by Julia Nobel
Emmy shifted in her seat. Something about what Barlowe was saying didn’t make sense, but it was only her first day. If she asked a question, she’d probably just look stupid.
“Why are you all wiggly?” Lola hissed. “Do you have to use the loo or something?”
Emmy just about choked. “No! I just…it’s nothing. I just had a question.”
“So, ask it.”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“I—”
“Is there something you ladies wish to add?”
Emmy sank low into the bench. Barlowe was looking straight at her and Lola.
Lola smirked. “Emmy has a question.”
Emmy groaned. Maybe being friends with Lola wasn’t such a good idea.
“Yes, Miss Willick?”
Emmy cleared her throat. “I was just wondering—”
“I’m sorry, Master Barlowe,” Victoria interrupted, “I can’t hear her down here. Can you get her to talk louder please?”
Victoria’s friend smothered a giggle. Victoria was just trying to make Emmy even more uncomfortable.
Emmy tucked her hair behind her ear. Jeez, why does she hate me so much? She doesn’t even know me.
Master Barlowe smiled. “Miss Willick, could you speak up a little?”
Emmy nodded. “I was just wondering about how you said women had no legal rights.”
“That’s correct.”
“But then you said there were powerful women. How could women be powerful if they had no legal rights?”
Master Barlowe folded his hands behind his back and walked a few paces. “That is a very interesting question. It is true that women had few legal rights during the Tudor period. But that doesn’t mean they couldn’t influence the men who did have legal rights. Have any of you heard of Anne Boleyn?”
Nobody said anything. Emmy had heard the name before, but she didn’t know where.
Lola put her hand in the air. “She was a queen who got her head hacked off.”
Emmy winced. Lola definitely had a way with words.
“Succinctly put,” Barlowe said. “Anne Boleyn was the second wife of King Henry the Eighth, and yes, she was beheaded. Beheadings are a common theme of the Tudor period. But it is her life, rather than her death, that we are interested in. As a woman, she had no legal rights in Britain. However, the events surrounding her life literally changed the course of history.
“As influential as she was, much of her life was carried out in secret. She secretly married King Henry while he was technically married to another woman. She secretly tried to influence the king’s closest advisers. And because of her influence, people secretly plotted to have her tried and convicted of treason for a crime she did not commit.”
Emmy leaned her chin on her hand. It sounded like Anne had gotten caught up in other people’s secrets. Those secrets weren’t worth killing her, were they?
Barlowe stopped pacing. “Now, now, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s go back a little earlier and talk about the War of the Roses.”
As jet-lagged as she was, Emmy had no trouble staying awake in this class. Barlowe was animated, engaging, and witty. It was nothing like her history classes at home.
While everyone else packed up, Master Barlowe brought Emmy a book titled How to Destroy a Dynasty: Lessons from the Tudors and Stuarts.
“Here’s the text we are using this term,” he said. “I would imagine the only British history you’ve studied is the part where your ancestors kicked us out of the colonies and said they would no longer listen to our king?”
Emmy bit her lip and nodded.
“Don’t worry,” Barlowe reassured her. “We’ll have you up to speed by the time your General Certificate Exam rolls around in fifth year. I’ll talk to Madam Boyd, and we’ll come up with a plan to get you on track. And we’ll try to make it as painless as possible.”
“Master Barlowe,” Jack said, “should I take Dev his homework?”
Barlowe frowned. “Unfortunately, Mr. Masrani is no longer a student here.”
Jack’s jaw dropped. “He left?”
“His parents picked him up this morning.”
“But why?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know much more than that,” Barlowe said. “I’m sorry.”
Jack looked worried, and Emmy didn’t blame him. Whatever happened on the chapter house roof must have been pretty serious if it made someone leave the school.
Emmy, Jack, and Lola slid out of their bench and walked toward the door, but Lola turned back.
“Yes, Miss Boyd?” Barlowe asked.
“Is what you were saying really true?” Lola asked. “About everyone in the Tudor period keeping secrets?”
“Everyone has secrets, Miss Boyd,” he said as he ambled down the stairs. “Some people are just better at hiding them than others.”
• • •
Brown and orange leaves crunched under Emmy’s feet as she made her way to Latin Society. The things Barlowe had said about secrets were really sticking in her mind. Was it true that everyone had secrets? Not just little secrets, but big ones, secrets that changed people’s lives? She didn’t have any secrets like that. Other than the box hiding under her bed. But that wasn’t a really big secret, was it?
Emmy looked at her map again. She’d better pay attention if she was going to find this place. The Latin Society had its own building called the Lighthouse, which seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. None of the pathways were marked, and she kept running into dead ends where the path just randomly stopped.
After wandering through a garden for a while, Emmy finally found a small stone hut. It had a steep roof, no windows—and no door. They must not expect a lot of visitors.
Emmy walked around the hut a few more times. Still no door. She could be out here forever, and she’d never figure this out.
Crunch, crunch, crunch. Someone was coming down the path. A dark-haired boy came around the corner. He looked familiar—Emmy thought he might be in Edmund House—and she smiled at him. He didn’t smile back. He didn’t even look at her. He brushed straight past her like she wasn’t even there and disappeared around the back of the cottage.
