friend back the mini-prototype. “Guidance valve,” she mouthed.

Vieve nodded, indicating she’d heard the name.

“What about Professor Shrimpdittle?” Sophronia was alluding to the fact that, as an old acquaintance of Professor Lefoux’s, Shrimpdittle knew Vieve’s true gender.

“I haven’t figured that out yet. May need your help to reassign him.”

“Oh? And here you betrayed me this very evening to both Dimity and Lord Mersey.”

Dimity took offense at being lumped together with a boy. “Wait a moment!”

Felix watched the exchange with amused eyes.

Vieve had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Yes, well, I thought we might come to an arrangement. If I leave for Bunson’s, I won’t need the obstructor anymore, will I?”

Vieve had found Sophronia’s weakness. “Fine, you rat, I’ll put some thought into a discrediting action.” Sophronia’s mind was already contemplating how one might get a professor dismissed from an evil genius training school.

Vieve spat on her hand and offered it to Sophronia. “Done!”

Sophronia sighed and shook it. Luckily she was wearing her black cotton spare gloves, the ones dedicated to visiting sooties.

“I think that’s enough excitement for one evening. Shall we head out?”

Soap said, “So soon?”

Vieve was dubious. “As a party of four?”

“Oh, you may take Dimity with you;. Lord Mersey and I will go the normal route. I’d like to see his technique.”

Felix looked uncomfortable but schooled his expression to one of bland superiority and marched off to the hatch. Clearly, he was not as relaxed about climbing as he pretended.

Sophronia held back. “Don’t you worry, Soap. I’ll give him what for!”

Soap looked pleased. “You will? Oh, good. But, erm, what for?”

“Disrespecting you, of course. Ignoramus.”

Soap’s face fell. “Oh, now, miss. Please don’t. I don’t need you to defend me.”

“But, your honor is at stake!”

“Honor’s for toffs. In that, at least, he’s right. I’m nothing but a lowly sootie.”

“But—”

“You wanna give him a lecture for some other reason, please do.”

Sophronia was disconcerted. What else had Felix done?

“Looking at you as if he wanted to spread you on toast and nibble!” Soap’s voice vibrated with disgust, or something more dangerous.

Sophronia didn’t know what to say to that, so she only nodded dumbly and scampered after Felix out the hatch.

Sophronia was none too thrilled to be stuck climbing. Vieve’s method of getting around was faster and less strenuous. But exercise was good for her, and part of her wanted to show off for Felix—not to mention show him up.

If Lord Mersey was impressed by the smooth way she shot her hurlie and swung from balcony to balcony, he gave no indication. After an abortedattempt to assist her, as any gentleman would a woman into a carriage, he found she was more efficient than he, even in skirts, and hung back in an attitude of “ladies first.”

Sophronia out-distanced him and, although she knew it was rude, decided to leave him eating petticoat fluff. If Felix had entertained any ideas of an assignation, they were quite thoroughly shredded.

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