The Book of Spells

  “How very conscientious of you, Mr. Thackery,” Catherine joked.

  “I’m nothing if not conscientious,” he replied, teasing in return. “But don’t go anywhere, Miss White. You’re next.”

  Catherine laughed as Jonathan squired Eliza to the center of the floor. They danced a waltz together, followed by a quickstep. Before long, Jeff Whittaker cut in, then a dark-haired boy who introduced himself as Cooper Coolidge, which, Eliza thought, was an unfortunately alliterative name. As she danced, Eliza managed to forget all about Harrison Knox. She was truly having a good time. She didn’t even look for him over the shoulders of her many partners. Not more than once or twice, anyway.

  And then, just as a new waltz was beginning, a hand came down on Christopher Renaud’s shoulder. It belonged to Harrison. He glanced quickly at Eliza, giving her a private smile that she felt all the way down to her toes.

  “Chris, my friend, do you mind if I cut in?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” Christopher replied. He stepped away from Eliza and bowed his head. “It’s been a pleasure.”

  Eliza barely managed a nod. Harrison’s closeness made her feel heady, and her skin, already warm from dancing, was now blazing hot.

  He held his arms out to her and Eliza stepped into them, feeling weightless as his hand touched her waist, as his fingers curled around hers. He had a clean yet musky scent. As they started across the floor she felt that if he didn’t hold her up, she might actually faint from the giddy dizziness of it all.

  “That’s a lovely locket, Miss Williams,” he said in a formal tone.

  “Thank you,” Eliza said. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “It’s quite unique,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. “Much like its owner.”

  Eliza blushed and looked away. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for the book,” she said quietly.

  “I hope you’re enjoying it.”

  “Oh, tremendously,” Eliza said, adding playfully, “You know how I feel about tragedy.”

  “I do at that,” Harrison replied. They both smiled, dancing in silence for a few moments. “Tell me, Miss Williams,” he said finally. “Are you having a good time, dancing with all the men of Easton?”

  Eliza looked up at him through her lashes, detecting an edge to his voice. “I’ve been having a fine time, thank you,” she replied. “Are you enjoying your many turns with Theresa?”

  Harrison’s grip on her tightened. “It’s been quite pleasurable, thank you.”

  Eliza gulped back a knot of envy, which in the next moment hardened in her stomach in the form of guilt. Why should she be envious? He and Theresa were engaged.

  “But it would have been far more pleasurable if I could have been dancing with you,” he whispered, bringing his lips close to her ear.

  Eliza’s heart skipped a beat and her foot came down atop his. The two of them tripped together sideways, bumping right into Alice and Jeff.

  “My, my. Aren’t we graceful?” Alice joked before turning away.

  Eliza dropped Harrison’s hand and took a step back, her face burning as she stared at the floor. But to Eliza’s surprise, he grabbed it back and pressed his thumb lightly into her palm. She looked up into his eyes.

  “Eliza, I . . .”

  She swallowed hard and glanced around. Miss Almay was talking to a pair of instructors near the windows, but her gaze was cast sidelong at Eliza. Theresa stood near one of the tables with Jane and Viola, and all of them were staring right at her and Harrison—staring and judging.

  “Mr. Knox, we mustn’t—,” she began.

  “Eliza, I just wish we could go someplace and talk,” he said quietly. “Ever since that first night . . . you’re all I can think about.”

  Eliza’s heart expanded like a flower in the sun. But then she saw something move out of the corner of her eyes: Theresa, her arms crossed over her chest, was making her way toward them.

  At that moment, the sound of a crystal goblet crashing against the floor cut through the room.

  “Oh, my—! What . . . what’s happening?”

  Everyone turned to see Cooper Coolidge, shards of broken glass at his feet, backing away from Marilyn DeMeers. He held his hands up, his eyes wide with horror. Eliza covered her mouth in surprise. Several nasty, yellow boils had popped up on Cooper’s palms.

  Girls pressed themselves to the walls as one of the Easton teachers lurched forward to escort a whimpering Cooper from the room. Marilyn, however, simply stood by, a superior smirk on her face. Eliza saw her tuck a small bottle into her evening bag. It seemed Cooper had gotten a bit fresh for Marilyn’s tastes and she’d slipped the boil potion into his drink.

