The Book of Spells Read online

  “That’s Jane Barton,” Catherine said. “She, Theresa, Viola, and Bia are friends from Manhattan.”

  “Please find a seat, girls,” Mrs. Hodge instructed from her place at the door, ushering them farther inside. “The headmistress will be here soon.”

  Eliza scanned the room. The air inside the chapel was at least ten degrees cooler than it was outside. Two dozen gleaming oak pews flanked either side of the long aisle, which was crowded with students. As everyone settled in, Eliza spotted Alice toward the front, gabbing away with a large girl who seemed to be eyeing Alice in a confused and apprehensive way.

  Catherine beckoned for Eliza to follow her. “As third-years, we sit toward the back of the middle section.”

  Smiling politely at her unfamiliar classmates, Eliza trailed Catherine down the aisle. A willowy girl with milk-white skin and blond hair cut into a chic, short style approached Mrs. Hodge. She clasped the hand of a shorter, somewhat rotund girl as if desperate to keep hold of her.

  “Excusez moi, s’il vous plaît,” the girl said to the head maid. “Petit Peu, my dog . . . he has not arrived yet?”

  “Not that I know of, Miss DeMeers,” Mrs. Hodge replied. “Lawrence is under strict orders to bring him here as soon as the manager at the station locates him.”

  “I cannot bear to think of him all alone in that crate,” the girl replied in heavily accented English, looking at her friend. “He does not even understand the language!”

  “Did that girl just ask about her dog?” Catherine whispered to Eliza as they lowered themselves into a pew.

  “I believe she did,” Eliza replied, intrigued. She kept one eye on the French girl as she sat, resolving to introduce herself as soon as this welcoming presentation was over. If Catherine didn’t know her, then she must be a new student, just like Eliza.

  Viola and Jane settled in behind Eliza as a hush fell over the crowd. Eliza turned in her seat as an imperious-looking woman walked into the room.

  “That’s Miss Almay,” Catherine hissed, elbowing Eliza lightly.

  The headmistress wore a slim burgundy dress with a high collar and held her long nose so high in the air, she could have caught a flock of birds inside her nostrils. Eliza couldn’t help noting that she was old for an unmarried woman, in her fifties at least. It struck Eliza as ironic, considering how many families sent their girls here to learn how to catch a husband.

  By the time she arrived at the front of the chapel and took her place at the pulpit, every single girl had found herself a seat. Everyone, that was, except for a slim, raven-haired girl who slipped in late, shedding her seersucker cape and tossing it carelessly to Mrs. Hodge, who stood next to the door. Underneath the cape, the girl wore a matching seersucker dress with a square collar and slim-cut skirt. A set of long necklaces dangled over her bosom, the kind a married sophisticate in her twenties might wear. Her eyes darted around the room until she saw Catherine, and her face lit up with a smile.

  “Catherine! There you are!”

  Eliza was stunned at the girl’s audacity in breaking the silence in such a bold way. She walked over and sat down next to Catherine, giving her a tight squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. A huge diamond ring sparkled on her left hand. It caught the light from the nearest stained glass window and glittered spectacularly.

  “Hello, Theresa!” Jane said eagerly, leaning over the back of the pew.

  Theresa, noted Eliza. So this was Theresa Billings. Catherine’s best friend and, apparently, an engaged woman. Interesting.

  “Hello, Jane,” Theresa said in a dismissive way before returning her attention to Catherine. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” she demanded.

  Catherine rolled her eyes toward Miss Almay, who was glaring at them with fire in her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Miss Almay. You may proceed,” Theresa said, earning a round of gasps and giggles from the pews.

  “Well, thank you, Theresa, but rest assured I was not awaiting your cue,” Miss Almay replied.

  Eliza leaned forward casually, trying to get a better look at her roommate’s friend.

  “Who’s that?” the girl asked Catherine in a loud whisper, looking appraisingly at Eliza.

  “Theresa Billings, meet Eliza Williams, my new roommate,” Catherine said, so quietly that she could barely be heard. She leaned back slightly so the two could see each other better.

  “Eliza Williams?” Theresa said in a sour tone. “As in . . . ?”

