The governor’s estate stood on a hill overlooking the Hudson River at the northern tip of the island. I wasn’t sure how I would be received as a chaperone or what I would be expected to do. Once the children were in their grandfather’s home, I presumed they would be considered safe. However, the butler informed me as he ushered us inside that my services would be required for the social portion of the evening, as His Excellency had invited a variety of people to this affair. I took that to mean that there would be nonmagisters present, and the governor couldn’t be expected to monitor the children while attending to his guests. I didn’t think either Flora or Rollo was in any great danger of an improper liaison. Flora would sneer at any man she considered beneath her, and Rollo was far more interested in machines than in girls.
I followed my charges into the drawing room, where the guests mingled before dinner. A tall, husky man with graying muttonchop sideburns stood in the middle of the room, and it was he to whom the children went, so I presumed he was Samuel DeLancey, Duke of New York, and royal governor of the American colonies. He kissed Flora’s cheek and ruffled Rollo’s hair in a fond, if somewhat halfhearted, greeting.
I kept to the edge of the room, where I could watch the children without being in the way. The governor looked up from Rollo and saw me, then frowned quizzically before bending to ask Flora a question. I couldn’t hear what he said, but her voice carried, saying, “That’s our new governess, Miss Newton,” in a tone that implied she didn’t consider the information to be of much importance.
The governor gave me another sharp look. Recalling what Lord Henry had said about the governor not approving of him, I suspected that Lord Henry’s choice of employee was being evaluated and found wanting. My suspicions appeared to be confirmed when the governor said, “And where is your uncle?”
“Uncle Henry is unwell and sends his regrets,” Rollo said.
The governor made a loud “Harrumph!” in response to the excuse.
Liveried footmen served drinks to the guests, but not to me or to the sharp-faced woman standing near the wall on the other side of the room. The sharp-faced woman stared at a pretty girl chatting animatedly with a bored-looking Flora. Another family stood in a cluster at the other end of the room. The father wore a military uniform covered with gold braid, sashes, and medals, and his wife was dressed in the height of fashion. They had two sons around my age. I didn’t notice anyone near them who acted like a chaperone, so I decided they must be the perceived nonmagical threat for this party. The boys were handsome and dressed well enough to imply extreme wealth. Even without magic, they might be tempting to a young lady. Flora and her friend hadn’t seemed to notice them, though.
The governor brought Flora and Rollo across the room to introduce them to the young men’s parents. Out of a sense of duty (and no small amount of curiosity), I followed as unobtrusively as possible, arriving in time to hear the father introduced as General Hubert Montgomery, commander of British troops in the American colonies. The two boys were very gallant to Flora, though I got the impression she would have snubbed them entirely if her grandfather hadn’t been present. Rollo was far friendlier.
As I watched my charges, I felt a tap on my elbow. I turned to see a young maid. “Excuse me, miss,” she said, “but you are the chaperone for the Lyndons, are you not?”
“I am,” I confirmed.
“Lady Elinor has asked to see Lord Roland and Lady Flora.”
“I beg your pardon?” I said.
“Lady Elinor is their aunt,” the maid explained. “She’s an invalid, so she won’t be coming down. She’d like to see the children, though.”
“Oh, well, of course,” I said. “One moment.” I edged closer to the group and waited for a break in conversation before saying, “Excuse me, but Lady Elinor would like to see Lady Flora and Lord Roland.”
The governor turned to stare at me again, his eyes narrowing beneath bushy brows, and I feared I’d done the wrong thing. But then he smiled and nodded. “Of course. How could I forget? Run along, children, and see your aunt before dinner is served.”
The maid led us up the stairs and knocked on a bedroom door before opening it and gesturing for us to go inside. A woman’s voice from within said, “That will be all for now, thank you, Mary.”
The room seemed dark at first, but then I realized that was because it was so vast, larger than any bedroom I’d ever seen, so the light from the bedside lamps barely reached the doorway. Rollo ran forward and sat on the edge of the imposing four-poster bed, leaning to hug its occupant. Flora followed more sedately and bent to kiss her aunt’s cheek. Feeling like an intruder on this family scene, I stayed in the doorway, but the woman’s voice called out, “Is that the new governess? Come inside, please. I’d like to meet you.”
I moved farther into the room and around to the head of the great bed. A woman of perhaps twenty-five lay there, propped up against a pile of pillows. Aside from having the sort of pallor that suggested she never saw the sun, she didn’t look that unhealthy to me. She was thin but didn’t have the gaunt, drawn look that came with extended illness. In fact, she was rather pretty, with wide-set green eyes and a mass of rich brown curls piled loosely on top of her head. She looked like a doll lying on a child’s bed.
Rollo stood and said formally, “Aunt Elinor, may I present Miss Verity Newton, our new governess. Miss Newton, this is Lady Elinor DeLancey, our aunt.”
I bobbed a quick curtsy, but before I could complete it, she waved her hand and said, “Bah, none of that, please.” Her voice was rich and warm, with a tone that made her sound like she was constantly struggling to hold back laughter. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Verity.”
“Likewise, my lady.”