  Once the door shut behind Cooper, the room erupted in speculative conversation. Theresa grabbed Catherine by the hands and let out a whooping laugh.

  “What was that?” Harrison said, stunned.

  A useful distraction, Eliza thought, resolving to thank Marilyn for saving her from Theresa’s wrath.

  Headmistress Almay clapped her hands. “Students! This is no time for gossip! Mr. Coolidge will be fine. Let’s get on with our evening!” she shouted.

  “We should keep dancing,” Eliza said. She stepped back into Harrison’s arms, but made sure to keep a good, respectable distance this time.

  “But about . . . what I said?” Harrison asked.

  Eliza pressed her lips together for a moment, her heart at war with her conscience. She hadn’t come to Billings to meet a boy. And she certainly hadn’t come to Billings to steal a boy who was betrothed to another. But somehow she couldn’t stop herself from looking deep into his eyes and saying, “We will find a way.”

  The Weather

  “I am going to marry Jeffrey Whittaker!” Alice announced, jogging to catch up with Eliza and Catherine, who were walking arm in arm on their way back to Crenshaw House. Marilyn and Genevieve were several paces behind, going over the events of the night in rapid French, while Jane, Lavender, and Clarissa had clumped together for some sort of intense conversation peppered with random giggles. Only Theresa walked along untouched by any of the other girls, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her skirts whipping about her legs as she went.

  “Mrs. Jeffrey Whittaker!”Alice gushed. “Doesn’t it have such a dignified air to it? ‘May I present Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey Whittaker?’ Oh, I just adore the way it sounds.”

  “Do you love him, then, Alice?” Bia asked, her wide eyes innocent as she walked alongside her sister.

  “You know, Bia, I think I do!” Alice replied enthusiastically. “Even if I don’t, I know that I can. Especially if it means being called Mrs. Jeffrey Whittaker!”

  The other girls laughed as Alice executed a wide-armed twirl under the stars.

  “Alice Ainsworth! If you continue to conduct yourself in such a silly manner, no man will ever ask you to be his wife,” Miss Almay scolded from behind.

  “Oh, larynx infectus,” Theresa muttered under her breath, holding a hand out at her side, palm toward Miss Almay.

  A snapping sound filled the air. Miss Almay and Mrs. Hodge paused, looking up at the sky.

  “Was that thunder?” Mrs. Hodge asked.

  Miss Almay opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a croak. She lifted her hand to her throat, eyes bulging in surprise. “I can’t talk!” she whispered.

  Eliza gaped at Theresa, who kept on walking as if nothing had happened. The other girls all looked around, stunned, unable to believe Theresa’s daring. Alice glanced at Eliza uncertainly.

  “It’s all right,” Eliza whispered to her as Mrs. Hodge attempted to look down Miss Almay’s throat, holding a lantern over the headmistress’s open mouth. The girls kept walking, putting more distance between themselves and their chaperones. “Just carry on.”

  “Okay . . . well . . . what about you, Eliza?” Alice asked, glancing over her shoulder at the older women. “Did you fall in love tonight?”

  Eliza’s skin tingled even as her chest went hollow. Catherine’s gri
p on her arm tightened, and she cleared her throat. Eliza automatically touched her locket, remembering how Harrison had complimented it.

  “No, Alice, I can’t say that I did,” she answered.

  I believe I fell in love the day we arrived at Billings.

  “What were you and Harrison talking about?” Theresa interjected, her voice a bit louder than necessary.

  Eliza’s heart thumped. She exchanged a glance with Catherine. “We didn’t actually talk much,” she replied. “It was just one dance, after all.”

  “Yes, but we all saw you talking. You must have been discussing something,” Theresa said. “What was it?”

  Eliza’s tongue felt like a brick in her suddenly dry mouth. Theresa had just rendered Miss Almay speechless in front of everyone, simply for insulting Alice. Imagine what she might do if she discovered Eliza’s true feelings for Harrison?

  “The weather,” Catherine replied suddenly. “They talked about the weather.”

  Eliza’s eyebrows came together in confusion as she looked at her friend.

