When Berenice finally escaped the ball and returned to her quarters, she was glad of the names on her dance card. She made notes of what she remembered from each, his social status, what his father manufactured or traded in, his general attire, his attempts at conversation.
Nigel Monkhouse - Father Frederick Monkhouse, textile imports and manufacturing, member of the House of Commons, conversation weather, compliments, excellent clothing, especially the waistcoat
Dylan Bradbury - son of a banker involved in Latin America, importing coffee, chocolate, and sugar, commented on the excellence of the refreshments, fine, but subdued clothing, no colors.
Felix Chamberlain - American son of an entrepreneur - helium and aluminum. Good dancer
Lord Quintan Shephard - son of Lord Erich Shephard, ambassador to Prussia, asked about her studies, wore nothing notable
Carson Steele - father Staunton Steele owns coal mines in Britain and oil interests in America, danced like a freight train
All were polite, none condescending, all friends of Rolande. Berenice wondered if they had danced with her to curry favor with her former roommate. Any of them might be suitable as a match for Roland unless the Baron insisted on a title.
They must have thought her quite dull, as there had been little mental energy for her to use other than dancing and being polite to everyone through introductions. She closed her notebook and stashed it in a drawer in the desk. She’d begun extricating herself from the ball gown when someone knocked at her door.
A maid stood in the hall, making a quick curtsy. “I’m your new maid, Josette, until you hire another. Miss Rolande sent me to take care of you tonight.” The maid was about the same age as Berenice, slightly built but wiry, with brown hair pulled into a cap, brown eyes over round cheeks, and a pleasant mouth.
Berenice was tired, so it was too much trouble to argue that she managed by herself.
She relaxed into letting Josette undo the dress and the corset, put her in a nightdress and banyan, and then undo and brush her hair.
Berenice yawned. “I have to get up early. Can someone come to wake me by seven, so that I can go to class?”
“Yes, Miss, of course.” Josette shook her head. “You’d better hop in quick, then. It’s already past three.”
Then Berenice noted that her clothing and personal items from her dormitory room were not present.
“Where are my clothes?” Was she trapped here with only a couple of ball gowns and a night dress?
The maid opened the closet, where a newer school uniform hung. “Your things are being laundered and repaired. Miss Rolande said you could use these.” She turned down the bed. “Now you just hop in here, and we’ll both get a bit of sleep before the morning.”
As Josette turned down the lamp and closed the door, Berenice realized that now she had someone else’s well-being to consider. She'd have to speak to Rolande about that after class.
***
Good as her word, Josette not only woke Berenice in time to dress but also brought her coffee and a muffin for breakfast. In less than 20 minutes, Berenice met Rolande and a footman who accompanied them to the Lovelace Academy in a small aircraft.
“If you will tell me where your projects are stored,” the footman said, “I will collect them and move them to the Baron’s laboratory.”
“I’m sorry,” Berenice said. “We shall be late to class, and I will need to show you where each piece is and how to package it securely.”
“I am at your service.” The footman bowed. “I shall wait in the servant’s kitchen.”
Berenice thought she saw a quirk of a smile on the man’s face, as he had nothing to do for the morning but wait on a couple of young women. She’d find him enough work when she had spoken to her instructors, informing them of her new status.
For now, she must prepare for exams, make sure her mother was provided for, as the Baron promised, and then decide which of her projects she would give to the Baron and what she would keep for herself. She had new contacts from last night, and any of them might provide for her future employment.