  “Yes,” Catherine confirmed lightly.

  Eliza was at a loss. She’d thought May was beloved everywhere she went, but Catherine had sounded wary when she’d learned that May and Eliza were sisters, and now Theresa seemed disgusted.

  Up at the pulpit, Miss Almay cleared her throat and signaled to Mrs. Hodge.

  Theresa turned away from Eliza. “I’m so sorry they stuck you with another roommate,” she whispered loudly. “I told Mother to make sure you had a private room this year.”

  Eliza’s skin burned from head to toe. Had Catherine been counting on a single? Was she bothered by Eliza’s presence? Her throat tightened just as Mrs. Hodge closed the double doors with a bang. Eliza started. Theresa rolled her eyes and snickered softly.

  “Welcome, ladies, to a new term at the Billings School for Girls,” Miss Almay began. “I am Headmistress Almay. I trust you are all well rested after your summer vacations and ready to get down to work.”

  “My summer vacation was far more exhausting than any school year,” Theresa whispered, leaning toward Catherine. “Don’t you find parties to be so draining?”

  Catherine kept her expression blank as Miss Almay shot her and Theresa a scathing look.

  “Billings girls are the finest, most elegant, best-educated girls in the country,” Miss Almay continued. “You are expected to conduct yourself with decorum at all times, and that includes when you are in the company of students of Easton Academy.”

  Whispers and giggles greeted this directive. As Headmistress Almay pursed her lips, clearly waiting for the noise to die down, Eliza studied her peers. All of them were perched on the edges of their pews. Alice was gripping the bench in front of her, as if to keep from running over to the Easton campus that very moment. Eliza couldn’t help wondering if all the girls were here only to find a husband.

  “As you all undoubtedly know, there will be a welcome dance on the third Saturday of the term, a mixer of sorts between Easton Academy and the Billings School,” Headmistress Almay announced.

  Alice clapped her hands together lightly at this announcement. A tingling excitement skittered over Eliza’s skin at the thought of the blue-eyed boy from that morning. She shook her head. What was going on with her? Two hours ago she couldn’t have cared less about boys or the dance. Now, one look at a handsome boy and her feelings were almost Alice-like.

  “But remember: This dance is a privilege, not a right,” Miss Almay continued sternly. “Any Billings girl who steps out of line will have this privilege revoked. Do I make myself clear?”

  “We understand, Miss Almay. You hold all the power,” Theresa groused under her breath.

  Eliza’s heart stopped as Miss Almay cast an admonishing look in Theresa’s direction, but the girl didn’t seem to notice. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Eliza noticed a girl creep through the double doors, closing them silently behind her. She had long, straight blond hair plaited down her back and wore a modest dress of gray muslin. Despite her plain appearance, there was something almost regal about her, about the confidence with which she held her head, about the knowing look in her eyes.

  Mrs. Hodge hurried up behind the blonde and whispered something in her ear. The girl nodded and immediately set about opening the lower windows in the chapel.

  Eliza widened her eyes in surprise. So she was not a student but a maid.

  “Now, on to this year’s curriculum,” Miss Almay continued. “As always, you will be expected to complete academic courses in poetry, art, French, and classic literature, as well as practical classe
s in etiquette, housekeeping, and gardening. There is one change this year, however. The hours at Billings have been extended, so that you will be expected to attend six classes each day rather than five.”

  Viola and Jane gasped. “Whose idea was this?” Theresa demanded at full voice.

  “Your father’s, actually,” Miss Almay shot back.

  Theresa clucked her tongue, her eyes ablaze. Eliza glanced at her roommate. How could Catherine be friends with this girl? Clearly she was nothing but a self-centered, spoiled troublemaker.

  Miss Almay sighed. “Are there any questions?”

  Eliza’s hand shot up. Catherine and Theresa looked at her in surprise, as did Miss Almay.

  “Yes, Miss . . . ?”

  “Williams.” Eliza had the sudden, sinking feeling that she wasn’t actually supposed to ask a question. “Eliza Williams, Miss Almay.”

  Every face turned toward her. Eliza’s shoulders tensed.

