Rebel Angels

"I'm not feeling well," I say, flopping back on the pillows.

Mrs. Jones pulls me to a sitting position."Once they've gone, you can rest all you like, miss. But for now, I'm to get you dressed and be quick about it." When I descend, they're all assembled in the parlor, huddled tightly over teacups. If this is a social call, it is not going well. Something is amiss. Even Simon isn't smiling.

"Gemma," Grandmama says."Sit down, child."

"I'm afraid I have some rather troubling news concerning your acquaintance Miss Bradshaw," Lady Denby says. My heart stops.

"Oh?" I say, faintly.

"Yes. I thought it strange that I wouldn't know of her family, so I've made inquiries. There is no Duke of Chesterfield in Kent. In fact, I was able to turn up nothing on a girl discovered to be of the Russian nobility."

Grandmama shakes her head."It is shocking. Shocking!"

"What I did discover is that she has a rather vulgar cousin--a merchant's wife who lives in Croydon. I'm afraid your Miss Bradshaw is little more than a fortune hunter," Lady Denby says.

"I never cared for her," Grandmama says.

"There must be some mistake," I offer weakly.

"That is a kind assessment, my dear," Lady Denby says, patting my hand."But remember that you too have been tainted by this scandal. And Mrs. Worthington, of course. To think that they opened their home to her. Of course, Mrs. Worthington isn't known for her sound judgment, if I may be so bold."

Grandmama gives her edict. "You are to have no further acquaintance with that girl."

Tom enters. His face is drawn and pale.

"Thomas? What is the matter?" Grandmama asks.

"It's Miss Hawkins. She took ill in the night with a fever. She will not wake." He shakes his head, unable to continue.

"I dreamed about her last night," I blurt out.

"Did you? What did you dream?" Simon asks. I dreamed of Circe and Nell's stifled cry. What if that was no dream?

"I--I don't remember," I say.

"Oh, poor dear, you're pale," Lady Denby says."It is very hard to hear that one has been duped by a supposed friend. And now your Miss Hawkins is ill. It must be a terrible shock."

"Yes, thank you," I say."I'm not feeling well."

"Poor dear," Lady Denby murmurs again. "Simon, do be a gentleman and help Miss Doyle."

Simon takes my arm and escorts me from the room.

"I can't bear to think of Ann in such trouble," I say.

"If she misrepresented herself, she deserves what comes," Simon says."No one likes to be deceived."

As I am deceiving Simon, letting him think me this uncomplicated English schoolgirl? Would he run if he knew the truth? Would he feel I had misled him? Keeping secrets is as much an illusion as acting out an elaborate charade.

"I know this is a horrible imposition, Mr. Middleton," I say. "But could you possibly delay your mother's visit to Mrs. Worthington until I've had a chance to speak with Miss Bradshaw?"

Simon gives me a smile. "I'll do my best. But you should know that once my mother sets her sights on something, there is little you can do to change the course of it. I think she's set her sights on you."

I should be flattered. And I am, in a small way. But I cannot shake the feeling that in order to be loved by Simon and his family, I shall have to be a very different sort of girl and that if they knew me--truly knew me--they would not welcome me so warmly.

"What if you were to be disappointed in me?"

"I could never be disappointed in you."

"But what if you discovered something . . . surprising about me?"

Simon nods."I know what it is, Miss Doyle." "You do?" I whisper.

"Yes," he says in earnest. "You have a hump on your back that only appears after midnight. I shall take your secret to the grave."

" Yes, that is it," I say, smiling, blinking hard at the tears that sting my eyes.

"You see? I know everything about you," Simon says. "Now get some rest. I shall see you tomorrow."

I hear them in the parlor gossiping. I hear them because I am on the stair, soft as starlight. And then I am out the door, quiet as can be, and off to the Worthingtons' house to warn them. And after, I shall find Miss McCleethy, and she will answer for Miss Moore, my mother, Nell Hawkins, and the others. For this purpose, I tuck the blade Kartik left me into my boot.

Felicity's butler opens the door and I push my way inside, past his protests.