KNIGHTLEY ACADEMY

by Violet Haberdasher

  “I can’t see you turned out on the street, or sent home in shame. Not when the offense is so gray and so muddled. I know my daughter, and I have no doubt that she did as she wished, no matter what you told her. And I can’t in good conscience ruin all three of our lives because of her actions.”

  “So we’re not expelled?” Henry asked, hardly daring to believe it.

  “Suspended,” Headmaster Winter said. “Pending a hearing with the board of trustees. It’s the best I can do without seeming to favor the two of you, do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” the boys chorused gratefully.

  “You will also be serving all-day detention with your head of year until the board can gather for your hearing.”

  Henry’s hope gave way. No, they weren’t expelled, but was this truly any better? Suspended. Not allowed to go to class. All-day detention with Lord Havelock.

  “Sir?” Henry began. “What are the odds that the board of trustees will let us stay?”

  Headmaster Winter shook his head. “I can’t say. Of course, I will speak in your defense, and you are welcome to ask any of your professors for character recommendations. But all hope should not be lost, do you understand? I’m certain you boys will find a way to fix this, to put everything back together as it should be.”

  Henry frowned. It sounded as though Headmaster Winter was talking about something else besides their suspension. As though the headmaster knew about the sabotage, or guessed. As though the headmaster was on their side, or as far over the line of adult impartiality as he dared to step.

  And that gave Henry renewed hope.

  “Thank you, sir,” Henry said.

  “Yes, thank you,” Adam echoed.

  “Now, you’re to attend chapel in the morning, eat your breakfast in the kitchen, and then report to Lord Havelock in his office. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” the boys mumbled.

  “Hope! Vigilance! Truth!” the headmaster called as they wrenched the heavy door closed behind them.

  “This is horrible,” Henry muttered as they headed back to their room.

  “My parents are going to kill me,” Adam moaned.

  “Yeah, well, at least you’ve got somewhere to go home to if we are expelled,” Henry said quietly.

  “Right. Sorry,” Adam murmured, embarrassed. “I’m sure my family would love you, though.”

  “Thanks for the offer.” Henry shook his head sadly. He’d failed, and Lord Havelock had won. How was he possibly going to gather evidence that Lord Havelock had been sabotaging them while serving detention under Lord Havelock’s disapproving stare?

  But then, what did it matter anymore, anyway?

  FEELINGS OF FAILURE

  Adam wouldn’t sit still. He prowled their room that evening, pacing back and forth until Henry threw down his book and said, “Would you calm down?”

  “I can’t!” Adam cried miserably. “Rohan’s expelled and Frankie’s going off to finishing school and we’ve got a death sentence, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Henry said darkly.

  “How can you just lie there?” Adam accused.

  “I dunno,” Henry said sarcastically. “Maybe because I’m too afraid to do anything else?”

  “Let’s go and see Professor Stratford,” Adam whined.

  Henry sighed and shook his head.

  “Why not?” Adam pressed.

  “He lost his job,” Henry said quietly. “He lost his job at the Midsummer School so I could come to Knightley Academy. I can’t very well go tell him that I’ve been suspended—possibly expelled—and everything he did for me is wrecked.”

  “He’d probably prefer to hear it from you, mate,” Adam said.

  “You just want to see Frankie,” Henry accused.

  “And what if I do? She’s in as much trouble as we are, maybe more. If you’ve already given up, why not go say good-bye?”

  “I haven’t given up,” Henry said. “I just need some time.”

  “Well, take all the time you want,” Adam said angrily. “Meanwhile the Nordlands are invading with their combat-trained army, but never you mind, just sit there and read a book.”

  Henry sighed.

  How could he explain to Adam that the only reason he’d been reading a book was to try and escape into another story, one that didn’t involve his being on the brink of expulsion from Knightley and the end of everything that had ever made him happy?

  “I’m sorry,” Adam said. “I know you’re just trying to cope with all this. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Henry said. “I’m sorry too. And you’re right, we should go to see Professor Stratford. And Frankie.”

