Alicia left the bookstore in high spirits. Partly that was due to Miss Hartwright’s success, of course. The offer had been heavily in her own favor, but even Alicia could tell that the store was in dire straits. Hopefully, this investment would help stave off bankruptcy, and if Alicia’s predictions were true, it could soon become a much more profitable business—with a portion of that success going right into her own pocket.
However, it was undeniable that part of her joy came from meeting with Elizabeth. That had been quite an unexpected pleasure, to be sure, but it was a pleasure nonetheless. She had been expecting the normal drudgery that came from interacting with others her age, at best stilted small talk and at worst barbs and insults veiled by polite conversation. Instead, she had found a girl whose interest was unmistakable, someone who was not constrained by the impassionate niceties of high society. It was a relief to talk with someone who didn’t know Alicia’s own standing, someone who wasn’t constantly considering how to use a new connection but rather cared only about sharing and discussing some new arcane knowledge.
Alicia also realized, with no small degree of mortification, that a month ago she would never have considered paying any attention at all to such a girl.
Wrapped up in these thoughts, Alicia paid little attention to her surroundings, content to follow Miss Hartwright’s lead. It was only when the governess abruptly stopped short and Alicia nearly walked into the woman’s skirt that she came back to her senses and took in the surroundings. Very quickly, she realized what was wrong. The carriage driver had left, presumably deciding that it was better money to try and find other customers. Miss Hartwright let out a sharp curse that was quite unsuitable for a governess, and then grabbed Alicia’s hand.
“Damn that man to the nine hells,” Miss Hartwright muttered to herself, quietly but not so much as to keep Alicia from hearing it. Turning to address the girl, the governess said, “My lady, we’ll need to take an omnibus back, I suspect.”
“That is quite inconvenient,” Alicia replied, somewhat put out. It had been quite a long day, and she had been looking forward to an easy carriage ride back.
Miss Hartwright’s expression was grim, moreso than Alicia would have expected. She spoke quietly, almost under her breath. “I had hoped to give you a gentler exposure to the rougher sides of the city, but it seems that fate had other plans. In any case, we should move quickly. It is never a good idea to advertise that you are lost or unfamiliar with your surroundings.”
With that, she began walking, and Alicia obediently followed behind, strangely unsettled. Although she would be loath to admit it to anyone, the tone of the governess’ voice had frightened her. She had been dimly aware that this area was not very well off, but she hadn’t yet felt in serious danger. She realized with a start that, in an unfamiliar environment, she had been operating more on Christine’s instincts than her own. Which wasn’t to say she was totally naïve, but Christine’s instincts were not honed to detect the same kinds of danger that a young lady of rank might face in a more impoverished part of Ludestre. For Christine, taking the bus was an everyday part of life, but it was quite different for a noblewoman of Alicia’s stature.
The sky had darkened, a combination of the sun reaching toward the horizon and the billowing clouds of smoke from the factories, both of which had been running since dawn. Miss Hartwright’s grip was tight and her pace fast. When Alicia’s foot briefly caught on a cobblestone the governess barely slowed down, doing a half-turn to catch the girl before moving forward once more. As they walked further north, the streets began to fill with the weary men and women, wearing rough clothes stained by soot and sweat, returning home from long days spent working. The clicking patter of footsteps and fast chatter of voices surrounded them, speaking a dialect that Alicia struggled to follow. Plain though her clothes might be by the standards of a noble, Alicia was acutely aware that even her simplest dress made her stand out in these streets.
The buildings around them were largely crowded tenements, and it seemed that every window that wasn’t boarded up gave a view into a different family’s cramped one-room home. At several points as they hurried past, she heard the plaintive cries of infants, and then they were lost to the din of the street. Alicia felt so out-of-place, so hopelessly lost in the crowded streets amidst the swell of people, that she could feel the sharp edge of panic pushing up against her mind. It didn’t help that as they passed, men would turn to track their motion with greedy, hungry eyes, looking mainly at Miss Hartwright but some at Alicia too. The girl pressed close against her governess’ back, gripping her hand tightly.
A clattering noise coming from the east, the sound of hooves and wooden wheels clacking against cobblestone, alerted them to the arrival of the omnibus itself. It was a large vehicle pulled by two horses and driven by a sharp-faced man, moving with some speed through the crowded street. There were two levels, a lower interior and an upper that was exposed to the air, and Alicia could see through the windows that it was already quite crowded. The vehicle seemed to be well-constructed, although the black and gold paint on its sides had clearly begun to peel. The pedestrians in front were quick to move aside, and equally quick to fill in the space that its passing left. As it drew near Miss Hartwright raised her hand in some kind of signal, and the man driving brought it to a quick stop in front of them; so quick that she could hear some shouts of alarm from the passengers inside.
“Are you going near the parliament?” Miss Hartwright asked, with affected disinterest. If the driver thought it strange to see two women of some means in this area, he gave no sign of it.
“Aye, we’ll be pass’n by there, miss,” he replied. He wore a heavy coat and a stout bowler’s hat, one hand gripping the reigns and the other resting comfortably on a thick metal club resting on his belt.“Three pawning a piece, for the ride,” and he held out a hand. “Should still be room on the lower level.”