  “You told me after the two of you danced, remember?” Catherine laughed lightly. “You see? The conversation was so dull, she doesn’t even recall.”

  “He kept saying how fine the day was,” Eliza lied, casting a glance at Theresa’s narrowed eyes. “How perfectly fine the weather had been ever since we’d arrived. I could scarcely get him to say anything else.” She tilted her head to better see Theresa past Catherine’s frame. “You must have used up all his good conversation, Theresa.”

  For a long moment, Theresa said nothing. But then her mouth curved into a wry grin. “Perhaps.”

  As the group grew closer to Crenshaw House, Bia and Viola raced ahead, their laughter wafting back to the other girls through the balmy air. Theresa and Alice exchanged a mischievous look, then suddenly both gave chase, holding their skirts up away from their ankles. The other girls all shouted encouragement while Miss Almay grabbed Mrs. Hodge.

  “Girls! Girls!” Mrs. Hodge shouted on Miss Almay’s behalf, speed-walking past Eliza and Catherine. “That is no way for young ladies to behave!” She huffed over to the door where the four offenders now waited.

  “Thank you for that, Catherine,” Eliza said quietly once the two girls were alone. “I don’t know what happened. I must be overtired. I couldn’t even form a thought, which must have made me look very . . . and I didn’t mean—”

  “Anytime, Eliza,” Catherine replied with a warm smile, stopping Eliza’s rambling excuses. “Anytime.”

  Best Friends

  All throughout services at Billings Chapel on Sunday morning, Eliza felt the pull of the temple beneath her feet. She could tell that the other girls did, too. Giggles were hidden behind hands, whispers abounded, knees jiggled impatiently, and Miss Almay grew more and more tense as the minutes ticked on. By the time the final prayers were said, Eliza felt as though she were practically suffocating.

  “Oh, my!” she exclaimed as she stepped outside, unbuttoning her lace-trimmed jacket to let the air in. “I thought I was going to expire in there.”

  “What a gorgeous day,” Catherine said, tilting her head back to look up at the sun. “Let’s all go for a bike ride.” She looked at Theresa and Alice. “We could even ride over to the Easton campus if you like.”

  “I can imagine how you might think that would appeal to me, Cat, but I already have plans,” Alice said blithely, swinging her satin bag by her side. “I’m going into town with Jeff Whittaker!”

  “You are?” Eliza asked, her eyes wide. “How ever did you get permission?”

  “I telephoned my mother last night, and she spoke to Miss Almay,” Alice said, lifting one shoulder. “My parents did send me here to meet my future husband, after all. And once they heard what the Whittaker family is worth, they gave their approval posthaste!” Then her face screwed up in consternation. “Although we’re to be escorted by Mrs. Hodge, of course.”

  “Well, then, what about you, Theresa? A bicycle ride?” Catherine asked.

  “I am going to go back to my room to catch up on my correspondence,” Theresa replied. “Why don’t you come with me, Catherine?”

  Catherine hesitated. She looked at Eliza, then back at Theresa. Eliza suddenly felt a nervous niggling in her heart on her friend’s behalf. Clearly Theresa was testing Catherine.

  “Thank you, Theresa, but I’d really rather stay outside in the sunshine,” Catherine said finally.

  Theresa glowered for a moment, but quickly put on a fake smile.

  “All right, then. Enjoy your . . . exercise,” she said, pronouncing the final word as if it tasted sour on her tongue. Then she walked off toward Crenshaw House alone, her head held high.

  “Are you all right?” Eliza asked, stepping closer to Catherine as they watched Theresa stride away.

  “I’m fine. Sooner or later Theresa Billings is going to have to learn how to take no for an answer,” Catherine said wryly.

  Eliza laughed. Then the two of them set off at a sprint for the equipment shed.

  “Slow down, girls!” Mrs. Hodge called after them. “You’ll twist your ankles in those shoes!”

  But Eliza and Catherine paid her warnings no mind. Within minutes they had mounted their bikes and tossed their Sunday best jackets, hats, and bags on the grass outside the shed.

  “Where shall we go?” Eliza asked.

  “To Easton, of course,” Catherine responded.

