“Agreed,” Ann and Felicity chime.
“I want to show you something.” Felicity opens a box and peels back layers of tissue. Inside is a truly exquisite cape—midnight blue velvet with white fur trim round the collar and silk ribbons for ties.
“Oh,” Ann gasps. “How lucky you are.”
Felicity holds the cape at a distance. “Father wants to take little Polly on a trip. I objected, and he bought me this.”
“Why should you object?” Ann asks, still eyeing it.
Fee and I exchange a glance neither of us is eager to hold. We both know what it means for the admiral to take his young ward on a trip. The horror of it silences me.
“I’m giving it to Pip,” Fee says, folding it carefully into its box.
Ann’s mouth opens in shock. “Won’t your mother be angry?”
“Let her be,” Felicity says, her lips pressed into a hard line. “I shall say it was ruined by the washerwoman. She’ll be angry and say I am careless with my things. I shall tell her she is careless with hers as well.”
The box is stored beneath Felicity’s chair. “But what of tonight? Gemma, the realms?”
They look to me hopefully.
“Yes. The realms.” I pull back a section of the tent, and we spy on Miss McCleethy. She sits with Nightwing and LeFarge, sharing tea and good spirits. Nightwing steals peeks at the clock, and I know she is itching for her evening sherry. At least we may be assured she’ll sleep through our adventures. But McCleethy is a different matter. She’s waiting for me to make a mistake, to prove I have the magic, and I’m doubly suspicious of her now after my vision.
“Blasted McCleethy,” Felicity snarls. “She’s going to ruin everything.”
Ann nibbles her bottom lip, thinking. “What if we were to put a spell on her? We could make her so sleepy that she must go to bed for days.”
Felicity snorts. “Are you mad? She’ll probably come for our skins—while we still inhabit them!”
“No,” I say. “The slightest hint of magic used against her and she’ll know. We can’t chance it just now. She mustn’t suspect a thing. I’m afraid we’ll simply have to wait until she’s safely asleep before we go into the realms.”
“She doesn’t look at all sleepy,” Ann laments.
I spy Mademoiselle LeFarge getting up from her chair.
“Keep the wolves at bay,” I say, rising as well.
I catch our teacher in the library, where she searches for a book among the many on the shelves.
“Bonsoir, Mademoiselle LeFarge,” I manage to say. “Er, comment allez-vous?”
She corrects my pronunciation without looking up. “Como tallay-voo.”
“Yes, I shall make more of an effort.”
“I should be happy, Miss Doyle, if you would make an effort at all.”
I smile like a buffoon. “Yes. Quite right.” Our little talk has gotten off to a grand start. Perhaps I could mangle another language or insult her dress or, heaven forbid, sing. “It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it?”
“It’s raining,” she notes.
“Yes, so it is. But we need rain, yes? It makes the flowers grow so nicely and…”
Mademoiselle LeFarge’s knowing stare stops me. “Out with it, then. What is it you really want, Miss Doyle?”
I see that betrothal to Inspector Kent has sharpened LeFarge’s own skills of detection.
“I thought perhaps you might take us to this exhibition.”
I unfold the slip of paper for the exhibition at the Egyptian Hall and hand it to her. She brings it to the lamp. “A magic-lantern show? Tomorrow afternoon!”
“It promises to be extraordinary! And I know how dearly you love this sort of spectacle!”
“That I do….” With a sigh, she folds the paper. “But it is hardly edifying.”
“Oh, but—”
“I’m afraid the answer is no, Miss Doyle. In another month’s time, you’ll be in London for your season and may go to see whatever you wish. And I should think your time might be better spent perfecting your curtsy. After all, you will face your sovereign. It is the most important moment of your life.”
“I hope not,” I mutter.
She gives me a kind smile along with the advert, and I curse my luck. How will we get to the Egyptian Hall and Dr. Van Ripple now?
I could make her do what I want. No, that’s horrible. But how else will we find Dr. Van Ripple? Right, only this once and never again.