The Book of Spells (Private 0.50)

“So no beaux at all?” Alice exclaimed. “Well, then we’ll have to get you one.”

Catherine blushed and shifted in her seat, clearly discomfited by the subject.

“I’m sure if Catherine wanted a beau, she could get one for herself,” Eliza said.

Catherine shot Eliza a grateful look. “Thank you, Eliza, I appreciate the confidence.”

The coach turned up a steep hill, and Eliza spied a modest sign near the sign of the road that read the billings school for girls.

“Look! We’re here!” she said, sitting forward.

The three girls crowded the small square window on the left side of the coach, looking out at the sun-dappled campus. The buildings were large and imposing, constructed of gray brick and ornate moldings. Stone pathways wound through the neatly clipped grass, and the air smelled of musky lavender, probably from the field of wildflowers just north of campus. Eliza breathed in the heady scent, knowing she would forever associate it with the feeling of possibility.

“That tall building right there is the McKinley building,” Catherine said, pointing to a structure with an arched doorway and several slim French windows, all of them gleaming in the sunlight. “All the classes are held on the second and third floors, except for etiquette, which we have in the parlor at Crenshaw House.”

A shiver of apprehension went through Eliza at the mention of Crenshaw. What was it that May had wanted to tell her about her new home? But she quickly shoved her worry aside. The buildings may have been a tad austere, but on a gorgeous day like this, it was difficult to imagine anything sinister happening at Billings.

“The instructors’ offices are there, as well as the library,” Catherine continued. “It’s that smaller wing off to the side.”

Eliza eyed the squat annex on the McKinley building. It was obviously a new addition, its gray bricks a darker shade than those of the original structure. The library was unimpressive and nearly windowless, but still she couldn’t wait to peruse the aisles. She hoped they contained all the books she had never been allowed to read inside her mother’s house.

“That long, rectangular building is Prescott,” Catherine continued as the coach drove on. “To the right of the main entrance is the gymnasium, and to the left is the dining hall.”

Alice wrinkled her nose. “Gymnasium? What’s that for?”

“Physical fitness, I believe,” Catherine joked.

“But I hate exercise,” Alice pouted.

“Really? I love it,” Eliza said. “Especially anything played in the outdoors.”

“Ugh,” Alice groaned, rolling her eyes as she leaned into Eliza from behind. “But don’t you hate to perspire? It’s so unladylike.”

“A necessary evil, I’m afraid,” Eliza said, pleased when Catherine laughed.

“Up the hill at the center of the woods is Billings Chapel. You can’t see it from here. But you can see Crenshaw House,” Catherine said, pointing a finger out the opposite window. “That’s where all the students’ quarters are. It used to be an orphanage, but the school bought it a few years back.”

A lump formed in Eliza’s throat, and she slid to the right side of the coach for a better look. Crenshaw loomed at the top of a grassy hill bordered by the woods, its walls an unattractive brown brick, its façade blunt and flat. It had a foreboding presence; the two large windows just above the door were positioned like glaring eyes.

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, Eliza saw a flicker of movement in one of the first-floor windows. She looked over just in time to see a shock of blond hair, and then the curtain fell back into place. A shiver of fear ran through her heart, and she hugged her arms to her chest.

“We’re separated by class on each floor, with fourth-years on the top floor and so on down,” Catherine went on. “The headmistress and staff have apartments on the first floor, to keep an eye on us.”

Eliza blinked. “So you can’t come or go without them hearing you?”

“Exactly,” Catherine replied. Then she glanced toward the driver’s bench, as if Mrs. Hodge could hear their voices over the pounding of the hooves and through the thick ceiling of the coach. “But some people find ways,” she added with a mischievous smile.

As the coach turned again, working its way down a slim country lane leading to the base of Crenshaw’s hill, Eliza heard a distinctly male shout. Alice squealed.

“There they are! Eliza! Come see! The Easton boys!” She gasped.

Obligingly, Eliza slid back to the other side of the coach. Several boys in shirtwaists, vests, and ties were horsing around on a green lawn, their sleeves rolled up, their caps tossed on the ground.

“I knew Easton Academy was close to Billings, but I didn’t realize how close,” Alice said excitedly, clasping her hands together under her chin.

“The woods around Billings Chapel border both the Easton campus and the Billings campus,” Catherine explained. “On weekends we’re allowed to visit the Easton grounds, and the boys are allowed to visit the Billings grounds. They often come over here to play games, because we have more open space on this side of the woods.”

“I say we get out and say hello,” Alice suggested.