Knightley Acadamy 01

by Violet Haberdasher

  "Anthony, I'll get straight to the point," Sir Frederick said. "I stopped by Mr. Grim and Mr. Beckerman's room after noticing that they'd left supper early, and I found your daughter inside."

  Headmaster Winter groaned. "Really, Francesca?"

  Miserably, Frankie nodded. "They told me not to come in," she said. "I just ... didn't listen."

  "You never do," Headmaster Winter said plaintively. "But this time, no matter who's to blame, I'm afraid it's consequences all around."

  Henry and Adam hung their heads.

  "Girls are not allowed," Headmaster Winter continued, "in dormitory rooms. This is a clear rule, and there is a clear consequence."

  Henry and Adam exchanged a look of horror.

  Henry's heart clenched. This was it, there was nothing the headmaster could do or say to change the fact that he, Henry, had caused his own downfall. His own expulsion. The one thing he'd been worried about, the one thing he'd fought so hard to prevent, and he'd gone and brought it on himself. The irony was unbelievable.

  "But, sir," Adam began, "isn't that rule supposed to be about, you know, kissing girls?"

  Slowly, the headmaster nodded.

  "Therein lies the problem," Headmaster Winter said slowly. "There are not usually girls at Knightley Academy. If a boy were caught in a room alone with a girl, clearly her reputation would be scandalized. How had she gotten there? Where was her chaperone? What were her intentions allowing herself to go into a boy's room? But none of the reasons surrounding this rule apply here, and I am loath to give a punishment that is meant for a different, and far more severe, offense just because the circumstances are similar."

  At this, Henry allowed himself a small hope that perhaps all was not lost.

  Headmaster Winter turned to Frankie. "Honestly, Francesca, you've given me no choice."

  "But, Papa--," Frankie began.

  "I'll have to tell your grandmother what has happened and let her punish you as she sees fit," Headmaster Winter finished.

  Frankie went pale. "No, please. I promise, I'll be good."

  "It's too late," Headmaster Winter said, holding up a hand. "I don't enjoy my mother's company either, but she's a good influence on you and seems to be the only one who can keep your behavior in check."

  Frankie pouted. "I'm not going back to Maiden Manor," she said. "She'll make Headmistress Hardwicke take me back, but I'm not going. I'd rather run away and join an acting troupe. Or the circus. It's not fair. They only teach poetry and painting and French, no matter what we want to learn. All I want is to be a--"

  "You're not a boy, Francesca," Headmaster Winter said tiredly. "No matter how persistently you try to be one. You are a lady, and you'd better start acting like one. Now go to your room until I send for you."

  "Yes, Father," Frankie said, all of the fight gone out of her. "And by the way, if you expel my friends, I shall never speak to you again."

  Satisfied, Frankie flounced out of the room.

  The headmaster sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

  "What am I going to do with you?" he said, half to himself and half to Henry and Adam.

  "Overlook this one, sir?" Adam asked, and Henry promptly elbowed him.

  A smile flickered over the headmaster's lips.

  "I think the three of us are all right here," Headmaster Winter said to Sir Frederick.

  Sir Frederick inclined his head and left.

  "Take a seat," Headmaster Winter said, indicating the squashy sofa. Henry and Adam sank into it, peering at the headmaster from between their knees.

  "It's unfortunate that the evidence against your friend was so compelling," Headmaster Winter said. "There was no choice but to expel him, you know."

  Henry and Adam said nothing. What was the headmaster going on about?

  "I like this job," Headmaster Winter continued. "I truly believe in this school, and I'm hoping to do some good here, to update Knightley's long-standing traditions. But I can't do much good if I'm no longer headmaster, which is exactly what would happen were I to expel the two of you--and which might very well happen anyway, what with the events of this evening.

  "I can't see you turned out on the street, or sent home in shame. Not when the offense is so gray and so muddled. I know my daughter, and I have no doubt that she did as she wished, no matter what you told her. And I can't in good conscience ruin all three of our lives because of her actions."

  "So we're not expelled?" Henry asked, hardly daring to believe it.

