Chapter One
“Maria, where’s my linen nightshirt?” Dorothea’s words were slightly muffled as she spoke from inside the large bureau where she was rummaging with all the enthusiasm of a ferret in search of a rabbit.
“In the lower drawer, Miss Doro,” answered her maid with a sigh.
“Oh yes, I have it.” She produced the garment, shook it out, and then walked to her bed, laying it on top of some of the other clothing she’d stacked there.
“Are you doing something with this lot?” Maria looked at the pile. “It’s clean, you know. And I can’t see anything that doesn’t fit, so you’re not throwing it all away, are you?”
“Great gears, no.” Dorothea managed a quick laugh. “These are my most favourite clothes.”
“Yes...and...?” Maria waited, a wary eye on her mistress.
“And I thought, if I were to take a trip to visit, ooh, let’s see, my dearest friend Amelia Hatch, perhaps? Then I would certainly need an overnight bag with me, wouldn’t I?”
“Well, yes, Miss...”
“There, you see? Nothing like being prepared.” A petticoat was added to the pile. “And Amelia told me that she was going to invite me to stay for a while before Christmas, so I thought it best to be ready.”
“Ah.” Maria stared at her.
“Really, Maria.” Dorothea sighed and sat on the bed. “I will tell you a secret if you promise to keep it to yourself...”
“Of course, Miss. You know you can trust me.”
“I do indeed. Well, Amelia actually sent me an invitation a few days ago, but because Mama and my brother had already invited some guests, I had to tell her I would be delaying my arrival.” She sighed somewhat theatrically, then caught herself and straightened, then leaned forward and lowered her voice.
“It was unavoidable, Maria. The guests were gentlemen that my brother deemed appropriate suitors.”
“Oh, Miss,” Maria clasped her hands together over her heart. “And did you accept one?”
“Well, not exactly. A girl needs time to consider this sort of decision, you know. It is most important. So, I have decided to spend a few days with Amelia. She is so sensible about these things. It will be an enormous help to me to be able to confide in her and hear her thoughts on the matter.”
“But...must you leave now? It’ll be dark soon...”
Dorothea smiled. “How kind you are, Maria. But no need to concern yourself. I have told Mama and Randolph of my plans, and they have agreed. Ordinarily, they would have sent for the Renslow steamsled, but with Papa out of town, Randolph suggested we keep that one available for Mama. You know how many times we’ve taken one together, so you have no need to worry at all. Three short levels and I’m there.”
“You don’t want me to come too?” Maria’s voice betrayed her shock.
“I would love it, of course, but at this time, Amelia’s house is full to the brim with her family’s guests and their servants. And it’ll only be for a night or two.” She hugged the girl. “I shall miss you, Maria. But Amelia’s maid can easily do for two of us.”
“I remember Susan,” nodded Maria. “She’s very nice.”
“So there it is,” Dorothea stood. “If you’ll help me fold my things, I’ll put them in my portmanteau.”
“Of course, Miss,” Maria immediately began to sort, smooth, and fold her mistress’s garments.
The slightly battered grey portmanteau showed signs of some wear, which Dorothea thought was a rather fortunate thing, since nobody would pay much attention to a young woman carrying a well-used bag.
Her mind catalogued the clothing items she’d taken from her wardrobe and bureau, making sure that everything she anticipated needing was disappearing inside the grey leather case.
When the last few things remained, Dorothea straightened and turned to Maria.
“Dear girl, would you be so kind as to make me a cup of tea? And perhaps some of those lovely little plum pudding cakes that I could smell this afternoon?”
“Of course, Miss,” smiled Maria. “It’ll take me a while, since the kitchen is preparing for dinner, and Lord Randolph is expecting some guests. You know how that puts Cook into a panic.”
“I do indeed. Don’t rush. I expect dinner will be held back a little anyway. My brother does like to talk at length. Even with his friends.” She sighed.
“Very well then, Miss. I’ll put your portmanteau here by the door, so when you’re ready, just ring the bell and I’ll have one of the footmen come up and collect it for you.”
“Excellent,” smiled Dorothea. “What would I do without you?” She put her arm around her maid’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “Thank you, dear Maria. You are truly a wonderful help to me.”
