Page 107 of Rules for Ruin

“Not on principle,” Effie said. “But empowering women means allowing them to make their own decisions, for good or ill. Even if they wish to accept things as they are. To be part of society rather than battle against it.”

“Is that what you want?” Miss Corvus couldn’t hide her dismay. She looked from Effie to Nell and back again. “To be ordinary?”

“No,” Nell said. “It’s never been what I wanted.”

“Nor I,” Effie admitted. “But I’d rather it had been my choice. One made with full knowledge of my past.” She hesitated but a moment before asking, “What was I called before I came here?”

“Effie Grace,” Miss Corvus replied stiffly. “Not so very different from the name I bestowed on you.”

Effie nodded slowly. She felt no particular connection to her former name. Miss Corvus was right. Effie’s identity had been forged here at the Academy. She was Euphemia Flite now. Had been for more years than she’d ever been anyone else. “And what were you called?” she asked quietly.

Miss Corvus was silent for a long moment before answering. “Elizabeth Wingard.”

At last. Effie had often wondered. She exchanged a glance with Nell.

“Artemisia Gentileschi painted the original of the framed reproduction in the entry hall,” Miss Corvus said. “Judith Slaying Holofernes. The epitome of a woman taking matters into her own hands. When I returned to England, I adopted her Christian name as my own. It seemed appropriate.”

“But not your surname,” Nell said. “For that you preferred a raven.”

Miss Corvus’s slim shoulder lifted in an offhand shrug. “Birds have always been a fascination of mine. Unlike people, they can fly away from their troubles. Among them, the raven is unique. An intelligent and prophetic bird. Ravens don’t abandon their young. They remain with them into early adulthood, flying beside them.”

Effie’s eyes prickled. She leaned forward in her seat in an earnest desire for understanding. “Why did you start the school? Was it because of what Lord Compton did to you?”

A spasm of pain crossed Miss Corvus’s face. She drew back in her chair, reaching for her glass of water. “What do you know of it?”

“I know you believed he would marry you. That instead, he and your half brother conspired to steal your fortune. I know you went abroad afterward and that you returned with a different name. A different fortune.”

“Not a fortune.” Miss Corvus took a sip of water before returning the glass to the tray beside her. “A small sum, only. It was the remainder of my inheritance from my mother. That, Compton and my brother didn’t manage to touch.” She dabbed at her lips with her handkerchief. “It was my father’s money they stole—in excess of fifty thousand pounds.”

Nell gasped at the figure. It was more than most people would see in a lifetime. “Why did you not go to the authorities?”

“And say what, pray?” Miss Corvus asked. “I had no proof. The documents were taken away by my brother before I fully realized what had happened—the entirety of my correspondence with Compton, the little tokens of esteem he’d given me, the copies of the papers he’d bid me sign. All that remained was my own accounting of the events. Had I come forward, it would have been reduced to my word against his.”

“You surely would have prevailed,” Nell said. “If he was found to be in possession of your money and property—”

Miss Corvus gave a derisive snort. “Do you have any idea of the scandal it would have caused? What it would have done to what remained of my reputation? At the time, that was all I had left to sustain me. But to go public…Me, a jilted young lady, claiming such things against a man who no longer wanted me? A spinster scorned? I was already considered odd. Isolated. Friendless. While Compton—he had gone to London. He had allies. Connections.”

“He went to London on your money,” Effie said angrily. “It’s how he was able to marry an heiress, making himself even richer and more powerful.”

“Do you imagine I don’t know it?” Miss Corvus’s face darkened with remembered fury. “I was obliged to flee, as if I were the one who had done wrong. To relinquish my home. To change my name. For a time, I thought only of avenging myself on him. Even when I returned from the continent, even when I started the school.” She looked at Effie with mingled bitterness and regret. “Even when I met you. I thought to forge you into a weapon. Not only against Compton, but against all men. You, Miss Trewlove, and Miss Sparrow—the three oldest of my girls. My formidable, intelligent army of women. No man could ever take advantage of any of you. You were too bright. Too dangerous. I gave you that.”

“You did,” Nell murmured. “Yet still you permit Compton to take advantage of you.”

“We are not the same,” Miss Corvus said.

“The devil we aren’t,” Effie retorted. “You made us in your image.”

“No,” Miss Corvus said. “I made you into what I wished I could be myself.” She lowered her handkerchief from her lips. “I was raised as are most respectable British girls. Kept in ignorance of politics and the law. Brought up so the world—and even my own body—was a mystery to me. Only after having been exploited did I recognize what I was lacking. It was other women who illuminated me. They guided me during my time on the continent. Strong, extraordinary females. They already knew then what I was only coming to comprehend, that absent knowledge, absent rights, ladies are obliged to seek guidance from men. Our fathers, brothers, and husbands. It’s how they defeat us. It’s how they win.”

“But they can’t win,” Nell said. “Not if we fight. Not if you fight.”

Miss Corvus shook her head. “My battle is long past. You’re the fighters now. That’s what I’ve given you. The skill to affect conformity and the grace to move in society, when all the while you’re focused on the future. Not just for yourselves, but for all women.”

“A woman looking through a doorway, not behind her,” Effie murmured, thinking of Miss Corvus’s portrait. “Her true face hidden from the world.”

“In time, perhaps, society will be different,” Miss Corvus said. “When that day comes, we can show them who we truly are. For now, we must adhere to our roles. To change the world, we must seem to be of the world. And the world at the moment is no respecter of women’s strength.”

“Perhaps that’s the problem,” Nell suggested. “Perhaps we should show them our strength.”