Page 20 of Rules for Ruin

“There you see? Free will. Though we neither of us fully contemplated the risks, did we? We thought ourselves invincible. Too much Aristophanes, I daresay.”

“ ‘There is no animal more invincible than a woman,’ ” Effie quoted. “ ‘Nor fire either, nor any wildcat so ruthless.’ ”

“Exactly,” Nell said. “I wish it had been otherwise. Of course I do. My leg aches in poor weather, and I’m not as nimble as I once was. But this is who I am now. I wouldn’t change it.”

Effie set Franc on the ground, leaving his lead attached. With the door shut, he couldn’t wander, but it was always better to err on the side of safety. He dragged the light length of velvet behind him as he explored the room.

“You needn’t change,” she said. “You’re perfect. I only ask that you venture outside the bounds of the school before you commit yourself to remaining here forever. Go to the theater or the symphony. Visit the dressmaker. Kiss a handsome fellow.”

Nell’s cheeks went pink. “Really—”

“That you can’t get from books.”

“Nonsense,” Nell replied, still blushing. “Novels hold plenty of kisses. And more if I wish. A girl need only know the right titles, and romance is hers for the taking.”

“Is that enough for you?” Effie asked, taking a seat on the edge of Nell’s bed.

“For now,” Nell replied. Her smiled dimmed. “You could always come back.”

“To be a teacher like you? I don’t know what I could teach that would be of value.”

“English and art. Globes and grammar. Dining etiquette, deportment, defense.”

“Do they all study defense now?” Effie asked. In her day, such classes had been limited to Miss Corvus’s special girls. The ones who had shown themselves to be cleverer than the others, astute with their lessons and skilled at sport, with valiant hearts and independent spirits.

“Miss Corvus determined it essential not long after you left for Paris,” Nell replied. “I confess, I encouraged her in that regard. Every girl should know how to defend herself from encroachments.”

“I thought that’s what our crinolines were for,” Effie said, only partially in jest.

Nell sank down beside Effie on the bed. “Fashion is fleeting, but a well-timed right cross is forever.” She added wryly, “To paraphrase The Oracle of the Ring.”

Effie’s lips tipped in a reluctant smile, recalling the dry text on the history of pugilism that she and Nell had been assigned as girls. “Is it still required reading when one is learning the rudiments of boxing?”

“I should say not. Miss Sparrow prefers application over theory, and it’s she who has taken over teaching defense since Miss Corvus retired from teaching it herself.”

“Gemma Sparrow? Good gracious.”

“I know. She is rather fierce. Miss Corvus thought it best for her to channel her fury.”

“On the younger girls?”

“Don’t be silly. We have a sandbag.”

Effie refrained from comment. She’d been friendly with wild, impetuous Gemma as a girl, but Gemma was too many years younger than Effie for them to be true friends. Effie had preferred keeping her own counsel. For those moments when she’d needed someone to lean on, there had always been Nell.

“Dining etiquette is the only class I remember with any degree of fondness,” Effie said. “And that’s simply because Miss Pascal permitted us to eat the cakes afterward.”

Like Miss Sengupta, Miss Pascal had been one of their many visiting instructors. Strong, eccentric ladies hailing from all corners of the globe. They came for a term or two, but never lingered. Most were women Miss Corvus had known during her time abroad. A bold contingent of females, with singular looks and decided views.

“Macarons, if I recall,” Nell said. “You always did have a partiality for elegance. Delicate sweets, beautiful clothing, adorable little dogs.” She leaned down to give Franc a gentle scratch of acknowledgment. “You’re far better suited to go after Compton than I would have been.”

“I’m not,” Effie assured her. “I failed at the first challenge.” She gave Nell an abridged description of what had happened in the library the night of Compton’s ball. She didn’t mince words when it came to Mr. Royce. This wasn’t the time for girlish secrets.

Nell listened in silence, a thoughtful line etching her brow. “He unnerved you,” she concluded when Effie had finished.

“He did, rather.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”