When a Rogue Falls

by Caroline Linden

  Theo didn’t know how to answer the question. She’d spent most of her life with only her mother and servants for company until her brother had returned from Eton. However, he was much older than she. She’d always possessed her own room, her own space—even though she’d secretly longed for a sibling closer to her in years; a sister to share her dream with, to accompany her on adventures about her family gardens, or just to act as a companion to laugh with during the long, dark nights.

  “A shared room is preferred, Headmistress,” Theo answered.

  “Do call me Emmeline or Miss Emmeline, dear.” The woman’s tone was still stark, but Theo suspected she tried to put her new pupil at ease. “Now, to decide on whom you shall room with it is necessary to discover your talents.”

  A sense of dread washed over Theo as the woman smiled for the first time, her lips pulling back to reveal tea-stained, crooked teeth.

  “And how shall we find my talents?” Theo gulped after asking, a clammy moisture overtaking her clasped palms.

  “Oh, I have devised a fine method for ascertaining the strengths and weaknesses of each of my girls,” the headmistress said in a whisper as if they were plotting a grand scheme together. “I dare say, I would have made an excellent teacher in the applied sciences.”

  Theo felt encouraged that Miss Emmeline knew what the applied sciences were. It hinted that her days would not be filled with learning social etiquette and needlepoint and utterly neglecting all other subjects: arithmetic, geography, science, and history.

  Theo’s exhaustion receded as the woman continued. “Each girl is asked to present in three different departments of learning: academics, art and music, and a physical sport. Based on their choices for each—and how well they do at their chosen talent—I select which room each pupil is assigned to.” Theo had to admit, it was an interesting method to determine sleeping arrangements. “It is also necessary for each student to learn something from her roommates during their stay at my school.”

  It was sound methodology, and Theo could not deduce a flaw in the headmistress’s plan, though she was extremely tired and her mind had been sluggish since her arrival at the school.

  “Are you ready?” Miss Emmeline asked as she stood.

  “I am to present now?” Theo squeaked. She thought to have a day—or at least a night—to ponder her known talents before being presented to the other students. Even a decent meal would be appreciated. “Is it not nearly time for the evening repast?”

  “You will need a bed in a few short hours, correct?”

  “Yes, but…“ Theo quickly stood, running her hands down the front of her wrinkled traveling gown. It would be the height of embarrassment to be seen by the entire school in such a filthy dress. They would think her nothing more than a country miss. Not that Theo had ever labored over long regarding the opinions of others, but her time at Miss Emmeline’s was important to her.

  “You are correct, all of the girls will be gathering shortly for our evening meal.” The headmistress touched her coal-stained hands to her upswept, mousey brown hair before running them down the front of her dark grey dress—leaving behind a trail of black streaks. “Wait here while I ready the girls in the music room for your first talent. I will send Miss Dires to collect you when all are seated.” The fear must have shown clearly on Theo’s face for the headmistress hurriedly added, “Do not fret. Every girl is called upon on her first day here.”

  Nothing about her reassurance made Theo feel…reassured, but at least it completely dispelled her fatigue as anxiousness set in. Her heart beat at an erratic rate.

  The moments passed, feeling like hours as Theo awaited Miss Dires. She progressed from exhaustion to anxiousness to outright dread. She scanned the headmistress’s desk for a blank piece of paper. How long would a note, begging her mother to rescue her, take to arrive in London? Certainly longer than Theo had before she was called to the music room.

  Dashing her final hope of avoiding the coming discomfiture, Miss Dires returned and motioned for Theo to follow, her smile kind. Upon closer inspection, Theo noted the woman’s slight limp as she walked—maybe she was older than she appeared.

  The music room was off the main hallway—the only hallway Theo had seen since her arrival—and boasted high ceilings with several chandeliers for light. Large, long cracks in the walls could be seen from the doorway. The door she entered was at the front of the room, and belatedly Theo realized that while she’d been taking in the architecture and disrepair of the space, the other girls had been given the opportunity to inspect her.

