Speculation died down after that and things got extremely dull. The day was gray and drizzly. The train moved slowly north. They played cards; Felix had some in an inside pocket. They bickered about inconsequential things. They were all getting a bit tetchy after being trapped in a coach for so long.
Around teatime Dimity threw down her cards petulantly. “Sophronia, you never warned me adventuring would be so dull and tea-less.”
“No, but Lady Linette did. She said when one was stalking a mark that great patience was required.”
“I missed that bit.” Dimity leaned back. “What I wouldn’t give for a nice pot of Assam with some of those little cream puffs with the sugar on top. This isn’t the life for me. It really isn’t.” She looked most unhappy. It lent her ridiculous getup an air of self-sacrifice. She made for such an unconvincing boy.
Felix looked at Dimity, intrigued. “I thought all of Mademoiselle Geraldine’s girls wanted to be intelligencers.”
“Do all of Bunson’s boys want to be evil geniuses, Lord Mersey?” Dimity responded, knowing with confidence that this was not the case. Her own brother objected to the principles of his school, and mooched through his studies in a very nonevil way.
“No, I suppose not. Then why bother?”
Dimity grimaced. “You haven’t met my mother.”
“No, I haven’t had that pleasure.”
“I’d avoid it if I were you.”
“Duly noted.”
“Dimity means to get herself married to a nice safe country squire or tuppenny knight. Spend the Season in London and the rest of the time out of all intrigue in the countryside. Although lately the countryside seems very excitable.”
“You mean, like a normal girl?” Felix looked not at all upset by this admission of limited ambition.
Dimity flushed and glared at Sophronia. “You aren’t supposed to tell a boy that!”
“As if he weren’t well aware of the marriage mart? If he isn’t yet, he should be. Once he circulates in society, he’s going to be prime nosh.”
“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not, Ria. You make me sound like a bun from the baker’s.”
“And a very tasty hot cross bun, unless I’m very much mistaken. Full of currants,” said Sophronia, speaking for all the chaperones in Felix’s social future.
Felix actually blushed.
Soap looked as if he might be moved to speak against such outright flirting. His face wore an expression of disapproval not unlike that of Professor Lefoux upon encountering something she deemed particularly frivolous.
Felix turned the conversation elegantly back to Dimity, saying gallantly, “Don’t you worry, Miss Plumleigh-Teignmott. I respect that choice. It seems eminently reasonable for a young lady of quality.” Was he purposefully testing Sophronia with that statement?
Sophronia couldn’t say anything. If she objected to his support of the normal path, she would insult Dimity. If she condoned it, her own choices were in question. Very nicely played. She gave Felix a nod of credit.
Sidheag, however, took offense. After all, she was off to probable spinsterhood and a very abnormal life choice—nanny to a band of discredited werewolf soldiers. She would have argued with Felix, but Sophronia put a hand to her arm and shook her head. Sidheag jerked away and went to stare out the window, annoyed now with both of them.
We are exhausted by each other’s company. Lady Linette had warned that such things were apt to happen at house parties. The only ones who seemed to be weathering the confining quarters well were Soap and Bumbersnoot. Sophronia supposed Soap was accustomed to being confined to engineering. Plus, he was content to let Sophronia handle bickering aristocrats. Bumbersnoot, on the other hand, was disposed to enjoy himself no matter what. A very doggy quality.
Sophronia wanted to ask Soap’s advice. He was unofficial mayor of the sooties; how did he lead them without constant dissent? She thought back over the course of their friendship, only now realizing how often he had given her counsel. Had this untenable romantic affection of his destroyed that as well? What will I do without him? When he’s gone off and turned claviger, I’ll no longer have any balance.
Soap saw her looking at him, her green eyes grave and pleading. He tilted his head at her in query. But there was no privacy to ask him anything. An uninformed decision had to be made. Fortunately, uninformed decisions were Sophronia’s speciality.
Sophronia said, into the silence of discontent that permeated the coach, “Are we agreed that there are few people on this train, possibly only Monique and three others?”
“Sophronia, what are you planning?” wondered Dimity, knowing that tone in her friend’s voice.
“Soap, how different are steam engines in trains from steam engines in dirigibles?”
“Not a great deal. I believe the basics are pretty much the same, miss.”
“Sidheag, you did a bit of stoking when we were down with the sooties, yes?”
“Of course, you know me, I never mind getting my hands dirty.”
Speaking of dirty, Felix gave Sidheag a very dirty look at that statement. “One simply can’t trust the Scottish aristocracy,” he grumbled.
Sophronia nodded, decision made. “Good. I think we should steal this train.”
Possibly as a result of being restless, possibly because they were accustomed to her outrageous ideas, there was no outcry at such a bold statement. Sophronia was a little disappointed.
Everyone looked mainly thoughtful.
“That sounds reasonable,” said Dimity. Dimity, of all people!
“We could get it going faster and straight toward home,” said Sidheag, brightening up substantially.
Even Soap, the voice of Sophronia’s reason, looked excited, if slightly peevish. “I’ve never driven a train before.”
Felix only blinked at them all in silent horrified wonder.
They pooled their resources.
Sophronia, with all her pockets, was the best equipped. Dimity and Sidheag both had red handkerchiefs, lemon-scented oils, and sewing shears. Sophronia gave her shears to Felix and her letter opener to Soap, preferring to rely on her new bladed fan. There was some discussion over the use of the obstructor—was it better applied in the aetherographic chamber? Finally, they decided Sophronia should take it with her to the locomotive cab. In case they needed to stop the train in a hurry, it could, theoretically, seize up the engine. Although Sophronia had never used it on anything so large.