Unseemly Ambition by K.B. Owen Read Free Book Online Page A

without detection. If only
they would apply such cunning and forethought to their
work.
    The upstairs corridor was crowded with
freshmen girls in various states of distress and dishabille. A
nightrobe-clad, felt-slippered Ruby was trying to usher them back
to their rooms. “There now, no need to tear the rooms apart. You
know the gloves won’t be here. You can search the grounds after
chapel and breakfast.”
    Ruby’s unfortunate mention
of chapel provoked
a round of fresh wailing. Though the sound set her teeth on edge,
Concordia could sympathize. For a lady, going about bare-handed was
akin to walking bare foot . It was simply not done. Attending chapel without one’s
gloves was particularly frowned upon. The administration, of
course, would exercise leniency while the freshmen hunted for their
gloves.
    And hunting was often required, as the
sophomores looked on and snickered at the hapless “freshies.” It
seemed no place was out of bounds for the gloves: the fountain
(drained in winter, mercifully), the library, the arboretum, and
once even dangling from the beams of the chapel. This year, Lady
Principal Pomeroy had extracted a promise from the sophomores that
they not hide any gloves in the stables. For some reason, it
spooked the horses.
    “ But Miss Wells, I was ever
so careful. I don’t know how they found my hiding place,” one freshman girl
complained, as Concordia coaxed her back to her room.
    “ Don’t worry, dear,”
Concordia soothed, “we’ll find them.” And quickly, she
hoped.
     
    By the third day, nearly all of the
freshmen had recovered their gloves. Peace was once again restored
in the cottages, without the horses being traumatized this
year.
    The single gloveless exception was
Willow Cottage’s Miss Carey. Concordia strongly suspected Miss
Smedley had something to do with that. She had noticed glances
exchanged between Alison Smedley and her sophomore cohorts each
morning before chapel, as if enjoying a private triumph.
    Concordia could have lent Miss Carey a
pair of her own gloves, but that wouldn’t solve the bigger problem.
She had an idea. That afternoon, when Miss Smedley was out of the
cottage, she called Miss Lovelace to her quarters.
    “ Yes, Miss Wells?” Maisie
Lovelace sat primly in the hard back chair, her hands neatly folded
in her lap.
    “ Does Alison Smedley have
Miss Carey’s gloves?” Concordia asked bluntly.
    Miss Lovelace scowled. “I don’t know
that for a fact, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”
    Concordia raised a skeptical brow. “I
find it hard to believe, as a sophomore yourself, that you didn’t
participate in the prank.”
    “ Well, it’s true,” the girl
said defensively. “I intended to, but Alison put herself in charge
of the whole thing. I stayed out of it.”
    “ I see.” Concordia
hesitated. “I need to ask you a favor, but it violates the roommate
code of ethics. You are free to decline.”
    Miss Lovelace’s eyes widened, but she
waited.
    “ I need you to search Miss
Smedley’s belongings—discreetly, so that she is unaware it has been
done,” Concordia went on, firmly squashing a twinge of guilt.
“Would you recognize Miss Carey’s gloves if you saw them? Yes?
Good. Give them to me and tell me where they were hidden. But say
nothing to anyone else.”
    Miss Lovelace shifted uneasily. “Are
you going to give them back to Miss Carey? Alison will know I took
them. Things are tense enough between us.”
    “ Actually, she will give them back.
Leave that to me. Will you help?” Concordia asked.
    Miss Lovelace grinned. “Give me a few
minutes.”
     
    The next morning, the fourth day after
the prank, the young ladies of Willow Cottage were dressed and
waiting by the door when Concordia joined them. “Everyone ready?”
She turned to Miss Carey, whose hands were thrust in her jacket
pockets. “No gloves yet?”
    “ No, miss,” Miss Carey
whispered, close to tears.
    “ Don’t worry, dear, I’m
sure they will turn up.” Concordia