A School for Unusual Girls (7 page)

Tess pinched her.

“Ow!” Sera rubbed her arm and glared at Tess. “The upshot of it is, three weeks later we witnessed Lord Ravencross returning from the war, and he was limping.”

Jane shook her head. “Sera fancies he is a wounded hero. She, of course, is the heroine who must heal him from his tragic past.”

In lilting accents Maya explained, “Seraphina has a poet's heart.”

Jane gave Sera's shoulder a teasing shove. “Because she reads too many novels.”

“Either way, it's all rubbish.” Tess stretched like a cat and leaned out of the window, letting the cool breeze ruffle her hair. “He's healed from his injuries well enough. I saw him this morning, riding his horse at a bruising pace.”

Sera's elfin-like features widened with surprise. “You kept this news to yourself?” Moonlight illuminated her pale blue eyes and made her hair glimmer like spun silver. She pulled Tess back inside the window.

“I'm telling you now.”

“How near to him did you get? How does he look?”

We scarcely breathed waiting for Tess to tell us about the man in the golden window. She slumped against the window frame and fidgeted with the fabric of her nightdress. Clearly, she did not wish to tell about the encounter. Finally, she answered, “What do you wish to know? He looks very like his older brother did, except his hair is long and wild.” She shrugged. “One can assume his sole purpose for riding was to exercise the horse, because he wore neither coat nor hat. His shirt was damp with sweat, and he had worked his poor stallion into a lather. There, I have told you all about the infamous Lord Ravencross.”

“Were his features twisted in pain?” Sera asked.

Tess glanced toward Lord Ravencross's manor. “Not with pain.”

She peered sideways at Tess. “Is he badly scarred?”

“Not as much as we'd expected.” Tess shook her head. “There's a jagged mark across one cheek.”

Jane lost all patience. “What aren't you telling us?”

Tess stiffened. “I meant to spare you. You won't like it. But if you must insist on knowing…” The edge on her voice softened. “Sera, you ought not waste your pity on him. He's nothing like the hero you imagine him to be. Lord Ravencross is an angry heartless scoundrel.”

Sera drew back. “Don't say such things.”

“What's more, he's rude.” Tess slid out of the windowsill and paced. Her straight brown hair fell across her cheek as she counted out more of his sins. “He's callous and unfeeling.” She stopped and looked into each of our amazed faces. “It's the truth.” Chin in the air she pushed past us and flopped into one of the chairs.

“Unfeeling? Why would you say such things? After everything he's been through?” Sera tilted her head and squinted at Tess. “Something happened between you, didn't it?”

Maya sat beside Tess. “Whatever occurred, it seems to be troubling you. You must tell us.”

Tess crossed her arms and sank deeper into the chair. “He nearly trampled me to death, that's what happened.”

“You were running in the fields again, weren't you?” Jane chided.

“Don't fuss at me. You know perfectly well, I
have
to run,” Tess snapped. “As long as I go early in the morning and no one sees me there's no harm in it. There's never anyone out at dawn.”

“Apparently, there is,” Jane scoffed.

“I always have that hour to myself. How could I have known we'd cross his paths and I'd startle his horse.”

“Of course not,” Maya soothed.

“What about the wolves?” I asked. “How did you keep from being attacked?”

“Wolves?” Tess tilted her head quizzically. “Do you mean the dogs?”

“They don't look like dogs,” I said, remembering their yellow eyes.

She shrugged. “I suppose they might be wolves, but—”

“It doesn't matter. Either way, they would never hurt Tess. No animal would.” Jane returned to the matter at hand. “What happened when you startled his horse?”

“It reared, and I stumbled backward into the mud.” Tess smacked the torn armchair. Wadding and dust puffed out. “It was so stupid. I
never
fall. And I wouldn't have today if he'd controlled his mount.”

Having fallen once or twice that very evening, I pointed out, “All of us
fall
from time to time.”

“I don't.” Tess pressed her lips tight and stared intently into the dark side of the room. “He swore at me.” When she turned back to us, her cat-shaped eyes had hardened against the sympathy we offered. “His horse reared again. They always do, don't they, when someone shouts.”

