“You taught us to be independent. To defend ourselves and think for ourselves.” Effie paused. “So long as our thoughts don’t diverge from yours.”

Miss Corvus flinched. “Don’t be absurd.”

“Your disapproval weighs heavily. That, and the promise of a stipend. I’d have done anything to earn them.”

“You never disagreed with my philosophy.”

“Not on principle,” Effie said. “But empowering women means allowing them to make their own decisions, for good or ill. Even if they wish to accept things as they are. To be part of society rather than battle against it.”

“Is that what you want?” Miss Corvus couldn’t hide her dismay. She looked from Effie to Nell and back again. “To be ordinary?”

“No,” Nell said. “It’s never been what I wanted.”

“Nor I,” Effie admitted. “But I’d rather it had been my choice. One made with full knowledge of my past.” She hesitated but a moment before asking, “What was I called before I came here?”

“Effie Grace,” Miss Corvus replied stiffly. “Not so very different from the name I bestowed on you.”

Effie nodded slowly. She felt no particular connection to her former name. Miss Corvus was right. Effie’s identity had been forged here at the Academy. She was Euphemia Flite now. Had been for more years than she’d ever been anyone else. “And what were you called?” she asked quietly.

Miss Corvus was silent for a long moment before answering. “Elizabeth Wingard.”

At last. Effie had often wondered. She exchanged a glance with Nell.

“Artemisia Gentileschi painted the original of the framed reproduction in the entry hall,” Miss Corvus said. “Judith Slaying Holofernes. The epitome of a woman taking matters into her own hands. When I returned to England, I adopted her Christian name as my own. It seemed appropriate.”

“But not your surname,” Nell said. “For that you preferred a raven.”

Miss Corvus’s slim shoulder lifted in an offhand shrug. “Birds have always been a fascination of mine. Unlike people, they can fly away from their troubles. Among them, the raven is unique. An intelligent and prophetic bird. Ravens don’t abandon their young. They remain with them into early adulthood, flying beside them.”

Effie’s eyes prickled. She leaned forward in her seat in an earnest desire for understanding. “Why did you start the school? Was it because of what Lord Compton did to you?”

A spasm of pain crossed Miss Corvus’s face. She drew back in her chair, reaching for her glass of water. “What do you know of it?”

“I know you believed he would marry you. That instead, he and your half brother conspired to steal your fortune. I know you went abroad afterward and that you returned with a different name. A different fortune.”