  Theo thought it best to keep focused on the task at hand and not the many eyes assessing her.

  On the raised dais was a piano, a harpsichord, harp-lute, dital harp, a flute, table of bells, and a guitar—all positioned far enough apart to enable the entire audience an unobscured view of Theo.

  Theo hadn’t applied herself to any musical instruments, outside of the occasional lesson at the piano. She’d studied many varieties of harps at the museum where Cart was an assistant curator, but she’d never touched one. Wind instruments were not in her repertoire, as her brother had never allowed her to even so much as hold the Greek panpipe—purportedly crafted by Hermes himself—that resided in his collection. As soon as Theo had a moment to herself, she planned to write a strongly worded letter to Cart, denouncing his actions at not allowing her a turn with the panpipe. Certainly, it was a severe detriment to her learning career. Since wind instruments were out, she took in the bells and guitar—both beyond her realm of knowledge, as well. There was no hope—not a single instrument did Theo feel competent in performing with.

  “Students of Miss Emmeline’s School of Education and Decorum for Ladies of Outstanding Quality, please welcome Lady Theodora Montgomery—though she prefers Lady Theo or just plain Theo.” The words rolled off the headmistress’s tongue as if she said them daily, and no tongue twisting was necessary to say the name five times. “Lady Theo will first apply her hand to a musical talent—either the piano, harp, guitar, bells, or vocals.”

  Theo’s singing voice was dreadful—far too high to be anything but a screech.

  “Next, she will present her academic talent,” the headmistress continued. “Lastly, her physical sport, which we will all adjourn to the outdoors for. When everything is complete, we will return to the dining hall for our nightly meal.”

  A loud cheer with reserved clapping filled the room; however, Theo wasn’t sure if they applauded her or their promised meal. The only thing she was willing to celebrate at the moment was a warm bed—it did not even need to be comfortable, only cozy…and quiet.

  Though she doubted with all these students Miss Emmeline’s was ever a quiet place.

  Theo surveyed the many instruments before her. There was truly no choice to be made—it was the piano, or flee the room in disgrace.

  With a weak smile to the gathered crowd, Theo sat behind the piano and set her fingers to the ivory keys as she’d been taught. The keys were smooth under her touch from years of use. Her nails were chipped from toting her luggage from the carriage, and her hands were pale and clammy. It was odd these were her thoughts as she sat before roughly forty girls her age while they awaited her piano solo.

  Theo was most comfortable reading about adventure and tense situations from the comfort of a soft chair, snuggled under a warm blanket with a fire roaring nearby—or in the garden under a large shade tree with the sun beaming. To actually be an active participate in such a situation was entirely different than reading about it in a book. The sensation of her blood humming through her veins in anticipation, her labored breathing caused by her nerves, and the sheen of perspiration was something no writer could accurately describe with the written word. She tucked the theory into the back of her mind, planning to write her brother about it as soon as she’d had some rest. It made for an interesting observation, certainly, something they could discuss during her Christmastide holiday.

  The thought of home and her family brough
t Theo a bit of comfort. She was here, in Canterbury, and they were in London. Her brother was sacrificing much to afford the tuition at Miss Emmeline’s School, and Theo knew she could not disappoint him or her mother by begging off and crying to return home.

  With a calming breath, her fingers began to move across the keys in a melody she’d only played a half-dozen times, though the memory of the music sheet with the notes was clear in her mind. All she need do is concentrate on visualizing the sheet music and block out the rustling of clothes, the various whispered comments between girls, the echo of a book being dropped onto the hard floor, and the congested cough coming from the back of the room.

  The tones floated about, bouncing off the bare, cracked walls and high ceiling, slower than the composer had intended, but in line with Theo’s musical ability. She’d rather play at her leisure with accuracy than speed through the intended music and risk missing a key change. It was a soft melody, increasing in tempo as the song progressed. She pictured the final line of notes as her fingers found their rhythm and sped up, pushing gently on the smooth keys.