  "Suspended," Headmaster Winter said. "Pending a hearing with the board of trustees. It's the best I can do without seeming to favor the two of you, do you understand?"

  "Yes, sir," the boys chorused gratefully.

  "You will also be serving all-day detention with your head of year until the board can gather for your hearing."

  Henry's hope gave way. No, they weren't expelled, but was this truly any better? Suspended. Not allowed to go to class. All-day detention with Lord Havelock.

  "Sir?" Henry began. "What are the odds that the board of trustees will let us stay?"

  Headmaster Winter shook his head. "I can't say. Of course, I will speak in your defense, and you are welcome to ask any of your professors for character recommendations. But all hope should not be lost, do you understand? I'm certain you boys will find a way to fix this, to put everything back together as it should be."

  Henry frowned. It sounded as though Headmaster Winter was talking about something else besides their suspension. As though the headmaster knew about the sabotage, or guessed. As though the headmaster was on their side, or as far over the line of adult impartiality as he dared to step.

  And that gave Henry renewed hope.

  "Thank you, sir," Henry said.

  "Yes, thank you," Adam echoed.

  "Now, you're to attend chapel in the morning, eat your breakfast in the kitchen, and then report to Lord Havelock in his office. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, sir," the boys mumbled.

  "Hope! Vigilance! Truth!" the headmaster called as they wrenched the heavy door closed behind them.

  "This is horrible," Henry muttered as they headed back to their room.

  "My parents are going to kill me," Adam moaned.

  "Yeah, well, at least you've got somewhere to go home to if we are expelled," Henry said quietly.

  "Right. Sorry," Adam murmured, embarrassed. "I'm sure my family would love you, though."

  "Thanks for the offer." Henry shook his head sadly. He'd failed, and Lord Havelock had won. How was he possibly going to gather evidence that Lord Havelock had been sabotaging them while serving detention under Lord Havelock's disapproving stare?

  But then, what did it matter anymore, anyway?

  FEELINGS OF FAILURE

  Adam wouldn't sit still. He prowled their room that evening, pacing back and forth until Henry threw down his book and said, "Would you calm down?"

  "I can't!" Adam cried miserably. "Rohan's expelled and Frankie's going off to finishing school and we've got a death sentence, in case you haven't noticed."

  "I've noticed," Henry said darkly.

  "How can you just lie there?" Adam accused.

  "I dunno," Henry said sarcastically. "Maybe because I'm too afraid to do anything else?"

  "Let's go and see Professor Stratford," Adam whined.

  Henry sighed and shook his head.

  "Why not?" Adam pressed.

  "He lost his job," Henry said quietly. "He lost his job at the Midsummer School so I could come to Knightley Academy. I can't very well go tell him that I've been suspended--possibly expelled--and everything he did for me is wrecked."

  "He'd probably prefer to hear it from you, mate," Adam said.

  "You just want to see Frankie," Henry accused.

  "And what if I do? She's in as much trouble as we are, maybe more. If you've already given up, why not go say good-bye?"

  "I haven't given up," Henry said. "I just need some time."

  "Well, take all the time you want," Adam
said angrily. "Meanwhile the Nordlands are invading with their combat-trained army, but never you mind, just sit there and read a book."

  Henry sighed.

  How could he explain to Adam that the only reason he'd been reading a book was to try and escape into another story, one that didn't involve his being on the brink of expulsion from Knightley and the end of everything that had ever made him happy?

  "I'm sorry," Adam said. "I know you're just trying to cope with all this. I shouldn't have yelled."

  "Don't worry about it," Henry said. "I'm sorry too. And you're right, we should go to see Professor Stratford. And Frankie."

  Henry put on his coat and began lacing his boots.

  Triumphantly, Adam did the same.

  "You're just in time," Ellen said when they turned up at the doorstep of the headmaster's house.

  "In time for what?" Henry murmured as she led them up the back staircase to Professor Stratford's office.

  The door was ajar, and Ellen left Henry and Adam without bothering to announce their presence.

  "Hello?" Henry called, pushing open the door.

