“Hardly sporting. There’s plenty more of you scrappers than there is me.”


“Ah, yes, but if you’re going about not treating us as gentlemen, we don’t have to behave like ’em, do we?”


“As if you knew how.”


Soap made a perfect bow, precisely the kind due to a viscount. “How do you do? The name is Phineas B. Crow.”


Goodness, if Soap didn’t sound exactly as if he were a gentleman. He’s been practicing the accent. Sophronia wondered where he’d learned it in the first place.


Shocked into an instinctual reaction, Felix bowed back. “Felix Golborne, Viscount Mersey.”


“Lord Mersey, I’ve heard of you.” Soap looked over to where Sophronia skulked.


And he knows how to shorten the name of an aristocrat as well?


“Funny,” said Felix, watching Soap’s gaze rest on Sophronia, “but I hadn’t heard of you.”


“Some of us know how to keep secrets.” With that, Soap ostentatiously returned the valve to Sophronia.


Felix colored. So he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone it’s a guidance valve? Or is he embarrassed to catch Soap and me on terms of any intimacy?


“Be careful,” whispered Sophronia to Soap.


The sootie winked and turned back to Felix.


The boys squared off. Felix stood about half a head shorter than Soap, but then most people did. His clothes fit him perfectly, while Soap seemed to have been shoveled badly into his, with wrists and ankles sticking out.


“What can we possibly do for you, Lord Mersey?” asked Soap.


“I have no business with you.”


“Good thing, too. We have enough bother keeping this ship afloat. We don’t have time to pander to layabout toffs when there’s real work to do.”


Felix ignored this. “I wanted to look in on Miss Temminnick.”


Soap said, “Well, she has had a number of unwelcome visitors this evening.”


“Oh, has she indeed?”


Soap declined to elaborate. As Felix had voiced his interest outright, the taller boy could not delay him further.


“Miss Sophronia,” he said, “you have a visitor,” as if her were her butler. “This boy wants to see you.” He said it as though Felix were years his junior.


Felix turned the full force of his charm on Sophronia, presenting the back of an impeccable frock coat to Soap. “It is an odd place for us to meet, Ria, my dove.”


Soap tensed.


Sophronia supposed she must play the game. “Very well, my lord, why tarry here at all? Your waistcoat will be smudged and your cravat gone gray; how will you survive such travesties?”


“For the pleasure of your glorious company, I should suffer a thousand smudges.”


“Do they always talk like this?” Soap asked Dimity, loudly.


“Pretty much.”


“It’s revolting.”


“I shouldn’t let it worry you, Mr. Soap. She’s only practicing.”


Sophronia looked away from Felix. “And he’s only playacting. Training to be a rake and toying with my poor, weak heart.” But even as she said it, she was forced to face up to the fact that this was probably a lie. Felix was interested in courting her. He’d made no illusions otherwise. And so, unfortunately, was Soap. What a pickle. Maybe if I ignore their overtures, the messiness will go away?


“Oh, now, Ria, you malign me. I’m as honest as a rose garden is beautiful.”


“And as full of dung,” replied Sophronia without missing a beat.


Dimity said appreciatively, “Such language.”


Soap was looking equal parts impressed and disturbed by this banter. He added, “Aside which, don’t you know, Lord Mersey, Miss Sophronia doesn’t have a heart?”


Sophronia didn’t show it, but the remark stung. She was very fond of Soap. She didn’t want him to think her cold. She said to Felix, “My lord, how did you follow me?”


Felix didn’t answer, which was reason enough to be wary. He’s only an evil genius in training. He shouldn’t be able to track me, a prospective intelligencer.


“I need to know, my lord. It could cost me my life some day.”


Vieve stepped out of the shadows. “My fault again, I’m afraid,” she said, looking cheeky. “I told him how to climb and where to go, then left the climbing and the going to him.”


“Goodness, why?”


“He’s going to put a word in with the headmaster of Bunson’s for me.”


“What?” Sophronia was confused.


“Young Master Lefoux and I have struck a bargain,” said Felix. “I’ll campaign for his admittance to Bunson’s, and he’d tell me were you went each evening.”


Sophronia digested the fact that Felix, evidently, didn’t know that Vieve was female. She contemplated revealing this to him out of spite, but Vieve must have good reason for betraying Sophronia’s whereabouts. It was best to keep information as ammunition for when it might become useful and not squander it on revenge. And, in the end, there was no real harm done in Felix following her.


One question did remain. “How did you know I went anywhere of an evening?”


“I might have seen you leave your chambers late one night.”


“You know where my chambers are?” Sophronia was shocked. A girl’s boudoir was sacred!


Felix issued her a crooked smile. “I’ve never seen the engine room of a floating school before.”


“I see. Well, thank you, Vieve.”


Vieve tried to explain. “I can’t lark about here forever. I’ve been thinking Bunson’s is a better place for me.”


Sophronia handed her traitorous friend back the mini-prototype. “Guidance valve,” she mouthed.


Vieve nodded, indicating she’d heard the name.


“What about Professor Shrimpdittle?” Sophronia was alluding to the fact that, as an old acquaintance of Professor Lefoux’s, Shrimpdittle knew Vieve’s true gender.


“I haven’t figured that out yet. May need your help to reassign him.”


“Oh? And here you betrayed me this very evening to both Dimity and Lord Mersey.”


Dimity took offense at being lumped together with a boy. “Wait a moment!”


Felix watched the exchange with amused eyes.


Vieve had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Yes, well, I thought we might come to an arrangement. If I leave for Bunson’s, I won’t need the obstructor anymore, will I?”


