The Book of Spells (15 page)

By the time the dishes were cleared, Eliza’s stomach was so knotted, she’d hardly been able to choke anything down. She reached up and rubbed her gold locket between her thumb and forefinger.

“If she’s already told, then why has the headmistress yet to say anything?” Viola said finally, looking up as the waitress whisked her dish away.

“I don’t understand it either,” Catherine whispered. “This is torture.”

“Perhaps that’s what this is meant to be,” Eliza mused, glancing sidelong at the headmistress. “Miss Almay’s own personal style of torment.”

She was just reaching for her water glass when her eyes caught Helen’s from across the room. Helen was staring right at her. Eliza felt the force of it right down to her toes. Why did it seem that Helen was always watching her?

Suddenly the maid stepped away from the wall, leaned down, and whispered something in the headmistress’s ear.

“Oh, no,” Eliza said, placing her glass back down so hastily that half the water spilled over the rim. “Don’t look, but I think she’s telling her right now.”

Alice whimpered quietly, looking up at the head table, as everyone else held their breath. Slowly Miss Almay placed her spoon on the table and rose from her chair. As she did so, Helen backed up to her spot near the wall, casting an unreadable glance at Eliza.

“Ladies, if I may have your attention,” Miss Almay said, casting a dour look at the room.

Instantly every conversation in the room came to a halt. Eliza felt her heartbeat pounding behind her very eyes. This was it. This was the end of her short tenure at the Billings School for Girls. Would any other respectable school have her once she was expelled? Would her mother even let her back into their home?

“As you all know, many of our students were put on probation on the first night of the term,” the headmistress said, her eyes sliding over those tables which were home to the offending girls, all of whose
faces had drained of blood and now appeared pale and waxy. “At that time I revoked their welcome dance privileges and wrote out chores and punishments for each of them. But due to their recent ameliorated behavior, I have been forced to reconsider my decision.”

Eliza glanced at Catherine across the table. Confusion filled her friend’s eyes. “Because of their superb conduct over the past week, I have decided to allow these girls to attend the dance after all,” Miss Almay announced.

A shriek of delight emanated from the depths of Alice’s lungs, and all the girls laughed happily. Eliza was so baffled, she was not yet able to feel relieved. Why hadn’t Helen told? She looked at the maid, but the girl’s gaze was once again fixed squarely on the floor.

“Do not make me regret my decision!” Miss Almay announced loudly enough to be heard over the hubbub. But still the girls gasped and chattered and began to plan their dresses and hair. Eliza smiled slowly and turned to Theresa with muted glee.

“Well. So much for Helen’s debased nature,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

Theresa’s grin dropped from her face. “No one likes a know-itall, Eliza.”

But Eliza was unaffected by the slight. All she could think about was the dance, and whether she’d get a chance to take a turn with Harrison Knox.

“Oh, oh! What about this one? The Smitten Potion?” Alice giggled and pointed at the open page in front of her. “If a boy and a girl drink from the same draught, it’s guaranteed to make them smitten for twenty-four hours. I think we have all the ingredients for it too!”

Eliza glanced at Catherine in the three-way mirror at the dressing table they were sharing in the parlor. Three such tables had been added to the room for the night so the girls could all get ready for the dance together.

“I suppose we should have expected this,” Eliza joked. “There will probably be more spells cast tonight than any other night of the year.”

Catherine smiled slightly. “So long as no one overdoes it. There’s a fine line between good spells and bad.”

“And what do you think that line is?” Eliza asked, genuinely curious.

“Anything that alters someone’s mind or soul, anything that goes
against the natural order of things,” Catherine replied, reaching for her powder compact. “I admit, it’s a fuzzy line. I suppose everyone has to define it for themselves,” she added, glancing over at Alice.

Like the rest of the girls, Alice had already changed into her dress for the dance, a peacock blue frock with a low neckline, of which Miss Almay would certainly disapprove, and a full skirt that accentuated her tiny waist. She was now seated on a parlor chair with the book of spells open across her lap and Viola and Marilyn leaning in from either side to better see the pages. Theresa stood nearby, tugging on her black gloves and admiring herself in a full-length mirror, while the other coven members helped one another with makeup and hair.

“Lavender, hold still,” Jane instructed from a settee in the corner.

