negotiate further. If you agree, I will begin proceedings immediately. Once you have the deed in hand, you will need to hire bully-boys to turn out the squatters that appear to be living there at present. I know a man who could handle this for you.
I have heard interesting rumors that the glass-works on the other side of the bridge is looking to establish a housing development for its workers. Should this prove to be the case, you stand to make a tidy profit when they make you an offer for the property. I would be happy to act on your behalf in that event.
I remain,
Yours truly,
Richard Arundel
Arundel & Hollis, Solicitors
Excellent. Claire folded up the letter and tucked it into her reticule for answer later. It was clear the good Mr. Arundel did not pay much attention to the address codes on his tubes—which was all to the good. He would be terribly embarrassed had he known he had referred to her as a squatter.
“Will you be comfortable here until I come back?” she asked Dr. Craig, who was sitting on the bed attempting to make Weepin’ Willie answer her questions.
“Yes, certainly, once I find some breakfast. I haven’t had such an appetite in years. Why will this child not speak?”
“’E don’t,” Lizzie said, ever brief and to the point.
“Is he dumb?”
“’E ent.”
“Is he damaged psychologically?”
“Hey, now, don’t be sayin’ such about our Willie.” Lizzie’s frown was fearsome. “Lunatics wot got sprung out o’ Bedlam got no right to call others names.”
Claire gasped. “Lizzie! Apologize to Dr. Craig at once.”
“She ’as to go first.”
To Claire’s surprise, Dr. Craig was not offended—or even shocked. “My dear child, psychological simply means dealing with the mind. Sometimes a trauma early in one’s life can produce effects such as the inability to speak. I simply wondered if this was the case with, er, Willie.”
Lizzie eyed her, unconvinced.
“And I am not a lunatic,” Dr. Craig went on in the same tone. “I was put in Bethlehem Royal Hospital against my will by powerful men who wished to keep me quiet.”
“About what?”
“About my devices, among other things.”
“You gonna teach the Lady ’ow to make ’em?”
“That is our agreement. And I would very much like to begin work, so if you are joining Lady Claire in her expedition to find me clothes, I offer my thanks and wish you good speed.”
Lizzie hovered by the door. “Sorry I called yer a lunatic, Doc.”
“That is quite all right. You were laboring under a misapprehension, easily corrected.”
Claire went downstairs, hoping her astonishment was not plain on her face. Lizzie had never apologized to anyone in all the weeks they had been acquainted. She had come close to it once, but the words had not actually crossed her lips.
Perhaps the child was becoming civilized after all.
In Regent Street, Claire purchased a corset, several sets of unmentionables, a good walking skirt in navy wool, and two blouses of the sort she herself favored. Last, at the expedition outfitters’ in Market Street, she bought boots, a duster, and goggles so that the scientist’s clothes would not be damaged from traveling in the landau—or anywhere else.
“Is the Doc goin’ to South America?” Maggie gazed at the parcels and bags in wonder.
“She may, someday, as may we all,” Claire answered, stowing everything in the compartment behind the seat. “But for now, she may ride with us safely. What do you say to some tea at Fortnum’s and some new boots for the two of you?”
When they were comfortably seated in the tea room and had each ordered a plate of finger sandwiches, she looked up from enjoying her own creamed soup to see Emilie Fragonard across the room.
Her best friend from her past life was enjoying tea with a party of girls Claire vaguely remembered from their class at school. How strange. She hadn’t realized Emilie had been close with anyone but herself. But how lovely to see
I have heard interesting rumors that the glass-works on the other side of the bridge is looking to establish a housing development for its workers. Should this prove to be the case, you stand to make a tidy profit when they make you an offer for the property. I would be happy to act on your behalf in that event.
I remain,
Yours truly,
Richard Arundel
Arundel & Hollis, Solicitors
Excellent. Claire folded up the letter and tucked it into her reticule for answer later. It was clear the good Mr. Arundel did not pay much attention to the address codes on his tubes—which was all to the good. He would be terribly embarrassed had he known he had referred to her as a squatter.
“Will you be comfortable here until I come back?” she asked Dr. Craig, who was sitting on the bed attempting to make Weepin’ Willie answer her questions.
“Yes, certainly, once I find some breakfast. I haven’t had such an appetite in years. Why will this child not speak?”
“’E don’t,” Lizzie said, ever brief and to the point.
“Is he dumb?”
“’E ent.”
“Is he damaged psychologically?”
“Hey, now, don’t be sayin’ such about our Willie.” Lizzie’s frown was fearsome. “Lunatics wot got sprung out o’ Bedlam got no right to call others names.”
Claire gasped. “Lizzie! Apologize to Dr. Craig at once.”
“She ’as to go first.”
To Claire’s surprise, Dr. Craig was not offended—or even shocked. “My dear child, psychological simply means dealing with the mind. Sometimes a trauma early in one’s life can produce effects such as the inability to speak. I simply wondered if this was the case with, er, Willie.”
Lizzie eyed her, unconvinced.
“And I am not a lunatic,” Dr. Craig went on in the same tone. “I was put in Bethlehem Royal Hospital against my will by powerful men who wished to keep me quiet.”
“About what?”
“About my devices, among other things.”
“You gonna teach the Lady ’ow to make ’em?”
“That is our agreement. And I would very much like to begin work, so if you are joining Lady Claire in her expedition to find me clothes, I offer my thanks and wish you good speed.”
Lizzie hovered by the door. “Sorry I called yer a lunatic, Doc.”
“That is quite all right. You were laboring under a misapprehension, easily corrected.”
Claire went downstairs, hoping her astonishment was not plain on her face. Lizzie had never apologized to anyone in all the weeks they had been acquainted. She had come close to it once, but the words had not actually crossed her lips.
Perhaps the child was becoming civilized after all.
In Regent Street, Claire purchased a corset, several sets of unmentionables, a good walking skirt in navy wool, and two blouses of the sort she herself favored. Last, at the expedition outfitters’ in Market Street, she bought boots, a duster, and goggles so that the scientist’s clothes would not be damaged from traveling in the landau—or anywhere else.
“Is the Doc goin’ to South America?” Maggie gazed at the parcels and bags in wonder.
“She may, someday, as may we all,” Claire answered, stowing everything in the compartment behind the seat. “But for now, she may ride with us safely. What do you say to some tea at Fortnum’s and some new boots for the two of you?”
When they were comfortably seated in the tea room and had each ordered a plate of finger sandwiches, she looked up from enjoying her own creamed soup to see Emilie Fragonard across the room.
Her best friend from her past life was enjoying tea with a party of girls Claire vaguely remembered from their class at school. How strange. She hadn’t realized Emilie had been close with anyone but herself. But how lovely to see
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