Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris

CHAPTER ELEVEN Feeling the Pinch

I HURRIED UP TO THE FOYER, anxious to get a look out the window and see if Will was waiting outside for a message as Wigmere had said he would be. Instead, I received a nasty shock. My parents were there, greeting Grandmother Throckmorton, who had just arrived with yet another governess candidate. Where did she find them all? And so quickly!

"Good morning, Mother," Father said.

Grandmother gave him a regal nod. "Alistair. Henrietta. I thought we'd best get here before another new scandal erupted."

"Now, Mother..." Father began.

But she caught sight of me and interrupted him. "Theodosia." She smiled, which was so startling, I forgot to curtsy. "I have found you the perfect governess. This is Miss Elizabeth Sharpe, and she's agreed to try to bring you to hand."

The young woman standing next to her blushed prettily, and I do mean prettily. She had pale gold hair and big blue eyes, and she smiled demurely at the compliment Grandmother had just paid her. Father stood staring at her stupidly until Mum elbowed him in the ribs. "Right!" he said, as if waking up from a short nap. "Well, we'll leave you to it." Mum gave a quick nod, then dragged him down the hallway and up to their workroom.

I smiled at Miss Sharpe. I would normally have been suspect at Grandmother's third choice, but Miss Sharpe was so lovely that I immediately wanted her to be my friend. "How do you do, Miss Sharpe?"

"Very well, thank you, Theodosia. I'm sure we'll get along splendidly."

In truth, so was I. For the first time ever, I had high hopes for a governess. She wasn't prune-faced or pinched or disapproving.

Grandmother looked very pleased with herself, and since I was in such charity with her for picking such an appealing governess, I didn't even mind when she said, "You said you'd be able to mold and shape her?" That had Miss Sharpe sounding rather like a sculptor.

"Oh yes, madam. We shall have results." And this time when Miss Sharpe smiled, it felt vaguely like a threat and reminded me that a sculptor's tools were much sharper than a whip.

"Miss Sharpe—" I started to say.

"Ah, ah, ah!" She held up her finger. "I don't believe you've been spoken to, have you? And children must not speak unless spoken to. That is Golden Rule Number One."

Grandmother smirked in approval.

What a load of rubbish! I held up my hand, and Miss Sharpe graciously nodded her head. "Yes, Theodosia?"

"How am I to ask questions, then, if I can't speak unless spoken to?"

"You will find a proper lady has little need to ask questions. A proper lady is content with the explanations given and does not question her betters."

"But Socrates said that the best education is based on questioning. Surely you've heard of the Socratic method?"

She placed her hands on either side of her head. "Oh, my ears! How they burn with such impertinent talk." She turned to Grandmother. "Madam, I fear you have called me none too soon."

Grandmother gave a satisfied nod. "I thought so."

I raised my hand again, but this time both of them ignored me.

"How would you like to proceed?" Grandmother asked.

"I think it would be helpful if Theodosia and I took a little walk around the museum and got acquainted. You mentioned she's spent a lot of time here. I'd like to get a sense of what the unhealthy influences in her life have been so I can root them out." There was that small smile-that-wasn't-really-a-smile again.

"There's nothing unhealthy about our museum," I said hotly. Well, there was. But she didn't know about the curses. And that wasn't what she'd meant, anyway.

Miss Sharpe's eyes narrowed and she reached out and snagged my hand in hers. "Come," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Let us begin our getting acquainted, shall we?"

And with that, she dragged me from the foyer into the hall.

"But Miss Sharpe," I began, then yelped in outrage when she pinched me.

"I don't believe you've been spoken to, Theodosia." Her eyes glittered with challenge.

"But you pinch—ow!" She'd done it again!

"And I will pinch you every time you fall out of line. I have many tools to help me mold young girls into proper young ladies."

I glared at her as I rubbed my arm. This would never do. And it was an excellent lesson on just how vile the most lovely package could be inside.

"So." She grabbed my hand again. "What would you like to show me first?"

It was all I could do to keep from yanking my hand from hers, but I really didn't want another pinch. I was already feeling black and blue. I shot her a sideways glance, not certain whether her question was a trap.

"You may speak now, Theodosia, as I have asked you a question. Stubbornness is most unattractive."

Ha! I thought. Tell that to Grandmother Throckmorton. My mind worked furiously. I had to think of something to get rid of her. But what? I led her down the hall, only to find myself yanked back by the arm.

"Ladies do not gallop," Miss Sharpe informed me. "They walk at a sedate pace."

"Yes, Miss Sharpe." You wretched cow. "Speaking of Socrates, would you care to see our classics exhibit?"

"Why, yes, Theodosia. That would be delightful."

When we reached the doorway, I stood back so Miss Sharpe could poke her head into the room. Her gaze brushed past the life-size statue of Adonis that had so shocked Miss Chittle and scanned the rest of the statues. "Adequate enough," she announced.

I bristled. Talk about condemning with faint praise. "Very well. This way, then."

She was equally unimpressed with our imperial China collection, medieval display, and Assyrian and Sumer exhibits, barely sparing a glance for each of the rooms. When I took her to the ancient Egyptian room, she wrinkled her perfect little nose and said, "My, those bandages need a good washing, don't they?"

It had to be the shortest museum tour on record. Within no time we found ourselves outside the small family sitting room, where Grandmother had said she would wait for us. pausing in the hallway, Miss Sharpe bent down and brought her face closer to mine. "Your grandmother says you're bright as a button." Before I had a chance to marvel over that, she continued. "But don't worry, I shall soon show you how to hide that light of yours under a bushel. You don't want everyone to know what an odd duck you are."

I gaped at her, unable to think of a reply. She gave me a charming smile, then, with a swish of her silk skirts, disappeared into the sitting room.

The room was full, as all the curators seemed to have decided to take a late tea right then. When they saw Miss Sharpe, they all got quite silly as Father introduced her around. It would have been highly annoying if I hadn't been so fooled myself when I had first met her.

It took forever for Grandmother and Miss Sharpe to leave. When they did, I insisted on walking them to the door. Both seemed impressed by my manners, which was just as well. If they'd known that the real reason I'd come with them was to keep an eye out for a street urchin in order to get a message to a secret organization, they might not have been so pleased.

As I waved goodbye to them, my eyes searched for a sign of Will, but the street was deserted except for a tall, thin man sitting on a bench, his top hat just barely peeking above the evening newspaper he was reading. Will must have decided I had no news to pass on today and given up.

Miss Sharpe could not have arrived at a worse time. It was clear she would be a formidable opponent.

But then, so was I.