The Book of Spells (Private 0.50)

Eliza whipped around suddenly, loosening herself from Marilyn’s grasp. There was no one behind her. No one anywhere in sight.

“Eliza? What is it? What is wrong?” Marilyn asked, following Eliza’s startled gaze.

Eliza swallowed a terrified lump in her throat and turned around again. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

But then, she saw something move in one of the Crenshaw windows. Her blood stopped cold. The movement had come from the window all the way at the far end of the first floor—the very same window in which she had noticed something flicker during the carriage ride from the train. This time, however, the blonde watching her didn’t duck away. Instead, she stayed and stared, her eyes as blank as stones.

It was Helen Jennings, the maid, who undoubtedly had seen everything.

Her Very Nature

“Do you think she’s tattled on us yet?” Theresa asked, running to catch up with Catherine and Eliza as they walked into the Prescott dining hall the next morning. She glared at Helen, who stood with Mrs. Hodge near the wall behind Miss Almay’s table, at the headmistress’s beck and call as always. Helen had her eyes trained on her feet. “Look at her, so smug. Doesn’t she know I could have her fired right now if I wanted to?”

“You wouldn’t,” Eliza protested.

“Wouldn’t I? I’ll wager she has told,” Theresa continued. “She has that look about her. Anything to please the headmistress. Probably went to Miss Almay with her hand out, looking for some kind of reward.”

“Theresa, please,” Catherine said as she pulled out a chair at their assigned table and seated herself.

“Helen seems like a nice girl,” Eliza said, sitting as well. “Perhaps she’s said nothing.”

Theresa laughed derisively. “She’s a servant, Eliza,” she said, opening her napkin with a snap and folding it in her lap. “They’re always looking to make an extra buck.”

Eliza cast an appalled look at Theresa. One of the servers rushed forward to fill their water glasses. As soon as the girl had scurried away again, Eliza spoke.

“Theresa. How can you lump all of the serving class together?” Eliza asked. “Everyone is different.”

“It’s not as if I’m saying it’s her fault,” Theresa replied, rolling her eyes. “It’s simply in her very nature.”

Eliza forced herself to keep her tongue. This was neither the time nor the place to debate matters of class. Soon Alice, Viola, and Bia had filled the other three seats at their table. Viola kept her hands folded in her lap. Bia’s every movement was a flinch, and she knocked her silverware from the table more than once. Alice had nary a conjecture about what the boys might be doing right then, and Catherine kept glancing up at the headmistress as if waiting for her to bring down the hatchet on all of them.

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. B