"This ring was a gift from my father, Admiral Worthington. Perhaps you've heard of him?"
Half the English-speaking world has heard of Admiral Worthingtona naval hero, decorated by Queen Victoria herself. "No, I can't say that I have," I lie.
"He's very famous. He sends me all sorts of things from his travels. My mother runs a salon in Paris, and when Pippa and I are graduated, we're going to Paris, where Mama will have us outfitted by the finest couturiers in France. Perhaps we'll take you along as well."
It's not an invitation. It's a challenge. They want to know if I have the means to keep up with them. "Perhaps," I say. They don't invite Ann.
"It's going to be a wonderful season, though Pippa will probably get the lion's share of attention." Pippa beams at this. She's so lovely that scores of young men will prod their relatives to introduce them. "You and I will simply have to be good sports about it."
"And Ann," I say.
"Yes, and Ann, of course. Dear Ann." Felicity laughs, giving Ann a quick kiss on the cheek, which makes her blush again. It's as if all is forgotten. The clock strikes ten and Mrs. Nightwing makes an appearance at the doors. "Time for bed, ladies. I bid you all good night."
Girls shuffle out in twos and threes, arms linked, voices and spirits high. The excitement of the evening lives on in a contagion of whispers that trickle from girl to girl. We're going round and round in a maypole dance of stairs and more stairs, inching toward the maze of doors where our rooms lie.
I'm finally unable to hold back my irritation with Ann. "You're welcome, I'm sure."
"Why did you do it?" she asks. Is no one here capable of saying a simple "thank you"?
"Why didn't you defend yourself?"
She shrugs. "What's the point? There's no winning against them."
"There you are, Ann, darling." Pippa comes up and takes Ann by the arm, slowing her down so that Felicity can slip in beside me. Her voice in my ear is confession-quiet.
"I shall have to think of a way to repay you for finding my ring tonight. We have a bit of a private club, Pippa, Cecily, Elizabeth, and I, but there might be room for you."
"Aren't I the lucky one? I'll rush right out and buy a new bonnet for the occasion."
Felicity's eyes narrow, but her mouth never loses its smile. "There are girls who would give their eyeteeth to be in your position."
"Fine. Then ask them."
"See here, I'm offering you a chance to get on at Spence. To be a part of something and have the other girls look up to you. You might do well to think about it."
"To be part of something the way you made Ann a part of something tonight?" I say. I look back at Ann, several steps below me now, her nose running again.
Felicity sees this. "It's not that we don't want Ann involved. It's just that her life isn't going to be like ours. You think you're being so kind to her when you know very well that you can't be friends with her on the outside. It's much crueler to make her think otherwise, to lead her on."
She's right. I don't trust her farther than I can run full-steam in a corset, but she is right. The truth is hard and unfair, but there it is.
"If I were interested in joiningwhich I'm not saying that I ambut if I were, what would I have to do?"
"Nothing yet," she says, her face breaking into the sort of smile that doesn't make me feel at ease. "Don't worrywe'll come to you." She lifts her skirts and runs up the stairs, shooting past the rest of us like a comet.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It's the sound that wakes me. My eyelids flutter open, fighting off the remnants of dreams. I'm lying on my right side, facing Ann's bed. The door and whatever may be just inside it are down past my feet at the far end of the room. To get a good look, I'd have to move, sit up, roll over, and I'm not about to let on that I'm awake. It's a five-year-old's logic: If I can't see it, it can't see me. No doubt plenty of unfortunate people have wound up with their heads cut off by assuming the very same thing.
All right, Gem, no use getting frightened. It's probably nothing . I blink and let my eyes adjust to the dark. Fingers of moonlight reach through the crack in the long velvet drapes and up the walls, nearly touching the low ceiling. Outside, a branch scratches against the windowpane with a squeak. My ears strain for some other noise, something in the room with us. There's nothing else but the rhythm of Ann's steady snoring. For a moment I think I must have dreamed it. And there it is again. The creaking of floorboards under careful steps that tells me this is not my imagination. I let my eyelids close to small slits so that I can pretend to be asleep but still see. No one takes my head without a fight. A figure looms closer. My tongue feels thick and dry in my mouth. The figure reaches out a hand and I'm up quickly, smashing my skull into the overhang just above my bed.
I hiss in pain, forgetting my visitor and placing a palm on my throbbing forehead.
A surprisingly small hand clamps over my mouth. "Do you want to wake the whole bloody school?" Felicity leans over me, the moonlight catching the planes of her face in such a way that she is all wide, hard angles and milky-white skin. She could be the face of the moon itself.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, my fingers rubbing across the goose egg-sized lump rising along my hairline.
"I told you we'd come for you."