Emmy hesitated for a minute, then followed him. She hurried to the back of the cottage, but by the time she got there, the boy was gone. She put her hands on her hips and stared. There had to be an entrance she hadn’t noticed. The hut was made of stone and was surrounded by purple flowers, probably lavender. She frowned. There was one sparse patch in the flower bed, bare except for a plant with long sharp leaves that grew tall out of the ground like a guard. She squinted at it. If it looked like a guard, it might be protecting something. Something like a secret entrance. She stepped into the bare patch and peered around the menacing plant. An image, worn and faded, was stamped into the wall. It looked like a skull with something on either side, but she couldn’t make out what it was.
Emmy scratched her cheek. It was strange; somehow it reminded her of something. But that was impossible. She’d never seen anything like this in Connecticut. She carefully reached around the hairy red stalk and tried brushing some dirt off the symbol.
CRACK!
The skull shrank back into the wall, and a gap appeared between two stones. She squeezed her fingers inside it and pulled. The wall swung open.
There were a lot of people crammed into the cottage, and all of them were talking about things she didn’t understand.
“Don’t be a prat, Asher, you can’t talk about Cicero’s philosophy without talking about his politics,” someone said.
“I’m just saying his writings are strong enough on their own,” another responded.
It was like she had walked into another world, one where teenagers thought Latin was fascinating. Emmy pulled the hidden door closed and spotted the dark-haired boy. He was talki
ng to a man who wore a sleek black suit and the shiniest shoes Emmy had ever seen. He did a double take when he saw her, and he whispered something to the dark-haired boy.
“I see we have a new student!” The man smiled at Emmy. “And who might you be?”
Emmy tugged on the sleeve of her sweater. “Um, I’m Emmy, I mean, Emmeline Willick. Madam Boyd said she’d signed me up for Latin Society.”
“Ah yes, I think she mentioned something about that. So sorry, I had meant to leave a guide out there to show you how to get in. You figured it out all right?”
“Eventually.” Emmy glanced at the boy. He lifted his chin and sniffed, like someone was serving him brussels sprouts. Then he scowled and walked away. Emmy raised an eyebrow. Nice guy.
“I’m Master Larraby,” the man said, “and I am the head of Latin Society.”
Larraby. So, this was the teacher who had left her sitting in the hallway for an hour the day before.
“We’re working in discussion groups today, but I don’t think you’re quite ready to debate the finer points of Roman politics. Why don’t you use this opportunity to catch up on some of your homework?”
Emmy found a quiet corner and opened her Humanities text, sneaking a few peeks around the room. Nobody seemed to have even noticed her. They were all talking and laughing like Latin was the most fascinating subject in the world. The mean dark-haired boy was sitting with Jack’s brother, who didn’t seem too bothered by his broken arm. He was leaning on the arm of a leather chair, gesturing wildly like he might have been recounting an adventure. Maybe breaking his arm had been an adventure. He sounded like a bit of a daredevil. But it wasn’t an adventure for the other boy, the one who had left school. Emmy looked around the room. No one seemed shaken up by what had happened to one of their own members.
Then Emmy noticed something else: she was the only girl in the room. That didn’t seem right. If so many boys found Latin this interesting, there must be girls who liked it, too.
Emmy started reading and got through a whole chapter by the end of the session. No blaring music, no one yakking on their cell phone, and no Victoria. It was actually a pretty good place to get work done.
The room started emptying out, and Emmy followed the crowd. The bookshelves by the door were crammed full of old books with beautiful leather spines. She cocked her head. One of the spines had the same strange symbol as the hidden door, but this time she could see it much better: a skull with a cross on the right and a dagger on the left. She still had a nagging feeling about it. What did it remind her of? Maybe it was a common symbol in Britain, and her dad had something like it when she was little. It did make her think of him. It would be so much easier if she could just ask him stuff like this. She reached for the book. Maybe something inside would trigger her memory.
“Emmeline!” Master Larraby had appeared out of nowhere. “How did you enjoy your time with us? I suppose you found it a bit dull, didn’t you?”
Emmy slid the book back in its place. “Actually, I—”
“Not to worry, I won’t ask you to suffer through another meeting if it’s not really your thing. We’ll just switch you to something a little more up your alley. Tell me, are you fond of the noble game of conkers?”
“Uh…”
“I hear they’re expecting a visit from the Annapolis Royal Conkers Club this year. Should be very exciting!”
“Actually, I’d like to stay in Latin Society. I could use the extra time to catch up, and it’d be nice to have a teacher around to help me if I get stuck.”
“Oh…oh yes, I see.” Larraby was smiling, but he didn’t look happy. More like confused. “We’ll be glad to have you. Now, allow me to show you the way out.”
Emmy followed him out the secret door. He didn’t seem all that happy about her coming to Latin Society, but that couldn’t be right. Why would a teacher not want someone in his club?
CHAPTER 5
Saturday
Emmy got lost twice on her way back to Audrey House, but she eventually found the right path. She slid into the crowded common room and made a beeline for the stairs. She didn’t feel like being stared at again.