  Henry put on his coat and began lacing his boots.

  Triumphantly, Adam did the same.

  “You’re just in time,” Ellen said when they turned up at the doorstep of the headmaster’s house.

  “In time for what?” Henry murmured as she led them up the back staircase to Professor Stratford’s office.

  The door was ajar, and Ellen left Henry and Adam without bothering to announce their presence.

  “Hello?” Henry called, pushing open the door.

  Professor Stratford had a suitcase open on his desk and was busy piling books inside of it.

  Henry felt as though the floor had given way beneath him, as though he were falling and had no idea if the landing would be soft—or if he even wanted it to be.

  “What’s happened?” Henry asked.

  “Been fired,” Professor Stratford said with a sad smile.

  “What for?” Adam asked boldly.

  “Oh, what I’m always fired for,” Professor Stratford said. “Have a seat. I’d like the company, if you’ve nowhere else to be.”

  “Nowhere else,” Henry said, daring Adam to tell the professor the whole of it.

  “Lady Winter recently discovered that I was teaching her granddaughter Latin, that I allowed her granddaughter to read the Greeks instead of pretty little novels, and that, generally, I am ‘exactly the sort of bad influence that encourages Miss Winter’s frightful behavior.’ ”

  Professor Stratford frowned sourly and put a spare pair of shoes into his suitcase.

  Henry sighed.

  “I don’t think you’re a bad influence at all,” Henry said. “What are you going to do now?”

  “Back to the City,” Professor Stratford said. “Find work tutoring for the rest of the term, if I can. It’s not as though I have any letters of recommendation from my last two employers.”

  “I’m really sorry,” Henry said.

  “It’s nothing I haven’t brought upon myself,” the professor said. “I’m always overstepping. First with you, and now with Frances—with Frankie.”

  “When are you leaving?” Henry asked.

  “Last train of the night is at half nine. I should just catch it,” Professor Stratford said.

  “I’ve been suspended,” Henry blurted, and then hung his head. “Adam and I both. And possibly expelled, pending a hearing with the board of trustees.”

  “Oh, Henry,” the professor said sadly. “And Adam.”

  “I tried so hard not to, but I failed anyway,” Henry said.

  “You haven’t failed,” Professor Stratford said. “You’re still here, aren’t you? You’ve just got less time than you’d thought. But you have to show everyone that you were being sabotaged, that the headmaster wasn’t wrong about you.”

  “How?” Henry asked miserably.

  “You’ll think of something,” Professor Stratford said. “I have no doubt.”

  “But what about the Nordlands?” Adam asked.

  “That too,” Professor Stratford said. “It’s all on your shoulders now to let everyone know what’s coming. Sometimes the hardest thing isn’t making people believe what they don’t want to believe, but whom they don’t want to believe.”

  Henry smiled sadly.

  Professor Stratford, who always sounded as th
ough he was quoting, who had risked his job so Henry could attend Knightley, who had been the closest thing to family Henry had known, was leaving.

  “I don’t want you to go,” Henry said.

  “Everything will turn out all right,” Professor Stratford said bravely.

  “What about Frankie?” Adam pressed.

  The professor winced and looked away.

  “What?” Henry asked.

  “She’ll be going away to school,” Professor Stratford said.

  “She hated that school,” Henry protested. “And I don’t blame her; it sounded horrible.”

  “Actually, Lady Winter has arranged for Frankie to attend a reformatory in the Alpine Mountains.”

  “A reformatory?” Henry repeated, stunned.

  “In the Alpine Mountains?” Adam echoed.

  Professor Stratford nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  “But Frankie doesn’t belong at a reformatory,” Henry cried. “The girls who go to places like that have done terrible things! It’s hardly better than a jail!”

  Professor Stratford shook his head. “In Lady Winter’s opinion, it is the only option they have not tried. Frankie leaves in three days. They are arranging her passage as we speak.”

