rat-a-tat on the door ended their conversation before she could explore further. Hubert entered, his faced wreathed in a relieved smile.
“Just popping in to let you know I’ve managed to escape the paleobotanists, but it won’t be long before tea is served, and they’ll be baying for Sangfroid, heart, mind, and soul,” he said and shot Sangfroid a mischievous glance.
“I haven’t managed to clean her up yet.” Millicent gave Sangfroid’s filthy uniform a disappointed look. “We’ve been too busy talking.”
“And how is that going?” Hubert asked.
“Unsurprisingly difficult,” Millicent said. “And we’ve only just started.”
“There’s more?” Sangfroid was disconcerted.
Hubert held out a black drape coat and a rather natty top hat. “These were my father’s. He was a large man, and some of his stuff might very well fit. Well, almost fit.” He ran a calculating eye over Sangfroid’s frame. “Let’s go to upstairs and see what we can find.” He looked to Millicent for approval, and she nodded in agreement.
“She can’t go about dressed as she is. She’ll get arrested. I’ll have her uniform sent out and laundered for the morning,” she said.
“I don’t need laundering.” Sangfroid suspiciously studied the coat Hubert held out. “This stuff just sponges off. See.” She scratched a fingernail over a particularly crusty patch to prove her point.
Hubert paled as a nodule of human skin pinged off. “It will take more than a sponge and scratch to get past the doorman at the Prometheus club.”
“We’re going to a club?” Sangfroid perked up. “Is that like a bar?”
“No, the Prometheus club is for gentlemen of a scientific persuasion.” Hubert led her to the door. “What say you try on a clean pair of trousers and maybe a shirt, then we’ll head for my club, and I’ll explain more over a brandy, ’eh?”
Sangfroid hesitated and plucked her uniform, obviously loath lose it.
“The ladies will be disappointed to have missed you,” Hubert said, noting the lack of enthusiasm. “Of course, if you’d rather stay here and have tea with them instead?” he added. Sangfroid shrugged out off her uniform jacket in double quick time and dragged on the proffered coat.
“This fits fine.” She tugged hard at the short sleeves. “Let’s go.”
Hubert and Millicent’s father may have been a big man, but he was no match for Sangfroid’s dimensions.
“Good man,” Hubert approved.
“But I’m not a man.” Sangfroid lips twisted in disapproval. “Why does everybody get that wrong?”
“Because, for this age, you are so far removed from the feminine norm, I suppose,” Hubert said. “And it’s best to keep it like that for as long as you’re visiting. ’Eh, Major, old boy?” He winked. “Now, what say we find you some clean trousers and a shirt, and then we’ll be on our way.”
“So, we’re going to a club?” Sangfroid refocused on the interesting part, giving up the battle over civilian clothes. “And that’s not the same as a bar?”
“It has brandy.” Hubert patted her on the shoulder. “And I’ll wager you need some.”
“Please be careful,” Millicent called after them.
“Oh, we will,” Hubert reassured her.
“Hey, I’m dead. What else can go wrong?” Sangfroid looked over her shoulder and gave Millicent her most inappropriate grin.
CHAPTER 10
Sangfroid checked out the Prometheus’s reading room from over the rim of her snifter with a certain amount of satisfaction. This was definitely a bar. Okay, so there weren’t any bar girls or even a dice table, but not all bars promoted prostitution, and they had passed a huge billiard room on the way in, so some gaming was allowed.
The journey over had been fascinating. Hubert had hailed a transport vehicle pulled by horses! A hansom cab, he’d called it. Sangfroid hadn’t seen horses since a childhood visit to a zoological garden. Though a few of the very privileged patricians kept them as
“Just popping in to let you know I’ve managed to escape the paleobotanists, but it won’t be long before tea is served, and they’ll be baying for Sangfroid, heart, mind, and soul,” he said and shot Sangfroid a mischievous glance.
“I haven’t managed to clean her up yet.” Millicent gave Sangfroid’s filthy uniform a disappointed look. “We’ve been too busy talking.”
“And how is that going?” Hubert asked.
“Unsurprisingly difficult,” Millicent said. “And we’ve only just started.”
“There’s more?” Sangfroid was disconcerted.
Hubert held out a black drape coat and a rather natty top hat. “These were my father’s. He was a large man, and some of his stuff might very well fit. Well, almost fit.” He ran a calculating eye over Sangfroid’s frame. “Let’s go to upstairs and see what we can find.” He looked to Millicent for approval, and she nodded in agreement.
“She can’t go about dressed as she is. She’ll get arrested. I’ll have her uniform sent out and laundered for the morning,” she said.
“I don’t need laundering.” Sangfroid suspiciously studied the coat Hubert held out. “This stuff just sponges off. See.” She scratched a fingernail over a particularly crusty patch to prove her point.
Hubert paled as a nodule of human skin pinged off. “It will take more than a sponge and scratch to get past the doorman at the Prometheus club.”
“We’re going to a club?” Sangfroid perked up. “Is that like a bar?”
“No, the Prometheus club is for gentlemen of a scientific persuasion.” Hubert led her to the door. “What say you try on a clean pair of trousers and maybe a shirt, then we’ll head for my club, and I’ll explain more over a brandy, ’eh?”
Sangfroid hesitated and plucked her uniform, obviously loath lose it.
“The ladies will be disappointed to have missed you,” Hubert said, noting the lack of enthusiasm. “Of course, if you’d rather stay here and have tea with them instead?” he added. Sangfroid shrugged out off her uniform jacket in double quick time and dragged on the proffered coat.
“This fits fine.” She tugged hard at the short sleeves. “Let’s go.”
Hubert and Millicent’s father may have been a big man, but he was no match for Sangfroid’s dimensions.
“Good man,” Hubert approved.
“But I’m not a man.” Sangfroid lips twisted in disapproval. “Why does everybody get that wrong?”
“Because, for this age, you are so far removed from the feminine norm, I suppose,” Hubert said. “And it’s best to keep it like that for as long as you’re visiting. ’Eh, Major, old boy?” He winked. “Now, what say we find you some clean trousers and a shirt, and then we’ll be on our way.”
“So, we’re going to a club?” Sangfroid refocused on the interesting part, giving up the battle over civilian clothes. “And that’s not the same as a bar?”
“It has brandy.” Hubert patted her on the shoulder. “And I’ll wager you need some.”
“Please be careful,” Millicent called after them.
“Oh, we will,” Hubert reassured her.
“Hey, I’m dead. What else can go wrong?” Sangfroid looked over her shoulder and gave Millicent her most inappropriate grin.
CHAPTER 10
Sangfroid checked out the Prometheus’s reading room from over the rim of her snifter with a certain amount of satisfaction. This was definitely a bar. Okay, so there weren’t any bar girls or even a dice table, but not all bars promoted prostitution, and they had passed a huge billiard room on the way in, so some gaming was allowed.
The journey over had been fascinating. Hubert had hailed a transport vehicle pulled by horses! A hansom cab, he’d called it. Sangfroid hadn’t seen horses since a childhood visit to a zoological garden. Though a few of the very privileged patricians kept them as
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