“Especially where you're involved,” Jane said softly.

I didn't comprehend her meaning, but the others seemed to. They gathered closer to Tess, except for Sera, who hung back staring out the window as if she longed to hear Lord Ravencross's version of the events.

“He called me a bothersome little demon.” Tess sank deeper into the chair. “Or something equally hateful. Exactly as my uncle would've done.”

“It was said in the heat of the moment. He could not have meant it,” Maya said in a low, calming voice.

“What happened next?” Jane demanded, like a governess expecting a child to spill all the facts of the matter onto the table.

Tess's jaw tensed. “He pointed his crop at me and told me to stay clear of his property or he would bloody well take a horsewhip to my backside. Then he galloped off and left me flat on my bottom in the mud.”

“Oh, dear.” Maya shook her head mournfully. “That was badly done.”

“Appalling.” Jane rendered her verdict. “You're right. He's rude. That explains why he carries on like a hermit.”

“It certainly wasn't gentlemanly behavior,” I said.

“He must be terribly sad.” Sera peered through the spyglass again. “Look there. See how he limps as he paces in front of the fire. He wouldn't have treated you so poorly if he were not wracked with pain.”

“Pain does not excuse him from common decency.” I might've said more, if I hadn't noticed something stirring in the shadows near Tess's feet. “Don't move,” I warned. Two tiny rubies glowed in the darkness. I knew immediately what creature lurked beneath her chair. “Rat!”

I did not shriek. At least, I prefer to
think
I didn't shriek. I snatched an old shoe out of a nearby box, lunged, and slapped wildly at the fiend. One knock on the head with the chunky Georgian heel and that horrid rat would cease to exist.

“Stop.” Tess grabbed my arm and snatched the shoe out of my hand. “They're only hungry.”

“Yes, for your toes.”

Jane laughed.

Then, I registered the plural pronoun in Tess's plea. “They?”

To my horror, she pulled two scraps of bread from her pocket, stooped near the bottom of her chair, making ridiculous kissing noises, just as one might use to call a kitten. A pair of rats skulked out, scowling in my direction.

Tess held out the bread to them. “Don't be afraid. It's all right. The big, bad, new girl didn't know you're our friends.”

Jane said, “Don't lump me into that category. They're your friends, not mine.” She tossed a cynical smirk in my direction. “Miss Fitzwilliam, allow me to do the honors.” She waved me closer. “May I present Messieurs Punch and Judy.”

I cringed. Two plump rats, one dark gray and the other a white albino, greedily tore into the morsels of bread Tess doled out.

Jane shook her head at my distress. “Poor Georgiana, sent away to a school inhabited by thieves, liars, and rats.”

The gray rat gobbled his crust down and then tried to snatch his cohort's bread. Tess tapped him lightly on the back and scolded, “Don't be so greedy.” But she indulged him with another crust.

Jane leaned close to my ear as if confiding a secret. “The gray one ought to have been named Jack rather than Judy. Tess says they're both males. I suggested we keep the name, but think of it as a nickname for Judas. As you can see, he's a rather disloyal thief.”

Sera nodded sympathetically at me. “You'll get used to them. But guard your ribbons well. They're his favorite.”

Her olive branch of kindness intensified my curiosity. Why was Sera here? Why had any of them been sent to this awful school? I couldn't figure it out. Unlike me, all of these girls were beautiful. Which meant they were marriageable. There was always a gentleman willing to marry a pretty girl, as long as she was moderately well behaved and had an enticing dowry. I doubted they would be here if their families didn't have money.

My question was impertinent, but I couldn't help myself. I had to know. I turned to Jane and asked, “Why are you here?” When she didn't answer immediately I tried to clarify. “What I mean to say is, why are you at Stranje House? You don't seem in need of … er … reforming.” I couldn't think of a way to ask that wouldn't insult her.

An emotion splashed across Jane's face, but vanished so swiftly I couldn't identify it. Was it anger? Sadness perhaps? Or pain? She withdrew and turned stiff and formal. “Are you asking why I'm here, instead of in London lined up against the wall at Almack's, hunting a husband along with all the other sheep-faced little debutantes?”

