The Baskerville Tales (Short Stories) by Emma Jane Holloway Read Free Book Online

No talk about young ladies and proper behavior?”
    His face wrinkled into a rueful smile. “Miss Cooper, who else do we have in this but each other?”
    Evelina rose, slipping the pistol back into her pocket. “Good enough. I might have a plan, but I’ll need a few things. Do any of your clockwork toys fly?”
    Dr. Larch’s expression furrowed with bemusement, and then twinkled with wry humor. “I don’t know what you’re thinking of, but I suspect it shall be most original.”As the night wore on, plans were made and books consulted, and Evelina spent a long time gathering and testing what she needed. The Risen avoided sunlight, and this was her one chance to prepare. She didn’t return to the academy until much later, and then only long enough to change her clothes. With the chaos of preparation for the ball, it was not hard to come and go unnoticed.
    She found Imogen—who was never robust—nursing a sniffle from her walk in the rain. Her friend’s plan was to rest in bed right up until she had to dress for the dance. Evelina brought her a lunch of hot broth, tucked the blankets around her, and left without elaborating on her plans, in case Imogen would be tempted to risk a more serious illness by joining in.
    That left Evelina without her most obvious support, but she was also relieved. Even if Imogen knew a tiny bit about her magic, there was no reason to drag her deeper into what could be a dangerous secret. And, if things went wrong, Evelina was only putting herself on the line. Imogen was too dear to her to take chances, and there were some ugly tasks left to cross off Evelina’s list.
    The first was confirming her suspicions about Violet. Had she been the one who had summoned Tom Cannon from the grave? Whatever the answer, Evelina wanted to talk to her nemesis alone. There was still the matter of the dress.
    An hour before the ball, she lingered in the corridor just outside Violet’s room, waiting for her prey to emerge. The faint sounds of the tuning orchestra were floating through the frost-edged window along with the purpling dusk. Lights engulfed the academy in a twinkling blaze, inside and out. Carriages crammed the drive, and the entire building smelled of the midnight feast to come. The ball would start within the hour, and everyone else had already gone downstairs.
    Violet’s door opened, and she stepped into the corridor. Evelina caught Violet by one bare arm. The girl whirled, auburn ringlets flying like a living crown of autumn flame. Her eyebrows drew in, then rose in an expression of hauteur.
    Evelina could smell Violet’s expensive scent, a sharp contrast to the smell of dirt and grass clinging to her own clothes. Rather than silks and ribbons, she was wearing her shabbiest outfit. Violet took it in with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t a costume ball, Cooper. There’s no need to dress like a Gypsy.”
    In contrast, Violet’s gorgeous ball gown was the exact color of the one that had belonged to Evelina’s mother. However, it was not quite as fine—and there was no way that Violet would have allowed Evelina to outshine her.
So she destroyed my one chance to waltz with Tobias
.
    “The ball can wait.” Evelina’s voice was cold, even if her gut flamed with anger. “And be very, very grateful that I have something more to worry about right now than dresses.”
    “Let go of me.” Violet pulled her arm from Evelina’s grasp.
    Quick as a cat, Evelina shoved her. Violet’s back hit the wall with a thump, her eyes flying wide with shock. Good. Evelina wanted her focused. She closed in, giving Violet no room to get away. “What spell did you use?”
    The color fled from Violet’s face, leaving a faint dusting of freckles stark against her cheeks. “What?”
    The single word was more surprise than denial.
    Evelina pushed closer, feeling bloody satisfaction. “We’ll have a long talk about the dress later.”
    Violet went paler still, the corners of her mouth pulling down. It looked