  “Yes, Miss Williams?” Miss Almay said.

  “I was wondering . . . will we have any free time during the day?” Eliza asked.

  Miss Almay leaned over the pulpit, her frown lines deepening. “Free time for what purpose?”

  “For reading,” Eliza replied. “Is the library open all day?”

  Miss Almay narrowed her eyes, her broad shoulders squared. Eliza’s heart pounded with fear. An ominous silence filled the room.

  “You’re May Williams’s sister, are you not?” Miss Almay asked.

  Eliza cleared her throat. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then I suggest you attempt to be more like her and not ask impertinent questions,” Miss Almay said.

  Theresa laughed. Eliza’s jaw dropped slightly as humiliation poured through her, white-hot and acidic. How could asking about the library be considered impertinent? Catherine laid a comforting hand atop Eliza’s, but there was no soothing this feeling away.

  “May was like a goddess around here,” Theresa whispered. “I suppose we don’t have to worry about her second coming.”

  Eliza looked down at her lap, her eyes burning. She refused to cry. But inside, her heart welled with disappointment. It seemed that the Billings School for Girls wasn’t going to afford her quite the measure of freedom she had dreamed of. Just like that, all her dreams went up in a puff of smoke.

  “Remember, girls—wherever you go, you are a representative of this school, and your behavior is a direct reflection on me,” Miss Almay said, still hovering over her. Eliza could feel the headmistress’s gaze boring into the back of her burning neck. “So rest assured that wherever you go, I’ll be watching you.”

  Adventure

  That evening, Eliza sat at the card table in the center of the parlor, playing Hearts with Alice, Catherine, and Alice’s roommate, Lavender Lewis-Tarrington—the stout girl from the chapel, whose quiet personality couldn’t be more the opposite of Alice’s. Eliza’s attention, however, was not on the game. She couldn’t stop replaying the incident from the chapel in her mind. Miss Almay had humiliated her in front of the entire student body on her very first day. Every time Eliza recalled Miss Almay’s imperious glare, her stern words, Eliza’s heart sunk a bit further toward her toes. It seemed Billings would prove to be as stifling as her home had been.

  Eliza sighed, both annoyed and bored as she took in her surroundings. The large brick fireplace at the top of the room was bare, and the windows along either wall had been thrown open to afford the girls some fresh air. Small tables dotted the wood floor, and wing-backed chairs lined the walls where Jane, Viola, Bia, and some of the younger girls had gathered to pore over the latest issue of Harper’s Bazaar. A second-year named Clarissa Pommer sat with her chair turned toward the wall, engrossed in a science book she’d brought from home. Eliza had approached her earlier and introduced herself, but Clarissa hadn’t been much for conversation. In fact, she put forth a rather forbidding air altogether, with her sharp features, her two long braids pinned behind her head, and her high-necked floral dress buttoned all the way up to her chin.

  In the corner, at the grand piano, Genevieve LeFranc played a classical tune, pausing every now and then to pluck a chocolate from the box she’d brought down from her room. Marilyn DeMeers sat beside her on the bench, cooing at Petit Peu, a Yorkie who’d been recently rescued from his cage. Mrs. Hodge had retired to the kitchen a few minutes earlier, leaving Helen Jennings, the young maid from the morning, sitting in a chair near the door, her hands folded primly in her lap as she kept a watchful eye on her charges.

  Catherine laid down the two of clubs, so Alice laid down her ten of clubs.

  “Eliza?” Alice said. “It’s your turn.”

  Eliza blinked. She looked down at her cards, groaned, and tossed them down on the table.

  “Eliza! You’ll ruin the game,” Lavender said, straightening her run.

  “I’m sorry, but I came here to get away from the same old thing,” Eliza said, pushing away from the table and standing. “And yet here we are, playing cards, just as we might do on any other night of our lives.”

  “What should we do? Go to the library?” Jane Barton joked, looking up from her magazine.

  “Jane!” Catherine scolded, as some of the other girls laughed.

  Eliza’s face burned, but she ignored the girl’s barb. “It’s our first night here together. Shouldn’t we do something . . . exciting?”