Vieve had found Sophronia’s weakness. “Fine, you rat, I’ll put some thought into a discrediting action.” Sophronia’s mind was already contemplating how one might get a professor dismissed from an evil genius training school.


Vieve spat on her hand and offered it to Sophronia. “Done!”


Sophronia sighed and shook it. Luckily she was wearing her black cotton spare gloves, the ones dedicated to visiting sooties.


“I think that’s enough excitement for one evening. Shall we head out?”


Soap said, “So soon?”


Vieve was dubious. “As a party of four?”


“Oh, you may take Dimity with you;. Lord Mersey and I will go the normal route. I’d like to see his technique.”


Felix looked uncomfortable but schooled his expression to one of bland superiority and marched off to the hatch. Clearly, he was not as relaxed about climbing as he pretended.


Sophronia held back. “Don’t you worry, Soap. I’ll give him what for!”


Soap looked pleased. “You will? Oh, good. But, erm, what for?”


“Disrespecting you, of course. Ignoramus.”


Soap’s face fell. “Oh, now, miss. Please don’t. I don’t need you to defend me.”


“But, your honor is at stake!”


“Honor’s for toffs. In that, at least, he’s right. I’m nothing but a lowly sootie.”


“But—”


“You wanna give him a lecture for some other reason, please do.”


Sophronia was disconcerted. What else had Felix done?


“Looking at you as if he wanted to spread you on toast and nibble!” Soap’s voice vibrated with disgust, or something more dangerous.


Sophronia didn’t know what to say to that, so she only nodded dumbly and scampered after Felix out the hatch.


Sophronia was none too thrilled to be stuck climbing. Vieve’s method of getting around was faster and less strenuous. But exercise was good for her, and part of her wanted to show off for Felix—not to mention show him up.


If Lord Mersey was impressed by the smooth way she shot her hurlie and swung from balcony to balcony, he gave no indication. After an abortedattempt to assist her, as any gentleman would a woman into a carriage, he found she was more efficient than he, even in skirts, and hung back in an attitude of “ladies first.”


Sophronia out-distanced him and, although she knew it was rude, decided to leave him eating petticoat fluff. If Felix had entertained any ideas of an assignation, they were quite thoroughly shredded.


“You’re flirting with that boy shamelessly,” accused Dimity, who was already undressed and abed when Sophronia entered their room.


“That’s a lie! I’m not entirely certain I even like Lord Mersey. He’s very involved in his own consequence.”


“And why shouldn’t he be? Son of a duke, long line of evil geniuses, even Picklemen in his pedigree. He is allowed to be arrogant. But I wasn’t speaking of him. You flirt with him with aplomb and finesse. Lady Linette would be chuffed. In fact, I think your approach far outstrips that of Monique or Preshea. Insulting him and pretending you aren’t interested; who’d have thought such a tactic might work?”


“Mademoiselle Geraldine,” said Sophronia promptly. “She has advised the approach on a number of occasions.” Sophronia puffed out her chest and assumed a mockery of their headmistress. “A lady of qualit-tay makes herself appear at all times unwilling and most of the time unavailable. Gentlemen adore the hunt.” Sophronia frowned, considering her current circumstances. “Honestly, Dimity, I wasn’t applying it intentionally, but I suppose Lord Mersey has had ladies after him most of his life. I must make for a nice change.”


Dimity got out of bed to undo the buttons down the back of Sophronia’s dress. “Regardless, it’s Mr. Soap to whom I was referring. You’ll break that poor boy’s heart. He’s leagues beneath you. Nothing can come of it.”


“I won’t!” Sophronia was stung. “I don’t think of him at all in that way.”


“You might be reduced to saying something quite blunt.”


Sophronia blushed at the very idea.


“Or at least stop canoodling with him.”


Sophronia was shocked by the accusation. “I’m not! There wasn’t one single canoodle!”


“You are most assuredly flirting. I’ve suspected it before, but now that I’ve visited the boiler room, I’m convinced: flirting.”


Sophronia pulled on her nightgown. Perhaps Dimity is right. Perhaps I am being unfair to Soap. But I do so enjoy his company. Soap’s so much more fun and restful to be around than Felix. Or anyone else, really.


“When did life get so complicated?” she wondered to Dimity.


“Boys,” said Dimity succinctly. “Good night.”


INTERIOR DECORATION


A faint knock sounded at the parlor door just as Sophronia was drifting off to sleep, exhausted. She climbed out of bed, assuming anyone knocking at three in the morning could only be wanting her. A sinking sensation in her stomach suggested it might even be Felix.


Agatha met her in the parlor.


“For you, is it?” asked the dumpy girl.


“What are you doing awake?”


“You think you’re the only one who sleeps light?”


“Were you expecting someone?” This seemed, given Agatha’s character, highly unlikely.


Agatha gave her a look that said exactly that.


Sophronia opened the door a crack.


It was not Felix Mersey, thank goodness. Instead, she found herself looking down at Vieve’s pert little face.


“You want to cash in on our gentlemen’s agreement now? I haven’t had any time to plan!” protested Sophronia.


The young girl shook her head. “No, these things take ages to sort, I know that.”


“Have you found out something about the mini-prototype?”


“Not as such. I still need to run more tests. Although I do think it involves Picklemen, if that Felix Mersey knew it was called a guidance valve.”


“Oh, dear. Picklemen and possibly vampires as well?”


Vieve shrugged as much as to say that the two were always involved in any technological advancement, so why fuss? “But I thought you might like to see what they went out of their way to bring on board.”