Waistcoats & Weaponry by Gail Carriger Read Free Book Online Page B

bag that had once held sweets.
    “What will we do if she is out all night, alone, with a werewolf?” Dimity was upset by the very idea.
    “He’s a teacher, surely that counts for something?” protested Agatha.
    “He’s not a relative. If word gets out, her reputation will be in ruins.” Dimity was probably correct in this assumption. “Didn’t we just learn that a young lady should never be alone with a gentleman for any length of time? Do the other teachers know she is with him?”
    Sophronia said, “I don’t think so. Lady Linette just asked me where she was.”
    Dimity swallowed. “That is
not
good.”
    “Worse, she only has until supper to reappear. Matron’s coming by to check.”
    “Then what will we do? Pillows in the bed won’t work on matron. None of us looks enough like Sidheag to pull a wig-and-switch, either.” Dimity wasn’t the best intelligencer, but some of the training had stuck.
    Sophronia was out of options. “We have to hope she returns in time. Nothing else for it.” She sat down on her bed with a thump.
    Dimity said out loud what they had all three been secretly wondering: “Do you think Lord Maccon has been successfully challenged?” It was a most delicate way of putting it. Lord Maccon was Sidheag’s great-great-great-grandfather, in truth the only father she had. He was also Alpha of the Kingair Pack, and Alphas had to fight for their position constantly. He was supposed to be the second-most-powerful werewolf in all ofBritain, but new werewolves did happen, and loners, those unattached to a pack like Captain Niall, could be strong. If one had challenged Lord Maccon and won, it meant the Laird of Kingair was dead.
    Sophronia said, “I don’t like to think it, but it would explain Sidheag’s behavior.”
    Agatha, who knew Sidheag better than anyone, began to cry.
    “Hush, now, we don’t
know
that’s what happened,” Sophronia tutted at her. “It could just be war. Queen Victoria is always sending her werewolves to fight on the front lines somewhere foreign.”
    Bumbersnoot butted up against one of Agatha’s slippered feet, his tail wagging a little less, his floppy leather ears wiggling sympathetically.
    Agatha blubbered, “But she does love him so. I know she talks gruff, but he’s her one and only Gramps. If he’s been hurt or killed…” Great fat tears trickled down her round, freckled face.
    “Now, now, Agatha, where’s your handkerchief? You’ll come over all blotchy, and Professor Lefoux will notice in our next class. Can’t have that.” Sophronia bustled about collecting one of her spares.
    Agatha tried to recover her emotions. She was terrified of Professor Lefoux. Professor Lefoux had no respect for finer feelings, even when they were being applied with purpose. Gadgets, felt Professor Lefoux, solved any problem.
    Agatha disposed of one damp handkerchief, and by the time she’d finished with another, her sobs had subsided.
    “Good girl,” said Sophronia.
    Dimity said, “Sophronia’s right. We don’t know the real truth of any of it.”
    Sophronia added, “If Sidheag doesn’t return, our only hope is that Soap has uncovered something of merit.”
    Dimity and Agatha looked uncomfortable. They knew it meant Sophronia was sneaking out later that night on one of her clandestine visits to engineering. They also knew it meant Sophronia had no means of protecting Sidheag’s reputation, because if she had, she would be doing that instead.
    Matron would come and Sidheag would not be there.
    So it turned out to be.

T HE U NCLEANLINESS OF S OAP
    W hile they nibbled a meal of baked cod, boiled aitch-bone of beef, carrots, turnips, and suet dumplings, Sophronia thought hard on which would be worse for Sidheag: being found missing on her own or having it known she was alone with a werewolf. After munching for a while in silence, Sophronia whispered, “We must try to hold off saying anything to anyone until tomorrow. Let me have a confab with Soap, see what