  Professor Stratford had a suitcase open on his desk and was busy piling books inside of it.

  Henry felt as though the floor had given way beneath him, as though he were falling and had no idea if the landing would be soft--or if he even wanted it to be.

  "What's happened?" Henry asked.

  "Been fired," Professor Stratford said with a sad smile.

  "What for?" Adam asked boldly.

  "Oh, what I'm always fired for," Professor Stratford said. "Have a seat. I'd like the company, if you've nowhere else to be."

  "Nowhere else," Henry said, daring Adam to tell the professor the whole of it.

  "Lady Winter recently discovered that I was teaching her granddaughter Latin, that I allowed her granddaughter to read the Greeks instead of pretty little novels, and that, generally, I am 'exactly the sort of bad influence that encourages Miss Winter's frightful behavior.' "

  Professor Stratford frowned sourly and put a spare pair of shoes into his suitcase.

  Henry sighed.

  "I don't think you're a bad influence at all," Henry said. "What are you going to do now?"

  "Back to the City," Professor Stratford said. "Find work tutoring for the rest of the term, if I can. It's not as though I have any letters of recommendation from my last two employers."

  "I'm really sorry," Henry said.

  "It's nothing I haven't brought upon myself," the professor said. "I'm always overstepping. First with you, and now with Frances--with Frankie."

  "When are you leaving?" Henry asked.

  "Last train of the night is at half nine. I should just catch it," Professor Stratford said.

  "I've been suspended," Henry blurted, and then hung his head. "Adam and I both. And possibly expelled, pending a hearing with the board of trustees."

  "Oh, Henry," the professor said sadly. "And Adam."

  "I tried so hard not to, but I failed anyway," Henry said.

  "You haven't failed," Professor Stratford said. "You're still here, aren't you? You've just got less time than you'd thought. But you have to show everyone that you were being sabotaged, that the headmaster wasn't wrong about you."

  "How?" Henry asked miserably.

  "You'll think of something," Professor Stratford said. "I have no doubt."

  "But what about the Nordlands?" Adam asked.

  "That too," Professor Stratford said. "It's all on your shoulders now to let everyone know what's coming. Sometimes the hardest thing isn't making people believe what they don't want to believe, but whom they don't want to believe."

  Henry smiled sadly.

  Professor Stratford, who always sounded as though he was quoting, who had risked his job so Henry could attend Knightley, who had been the closest thing to family Henry had known, was leaving.

  "I don't want you to go," Henry said.

  "Everything will turn out all right," Professor Stratford said bravely.

  "What about Frankie?" Adam pressed.

  The professor winced and looked away.

  "What?" Henry asked.

  "She'll be going away to school," Professor Stratford said.

  "She hated that school," Henry protested. "And I don't blame her; it sounded horrible."

  "Actually, Lady Winter has arranged for Frankie to attend a reformatory in the Alpine Mountains."

  "A reformatory?" Henry repeated, stunned.

  "In the Alpine Mountains?" Adam echoed.

  Professor Stratford nodded. "I'm afraid so."

  "But Frankie doesn't belong at a reformatory," Henry cried. "The girls who go to places like that have done terrible things! It's hardly better than a jail!"

  Professor Stratford shook his head. "In Lady Winter's opinion, it is the only option they have not tried. Frankie leaves in three days. They are arranging her passage as we speak."

  Henry and Adam exchanged a horrified look.

  Frankie was really going off to a foreign reform school. Professor Stratford was fired. Rohan was expelled. And they were the last two standing, but not for much longer, if the board of trustees had anything to say about it.

  "Don't despair," Professor Stratford said. "Find whatever happiness you have left and hold on to it, do you hear me?"

  Henry nodded. Adam bit his lip and tucked his hands into his pockets.

  "I'll try," Henry said bravely. "I'll try to fix this. After all, there's nothing left to lose, is there?"

  Professor Stratford smiled crookedly. "That's the spirit."

  And with a tearful round of good-byes, Henry and Adam left Professor Stratford and his half-packed suitcase, trying to find the tiniest pinpoint of happiness in that disaster of a week.