“Please, sit down.” She gestured toward a chair next to the bed, and I moved to sit in it. She studied me for a long moment, looking as though she was trying to determine my personality based on the shape of my head and the contours of my face. Then she smiled. “Yes, you do look like the sort Henry would select. As long as you’re not afraid of bugs, you might actually last. You aren’t afraid of bugs, are you?”
“No, my lady.”
Her mouth twitched as if she were struggling to suppress a fit of giggles. “Of course you aren’t. I’d wager you’re quite the bold one.”
“No one has ever accused me of boldness, my lady.”
“Hmmm,” she said, with an enigmatic gleam in her eye.
“Uncle Henry says Miss Newton is a good example for Flora because she reads and talks about things other than clothes,” Rollo said with great relish.
“Verity, I like you already,” Elinor said. She gestured around the room at walls entirely covered in bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. “You are welcome to borrow any of my books. Oh, I know! We can read the same book and then discuss it together—and you, too, Flora. I would appreciate the company.”
“That’s not necessary, Aunt Elinor—” Flora began, but Lady Elinor cut her off.
“Oh, but I insist. It will be great fun.” She waved her hand, and a book flew off a shelf to land next to her on the bed. I could detect the use of magic, but because of my shield it wasn’t strong enough to cause a visible reaction. I allowed myself a moment of triumph for having mastered that technique. She handed the book to me. “Give it to Flora once you’re home. I don’t want her accidentally leaving it in the drawing room here.” Flora flushed and glanced away, and I knew that was exactly what she’d planned to do.
“Now,” Elinor continued, “let’s set a time to discuss it. I’m sure you can read this within a week, so let’s say we’ll meet to chat a week from Thursday at four. Verity, you have read this, haven’t you?”
I glanced at the spine. It was Jane Eyre, a novel about a governess in the home of a mysterious magister. I wondered if Elinor had selected it because she thought it might make her niece more sympathetic to my situation, or if she merely thought the romance might appeal to Flora. “Yes, my lady, I have.”
; “Oh, please stop the ‘my lady’ nonsense. It’s so tiresome.” I smiled at the suspicion that she and Lord Henry must get along very well.
The maid returned to the room and said, “Dinner will be served in five minutes.”
“Thank you, Mary,” Elinor said. “Please escort Flora and Rollo to the dining room. Miss Newton will dine with me.” She turned to me. “I hope you don’t mind, but I suspect you’d prefer that to dining with the housekeeper and butler. Father will want chaperones around for any mingling, but not at the dinner table.”
Flora and Rollo left with the maid, and soon a pair of maids bearing trays with covered dishes arrived. They unfolded a small table in front of my chair and arranged a bed tray for Lady Elinor before leaving us alone. I’d barely eaten two bites when she said, “Now, Verity, I want to know everything about you.” Thus began a far more comprehensive interview than I’d gone through when I was being considered for employment. Lord Henry might have had more success in hiring governesses if he’d turned the task over to the children’s aunt rather than to his housekeeper.
And yet I didn’t feel at all unnerved by her questions because she sounded like she was truly interested and not judging me. Being bedridden, she must have been starved for company. I found myself liking her more and more as our conversation continued. It seemed as though only moments had passed before the maid appeared to tell me that the men were about to join the ladies in the drawing room.
“I suppose you must go do your duty,” Lady Elinor said. “It’s a pity because I’ve so enjoyed our chat, and you and I both know that our Flora would never be tempted by those Montgomery boys, no matter how handsome they might be. But appearances do matter. Tongues would surely wag.”
I returned to my post, and as Lady Elinor had predicted, Flora was ignoring the handsome Montgomery boys, her back turned to them while she chatted with her friend and her friend’s mother. Rollo and the boys appeared to be discussing the merits of various airships.
I focused my attention on the governor and General Montgomery, who sat so close together that their heads almost touched. They seemed to be trying to speak softly, but they were the sort of men who were accustomed to making themselves heard in a crowd and they had deep voices that carried well. I didn’t have to strain to overhear their conversation.
“The police haven’t been of much use?” the general asked.
“Oh, here and there they catch the odd rabble-rousing incident among the rebels,” the governor said. “The trouble is, the police don’t seem to care all that much. They must sympathize. They do tend to come from that class. And there’s not much they can do as long as the Mechanics aren’t technically breaking the law. I’m sure they’re up to no good with those machines, but we can’t arrest them for building them.”
“You think the military is the answer?”
“I’m not sure what the answer is, but if we don’t stop these rumblings now, it will be more difficult later. It can’t hurt to remind the Mechanics who’s in charge and the people what they’d be up against if they joined these Mechanics and rebelled. Just a little show of force.”
The general nodded. “My men could use a training exercise. We’ve been patrolling the streets, as you asked, but we need to show a mass of red coats every so often. Sunday would be good because people will be out and about.”
“No shots fired, mind you, even if you encounter the Mechanics,” the governor said. Although he’d apparently received what he’d asked for, he was frowning now. “No violence, except in self-defense.”
“Oh, you can count on that lot getting rowdy.” The general chortled. “That’s what happens with a load of ruffians. My men are sure to get some action.”
