Unseemly Ambition (19 page)

“
We’ll see. Whatever
possessed you to set it off in class? You know I cannot tolerate
that sort of disruption. And in front of Mrs. Isley,
too.”

“
It was an accident, Miss
Wells,” Maisie Lovelace said sheepishly. “I pulled it out of my
satchel to make room for a book, and the gear had some life left in
it. We’ll write a note of apology to Mrs. Isley,” she
added.

“
That’s not the only
apology you have to make,” Concordia said sternly. Noting the
partly-open classroom door, she closed it before continuing. “How
long are you going to allow Mr. Langdon’s buggy to reside in Bursar
Isley’s office? It has been over a week now.”

She waited through the silence. The
girls shifted from foot to foot, looking at Miss
Lovelace.

“
We were going to say
something right away, honestly,” Miss Lovelace said. “We thought
for sure they would figure out it was us, and we could put in
another plea for our program. But Mr. Langdon started looking into
whether the Trinity boys could have done it, and then it got into
the newspapers....”

“
You mustn’t let fear guide
your actions,” Concordia said. “
Courage is
resistance to fear, mastery of fear—not absence of
fear.
”

Miss Lovelace gave her a
quizzical look. “
Macbeth
?”

“
Pudd’nhead
Wilson
,” Concordia said.

Maisie Lovelace gave a weak
smile.

“
I will make the decision
easy for you,” Concordia said. “Either go to President Langdon
today and confess, or by supper-time I will tell him.”

They heard a polite tap on the
classroom door.

“
Come in!” Concordia
called.

David Bradley walked in. He hesitated,
taking in the sight of glum-looking students and a tight-lipped
Concordia.

“
Pardon me, ladies. I hope
I’m not interrupting?”

“
Not at all,” Concordia
said. “Come in, Mr. Bradley. We’re finished here.” She handed back
the students’ wind-up device. “Best to take care of your...task,
right away.”

The girls glanced at Mr. Bradley as
they shuffled past, nudging and whispering to each other, giving
Concordia a meaningful look as they walked out.

Land sakes.

“
What was that about?”
David asked.

Concordia shook her head. “Just
something between me and my girls.” She smiled, then checked her
watch. “Were we supposed to meet?”

David leaned against the desk and
regarded her warmly. “It feels like ages since I saw you, even
though it’s only been a few days.” He came closer. “You look
lovely.”

As Concordia was wearing only her
second-best pleated shirtwaist and a plain navy wool skirt at the
moment, she very much doubted she appeared at her best advantage.
Still, she blushed at the compliment, self-consciously groping for
the pencil that inevitably found its way into her topknot and
smoothing straggling wisps of hair back into their pins. “You are
too kind.” She turned away and grabbed her satchel case.
“Regrettably, I’m late for DeLacey House. Later this evening,
perhaps?”

David’s smile dimmed. “I have a
lecture. I’d hoped we could have tea in the faculty lounge, since
you’re finished with classes for the day. I haven’t seen you in a
while.”

Concordia saw the disappointment in
his eyes. “I’m sorry, David. I have an appointment.”

David held the door for her. “I see.
The lady principal wants you?”

Concordia hesitated. She
couldn’t tell David that she and Miss Hamilton were meeting with
the newspaper reporter. Heaven only knew how he’d react to
that
.

She tried to be as honest as she
could. “Miss Hamilton, actually.”

David’s expression brightened as they
walked up the path to DeLacey House. “I recall seeing her on campus
these past two weeks. Her niece just had a baby, is that
right?”

Concordia nodded
wordlessly, loathing all of the lies she was telling the man she
had just promised to marry.
Oh, what a
tangled web we weave…When first we practice to deceive!

“
Perhaps I can join you
two,” David offered. “I’m sure Miss Hamilton wouldn’t
mind.”

Now would be the time to tell him
about Eli’s disappearance, to explain that they were meeting Ben
Rosen in order to find answers that might bring them closer to
finding the boy.

And yet, she stayed silent, unsure how
to even begin.

As they approached the door
of DeLacey House, Concordia’s heart sank as she saw Mr. Rosen
ringing the bell. He tipped his bowler politely in their direction.
“G’afternoon, miss. Glad I’m not late.” He gave David Bradley a
puzzled look before his brow cleared. “Ah yes, I remember you. Mr.
Bradley, isn’t it? The Masquerade Ball last year.” Rosen extended a
hand. “Ben Rosen, from the
Courant.
”

David perfunctorily shook
his hand and turned to Concordia. “What is going on? You’re here to
meet
this man
?” His
voice was stiff with anger.

The front door opened and the maid
looked at them curiously when no one responded. “Miss Wells? Miss
Hamilton is expecting you and the gentleman in the
parlor.”

Concordia put a conciliatory hand on
David’s arm as Rosen raised an eyebrow. “I can explain
later.”

David shook off her hand and walked
away.

You shall more command
with years

Than with your
weapons.

Othello
, I.ii

Week 8, Instructor Calendar

March/April 1898

The parlor fire at DeLacey House
burned brightly in the grate, but it could do nothing for the chill
Concordia felt after watching David stalk off without a word. She
should have told him everything when she’d had the
chance.

But she didn’t have the luxury of
dwelling on that now. Mr. Rosen stood waiting for Concordia to take
her seat.

“
Tea, Mr. Rosen?” Miss
Hamilton offered, gesturing to the tray.

“
Got any coffee,
miss?”

“
I’m afraid not,” Miss
Hamilton said.

“
Then no, thanks. I cannot
abide tea. Only fit for the sickroom.” Rosen sat and put his hat on
a nearby chair. “Ladies, what can I do for you?”

Concordia glanced at Miss Hamilton.
How much should they reveal?