“It’s one of the basic spells. I’m sure it won’t hurt. And you don’t want that blemish on your chin distracting boys from your lovely eyes.”

Lavender blushed. “You think I have lovely eyes?”

“Of course you do!” Bia told her, looking up from her compact mirror. “With all those tiny gold flecks? I wish I had tiny gold flecks.”

“All right, then,” Lavender said, lifting her chin a bit higher. “Go ahead.”

Jane raised her hand and held it an inch from Lavender’s chin. Lavender squeezed her eyes closed but stayed completely still.

“Clarus!” Jane said.

The telltale snapping sound filled the room. Lavender’s eyes popped open as Jane and Bia clapped their hands.

“It’s gone!” Bia said, handing over her mirror.

Lavender’s jaw dropped as she inspected her face, turning it from left to right. “Thank you, Jane!”

The two girls hugged, and Eliza smiled. It was nice to see her friends growing closer—to see the way magic could bring them all together.

“Clarissa!” Theresa said suddenly, looking up at the door. “
What
are you wearing?”

Everyone turned to stare. Clarissa’s dress looked like something out of a prairie girl’s nightmare. It was green and purple gingham with frayed lace trim and a high neckline. Her braids had been pinned to the back of her head in a coil, making her appear almost like a scary old maid out of a children’s book.

“It’s the best one I have,” Clarissa lamented, her arms drooping at her sides. Eliza had never known Clarissa to be vain, so she knew right away that the frock was truly bothering her.

“Well. We can fix that, can’t we, girls?” Eliza said, standing.

“Yes, we certainly can,” Genevieve said, laying aside her finger sandwich and standing up.

All the other girls gathered around Clarissa as Catherine stood up to close the double doors leading to the front hall—an act that was strictly forbidden but necessary for the moment.

“What color dress would you
like
to have, Clarissa?” Eliza asked.

“I’ve always loved dark pink roses,” Clarissa said. “My grandmother grows them in her garden.”

“Pink rose it is.” Catherine held out her hand toward Clarissa’s dress. “Hubeo deep rose.”

Instantly, a swirl of color appeared in the center of Clarissa’s stomach. Just as Alice’s nightgown had changed that first night, Clarissa’s dress transformed into a lovely solid pink.

“It’s beautiful!” Clarissa exclaimed, giving a twirl.

“Not so fast!” Viola said. “We must do something about that neckline.” She held her hand out and bit her lip. “Collar exposé!”

With a snap, the fabric around Clarissa’s neck tore free and fell to the ground, leaving her collarbone exposed. Clarissa’s hands flew to her neck.

“I’ve never worn anything so revealing,” she protested with a blush.

“Trust me. I know fashion, and this is au courant,” Viola replied, taking her hand in a reassuring way. “What do you think, girls? Shall we fix the skirt next?”

“
Absolument
!” Marilyn said, clapping her hands.

Soon all the girls were comparing ideas, holding out their palms, and making adjustments. Scraps of fabric fell to the floor. The lace trim shot right into the fireplace. A set of ribbons lifted off Alice’s dressing table and flew over to adorn Clarissa’s bodice, and another set wove through her hair. When Eliza and her friends finally stepped back, Clarissa looked as if she’d stepped out of a magazine. Her hair was done up in a curly, chic updo with blond tendrils around her face. Her skirt was slim around the hips with a slight flare at the ankle, and the rose color was perfectly complemented by the dark purple velvet ribbon trim.

“The boys are going to fall over themselves to dance with you,” Eliza assured her.

Slowly Clarissa turned and looked into one of the mirrors. She touched her hair carefully with her fingertips, her mouth open in awe. “Thank you, girls! Thank you so much!”

Eliza hugged her as the others congratulated themselves over a job well done.

“Come on! Let’s get to work on that potion for wandering hands!” Jane suggested, grabbing Alice’s wrist.

“What does this one do, exactly?” Clarissa asked, carefully lifting her new skirt as she followed them to the far wall.

“It will give boils to any boy whose hands wander too far,” Alice said mischievously.

“Oh. I like the sound of that!” Lavender put in. They all gathered around the coffee table where Alice had already laid out the small tubs and satchels of herbs, petals, and roots they had been collecting around campus over the past few days.