“Hubert, these aren’t the yokels they put down last century. These Mechanics are clever. Waving your guns may not impress them, and they aren’t going to throw bricks.” He snorted and cleared his throat with a loud, rasping sound. “That is, unless they’ve invented a steam-powered brick-throwing machine. Show off your drilled and disciplined troops and remind them of our military might, but we don’t want a battle.”
I’d never have told stories about the bedridden Lady Elinor or about the magister girls snubbing the general’s sons. But if the governor was going to make a military show of force and if the general was eager for a fight, then the rebels needed to know. Whether or not I considered myself a rebel, people I cared for might be hurt.
Before I could be caught eavesdropping, I turned to check on Rollo and the boys and then Flora and her friend. Still, I heard the voices discussing when and where to make their display. Unable to take notes, I concentrated on committing the details to memory.
When we returned home, a drowsy-looking Lord Henry was waiting for us. He asked his niece and nephew a few questions about the evening before sending them to bed, and then he hung back to walk up the stairs with me. I hoped he wasn’t hurt again. I was in no mood to deal with blood tonight.
He nodded toward the book I held. “I see you met Elinor.”
“Yes, I did. The book is for Flora to read. Lady Elinor wants us to come back and discuss it with her.”
“That’s a capital idea. Elinor could use the company, and with any luck, she’ll influence Flora a little.”
“Do you know Lady Elinor well?”
“We were children when my brother and her sister married. She forced me to dance with her at the wedding. Of course, that was before she became ill.”
“Do you know—or mind saying—what her illness is?”
“To be perfectly honest, I think she became sick of Society during her debut season. Better to lock herself in her room with her books than to spend her life paying calls and going to balls. The doctors said something about fragile nerves. She gets a lot of headaches, apparently.” He quirked an eyebrow and added, “Especially around people she doesn’t like.”
We reached the top of the stairs, and he bade me good night without further conversation. After checking that Olive was sound asleep, I went to my room, took Lizzie’s notebook out of its hiding place, and frantically wrote down everything I’d heard from the general and the governor.
* * *
The next morning, I was barely able to focus on Olive’s lessons and I let her get away with far more chatter than I usually allowed in the schoolroom. When the music teacher and drawing master arrived that afternoon, I almost ran over them in my haste to get out to the park. I hoped that someone would be looking for me the day after the party to see if I’d come through with a story. I walked my usual route and encountered Alec near the spot where he’d rescued me from the carriage. “I knew you’d come around,” he said with a smile when he saw me.
Grabbing his arm more fiercely than I intended, I whispered, “I have no gossip for you about how richly the governor lives.” He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak, but I rushed ahead. “However, I do need to warn you.” Barely stopping to catch my breath, I spilled out everything I’d overheard from the governor and the general. “I thought I should let you know,” I finished.
He patted me on the shoulder. “Easy, Verity. Come, you should sit down.” He got me settled on the nearest bench and sat next to me, holding my hand. With a grin, he said, “That’s intelligence, not news. My dearest Verity, you’ve just become the most valuable spy in our organization.”
“A spy?” I squeaked, startled enough by what he said that I barely noticed him holding my hand. “I’m not a spy. I was just warning you so you’d know to stay out of their way.”
“You’ve brought us intelligence from within the enemy camp. That makes you a spy.”
If someone had told me when I left New Haven that I would become a rebel spy, I would have found the idea preposterous. But it had come about in such small steps—accepting the ride, helping Nat, being rescued by Alec, becoming friends with Lizzie, going to the rebel party, escaping from the police, writing the article, and now reporting what I’d heard from the governor. Each step had seemed so easy and had l
ed to the next, larger step. That was the way my pastor said sin worked, but I didn’t think this was a sin. It couldn’t be wrong to protect people I cared about.
“I’m not spying, not really,” I whispered, but whether I was talking to myself or to Alec, I wasn’t sure.
He grasped my hand and placed his other hand on top of it. “Verity, listen to me,” he said. “I would never ask you to do anything dangerous, but your position gives you access to important people, and that means you may overhear things that could help us or keep us out of trouble. You haven’t been sworn to secrecy, have you?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Then it’s their fault if they talk in front of you as though you weren’t there.”
I nodded, feeling increasingly aware of his hands clasping mine. He stood and pulled me to my feet. “And now, I believe you are a governess with a free hour. Shall we take a stroll in the park? We can discuss my plans for a steam-powered brick-throwing machine. I would hate to disappoint the governor.” He tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow, and we set off down the park path, laughing as we came up with ideas for silly machines he could invent. By the time I returned home, I’d nearly forgotten that I’d unwittingly become a rebel spy.
The next afternoon, Mr. Chastain, the butler, brought me a letter that had come in the post. It was from Lizzie. She made no reference to the information I’d given Alec or the fact that I hadn’t written an article about the governor’s lavish lifestyle. She merely invited me to come along on an outing the Mechanics were planning that Sunday and to spend Saturday night with her so we could get an early start. They were going to use the steam engine to take poor children from the slums to the park on the Battery for a picnic and a demonstration of some machines.
Rebel Mechanics Page 10