A School for Unusual Girls by Kathleen Baldwin Page B

“And this? Do you think this is a devious plan to rid you of your eccentricities ? A clever ploy—if you are free to experiment, science will lose its appeal?” She waited for me to respond. When I didn’t, her mouth twitched into a smirk. “Of course, if you’d prefer to have a go on the rack, I’ll simply have to oblige you.”
    I blinked, unable to find my bearings with her.
    â€œCome now, Georgiana. Do you want to work on your formula, or not? It occurred to me that with the proper equipment you might not burn down any more stables.”
    True. With proper equipment, that fire would never have happened. Was this another tactic? Apparently she was quite fond of misdirection. “I know what you want,” I said. “You want me to finish the ink formula for Lord Wyatt and Captain Grey.”
    â€œYes.” A tiny hint of admiration softened her features. “That is precisely what I want.”
    â€œWhy? What makes you think my ink is anything of value?”
    â€œYour mother’s letters were quite explicit about your experiments.”
    A lie. “Impossible.” I squinted and crossed my arms. “Until the fire she never cared one wit about anything I did. She wouldn’t know anything beyond the fact that I was working on an invisible ink. Her letters would’ve been full of complaints. Nothing substantial enough to merit all this.” I waved at the equipment.
    The intrepid Miss Stranje pressed her lips tight, buying time to construct another untruth. I gave her no quarter. “What does Miss Grissmore have to do with any of this? If you have harmed her in any way—”
    â€œHardly!” She glanced up sharp at that, like a hawk discovering the mouse in her claws had rather pointy teeth. “Miss Grissmore and I are former schoolmates. She came to me after your parents turned her out without a reference.”
    â€œOh.” I cooled considerably and turned away, toying with one of the brass weights for the scale. “Thank you for that. She didn’t deserve such poor treatment. Grissy was an excellent teacher.”
    Miss Stranje took a deep breath and proceeded with a softer tone. “She speaks rather highly of you as well. She convinced me that you are capable of developing an ink. On the strength of her recommendation I procured this equipment.”
    â€œI see.” Except, I didn’t see. I couldn’t see any more than a blind man in an apothecary shop. Miss Stranje and Miss Grissmore were friends. Impossible . Everything suddenly felt topsy-turvy. My assumptions were all called into question. I kneaded my temple. “Very well, you’ve explained how, but you’ve still not told me why . What do you intend to do with my ink?”
    â€œA prudent question.” This response did not come from Miss Stranje. I spun toward the deep voice. Sebastian and Captain Grey stood in the doorway. The captain approached us. “Well done, Miss Fitzwilliam. It is right that you should ask.” He bowed. “I’m relieved to see you have recovered from your mishap.”
    â€œCaptain, how good of you to come.” Miss Stranje met him with rosy warmth. The two grasped each other’s hands as if they were lifelong friends, and just as quickly stepped apart, blushing and awkward.
    Miss Stranje tried to hide her reaction by introducing them to me. “Captain Grey, Lord Wyatt, you’ve already met my new student, but under … how shall I say … under less-than-appropriate circumstances. Please, allow me to properly present to you, Miss Georgiana Fitzwilliam.”
    I dropped into a curtsey elegant enough to please even my mother, wishing the whole time that my wretched hair did not resemble a stork’s nest smushed into one paltry white ribbon. But it did. There was no help for it, and because there is no sense trying to pretend one is a silk purse, when one is, in fact, a sow’s