My social calendar is always full at Miss Preston’s, and the number of fine folks I meet really is a credit to the education I am receiving here. It’s true that being a Negro has its drawbacks, but I couldn’t tell you what they are—that’s how happy I am being taught my place here at Miss Preston’s. I may not ever get to be a debutante, but catering to the fine white women of Baltimore is a far more worthy endeavor.
Katherine and I manage to get back to school, wash up, and change without being discovered. We miss breakfast, and when Miss Duncan asks where we were, Katherine sheepishly says we both overslept and got to our chores late. The excuse works, mostly because everyone knows that Katherine and I don’t really get on well. No one would expect her to lie to protect me.
I sleepwalk through the day. I’m dog-tired, and my body feels twice as heavy as we do our scythe work. There are no fine ladies to watch us today, so the drills are tolerable. After the midday meal we practice shooting, and even though I’m hitting my target, my aim is off. Miss Folsom, the firearms teacher, scowls at my shot grouping.
“Jane, this is sloppy work. Watch your trigger squeeze, girl. An inch isn’t such a big deal at close range, but with a rifle that inch becomes several feet.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, swallowing a yawn.
My only consolation is that Katherine is just as muttonheaded as I am. She drops her sickles during our close-combat class, and Miss Anderson raps her ruler on Katherine’s knuckles when she dozes off during our tea-serving lesson. It ain’t Christian to revel in the misery of others, but I like to make an exception for Katherine.
After our final class of the day I drop off my weapons at the armory and get ready to head to my bed, using my study time to doze before dinner. If I don’t get some sleep, I’m going to pass out in my soup.
I’ve just lain down and started to snooze when someone shakes me awake. “The building better be on fire,” I grumble.
“Miss Preston wants to see us.” Katherine sounds as tired as I feel, and I groan as I climb out of bed and follow her down the hall.
We drag ourselves into the headmistress’s office. All my exhaustion slips away when I see Miss Anderson and the big Indian man from the lecture standing there. Miss Preston is nowhere to be found. I straighten, and the man’s gaze slips over me. Even with the corners of his mouth pulled down in distaste he’s eye-catching. I try to imagine him with feathers in his dark hair and wearing beaded buckskin like in the newspaper serials. I just can’t do it. The clothes he wears, homespun shirt and trousers, suit him.
He doesn’t look much older than me and Katherine, his brown skin unlined. I wonder if he went to the Indian school up in Pennsylvania, and if he did, how it compares to Miss Preston’s. I don’t know much about how the Indian schools work, but I’ve heard they’re less focused on teaching folks how to kill the dead than they are civilizing them, whatever that means. It makes me curious about that impassive man’s life. Did he come here to Baltimore to seek his fortune? Or is he here against his will?
A wracking cough pulls my attention away from my perusal of the Indian man. Miss Anderson wheezes as she coughs, a handkerchief pressed to her lips.
“Miss Anderson, are you well? You don’t sound so good.”
She gives one last cough and shoots me an arsenic-laced glare. “My health is of no concern to you, Jane McKeene.”
“Well, I just hope it ain’t tuberculosis. The nights have been chilly this year, and it wouldn’t take much for a cough to become something more if you’d been out in the cold.”
I can feel Katherine’s glare and the man raises an eyebrow in my direction, but I keep my expression mild. Auntie Aggie used to say I was like as not to poke Satan with a stick just for fun. Guess not much has changed.
Mostly I’m just thinking about Miss Anderson being in cahoots with the mayor and whatever he’s done with Lily and the Spencers, as well as her comment about pickaninnies, and every mean-spirited thing she’s done to me. It takes all the self-restraint I have to keep from launching myself at her and beating her senseless. But I’m saved from doing anything untoward by Miss Preston entering the room. She takes in the tableau before her and frowns. “Is something amiss?”
“No, ma’am,” Katherine says, a smile breaking out over her face, making her look like an angel from a painting. My anger and disgust grows a little more, fed by a mean streak of envy. I grit my teeth and say nothing. Katherine didn’t pick the face she was born with, and it ain’t her fault her perfect smile makes me want to break things. My dark feelings are my own problem, and I aim to keep them that way.
Miss Preston sits heavily in her chair with a sigh. “Well, then, I suppose we should get to the reason as to why we’re here.” She shuffles through a stack of papers on her desk and pulls out a lovely cream-colored vellum envelope. “In recognition of your . . . heroics at the Baltimore University lecture, the mayor’s wife has invited you girls to a formal dinner. A few of her close friends have lost their Attendants lately, and she would like you to augment her household staff in order to guarantee her guests’ safety.”
Katherine gives me a wide-eyed look, but I don’t feel any of the excitement I see on her face. The penny under my blouse has gone cold.
Miss Preston continues. “This is an excellent opportunity to present yourself to the finest ladies in all of Maryland. Miss Anderson and Mr. Redfern here will be taking you to be fitted for Attendants’ wear. At Mayor Carr’s expense, of course. Miss Anderson will also be accompanying you to dinner as your chaperone to ensure that you represent the school with dignity and honor.”
My penny is a snowball at the hollow of my neck, and I ain’t at all encouraged by Miss Preston glossing over the fact that multiple Baltimore Attendants have been killed, presumably within the city limits. All my anger at whatever Miss Anderson and the mayor have done with Lily and the Spencers disappears, replaced by fear.
I’m shaky and out of sorts as I take a deep breath and let it out. “Miss Preston, I’m honored by the invitation, but I’m afraid I must decline.” My words come out too fast, my tongue tripping over syllables. I see my end in this fine invitation, and I ain’t a hog to go happily to the slaughter, no matter how pretty the ax.
Miss Preston opens her mouth to speak and I continue, in an attempt to cover my lack of grace and decorum. “What I mean is, it would be terrible of us to accept such a generous offer without including Miss Duncan. She was instrumental in putting down the restless dead, and I just don’t feel right taking advantage of such an invitation without her.”
“I’m sure our honorable mayor would be happy to include your teacher as well.” Mr. Redfern’s voice is a low rumble, and I barely manage to keep myself from jumping in surprise. I’d forgotten he was even standing there in the corner, as intent as I was on not ending up at the mayor’s dinner.
Miss Preston smiles. “Well, it’s settled then. You girls will be excused from classes tomorrow for your fitting, and next week you will attend dinner at the mayor’s residence.” Miss Preston levels a withering look at me. “Try to conduct yourselves in a matter befitting a Miss Preston’s girl. After all, a contract with a good family is the difference between a future and, well . . .” She trails off, giving us knowing smiles.
“Thank you, Miss Preston! We are doubly blessed, and we will not let you down,” Katherine chirps in answer, all but bouncing as we take our leave.
Behind us, Miss Preston asks Mr. Redfern in a low voice, “Have you or the mayor heard anything further on the Edgars’ disappearance?”
I whirl around, perhaps too quickly considering that I ain’t supposed to know anything about missing families, but I meet Miss Anderson’s eyes. Her smug expression convinces me to keep on walking out of the room and unleashes a barrage of worry that unsettles my stomach.
She’s got the look of a cat that just caught a mouse. No wonder I feel like squeaking.