  Henry and Adam exchanged a horrified look.

  Frankie was really going off to a foreign reform school. Professor Stratford was fired. Rohan was expelled. And they were the last two standing, but not for much longer, if the board of trustees had anything to say about it.

  “Don’t despair,” Professor Stratford said. “Find whatever happiness you have left and hold on to it, do you hear me?”

  Henry nodded. Adam bit his lip and tucked his hands into his pockets.

  “I’ll try,” Henry said bravely. “I’ll try to fix this. After all, there’s nothing left to lose, is there?”

  Professor Stratford smiled crookedly. “That’s the spirit.”

  And with a tearful round of good-byes, Henry and Adam left Professor Stratford and his half-packed suitcase, trying to find the tiniest pinpoint of happiness in that disaster of a week.

  Henry fell asleep still trying.

  ***

  “Still here, then?” Theobold asked at chapel the next morning.

  “Why wouldn’t we be?” Henry returned.

  “No reason,” Theobold said, turning back around in the pew with a knowing smirk.

  “I really hate him,” Adam whispered.

  Henry rolled his eyes in agreement.

  And just then, the priest launched into a not-very-subtle sermon on the virtues of keeping a good reputation.

  Henry headed for the kitchen after chapel with an odd sense of déjà vu. After all, there he was once again in the halls of a boys’ school, forbidden from attending class with the other students.

  “This is just like that night we snuck down here for strawberry tarts,” Adam said, pushing open the door to the kitchen.

  Well, that was one way of thinking about it.

  The kitchen was boiling, and Henry immediately began to sweat beneath his tightly buttoned collar and tie.

  The cook, a man as wide as the stove, whistled as he scrambled a massive pan of eggs. In the corner by the crockery, a group of maids were setting up the tea services for professors who had elected to take that morning’s meal in their offices.

  Their old friend Liza looked up from sorting a pile of silverware and grinned. “Well, if it isn’t Master Henry and Master Adam!”

  “Hello,” Henry said, uncomfortably aware that every member of the serving staff was either obviously watching or obviously listening to this exchange.

  “I tol’ Mary ’bout it bein’ you in the library that night,” Liza continued, wiping her hands on her apron. “An’ she laughed and laughed because she’d swore it was a ghost.”

  “I did no such thing, Liza!” Mary protested from next to the china cupboard. “I was terrorfied, I was!”

  “Right,” Henry said shyly.

  In all the excitement of the past few weeks, he’d forgotten about Liza. But there she was, as cheerful as ever, and it made Henry feel guilty that he hadn’t even bothered to stop in and say hello.

  “So wot brings the two o’ you to the kitchen this mornin’?” Liza asked.

  Henry blushed. It seemed the rest of the kitchen staff was rather wondering the same thing. Two of the serving boys had given up all pretense of arranging the breakfast platters and instead were staring warily at Henry and Adam.

  “Oh, er—,” Henry began.

  “We’re in loads of trouble,” Adam said happily, unaffected by their audience. “Heaps. So we’re to eat breakfast in the kitchen today.”

  “An’ they were going to tell us about this when?” Liza said angrily. “Well, come on, dearies, grab some toast and jam before the boys take ’em to the tables.”

  Henry took a few slices of toast and began buttering them.

  He tried to imagine what it would be like to work in the stifling kitchens again, hastily eating a slice of bread before serving hot meals to the boys who sat in their uniforms, laughing and joking at the tables. Surely a few months at Knightley hadn’t changed him too much to humble himself with servants’ work, studying his books in the evenings.

  But as soon as he thought this, Henry wondered if he was going mad. Things couldn’t go back to the way they were before Knightley. He had changed. And no one would ever believe the truth about the Nordlands if he were nothing but a lowly servant.

  No, it would be horrible if he and Adam were expelled. Not just horrible but catastrophic.

  Henry passed half of his stack of toast to Adam, and said, “Let’s go.”

