“Theresa Billings, meet Eliza Williams, my new roommate,” Catherine said, so quietly that she could barely be heard. She leaned back slightly so the two could see each other better.
“Eliza Williams?” Theresa said in a sour tone. “As in . . . ?”
“Yes,” Catherine confirmed lightly.
Eliza was at a loss. She’d thought May was beloved everywhere she went, but Catherine had sounded wary when she’d learned that May and Eliza were sisters, and now Theresa seemed disgusted.
Up at the pulpit, Miss Almay cleared her throat and signaled to Mrs. Hodge.
Theresa turned away from Eliza. “I’m so sorry they stuck you with another roommate,” she whispered loudly. “I told Mother to make sure you had a private room this year.”
Eliza’s skin burned from head to toe. Had Catherine been counting on a single? Was she bothered by Eliza’s presence? Her throat tightened just as Mrs. Hodge closed the double doors with a bang. Eliza started. Theresa rolled her eyes and snickered softly.
“Welcome, ladies, to a new term at the Billings School for Girls,” Miss Almay began. “I am Headmistress Almay. I trust you are all well rested after your summer vacations and ready to get down to work.”
“My summer vacation was far more exhausting than any school year,” Theresa whispered, leaning toward Catherine. “Don’t you find parties to be so draining?”
Catherine kept her expression blank as Miss Almay shot her and Theresa a scathing look.
“Billings girls are the finest, most elegant, best-educated girls in the country,” Miss Almay continued. “You are expected to conduct yourself with decorum at all times, and that includes when you are in the company of students of Easton Academy.”
Whispers and giggles greeted this directive. As Headmistress Almay pursed her lips, clearly waiting for the noise to die down, Eliza studied her peers. All of them were perched on the edges of their pews. Alice was gripping the bench in front of her, as if to keep from running over to the Easton campus that very moment. Eliza couldn’t help wondering if all the girls were here only to find a husband.
“As you all undoubtedly know, there will be a welcome dance on the third Saturday of the term, a mixer of sorts between Easton Academy and the Billings School,” Headmistress Almay announced.
Alice clapped her hands together lightly at this announcement. A tingling excitement skittered over Eliza’s skin at the thought of the blue-eyed boy from that morning. She shook her head. What was going on with her? Two hours ago she couldn’t have cared less about boys or the dance. Now, one look at a handsome boy and her feelings were almost Alice-like.
“But remember: This dance is a privilege, not a right,” Miss Almay continued sternly. “Any Billings girl who steps out of line will have this privilege revoked. Do I make myself clear?”
“We understand, Miss Almay. You hold all the power,” Theresa groused under her breath.
Eliza’s heart stopped as Miss Almay cast an admonishing look in Theresa’s direction, but the girl didn’t seem to notice. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Eliza noticed a girl creep through the double doors, closing them silently behind her. She had long, straight blond hair plaited down her back and wore a modest dress of gray muslin. Despite her plain appearance, there was something almost regal about her, about the confidence with which she held her head, about the knowing look in her eyes.
Mrs. Hodge hurried up behind the blonde and whispered something in her ear. The girl nodded and immediately set about opening the lower windows in the chapel.
Eliza widened her eyes in surprise. So she was not a student but a maid.
“Now, on to this year’s curriculum,” Miss Almay continued. “As always, you will be expected to complete academic courses in poetry, art, French, and classic literature, as well as practical classe
s in etiquette, housekeeping, and gardening. There is one change this year, however. The hours at Billings have been extended, so that you will be expected to attend six classes each day rather than five.”
Viola and Jane gasped. “Whose idea was this?” Theresa demanded at full voice.
“Your father’s, actually,” Miss Almay shot back.
Theresa clucked her tongue, her eyes ablaze. Eliza glanced at her roommate. How could Catherine be friends with this girl? Clearly she was nothing but a self-centered, spoiled troublemaker.
Miss Almay sighed. “Are there any questions?”
Eliza’s hand shot up. Catherine and Theresa looked at her in surprise, as did Miss Almay.
“Yes, Miss . . . ?”
“Williams.” Eliza had the sudden, sinking feeling that she wasn’t actually supposed to ask a question. “Eliza Williams, Miss Almay.”
Every face turned toward her. Eliza’s shoulders tensed.
“Yes, Miss Williams?” Miss Almay said.