Eliza resolved to keep her promise and say nothing else against Theresa. At least, not tonight. But she knew that she would never understand how any rational person—Harrison and Catherine included—could ever tolerate Theresa Billings, much less love her.
The Billings Literary Society
The low-ceilinged Billings School library was as charmless inside as it looked from the outside. It gave the impression that it had been built off to the side of McKinley Hall as an afterthought, as if no one had imagined in the early days that a girls’ school might be in need of an actual book collection. Although the library was architecturally bland and almost windowless, Eliza still managed to love it.
As she and Catherine slid into chairs beside Alice at one of the small wooden tables on Wednesday afternoon, she couldn’t help but breathe in the room’s musty, papery scent. Then Theresa dropped the heavy tomes from the chapel basement in the center of the table, chasing away the warm and cozy feeling.
“I cannot believe you brought those here,” Alice whispered, glancing derisively at the ancient volumes. “Not only are those books an abomination against God, but if the headmistress catches you with them, you’ll surely be expelled.”
Alice stood up, turned her back on the other three girls, and sat down at the next table. She opened her history book, tugged her kid gloves from her fingers, and directed her attention to the page before her.
“How many times do I have to tell you, I can’t be expelled?” Theresa hissed, leaning toward Alice’s table to be closer to her ear. “Besides, these are your books as well.”
“They are not my books.” Alice sniffed. “I want nothing to do with them.” She yanked her chair so close to her table, Eliza was sure she would crush her ribcage.
“Come on, Alice. It’s all in good fun,” Eliza said, removing her favorite hat—the blue one with white ribbon trim and a slight brim. She glanced surreptitiously around the library to make sure no one was listening in. A pair of girls sat nearby, taking notes from etiquette books. Clarissa was camped at a corner table, surrounded by huge books, chewing on the end of one of her golden braids as she concentrated. The elderly librarian was shelving books on the other side of the small room, seemingly unaware that there were any students present at all.
“Perhaps these books were hidden for a reason,” Alice said. “Perhaps that box was buried because it was never meant to be found.”
Theresa opened her mouth to speak, but Catherine interrupted. “Or maybe they were simply waiting for the right person to find them,” she said, her eyes sparkling.
Eliza regarded her friend. Careful Catherine seemed quite ready to throw caution to the wind all of a sudden.
“I don’t know about what’s meant to be,” Theresa said, opening to a page she had marked in one of the books. “All I know is, this whole thing sounds as though it could be the perfect antidote to this boring place.”
“Haven’t you people read the Bible?” Alice hissed under her breath from the next table. “‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live?’ Do you even realize what that means?”
“It’s not as if we’re going to be putting anyone under spells to do evil,” Theresa whispered back. “It’s like Eliza said: I’d just like to have a bit of fun.”
“From what I’ve read, hell is no fun at all,” Alice replied, looking at Theresa over her shoulder.
Theresa leveled her with a glare. “What about a potion to make a boy fall in love with you?” she asked, opening to another page and letting the book cover smack into the table’s surface as a sort of exclamation point. “Does that sound like fun?”
Eliza and Catherine looked at Alice. Alice looked at the book. She bit her lip, twiddling her pen between her fingers. Then, abruptly, she lifted her chair, turned it around, and jostled in between Catherine and Eliza.
“Fine. Tell me more,” Alice said.
Theresa grinned. Eliza hid a laugh behind her hand.
“It says here that if we can gather eleven strong women, we’ll be able to summon the power of Mother Earth,” Theresa said, running her finger across an open page. “That means we can cast spells, concoct potions. Basically, we’ll have the power to do anything we want.”
“Within reason, of course,” Catherine said.
“Of course. Within reason,” Theresa echoed, her gaze still focused on the books.
“I’m serious, Theresa,” Catherine said, leaning toward the table. “Witchcraft is not something one should trifle with or use for selfish purposes.”
“Look who’s an expert all of a sudden,” Theresa said snidely.
“It still feels wrong,” Alice said, shaking her head, her auburn ringlets bouncing against her cheeks.
“Think of it as a club,” Eliza suggested. “It’s just a club of girls, getting together to read some strange books.”
A thrill of excitement shot through Eliza’s chest. A literary club actually sounded like a fantastic idea to her—one where real books were read, not just spell books. It would give the friends time to talk about things they might not otherwise have the opportunity to talk about, like books, politics, and the world at large. Things the properly demure ladies of Billings were normally forbidden to even think of.
Slowly, a new mission started to form in Eliza’s mind, along with a list of qualities all members of the club should strive to possess: loyalty, intelligence, progressive thinking, industry, eloquence, and, without question, the ability to speak one’s own mind.
“All right, then. A club sounds harmless enough,” Alice said, looking around at the other girls. “Who would we invite?”