  “We can’t eat here?” Adam whined.

  “We’re in the way,” Henry said. “And anyway, we need to see Sir Frederick.”

  “What for?”

  “Character recommendations for our hearing.”

  “Oh, right,” Adam said with a longing glance at the teapot.

  “I can take the service to Sir Frederick’s office, if he’s ordered one,” Henry told Liza, knowing that Sir Frederick rarely ate his meals at the High Table.

  “Well, I never!” Liza said, putting her hand to her chest. “If that ain’t the kindest thing.”

  Henry took the tea service from Liza and promised to come back and visit soon, though he doubted he’d be around long enough for that.

  Sir Frederick was in his office when the boys arrived, sorting a box of microscope slides.

  “Come in, boys,” Sir Frederick said, and Henry set the tea service on the professor’s desk with a bow, just as he had at the Midsummer School.

  Adam snorted.

  “What seems to be amusing, Mr. Beckerman?” Sir Frederick asked, squinting at a glass slide.

  “Nothing, sir,” Adam said. “Well, it’s just, Professor Turveydrop used to yell at Henry for bowing like—”

  “Like a servant bringing in the tea,” Henry finished with a smile. It was funny, come to think of it.

  Sir Frederick took an austere sip of his tea and raised an eyebrow. “How can I help you boys?”

  “We were hoping for character recommendations,” Henry said. “We’ve been suspended, and the board of trustees makes the final ruling as to whether we’re to be expelled.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Sir Frederick said, clattering his teacup into its saucer. “But I am also a member of the board of trustees, and that capacity prevents me from being able to speak in your behalf.”

  Henry tried not to let his despair show. He’d been counting on Sir Frederick to help them.

  “Thank you anyway,” Henry said. “We should be getting to our detention.”

  “The common good will prevail,” Sir Frederick called after them.

  In the hallway, Henry groaned.

  “Sorry it didn’t work out, mate,” Adam said. “What about Professor Lingua?”

  “Forget it,” Henry said moodily.

  “It was just a suggestion,” Adam huffed, handing Henry his na
pkin-wrapped stack of toast. “Now eat your breakfast. I’m sick of holding it.”

  Henry bit into a piece of toast. It had already gone cold.

  Not like it mattered.

  THE SABOTEUR REVEALED

  Lord Havelock smiled nastily when Henry and Adam turned up at his office.

  “Ah, yes,” he said, his dark eyes glittering. “The two detainees. I can’t say I’m surprised.”

  With a sweep of his master’s gown, Lord Havelock rose from his chair and glared down at Henry and Adam. “Come with me,” he said, marching smartly down the corridor. “And don’t”—he cringed—“slam the door.”

  “Sorry,” Adam said.

  Lord Havelock sneered.

  “I have other priorities besides babysitting the two of you,” Lord Havelock continued. “You will do as I say, and you will do so diligently. If you cause trouble, I will see to it that you are expelled, do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” the boys chorused.

  Lord Havelock stopped abruptly outside the library. “In,” he said.

  They went in.

  Lord Havelock led them up to the small reading room, and suddenly Henry had a very bad feeling.

  “Lines,” Lord Havelock demanded, slamming two small, dusty clothbound books onto the table.

  “How many, sir?” Henry asked, staring dubiously at the books.

  Lord Havelock produced a sheaf of paper and two pens from a fold in his master’s gown. “By this evening I shall expect not two but four copies of that book.”

  Adam’s mouth fell open in protest.

  “Is there a problem, Mr. Beckerman?” Lord Havelock demanded.

  “No, sir,” Adam mumbled.

  “I didn’t think so,” Lord Havelock continued. “You shall be fed again when you’ve finished. And if there is so much as a comma out of place, you’ll redo the section, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Henry and Adam said miserably.

  “Well, what are you standing around for?” Lord Havelock asked nastily, sweeping out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

  “The whole book,” Adam moaned. “We have to copy a whole book.”