“It looks as though we have everything,” Alice said. “Dandelion, mushroom, poison oak . . . But we need someone with gloves to handle it.”

“I’ll do it,” Theresa offered, holding up her gloved fingers.

Theresa’s dress was of a modern style, with sleeves that opened wide over her shoulders, exposing the sides of her arms, before the fabric came together again just above her elbow. The bodice was white, with a black bolero-style vest, and the skirt was made of several layers of black and white fabric draped one atop the other. She looked like a
Harper’s Bazaar
illustration come to life, and Eliza noticed more than one of the other girls eyeing her enviously.

“But what about the Smitten Potion?” Genevieve asked as Theresa got to work, measuring out the ingredients into a glass bowl. “I thought that sounded interesting.”

“Turns out, it only lasts for twenty-four hours,” Alice said dismissively.

“Good riddance, then. I have no interest in twenty-four hours,” Genevieve said with a sniff, turning toward the mirror on the east wall to add a purple feather to her hair. “What I need is a potion that will win a husband for me forever!”

Eliza laughed as she and Catherine returned to their vanity table.

“See that? That’s where I would draw the line,” Catherine said.

“You can’t make a boy fall in love with you for all eternity.”

Suddenly, the double doors opened.

“Shhhh!” Alice said, slamming the book and tucking it behind her.

Eliza turned, expecting to see the headmistress hovering at the door with a severe expression on her face. Instead, Helen hovered in the doorway, carrying a tray laden with a glass pitcher of water and a set of glasses.

“Hello, Helen,” Eliza said in a welcoming voice, even as her heart fluttered with nervousness. After having caught Helen watching her so many times, she felt constantly on edge around the maid. “How are you this evening?”

Helen placed the tray on the side table near the door and walked up to Eliza and Catherine.

“Well, thank you,” she said quietly, looking Eliza directly in the eye.

“We haven’t had a chance to properly thank you for keeping us out of trouble,” Catherine said, turning in her chair to face Helen. “You could have told on us, but you didn’t. We’re all very grateful.”

“You’re welcome, miss,” Helen said tonelessly.

Eliza wasn’t sure what to make of the girl’s complete lack of personality or inflection.

“Here. Would you help me fasten my necklace?” she asked, hoping to get the girl to warm up a bit. She sat before the vanity, placed her compact down, and lifted the gold locket from the table. Helen reached for it, but hesitated when she saw the pendant. Her skin looked almost gray.

“What? What is it?” Eliza asked, alarmed.

Helen blinked, tearing her eyes from the etching in the pendant’s surface. “It’s nothing, miss.” She took the clasp and worked it in one try. “It’s beautiful, Miss Williams,” she added politely. “Yours as well, Miss White.”

Catherine touched the gold fleur-de-lis that dangled from a simple chain around her neck. “My mother gave it to me,” she said, smiling. “And please, Helen, I must have told you a hundred times in the past, you can call me Catherine.”

“And me Eliza,” Eliza added. “We’re all the same age, aren’t we?”

She turned to look up at Helen. “How old are you?” she asked when the other girl didn’t answer.

“Seventeen, miss,” Helen replied. Her eyes flicked to Eliza’s locket again, but just as quickly flicked back to her face.

“Then you are our senior and should certainly call us by our first names,” Catherine said warmly.

Helen seemed about to respond when Theresa interrupted from across the room. “Well, I look stunning tonight, if I do say so myself,” she announced turning this way and that in front of the full-length mirror. “I’m going to have a tough time keeping Harrison’s hands from wandering.”

“Would you like some of . . . what we were making?” Alice asked, glancing warily at Helen.

“No, thank you.” Theresa smirked, then looked across the room at Eliza. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

This brazen statement was met with gales of laughter. Eliza, however, saw Catherine glance sympathetically at her. Eliza immediately looked down at the surface of the table, pretending to be preoccupied with the many colors of rouge laid out before her. Did Catherine suspect something? Did she know how Eliza felt about Harrison?

But you feel nothing, remember?
she told herself.
He’s just another boy, and he’s engaged.

She took a deep breath and held it, driving out the awful feelings of disappointment and guilt. In the reflection of the mirror, she saw Alice slip the book of spells out from hiding again, and a few of the girls bent over its pages, whispering now so that Helen wouldn’t hear.