The Wrong Girl

by CJ Archer

  ***

  London was nothing like I expected. I thought it would be all gleaming glass windows and vibrant color, but the reality was quite different. It was gray. Gray buildings, gray muddy roads and gray air. Even the people were dressed in gray, their faces merely a paler shade of the same color. The smells of horse dung and factory fumes clung to the city, and I insisted Sylvia keep the carriage window closed.

  "It's been so long since we've been here," she murmured, her nose pressed to the pane. "I'd quite forgotten what it was like. Look, there's a milliner's, and another, and...my goodness, there's four on this street alone!"

  "You'll be sure to find a hat you like then."

  "And you too."

  "You forget I haven't any money. There was no opportunity to ask Lord Wade for an allowance before I came."

  "Don't be like that, Violet. Uncle will buy you anything you want."

  "I doubt his generosity will extend to extra hats considering he's already provided several, thanks to you."

  She turned her bright smile on me. "Don't be silly! Of course he will. Anyway, Jack's in control of the money and he won't deny you anything."

  I smoothed down my skirts, intent on ignoring the rush of blood to my face that betrayed my thoughts. "Hasn't your uncle given you an allowance of your own to spend any way you like? Why must you rely on Jack?"

  "Because that's the way Uncle wishes it. Who am I to gainsay him?"

  "Perhaps you ought to try," I said, but she mustn't have heard me. She was too busy bouncing up and down, pointing at a confectioner's shop.

  "We'll be sure to visit there," she said. "I long for something sweet, a tart perhaps. Oh, and bonbons since Christmas isn't far away. I wonder how long before we arrive at our hotel."

  She chatted on as the carriage drove down streets bustling with late afternoon shoppers, pointing out things that took her fancy, which was almost everything. Her enthusiasm was infectious, however, and I too became engrossed in the sights through the window. London was truly an amazing city, and extensive. We seemed to be driving through it forever.

  But what really took my breath away was the lack of nature. No trees, no grass, not even a bird flew overhead. Not that I would have seen it anyway through the murky haze. Indeed, the only thing flapping up high were washed linens hung out to dry in some of the narrow alleys we passed. How anything dried in that filthy, damp air was a mystery.

  The carriage turned a few more corners, winding its way through the traffic, until finally the buildings became more magnificent and the pedestrians fewer and better clothed. This part of London at least seemed a little less gray than the rest.

  "We're here," Sylvia said as the carriage slowed. "Claridges."

  We pulled up at an impressive red brick building, and a liveried footman opened the carriage door for us. Jack jumped down from the driver's seat as the footman helped me down the carriage steps. More servants retrieved our luggage and carried it inside.

  "Did you know that royalty has stayed here?" Sylvia said to me as we crossed the tiled floor of the entrance hall.

  "It's very grand." The ceiling was high and the room enormous, much like Windamere's entrance hall. Indeed, the opulent furnishings and gleaming surfaces made it seem very similar to Lord Wade's home. I dared not touch anything lest one of the hovering footmen frown at me. At least at Frakingham the furniture was more functional and the servants scarce. For the first time since my abduction, I wished I was there.