Page 15

“Nothing.” Anne smiled up at the clouds. “It’s just…Do you think any of the nuns at the abbey fell in love? With each other?”

“Forget I asked,” groaned Rosalie. “And stop talking or I’ll pelt you with these strawberries.”

Georgie tried not to look at Elf.

“I’d like to know is all,” said Anne. “Wouldn’t you? Not just about nuns. When I go to see the Old Master paintings at the Pall Mall Picture Galleries, I always stare at the women and wonder. Who were you really? What did you want?”

A bee flew around their heads in lazy loops and alighted on a buttercup, buzz fading.

Georgie did look at Elf. They looked at her disheveled hair, and champagne flush, and slightly parted lips.

She turned her eyes to them. Their heart went still.

She didn’t want Georgie. She wanted bones and rusty blades and the letters FASA after her name. But her eyes in that moment played tricks with their heart.

“What cheer, sheep.” Rosalie’s voice broke the spell. “Look, they’re coming down the hill.”

A large flock was heading toward them at an ambling pace.

Anne went up on her elbows to watch. “Should we pretend we’re wolves? Liberate ourselves from the pit?” She stood with another tipsy giggle. “Will they scatter?”

“Don’t torment the sheep,” scolded Rosalie, popping a strawberry into her mouth.

“Sheep like a bit of sport.” Georgie shot to their feet. They grabbed Rosalie’s elbow, hauling her up too.

Anne threw back her head and yipped.

“Not bad,” said Georgie. They looked down at Elf and extended their arm. She hesitated a long moment before she took their hand. When their palms touched, Georgie’s mouth went dry. A spark traveled up their arm.

They pulled Elf upright. They put too much strength into it, pulling her onto her feet, and then nearly off them. She gave a breathless laugh, and for the briefest instant, they felt the press of her body. She half stumbled back.

“Your turn,” they said, still holding her hand. “The game is wolves . Unless you don’t deign to—”

Elf’s howl halted their speech. And their breath.

They stared.

“That was very good,” said Anne. “You have a wild heart. I can hear it.”

Elf glanced at her, bright-eyed, and showed her small, white teeth.

Georgie felt a wave of desire so red-hot there was nothing for it but to howl themself.

“The best yet.” Rosalie clapped.

“But the sheep aren’t scattering.” Anne stamped her foot. “They’re too bold. I must chase them.”

Elf’s face changed. “You mustn’t.”

But Anne was already running.

Georgie howled again and sprang forward, tugging Elf along, racing for the flock.

—

For the past hour, Elfreda hadn’t been thinking clearly. Excitement, champagne, the novelty of so much friendly interest—all of it had blurred her mind.

Now she saw everything as clear as day. She wrested her hand from Georgina’s and lurched to keep her balance, the horizon tilting. Aggrieved bleating filled the air, punctuated by yips and howls.

“Stop!” She put her hands to her mouth and yelled as loud as she could.

Georgina was among the sheep, darting every which way, kicking up their skirts and whirling, auburn hair shining like a flame in the sun.

Miss Poskitt kept running then doubling over, out of breath or overcome by fits of giggles.

Miss Mahomed loped at the perimeter, yelling something that sounded like chuckleheads .

The harassed sheep had begun to mass, climbing each other as they each sought the protection of the center. Georgina let out a particularly earsplitting howl, and all at once, the sheep bolted. A wall of fleece stormed through the meadow.

Elfreda was directly in their path.

So was the wolf pit.

“My notebook!” She sprinted, heart smashing against her ribs. She snatched the notebook seconds before the flock thundered past, splitting around her, a musky odor thick in the air.

She turned, furious, prepared to scream in Georgina’s face, but Georgina wasn’t chasing the flock like a ravening wolf.

They were fifty yards away, chasing Miss Poskitt and Miss Mahomed, all of them laughing too hard to do more than stagger in circles.

Behind them, the meadow inclined gradually toward the hill, that slight rise giving Elfreda a perfect sight line to the ram.

He was enormous, his hoof pawing the ground.

“Watch out!” This time, Elf’s voice carried. Georgina whipped around. They caught her eye, still laughing, brows just beginning to pinch with the presentiment that something was wrong.

The ram backed up. He lowered his horned head.

Georgina half turned. Miss Poskitt and Miss Mahomed followed their lead. The three stood stock-still as scarecrows. Then Miss Poskitt shrieked.

The ram charged.

Miss Poskitt broke left, and Miss Mahomed broke right. Georgina didn’t move. The ram rose onto its hind legs as it closed the final yard, and Georgina lunged to the side. The ram’s front hooves slammed back down. It bucked and wheeled and charged again. Georgina dodged, and the ram wheeled.

“Over here!” Elfreda waved her notebook at the ram like a flag.

It was no good.

The ram charged. Georgina feinted before diving, and the ram changed directions. He tucked his head and barreled after Miss Mahomed.

“Miss Mahomed!” Elfreda realized she was running.

Miss Mahomed looked over her shoulder and screamed. She zigzagged, but the ram tracked her, bearing down. Georgie was running too, and Miss Poskitt had changed course, swinging her bonnet, trying to attract the ram’s attention.

He rose onto his hind legs and butted, missing Miss Mahomed by inches. She screamed more loudly.

Elfreda watched her as she tripped and crumpled, and so she didn’t look where she herself was going.

She banged into Georgina with jolting force.

Her teeth clattered, and she tasted blood.

The notebook sailed from her hand. Georgina’s arm wrapped her waist, bracing her.

Time seemed to stand still. She was pressed against Georgina, head twisted, eyes on the notebook as it hung in the air. Then time restarted.

The notebook swung open. Her grandmother’s papers spilled out, the pages catching the wind, fluttering across the meadow.

“Let go of me!” Elfreda kicked Georgina’s shins with all her might. “You’re like a curse!”

Georgina let go, and Elfreda hit the ground. Hip, elbow, shoulder, head. She howled with pure, lupine rage. “Georgina Redmayne, I swear to God, I will destroy you!”

Georgina wasn’t looking down at her. They were staring off, horror stricken. Elfreda looked in time to see it too. The ram driving into Miss Poskitt, sending her flying, her body limp as a rag doll.