  Only a few strokes left, and it would be over; she’d be able to move on to something a bit more familiar to her.

  A door slammed somewhere in the room, and Theo’s hands slipped across the keys in fright at the sudden noise, the song ending on a sharp note and not the quieter culmination intended for the piece.

  Laughter broke out, and several instructors could be heard shushing the girls.

  Theo kept her eyes on the piano, and her head lowered, afraid to face the merriment currently taking over the room at her less than stellar performance.

  “Wonderful rendition, Lady Theodora,” the headmistress said, returning to the stage. “And now, it is time for presentation of your academic talent.”

  Theo hadn’t thought past her time in the musical round. Certainly, she had many talents revolving around academia, and selecting one should not be overly difficult, but any knowledge she possessed had fled with the other student’s laughter in the face of her last failure.

  Standing from the piano, Theo made a show of returning the bench to rest slightly under the keys. It gave her a moment to think.

  “Many of our girls focus on history for their talent—Lady Josephine is skilled at reciting every British monarch going back five hundred years. Miss Alexandria has memorized every great battle in recorded history. Others find great interest in the sciences or literature, expounding on formulas or reciting lengthy poems.” The room became still and silent as Miss Emmeline spoke, even Theo found herself holding her breath. “I will give you a moment to prepare. Remember to speak loudly and clearly so all can hear.”

  There was no mention of her missed final key—nor words of encouragement for success in the next round, and Theo sensed the headmistress was not one to coddle her students.

  Theo raised her gaze to the crowd, noting the various clusters of girls. Many whispered behind their hands or paid her no mind at all. She spotted one pupil drawing in a notebook. Theo brought her hand to her long braids. Most of the girls favored a more mature look with their hair loose around their shoulders or upswept in elegant fashion rivaling many of the women Theo had seen shopping on Bond Street or promenading in Hyde Park.

  The headmistress cleared her throat.

  “May I return to your office and retrieve something?” Theo asked.

  “Of course, Lady Theodora.”

  Theo cringed at the use of her full name; even her mother had acquiesced to calling her Theo when in private. More giggling could be heard circling the room as she fled the same way she’d entered. She found her way back to the office and snatched her book of maps, holding it close to her chest as she returned to the main room.

  Theo knew the talent she planned to show was highly obscure, but with such a short time to decide and no time to prepare—and the haze that had settled over her due to her exhaustion—this was the best she could do.

  The headmistress clapped, calling everyone back to their seats, and Theo returned to her place at the head of the room.

  “What have you chosen as your academic talent, Lady Theo?” Miss Dires asked from her seat between two groups of girls close to the front of the room.

  The woman’s encouraging smile pushed Theo to speak. “I have a great passion for maps.” Again, the other students moved about restlessly, losing interest in Theo’s presentation, but she continued. “One of my talents is spotting mistakes within books—namely, volumes filled with maps.”

  A few Oohs and Ahhs could be heard around the room, though they were said with a certain mocking intent.

  For the second time since her arrival, Theo deliberated writing to her mother and begging Lady Cartwright to come collect her; stating she’d been horribly wrong in her decision to seek an education outside the tutors available for hire in London.

  Even now, Theo could be ensconced in her family’s library, debating the merits of the scientific principles with Cart and his wife, Judith. Or playing with Olivia and Samuel, her niece and nephew. Instead, she was far from home, surrounded by a roomful of strangers who had no interest in her or her talents.

  Theo opened her book to a marked page and held it high for all to see. “For example, here, on page seventeen, the illustrator mislabeled two cities in France, and utterly forgot to add the Sicilian Island off the coast of Italy.”

  Miss Dires, bless her kind soul, motioned for Theo to approach her so she could have a closer look at the text. Next, Theo moved down the front row of girls, showing them the erroneous errors.

  “In this book alone, I’ve found forty-two such inaccuracies.”

  “And what exactly do you do with this knowledge?” Miss Emmeline asked from the stage.