“Hey, Emmy!” Lola waved at her and pointed to the empty seat at her table. She was sitting with Jack and a few other people Emmy didn’t know.
Emmy fiddled with a button on her sweater. She wasn’t really used to people asking her to sit with them. She squeezed in next to Lola and tried to look like she belonged. A girl with blond curls gave Emmy a shy wave, and Emmy waved back.
“That’s Natalie,” Lola said, “and that’s Jaya.” She pointed to the willowy girl who had gotten the shoes from her mother. “She’s a lot cooler than the rest of us, but we try not to hold that against her.”
Emmy blinked. She didn’t know what she’d do if someone said that about her. But the girl named Jaya just laughed and went back to her conversation with Natalie.
“Did you have a society today?” Lola asked Emmy.
“Yeah, Latin.”
Jack looked up. “You’re in the Latin Society?”
“Yeah. Madam Boyd put me in there to try and help me catch up.”
“Right.” Jack picked up a new pencil and started shading a drawing he was working on. “So how was it? Did you figure out how to get in the building?”
Emmy stared at Jack. How did he know she’d have trouble? “Yeah, but it took a while. Larraby said he’d forgotten to send someone to show me how to get in.”
Jack smirked. “He always says that. It’s a test. To see if you’ve got problem-solving skills or something like that.”
“Why would you need to pass a test to join a school club?”
“They just want to have more control over who gets in. They’re not exactly the friendliest bunch.”
“Tell me about it,” Emmy grumbled. “There was this one guy who showed up while I was trying to figure out how to get in, and he just pretended I wasn’t even there. I think I’ve seen him around the common room. He must be in Edmund House.”
Jack and Lola looked at each other. “Dark hair?” Lola asked.
Emmy nodded.
“Too much hair gel, pretty-boy blazer, looks like he’s got a giant stick up his—”
Jack kicked Lola under the table, and she swore.
“That’s Brynn, he’s Lola’s cousin,” Jack said. “He was my roommate in first year. Made my life miserable.”
“What did he do?”
Jack shifted in his chair. “Mostly pranks, stupid stuff like that.”
“It wasn’t just ‘stupid stuff,’” Lola said. “That night when you—”
“That was an accident,” Jack said.
Lola didn’t say anything, but it looked like she was practically chewing her tongue to try and keep quiet.
Pranks. Stupid stuff. Accidents. Seemed like Emmy couldn’t hear anything about Latin Society without hearing about those things, too.
“Brynn mostly leaves me alone now,” Jack said. “He’s too scared of Lola.”
Emmy’s eyebrows shot up. “Why, what’d you do?”
“She gave him a bloody nose and made him cry in front of all his friends.”
Emmy laughed. “You actually punched your cousin?”
“It was good for him,” Lola said.
“What did your mom say?”
“I got in massive trouble, but that’s nothing new. She didn’t care about it being my cousin, though. His dad’s my mum’s half-brother, but he and my mum don’t get on.”
“What about your dad?” Emmy asked.
“He lives in Glasgow,” Lola replied. “They got divorced when I was one.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lola shrugged. “Could be worse.” She glanced at Jack. He was staring at his fingertips and pinching them together.
“You mean me?” Jack didn’t look up. H
e smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “Let’s just say I don’t exactly fit the Galt family mold. My brothers live up to family expectations better than I ever will.”
“How many brothers do you have?” Emmy asked.
“Three. Vincent’s already left school; he works for my dad. Oliver won’t start here until next year, and Malcolm’s in his last year. You probably saw him at Latin Society.”
Emmy nodded. She wasn’t sure if she should say more. It seemed like Jack’s brothers were a bit of a sore spot. “Are there other school societies?”
“Yeah, loads,” Lola said. “Jack does all the artsy ones—painting, sculpture, all that junk.”
Jack laughed. “While you do all the useless ones like rowing and football.”
“Football? You mean soccer?” Finally, a club Emmy could get excited about.
“No, I mean football,” Lola said, “and you’d better get used to calling it that around here. I’m an attacking midfielder.”
Jack snorted. “Yeah, well, I think you took your role as an ‘attacker’ a bit too seriously last year.”
“Why, what did you do?” Emmy asked.
Lola rolled her eyes. “It was no big deal.”
“Oh, are you talking about Lola’s suspension?” Natalie looked over at them. “I was on the pitch when it happened. She punched a girl in the middle of a match and got herself banned for most of last season. It’s practically a school legend.”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Lola protested.
“How is it not your fault when you punch someone in the face?” Jaya asked.
“That girl was making fun of Mariam’s hijab. She’s Muslim, and she likes to keep her head covered when she plays. What else was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, but I probably wouldn’t have started a punch-up in front of the official,” Jack replied.
“Do you have much football in America, Emmy?” Natalie asked.
“Yeah, there’s lots! I mean, our professional league isn’t as popular as some other sports, but lots of people play soccer—I mean, football.”
“You should come and watch us on Saturday,” Natalie said. “The whole school usually comes to our matches.”