“Aww, Miss, go on with you,” blushed the maid. “Now you finish up and make sure you’ve packed everything you need? Although I know you can always have things sent over if you find you need something.”
“That’s right. I can indeed.” She sighed. “Off with you, then. And I’ll find my bonnet.”
At last, after what seemed like at least a twelvemonth, Dorothea was alone.
Without hesitation, she pulled out her oldest boots, knowing they were comfortable, warm, and could withstand quite a bit of abuse.
Since her simple and slightly out-of-fashion walking gown easily accommodated her greatcoat, she shrugged it on, fastened it, and reached for the matching bonnet, which she tied securely beneath her chin.
Catching a glimpse of herself in the piers glass, Dorothea was relatively satisfied at her appearance.
Her clothing was unobtrusive, clean but clearly not in the latest style, and her bonnet had seen better days.
She looked exactly the way she wanted and hoped she would pass as an upper-class servant or the daughter of a middle-class household.
Holding her breath, she opened her door onto an empty corridor.
Offering a quick prayer to St. Virellus, asking that he keep his lightning and his sparks away from her path this night, Dorothea walked silently along the corridors of Renslow House, down one of the many back staircases, and finally out into the icy cold night.
There were no stables here, just one or two velocipods.
The Renslow steamsleds were tucked away in the large garage against the chance of snow, which circumstance also happened to render the entire area devoid of life.
No servants or drivers lolled around waiting for orders, they were most likely tucked up by the fire in their quarters behind the garage.
All was exactly as Dorothea had hoped.
Taking a deep breath of the crisp evening air, she carefully picked her way down the huge steel staircase, through the lower levels of Renslow House, past the basement and the servant’s quarters, and finally out onto the hard surface of the sledway, where the colourful lights spread their holiday cheer down onto a smooth iron road.
A shiver of excitement travelled down her spine as she realised she was finally, absolutely, and undeniably alone.
She stood for a few minutes, absorbing the silence, aware that for the first time in her life, she was free, independent, able to make her own decisions.
The distant clang of a bell caught her attention, and she turned to see the lights of an oncoming aethercoach.
This was it.
Dorothea pulled her steamstamp from her pocket, running her thumb over the engraved “R” that signified her family’s credit account. Would it be traceable? Probably, but not immediately. By the time anyone thought to explore its usage, it would be too late.
Because Lady Dorothea Langley, the only daughter of the Duke of Renslow, and a young woman who had had enough up to her eyeballs, was bloody well going to disappear.
*~~*~~*
Given the lateness of the afternoon, Dorothea soon realised she’d unwittingly picked the perfect time to vanish.
Hardly any of the seats were occupied, and the few passengers she saw were nestled comfortably together in the elegantly decorated front of the cabin that served first-class passengers only.
Later, the rest of the aethercoaches would be overflowing with people returning to their homes after a day’s work, although at this level even those might have thinned enough to leave spaces. She relaxed, settling more comfortably and tucking her bag beneath her skirts.
It would not be a long trip, no more than half an hour, she knew. And it was a familiar route, since she and various members of the family had often ridden down to the third level markets, not to mention the second level emporiums.
She’d always preferred this method of transportation over the impressive Renslow steamsled.
It might have delivered her family promptly to the door of their destination, but it never gave her the chance to people-watch, something she very much enjoyed.
Back then, as now, Dorothea spun tales around her fellow passengers, and the time passed quickly as the vehicle’s tracks began to tilt downward.
When her station arrived, she slipped quietly onto the platform, hooked her bag over her shoulder, and pulled up the collar of her coat.
It was colder here, and would be colder still as she continued her downward journey.
This was now the time for her to follow the route she had mapped out in her mind.
Take the second tunnel from this platform, turn right, and then follow the signs to the Trammelbuggy Depot.
There, she should find several stops, one of which would take her even nearer to her goal, and further away from a life she knew was not for her.
A few people nodded as they passed, but the temperature of the air precluded any lengthy conversation.
The distinct odour of the Trammelbuggy told her that she had arrived at the right spot.
Alone now, she moved to a bench to await the next one, shrugging her collar even higher around her neck.
The ventilation shafts were nice in the summer, but of little use against the ice-cold air sinking down through them to the tracks below.