My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of low, girlish laughter coming from behind the boathouse. I'm not alone. The laugh comes again and I recognize it as Felicity's. Everything collides in me. Longing for my mother, who slips away from me even in dreams. The layers of mystery in Mary's diary. The shiny-slick hatred I feel for Felicity and Pippa, and all those who flit through life without a care. They've picked the wrong day, the wrong girl for cruel pranks. I'll show them cruel. I could snap their slender necks like twigs.
Careful I'm a monster. Better run for safety. Fly away on your little deer hooves.
I'm out of the rowboat quiet as feathers falling on snow, creeping around the other side of the boathouse, sticking close to the cover of bushes. It's not me who's going to get a fright today. Not on your life. The giggling has softened into murmuring and something else. There's a deeper voice. Male. The Torture Twins are not alone. All the better. I'll surprise the lot of them, let them know I won't be their willing fool ever again.
I take two steps closer and jump out in time to see Felicity locked in an embrace with a Gypsy. She sees me and lets out a bloodcurdling scream, I scream. She screams again. And now we're both panting while the white-shirted Gypsy takes in the skittish sight of us, startled bemusement showing in his gold-flecked eyes and in the arch of his thick, dark eyebrows.
"What what are you doing here?" Felicity gasps.
"I might ask you the same question," I say, nodding toward her companion. To be found alone with a man is shockinga reason for a quick and necessary wedding. But to be found with a Gypsy! If I were to tell, Felicity would be ruined for life. If I were to tell.
"I am Ithal," he says in a thick Romanian accent.
"Don't tell her anything," Felicity snaps, still trembling.
Mrs. Nightwing's strident voice cuts through the forest, moving toward us. "Girls! Girls!"
Sheer panic passes over Felicity's gray eyes. "Dear God, she can't find us."
A dozen voices call out our names. They're getting closer. Ithal moves to hold Felicity. " Bater . Let them find us. I am not liking this hiding."
She pushes him away, her voice harsh. "Stop it! Are you mad? I can't be found with you. You've got to go back."
"Come with me." He takes her hand and tries to lead her away but she resists.
"Don't you understand? I can't go with you." Felicity turns to me. "You have to help me."
"Is this a request from the girl who locked me in the chapel last night?" I say, folding my arms across my chest.
Ithal tries to slip an arm around her waist, but she pulls free.
"I didn't mean anything by last night. It was just a laugh, that's all." When she sees that I'm not amused, she tries a different tack. "Please, Gemma. I'll give you whatever you want. My pen set. My gloves. My sapphire ring!"
She moves to take it off her finger but I stay her hand. As delicious as it would be to watch Felicity squirm under Mrs. Nightwing's interrogation, it's better to know that she'll owe her escape to my charity. That should be punishment enough for her.
"You'll be in my debt," I say.
"Understood."
I shove her toward the lake.
"What are you doing?"
"Saving you," I say, and push her in. While she sputters and shrieks in the cold lake water, I point Ithal in the other direction, toward the woods. "Go now if you ever want to see her again!"
"I will not run like a coward." He plants his feet stubbornly, adopting what he must think is an heroic pose. He's just begging for a pigeon to fly by and relieve itself.
"Do you really think you'd ever see any of her inheritance? She'd be cut off without a cent. If you weren't slapped in leg irons and hanged in Newgate first," I say, invoking the name of London's most notorious prison. His face blanches but he's still standing his ground. Male pride. If I can't get him out of here, we're done for.
Kartik appears from behind a tree, startling me. Except for his black cloak, he's dressed just like a Gypsykerchief about his neck, colorful vest, pants stuffed into high boots. In halting Romanian, he speaks to Ithal. I don't know what he's said but the Gypsy leaves quietly with him. On the path, Kartik glances back and our eyes meet. For some reason, I find myself nodding in a silent thank-you. He acknowledges my nod with a curt one of his own and the two of them move quickly toward the safety of the Gypsy camp. "Here, take my hand." I pull the furious Felicity from the lake. She's missed it all in her struggle.
"What did you do that for!" She's soaked, her cheeks blossoming with rage.
Mrs. Nightwing has found us. "What's going on here? What was all that screaming about?"
"Oh, Mrs. Nightwing! Felicity and I decided to take the boat out on the lake and she fell in quite by accident. It was terribly foolish of us and we're dreadfully sorry to have frightened everyone." I'm speaking faster than I ever have in my life. Felicity is actually stunned into silence except for a well-timed sneeze, which immediately causes Mrs. Nightwing to fuss and fret in her own irritable way.
"Miss Doyle, put your cape around Miss Worthington before she catches her death. We shall all go back to the school. This is not a suitable place for young ladies. There are sometimes Gypsies in these woods. I shudder to think what might have happened."