Free The Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates #1 by Caroline Carlson Page A

“Whatever do you mean?”
    â€œYou know perfectly well that those fish sticks didn’t leap about by themselves.”
    Philomena looked up and down the table at the other girls. None of them was laughing anymore. “Poor Claire overturned her plate, and her lunch flew everywhere. It was rather clumsy of her, don’t you all agree?” Some of the girls nodded. “Miss Westfield, I’m sure Miss Pimm has no time for silly stories. And what could possibly possess her to take your word over mine?”
    â€œShe’s right, you know.” Claire wiped at her dress miserably with a handkerchief. “Please, Hilary, don’t waste your time on my account.”
    â€œBut it wouldn’t be a waste. . . .”
    Claire stood up and let fish sticks fall from her skirts. “Hilary,” she said quietly, “would you be good enough to accompany me to our room? I believe I’ve lost my appetite.”
    C LAIRE HURRIED UP the dormitory staircase without saying a word, and Hilary could hardly keep up with her. As soon as they’d reached their room, Claire slammed the door behind them, threw herself onto her bed, and covered herself in blankets.
    The gargoyle looked up from the pages of Treasure Island . “Oh, good,” he said; “you’re back. Is it time to go to sea?”
    Under the blankets, the lump that was Claire let out a great and tragic wail.
    Hilary shook her head at the gargoyle and ran to Claire’s bedside. “Let me take care of Philomena,” she said. “If Miss Pimm only knew how horrid she was, she wouldn’t stand for it.”
    The lump sniffled. “It was my fault,” it said. “I shouldn’t have laughed. Oh dear!” Then the lump gave a great heave and resumed wailing.
    â€œYou didn’t do a thing wrong,” said Hilary, patting the lump where she thought Claire’s back might be. “You defended your honor like a true pirate. But Philomena’s got magic somehow, and she’s even more awful with it than without it. We’ve got to do something!”
    The lump writhed about as Claire attempted to untangle herself from her blankets. She sat up at last and blew her nose on the handkerchief Hilary offered her. “You don’t understand,” she said. “There’s nothing to be done. It’s not only Philomena who acts that way—who uses magic to be nasty, I mean. You should see them at the fishmonger’s. All sorts of grand High Society gentlemen come in with magic coins, enchanting extra trout into their parcels. They don’t pay for them, of course.” Claire tugged at her blankets. “They do laugh quite a bit, though.”
    â€œBut that’s terrible!” If a grand gentleman ever tried something of the sort on Hilary, he’d quickly find a cutlass pressed against his linen-ruffled throat. “Can’t you do anything to stop them?”
    Claire laughed, but she didn’t sound happy. “I don’t have a gargoyle to protect me, and I’m not a pirate like you. I thought things would be better at Miss Pimm’s—I thought no one would dare use magic on a High Society girl.” She pulled her bedding back over her head. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to spend the rest of my life under these blankets.”
    â€œOh, Claire, I do mind. You can’t stay a lump forever. How will you go to class?”
    â€œLumps don’t need to go to class,” said Claire from under the blanket.
    â€œWell, then, you’ll need to eat.”
    Claire shuddered. “I’m never eating again! What if it’s fish sticks? ”
    After a few minutes, she poked her head out of the blankets. “I guess I am a little hungry, though. I hardly got any lunch.”
    â€œYou could go to the market,” Hilary said. “You’re allowed to go into town this afternoon. And I’m sure they won’t have fish