  Across the room, Marilyn stopped cooing and Genevieve stopped playing the piano. Bia and Viola leaned forward with interest.

  Lavender eyed Eliza timidly. Helen frowned. Only Clarissa didn’t move. She simply turned the page in her book, her brow knit, the picture of concentration.

  “Like what?” Catherine asked, folding her cards on the table.

  “Isn’t there a phonograph here? Maybe we could dance,” Alice suggested excitedly.

  “Or we could go visit the boys,” Theresa said, walking in through the open parlor door. She wore a formfitting deep red dress with a matching cape. Her thick black hair hung loosely down her back, and she’d changed her necklaces to a set of crimson beads. Eliza fought the urge to scowl at the girl’s arrival.

  “I’m listening,” Alice said.

  “Helen. We’d like some water,” Theresa said without even looking at the young maid.

  The girl sighed, but dutifully got up from her chair. “Yes, Miss Billings,” she said, and left the room.

  “Jane, Viola, Bia, and I know some of the boys at Easton from back home,” Theresa said as soon as Helen was gone. “And I happen to know that they’re all going to be gathering at Gwendolyn Hall tonight. They do it every year on the first night at school.”

  “Ooooohh!” Alice cried, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. “Then what are we waiting for?”

  “I’ll go get my wrap!” Jane offered, dropping her needlepoint in her chair.

  “How would we get there?” Viola asked.

  “There’s a tunnel not far from Crenshaw, at the edge of the woods. It will take us right there,” Theresa said, her dark eyes gleaming as she placed both hands on the back of Eliza’s vacated chair. “I overheard my father and his friends talking about it at cards. It’s amazing the things you learn about men when they think they’re on their own.”

  “So you want us to sneak out of here in the dark and take some tunnel to Gwendolyn Hall to meet the boys?” Eliza asked skeptically.

  “Precisely.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Catherine asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “If we get caught, we’ll be forbidden from the welcome dance. And that’s the best-case scenario.”

  “Helen already overheard your plan,” Clarissa pointed out from her chair.

  “Helen just heard me suggest it,” Theresa replied. “She won’t report us unless she sees us leave.”

  “But I do not wish to be kept from the dance,” Genevieve said. She placed the top on her box of chocolates and tucked them away into a quilted bag she had slung over her shoulder.

  “Nor do I,”
Marilyn added, her accent even thicker than Genevieve’s. According to Alice, the two of them had grown up together in Paris. Eliza hadn’t seen them leave each other’s side all day.

  “Oh, come on, girls. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt us,” Theresa said, waving a hand. “Besides, I own this place, remember? If she threatens us, I’ll just telephone Father. He owes me after insisting on that change to our curriculum.” She walked to the door and grasped the brass doorknob. “Now, do you want to stay in here under lock and key all night, or would you rather go on a little adventure?”

  Though she hated to admit it, excitement pounded through Eliza’s heart at the word adventure.

  “Is the tunnel safe?” Lavender asked.

  “Of course it is,” Theresa replied, rolling her eyes. “My grandparents and the Eastons had it built as a hiding place for runaway slaves back in the day.”

  “The Underground Railroad?” Eliza asked.

  Theresa nodded. A few of the other girls wrinkled their noses and shuddered, but Eliza was intrigued.

  “Not that you’ll be coming along, Eliza,” Theresa said, looking her up and down.

  Eliza blinked. “Why ever not?”

  “Why, you’re a Williams,” Theresa said with a snort, looping her arm through Catherine’s. “The faculty might have revered your sister, but that girl wouldn’t know an adventure if it jumped out of a bush and bit her. Given your love of libraries, I have to assume you’re cut from the same bland cloth.”

  Eliza’s jaw dropped, and Theresa turned to face the room. “The rest of you, go get ready. I’ll wait for you outside. But hurry. Helen will be back soon. Perhaps Eliza can tell her we all went up to bed.”

  Catherine eyed Eliza sympathetically. Eliza felt as if her insides were about to burst.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said in a determined voice.

  Theresa paused. She turned around and raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” Eliza said firmly. “I am not my sister. I’m always up for an adventure.”