  Henry fell asleep still trying.

  ***

  "Still here, then?" Theobold asked at chapel the next morning.

  "Why wouldn't we be?" Henry returned.

  "No reason," Theobold said, turning back around in the pew with a knowing smirk.

  "I really hate him," Adam whispered.

  Henry rolled his eyes in agreement.

  And just then, the priest launched into a not-very-subtle sermon on the virtues of keeping a good reputation.

  Henry headed for the kitchen after chapel with an odd sense of deja vu. After all, there he was once again in the halls of a boys' school, forbidden from attending class with the other students.

  "This is just like that night we snuck down here for strawberry tarts," Adam said, pushing open the door to the kitchen.

  Well, that was one way of thinking about it.

  The kitchen was boiling, and Henry immediately began to sweat beneath his tightly buttoned collar and tie.

  The cook, a man as wide as the stove, whistled as he scrambled a massive pan of eggs. In the corner by the crockery, a group of maids were setting up the tea services for professors who had elected to take that morning's meal in their offices.

  Their old friend Liza looked up from sorting a pile of silverware and grinned. "Well, if it isn't Master Henry and Master Adam!"

  "Hello," Henry said, uncomfortably aware that every member of the serving staff was either obviously watching or obviously listening to this exchange.

  "I tol' Mary 'bout it bein' you in the library that night," Liza continued, wiping her hands on her apron. "An' she laughed and laughed because she'd swore it was a ghost."

  "I did no such thing, Liza!" Mary protested from next to the china cupboard. "I was terrorfied, I was!"

  "Right," Henry said shyly.

  In all the excitement of the past few weeks, he'd forgotten about Liza. But there she was, as cheerful as ever, and it made Henry feel guilty that he hadn't even bothered to stop in and say hello.

  "So wot brings the two o' you to the kitchen this mornin'?" Liza asked.

  Henry blushed. It seemed the rest of the kitchen staff was rather wondering the same thing. Two of the serving boys had given up all pretense of arranging the breakfast p
latters and instead were staring warily at Henry and Adam.

  "Oh, er--," Henry began.

  "We're in loads of trouble," Adam said happily, unaffected by their audience. "Heaps. So we're to eat breakfast in the kitchen today."

  "An' they were going to tell us about this when?" Liza said angrily. "Well, come on, dearies, grab some toast and jam before the boys take 'em to the tables."

  Henry took a few slices of toast and began buttering them.

  He tried to imagine what it would be like to work in the stifling kitchens again, hastily eating a slice of bread before serving hot meals to the boys who sat in their uniforms, laughing and joking at the tables. Surely a few months at Knightley hadn't changed him too much to humble himself with servants' work, studying his books in the evenings.

  But as soon as he thought this, Henry wondered if he was going mad. Things couldn't go back to the way they were before Knightley. He had changed. And no one would ever believe the truth about the Nordlands if he were nothing but a lowly servant.

  No, it would be horrible if he and Adam were expelled. Not just horrible but catastrophic.

  Henry passed half of his stack of toast to Adam, and said, "Let's go."

  "We can't eat here?" Adam whined.

  "We're in the way," Henry said. "And anyway, we need to see Sir Frederick."

  "What for?"

  "Character recommendations for our hearing."

  "Oh, right," Adam said with a longing glance at the teapot.

  "I can take the service to Sir Frederick's office, if he's ordered one," Henry told Liza, knowing that Sir Frederick rarely ate his meals at the High Table.

  "Well, I never!" Liza said, putting her hand to her chest. "If that ain't the kindest thing."

  Henry took the tea service from Liza and promised to come back and visit soon, though he doubted he'd be around long enough for that.

  Sir Frederick was in his office when the boys arrived, sorting a box of microscope slides.

  "Come in, boys," Sir Frederick said, and Henry set the tea service on the professor's desk with a bow, just as he had at the Midsummer School.

  Adam snorted.

  "What seems to be amusing, Mr. Beckerman?" Sir Frederick asked, squinting at a glass slide.