She said it with such ferocity that I could only nod.

“It's simple really. I made too much money.”

Even more confused, I shook my head. “You must've misunderstood my question—”

“No, you're the one who doesn't understand.” She spoke loud enough to draw the other girls' attention. “I'm here for the same reason
all
of us are here. The same reason that brought you here.”

“I doubt
you
burned down your father's stables,” I blurted, and immediately wished I could retract the words.

“Burned it down?” Jane drew back and exchanged glances with Tess. “Well, I admit, that is a trifle unique.” The corner of her mouth quirked up. I expected her to laugh at me, or mock me. She didn't. Instead, her wry smirk developed an edge of respect. For the first time Jane seemed genuinely interested in me. Her eyebrow hooked up sharply. “Surely, you realize that the fire isn't the
only
reason your parents sent you away.”

Her question wormed into my mind, burrowing into dark corners I wanted left untouched. It was better not to question my parents' motives. Better not to dwell on their lack of affection for me. Better to
never
think about such things.

Ever
.

But Jane waited for an answer, and the longer I hesitated the more knowing her expression became. Cruel of her to guess at their intentions. Anyway, she was wrong. I swallowed down the bile rising from my stomach. She didn't know them. She couldn't possibly know how invisible I usually was to them. No, the facts of the matter were simple. I'd caused a problem for my parents, that was all. I'd been a nuisance. Stranje House was simply their reaction to the fire. I refused to put any other construction on it.

I backed away and shook my head. “No. It's simple. Cause and effect. I started a fire and now I'm being punished.”

“What were you doing when it started?” Tess asked.

“Mixing chemicals.” I answered too quickly, and awakened the worm again. It started gnawing away at my raw places.
No, no, no
. I pushed it away, and threw a question back at Jane, where it belonged. “Why would anyone send you away simply because you made too much money?”

They all stared at me. The fire forgotten. Rats forgotten. Lord Rotten Ravencross forgotten.

Jane rubbed the bruise on her jaw. “You might just as easily ask why Sera is here for drawing a picture.”

Tess glanced up from the rat she cradled. “To be fair, it was an extremely accurate sketch of her grandfather. Which would not have caused such a stir except he had died when Sera was only two.”

“Hardly a reason to lock her in a closet with nothing but bread and water for a month,” Jane protested. “Or you, Tess, exiled because your uncle's stallion kicked him.”

Tess shifted uncomfortably and mumbled, “A bit more to it than that.”

Jane paid her no heed. “And what about Maya, who never did anything to anyone except be born too beautiful and with a voice—”

Maya inhaled sharply. “No more, Jane.
Please.
”

But Jane ignored her, and with a sweeping gesture asked, “Can anyone here guess how the patronesses of Almack's would react upon meeting a young lady who mixes chemicals in her father's barn?” I couldn't tell if she intended to laugh or if she was choking on the words. “Never mind that it caught fire. You're not exactly the
beau monde
's image of an ideal young lady, are you? You know how they abhor bluestockings.”

Jane frowned at me, hands on hips. “You can't truly believe you were sent away solely because of a fire, Georgiana? What did you think? You would serve out a sentence for your crime and then go home, welcomed back into your family's arms? There's no going home again for us. Not really.” Her eyes flashed, as if she wanted to slap sense into me. “Starting a fire is awful, yes, but you're here for the same reason we are. Because you don't fit in.”

It was a cold hard slap. I edged away. I didn't want to hear anymore.

“You're here because you're odd.
Exceptional
.” Unrelenting, Jane followed me to the edge of the circle. “You're unusual, Georgiana. And
that
is far more dangerous than any fire.”

My stomach lurched. For a moment it felt as if the floor might fall out from under me. I could only shake my head.

“You know it's true.” Jane clucked her tongue and wagged a finger at me. “If only you'd sat in the corner like a good little girl, doing needlepoint and reading poetry. Maybe then they wouldn't have booted you out.
Maybe
. But even that trick didn't work for Maya.”