  Theo smiled at a blonde girl in the front row as she inspected the page before she returned to the headmistress’s side. “Nothing at this time, but my future plan is to work with mapmakers to increase their accuracy in not only their labeling, but also land proportion versus oceans. I would also like to consult on a new method of tracking elevations on printed maps.”

  “Very commendable of you.” Miss Emmeline nodded, her first sign of approval since Theo’s arrival. “We all wish you the best in your endeavors.”

  Theo allowed a small grin to settle on her lips, then closed her book and tucked it under her arm. Her presentation had gone far quicker than she’d expected—and had not been as embarrassing as her piano performance—though she suspected her talent in academics was no more fascinating to the gathered girls than her song choice.

  “Next, we shall all venture outside.” Everyone stood as if they’d been waiting for the chance to escape the indoors. “Lady Theo, please inform me if you’ll need to change into a riding habit.”

  Dread infused Theo. She’d never in all her days ridden a horse, nor did she own a riding habit. Her mother had spoken of the need to acquire the skill, but the large beasts frightened Theo. Even when she journeyed to the stables, she steered clear of their stalls, preferring to sit in the straw and cuddle the ever present kittens. “No, Miss Emmeline.”

  “Very well.” The headmistress waved her arm in the direction of the double doors—pushed wide to reveal a grassy area with several stations, each housing equipment for various outdoor activities, most Theo didn’t recognize. She followed the rest of the girls outside, the sun beginning to set on the far horizon. The headmistress stopped beside her and spoke once more. “We also have a lake not far away if your talent lies in rowing.”

  “Rowing?” Theo gulped. No amount of studying books had prepared her for all of this. “No, certainly not.”

  The other teachers, along with the students, hurried to an area set up for spectators and watched with anticipation as Theo walked between the five stations. Two held gear she could not identify or align with a known sporting activity. Another was set up with shuttlecock, a game she’d seen played at several garden parties she’d accompanied her mother to, but Theo had never bothered to learn the rules. Mo
ving along, the next station held a row of guns—she didn’t even bother with pausing to inspect them. The final area had a row of pegs with archery bows hanging in perfect order from a half-wall obviously erected for the sporting area. Several yards away, a line of hay-stuffed targets with red and white circles painted on them stood, each dotted with holes from use.

  Theo and Cart had studied force and trajectory just months before as Silliman’s Journal had dedicated an entire volume to the principles behind the study. They’d spent days dropping different items from the roof of their London home—much to their mother’s dismay—and skimming rocks across the ponds in many of London’s parks. They’d calculated the force and angle necessary to accurately throw a pebble across the water as opposed to the power needed to do the same with a much larger rock.

  Surely their discoveries could be applied to the use of an archery bow and arrow.

  Theo eyed the various sizes of bows hanging from the pegs as she calculated in her head the distance to the target and the length of the weapons. Though her thoughts were muddled, she should fair far better at archery than at the piano—and if not, an unpredictable flying arrow would captivate her audience more than her skills at error detection.

  “You can use my bow,” a dark-haired girl stepped up beside her and retrieved one from its peg.

  “Thank you,” Theo said with a tentative smile.

  “I am Josie—err, Lady Josephine.” The girl returned Theo’s smile. She was one of the students who preferred to allow her hair freedom from its pins; her long, brown tresses—almost the exact color of Theo’s—hanging loosely about her shoulders.

  “I am Theo.” She immediately regretted her words as the headmistress had introduced her before the entire gathering in the music room. “Thank you, again.”

  “Good luck,” Josie called before hurrying back to the spectator area—or maybe it was the safest spot to watch when arrows were being shot.

  Theo would need more than luck to hit the target, or even come close. Testing the weight of the bow in her hands, she moved to the square directly in front of the closest target and took an arrow from the quiver propped up by a wooden stand. The projectile’s tip was not pointed but flat, reducing the chances of injury if a perilous shot resulted in a stray arrow. The shaft was made of a flexible wood with feathers connected to the end. She combed through her collective memories in search of a diagram she’d seen that featured an archer in a readied stance for a shot.