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She quickly counted out six pawning from her purse and handed them to the man, who slipped them through a slot into a locked box at his feet. Miss Hartwright gripped Alicia’s hand tightly and entered the bus.The interior was crowded with strangers—several men with rough clothes stained by sweat and soot, two older women wearing the dull dresses of servants, and a wealthier man with a top hat wearing the kind of suit that Mister Finnegan had been wearing. ~
“Hey there, pretty miss,” a reedy male voice cut against the rattle of motion. Alicia looked up to see a dull-eyed man with a patchy beard, face flushed red and leaning forward in his seat and leering at Miss Hartwright. Alicia shrank back, and Miss Hartwright put a protective arm around the girl, pointedly ignoring the man.
“Miss, I’m talking to you,” he said again, leaning further forward and coming half-way out of the seat. The two other men who had boarded with laughed drunkenly, while the rest of the passengers just looked down or away. Miss Hartwright looked down as well, in the hopes that he would take the message. He was either too drunk or too rude to do so, however, and now when he spoke Alicia could smell rot and whisky on his breath. “It’s rude to ignore a fellow, miss, dint’ya know that?”
The young man with the scraggly beard reached out toward Miss Hartwright, a mocking grin on his face. He grabbed the front of her dress, knotting the fabric in his hands. Alicia tried to move, to yell for help from the other passengers, to push away the man, but her body wasn’t responding. The moment seemed to stretch out as her heartbeat pulsed through her head, caught in a rush of adrenaline that rooted her to the spot.
Then, in an instant, Miss Hartwright’s hand lashed out and gripped his arm. There was a blur of motion as the governess spun around and in an instant the man was face down on the floor, Miss Hartwright kneeling down with a knee pressed against the small of his back. Her hand glowed for half a second, the light spreading and congealing into the shape of a steel knife, pressed up against the man’s throat.
“I told you to stay back,” Miss Hartwright hissed, her face set in a mask of fury. The other two men started to move forward before she whipped her other hand up. With a flick of her wrist, she threw the knife into the air. It flew past the taller man’s head, missing him by a finger’s length and embedding itself in the wooden frame of the bus. A thin red line appeared on his cheek, making it clear that she could have caused far more damage if she had wanted to.
The cart came to a sudden halt, making most of the occupants sway forward uncontrollably, but Miss Hartwright barely moved. A moment later, the driver bounded up the steps. He took in the scene for a moment, frowning, and then rested a hand on the club. “Miss, you’ll need to get off the man, else I’ll need t’call for the Peelers.”
“I would be happy to, as soon as I ensure he won’t be a danger to anyone else,” she said. With another glow of magnolic power, she materialized an identical knife to the one she threw. She stabbed downwards, cutting through the collar of the man’s shirt and into the rough wood floor, pinning him to the ground. It wouldn’t stop him from getting up if he wanted to, but the message was clear enough. “In fact, I think my charge and I shall travel the rest of the way on the upper level, if that’s alright with you.”
Alicia looked at her governess in awe and admiration; the driver and the rest of the passengers were staring at the lady with awe and terror. The driver fell into a short bow, his hand snapping away from the club. “O’ course, m’lady. The upper level is all yours, if y’be wanting it.”
The governess grabbed Alicia’s hand and walked toward the front of the carriage, her steps slow and deliberate. All the other passengers seemed to shy away from her as she walked, and those closest refused to meet her gaze. The only sign that the woman was anything other than unconcerned and collected was the tight grip she kept on Alicia’s hand.
The steep stairs to the upper level were affixed to the back of the carriage. Miss Hartwright led Alicia around the back, and the two ascended to the empty upper level. Shortly after they settled, the carriage began moving again, shaking and rattling beneath their feet. From up here, she had a much better view of the passing city: the lines of clustered apartments with boarded up windows fading into townhouses set in squares around private gated gardens, the thrum of people walking through the streets and occasionally leaping out of the way of the omnibus, the other carriages passing by in the opposite direction or passing in front at an intersection. The air smelled of smog but there was something exhilarating in feeling it rush by her head.
“That was incredible,” Alicia said, after a moment. She looked at the governess and saw her as she had never seen the woman before: strong, fearless, undaunted.
Miss Hartwright stared back at her charge and smiled, sadly. “I’m sorry that you had to see that, my lady.” She reached out, tucking a lock of hair behind the girl’s ear. “I’m afraid that the world is not very kind to us women. Your childhood, difficult as it may have been in its own right, has nonetheless been sheltered from this suffering. I am capable of defending you and myself, otherwise I would never have thought to take you into this part of town; but most women lack that luxury.”
Alicia was silent for a while. In the memories from Christine, she knew the woman had been subject to countless catcalls and unwanted attention from men, and that the woman had always carried mace in her purse as a precaution against aggressive advances. As a duke’s daughter Alicia herself had never been subject to such things. She knew that the gardener’s boy blushed and stuttered whenever she was around, but he was far too afraid of her to do anything but hastily bow and flee from her presence. Now, for the first time, she realized that such gross language and assault must be even more common here than it was in Christine’s world. Moreover, the women of this world could hardly buy a taser or a can of mace, and even if they did fight off the attacker, it was unlikely that the police or the courts would take their side.
She made a promise to herself, that she would figure out a way for women to defend themselves. But before she did that, she needed to make sure she was safe as well. Alicia looked to the governess, who was staring out at the city with an unreadable expression. “Could you teach me how to fight, Miss Hartwright? To defend yourself, as you did?”
The governess turned to the girl, looking at her appraisingly. “I can’t, my lady.” she replied, “I am not very suited to teach the arts of combat. However, I know someone who can.”