  “I thought that was just a suggestion for Alice’s benefit,” Eliza replied, her pulse already racing at the thought of a potential chance meeting with Harrison.

  “And yours,” Catherine said.

  Eliza avoided her friend’s gaze, instead setting her sights on the spire of the Easton chapel and the other side of the valley. The two girls took off down the grassy hill, bumping along the uneven terrain until they reached the trodden dirt path that ran along the tree line. Eliza slowed her pace to let Catherine fall in alongside her. “Where do you think you would have gone to school, if not here?” Catherine asked as they neared the back of Gwendolyn Hall.

  “There’s a day school in Boston called Brighton,” Eliza replied, glancing toward the center of the Easton campus. A pack of boys was playing baseball, but they were too far away to identify. “It offers a better curriculum, actually—more focused on academics than on polite behavior. But my mother thought Easton men would make more suitable husbands.”

  Catherine smirked. “I see.”

  “What about you?” Eliza asked, swerving a bit to avoid a large rock on the pathway.

  “Oh, my mother used to tutor me,” Catherine replied. She gazed off into the distance, toward the quad. “I suppose I’d still be sitting in our parlor going over the classics with her.”

  “Your mother taught you the classics?” Eliza asked, feeling a twinge of envy. “I can’t even imagine my mother reading, let alone with me.”

  “It’s not as cozy as it might sound,” Catherine replied with a trace of bitterness. “Or rather, you might say it’s a bit too cozy. Stifling, even.”

  Eliza suddenly imagined Catherine’s mom as a stern type who never let her daughter play outdoors or leave the family property. Unless, of course, she was taking her to New Orleans in search of witch doctors.

  “Parents can be strange creatures,” Catherine mused, as if reading Eliza’s mind.

  “Yes, they can be,” Eliza agreed.

  There was a sudden crack of the bat, and shouts of “Run!” and “Get it!” came from the boys on the quad. Eliza hit the brakes and placed her feet on the ground, lifting her hand over her eyes to better see the game. Her heart skipped when she realized it was Harrison running for the ball. His cap flew off his head as he raced into the outfield, while Cooper Coolidge—clearly recovered from his spontaneous boil outbreak—rounded the bases at a sprint.

  “He’s not going to make it,” Eliza said under her breath.

  Then, suddenly, Harrison flung himself forward, making a heroic dive for the ball. Eliza
gasped, and her hands flew up to cover her mouth. Harrison slammed into the grass with his arms outstretched, his glove reaching . . . but the ball landed two feet from his grasp.

  Half the boys on the quad groaned, while the other half cheered. Cooper rounded third and headed for home, jumping with both feet on whatever it was the boys were using as home plate.

  Eliza’s spirits sunk. “He missed it.”

  Catherine eyed her with a discerning glint in her eyes. “But you missed nothing,” she teased.

  Eliza blushed and looked back out at the quad. Harrison was just getting up and dusting himself off. He grabbed the ball and, head hanging, loped back toward his friends.

  “A valiant effort, m’boy!” Jonathan Thackery greeted him with a slap on his back.

  “He likes you, you know,” Catherine said.

  Eliza’s head snapped up. “What?”

  “He does,” Catherine said firmly. “I saw it in the way he held you that day in town. And the way he looked at you at the dance last night. That boy is completely smitten.” She paused and smiled. “You didn’t feed him any of Alice’s potions, did you?”

  “I wouldn’t dare.” Eliza took a breath and swallowed hard, her heart pounding. She knew it was wrong, and she knew that she risked everything by admitting it, but suddenly the words itched the tip of her tongue. “I think I’m in love with him.” She hazarded a glance at her friend.

  “I thought as much,” Catherine said.

  “Yet you haven’t told Theresa?” Eliza asked.

  Catherine squinted into the sun. “What good would it do?” She placed her hand over Eliza’s on the handlebar. “Besides, I would never betray your trust, Eliza.”

  Eliza gazed out at the Easton Academy campus, watching as Harrison tagged a player out. Harrison’s friends slapped his back, congratulating his effort as they left the field and headed for the plate.

  “I feel awful,” she said. “Falling for an engaged man. I fear it makes me a horrid person.”