Miss Hamilton carefully plucked a
sugar cube with delicate tongs, stirred, and sipped before
answering. “We require information about an organization called the
Fraternal Order of the Black Scroll: its members, its mission, and
what its current activities might be.”

Rosen rubbed a hand through his
grizzled beard. He chuckled. “That’s all? Anything else? How ’bout
a private audience wi’ the queen?”

“
I know it’s asking a great
deal,” Miss Hamilton said, unruffled, “but were the information
easily acquired, we would have done it ourselves.”

Rosen grunted. “I’ll bet you would
have.” He pointed a thumb toward Penelope Hamilton and asked
Concordia, “Is she a lady sleuth too?”

Concordia stiffened. “Certainly
not.”

Mercy,
she’d told a number of lies today. What would her minister
say?

“
Then why d’you want to
know about the Black Scroll?” Rosen asked.

“
Let us just say we’re
concerned about a...relative...who is a member. We want to know
more about what he may be involved in,” Miss Hamilton
said.

“
Ah, you think something
illegal’s going on?” Rosen’s eyes brightened. “Say, that sounds
promising.”

“
We don’t know for sure,
you understand,” Concordia broke in quickly. “That’s why we need
you to look into it. Will you help us?” She gestured to the purse
beside Miss Hamilton. “We can pay you.”

“
Well, I don’t think you’re
bein’ quite honest with me,” Rosen said warily, “but I never turned
away a greenback in my life. I’ve heard of the Black Scroll, the
name at least. I should be able to find out something. All right,
miss, you have a deal. But I want the exclusive on this, if it
turns out to be a story worth printing.”

“
When the time is right,”
Miss Hamilton answered. “For now, it must be a
discreet
inquiry.”

“
Of course.”

Miss Hamilton passed him half the
bills, which he stuffed in his jacket pocket. He picked up his hat
and stood. “I’ll contact you by the end of the week. Is there
anything else I should know?”

Concordia and Penelope
Hamilton exchanged a long look.
Should we
tell him about the Inner Circle?
was the
unspoken question between them. Concordia wondered if they were
sending Mr. Rosen on a dangerous errand, and groping blind.
Shouldn’t he know about Florence’s murder and Eli’s disappearance?
Rosen would then be in a better position to help. But could they
trust him?

Rosen eyed them quizzically as the
silence lengthened.

“
We should tell him,”
Concordia finally said aloud.

Miss Hamilton sighed. “You’re right.”
She gestured to Rosen. “You’d better sit back down. My apologies
for not being as forthcoming as we should.” She gave Concordia a
quick glance. “Let us hope you’re inclined to take on this job
after you learn the whole story.”

After Rosen left—still willing to
help, thankfully—Concordia asked, “What do we do next?”

“
I have an appointment
tomorrow with the Hartford station train conductor who has been
away,” Miss Hamilton said. “He may have some of the answers we
need.”

Week 8, Instructor Calendar

March/April 1898

Concordia returned to Willow Cottage,
where a flurry of packing was underway.

“
Don’t take too much,”
Concordia warned, as she caught sight of one girl lugging two
suitcases from the storeroom, “it’s only a week, after
all.”

“
Ooh, but Miss Wells,” she
said excitedly, “I’ve been invited to Miss Smedley’s country house!
I’ll need my best dresses, and Mabel has promised to lend me her
riding outfit, and—”

“
Have a wonderful time,”
Concordia said, cutting across what promised to be a lengthy
description of the young lady’s wardrobe necessities.
“Have you seen Ruby?”

“
In her room,
packing.”

“
Packing?” Ruby never left
for the spring recess.

Concordia went down the hall to the
bedroom behind the kitchen and knocked.

“
Ruby?”

“
Come on in, miss,” Ruby
called. “I’m jes’ finishing up.”

Concordia pushed open the door. “Where
are you going?”

“
To my sister’s, in New
Haven,” Ruby said, struggling with a suitcase buckle. “Well, you
needn’t look so surprised,” she added tartly, noting Concordia’s
raised eyebrow. “I got family, and like to take a vacation as much
as the rest o’ you.”

“
Of course,” Concordia said
hastily, “I’m only surprised. You didn’t say anything about it
before.”

“
I didn’t know I needed
your ’pproval,” Ruby muttered under her breath.

Concordia took a step back, confused.
She’d known Ruby for several years now, and thought she’d seen all
of her moods. But this sulky defensiveness had never been one of
them. What was going on?

Judging from the set of the woman’s
jaw, pressing her now wasn’t going to get an answer.

“
Well, I’ll leave you to
it, then. Have a good visit,” Concordia said hesitantly, and closed
the door behind her.

Concordia clambered around several
luggage-laden students in the hallway—why did the girls feel
compelled to pack all of their worldly belongings for an eight-day
visit home? Her own rooms were probably the safest place away from
the hubbub. She dearly needed a cup of tea, and time alone to
think.

She stopped short when she saw Maisie
Lovelace walk through the front door. One glance at the girl’s
tear-streaked face told Concordia that the interview with President
Langdon had not gone well. She went over to her, putting her arm
around the girl’s shoulders. “Let’s go to my rooms where we can
talk.”

Miss Lovelace sagged into a chair and
put her face in her hands as Concordia closed the door. “We’ve been
ex-expelled,” she moaned.

Concordia had feared as much.
President Langdon, though not generally a strict disciplinarian,
was understandably distressed about his brand-new buggy being stuck
in Bursar Isley’s office for the last ten days. Then there was the
newspaper publicity, too.

“
I take it he was quite
angry,” Concordia said.

Miss Lovelace nodded. “The dean and
bursar came in when they heard Mr. Langdon shouting, and that just
made things worse. It was Dean Maynard and Bursar Isley who
insisted that we be expelled. We are to remove the buggy during
spring recess, and then leave. For...for good.”