Lady Ironheart

Chapter Three

I slip downstairs, hoping against hope that my mother will still be asleep. I can't have Marius knowing where I'm going, even if I'm not quite sure myself, so I'll have to call a hansom. I'm quite prepared to slip out of the door, but there's my mother, sitting in a chair and sipping tea. "Good morning, Sophie. I trust you slept well?" The glimmer in her hazel eyes tells me that my mistake of yesterday is not forgotten, but that she's willing to forgive my negligence for the time being.

"Good morning, Mother." I take a seat beside her, fidgeting nervously with the sash of my dress.

"Do have a cup of tea." She pours the tea from an elegant silver pot, spilling not a drop. There have been rumors, before, that my mother was a serving girl before she married my father. There is, indeed, a certain practiced efficiency to the way she pours tea and serves cake, but my mother has always been a highborn lady.

"Thank you, Mother." I smile wanly and adjust my skirt. "By a matter of coincidence, how many times did you wind me last night?"

My mother studies her fingernails, and when she speaks, her voice is a little cold. "I gave you time to sleep, plus the full twenty-four turns. Unlike yourself, I know how important time is."

Twenty-four hours. That's how long I have to get my key back and find out who's taken it. That's how long I have before my heart stops. I stand up quickly, nearly upsetting the tea table. "If you would be kind enough to excuse me, Mother, I have a very important meeting with a friend that I have to get to."

She raises her tea to her lips and takes a barely perceptible sip. "Oh. Which friend is it?"

I fumble for a name she won't question. "Lady Mallory Kennagh, her family's from Ireland?" The simple statement comes out as more of a question, and I bite my lip.

"I assume you'll be walking about, so bring a parasol." My mother nods at the umbrella stand in the front hall. "I have a blue one that you may borrow."

"Thank you!" I must make a dignified exit, so when I stand up and leave the house, it is with propriety in every step. I get near to the carriage house, supposing that I'll have to get a ride from Marius after all. He's standing by a horse's stall, petting its nose and whispering into its velvet ear.

"Ah, Lady Alderice. Up early, are we?" Marius has been with the family for a very long time. He drove my parents to the chapel on their wedding day, and brought the midwife home when I was born.

"Yes, sir." I grin at him, but the smile doesn't really reach my eyes. "I need a ride to Aldsborough Way, but I will take a hansom back." I don't need to add the part about meeting a friend. Marius wouldn't believe me if I did.

"Alright, I'll bridle up the horses and get you there in barely a moment." He tips his dusty cap to me, and then goes over to the horses. "Up, Charlotte, up, Montgomery. The lady needs a ride."

Watching the care he takes in preparing each horse, talking to them in gentle words and soft clicks of the tongue, makes me smile. He clearly cares for them very much. I climb into the carriage, making sure that my skirts do not get caught in the door. I wonder what Aldsborough Way will even look like. Will it be a reputable main road, with colorful shops and well-dressed patrons, or perhaps more of a dangerous backstreet where a lady should not wander alone?

The streets of London blur before my eyes, but this time it's because I am so caught up in thought. Besides myself and the person who gave it to me, my mother is the only one who knows that my heart is anything but ordinary. She and I have kept the secret of the key all fifteen years of my life, and not even my father knew about it.

"Aldsborough Way, lady." Marius jerks the horses to a stop, then walks around to open the door for me. I walk out slowly.

"Thank you. You can go back to the house, if you wish." I lift the hem of my skirt for a moment, as the hem is just a tiny bit too long for my slight stature. As Marius goes back around to the horses, I hear metal jangling in his pockets and jump. Marius starts with the letter 'M'. He's always carrying coins and keys around. "Turn out your pockets first."

"Lady?" He looks a little concerned and confused.

"Turn them out, show me what's in them." My hands find their place on my hips. "I-it's a new procedure that my mother told me to carry out." I send up a mental prayer that God will forgive me for all of the lies I will tell today. Marius opens his mouth to protest, then shrugs and begins to remove coins, lumps of sugar for the horses, and a few small keys. I lift a few of the keys in curiosity, but none of them are as elegantly wrought or intricate as mine. "Thank you, that is all."

I lift my parasol over my shoulder, marvelling at its heft. It's heavier than any I've ever carried, most likely because of the scrimshaw handle. The numbers of the buildings are mostly brass, though a few look to be simple wood. When I spot 3181, I walk up the crumbling steps and then rap sharply on the door.

It's pulled open by a girl who looks to be of Asian origin, with hair black as pitch. She is not dressed as a maid, surprisingly, but in a thoroughly indecent outfit of chemise, corset, many petticoats, and what appears to be a grease-stained toolbelt. Her hair is held back in a leather band. "Wotcher," she says, in a thick Cockney accent.

"W-wotcher," I stammer in reply. I have no idea what this new phrase means, but it feels unnatural on my tongue.

"You're a green one, aren't you?" She looks amused by my innocence.

"I received a note this morning which asked me to come to this location. Someone wants to speak with me?" I close my parasol decisively.

The girl's eyes widen. "The Inventor must have wanted you. Come on inside!"

When she turns to let me in, my jaw drops. Visible over the top of her chemise, where her spine should be, are copper plates and wide rings. Running through them is a glass tube that is glowing a very faint green. The tube disappears into her hair, leaving a slight bump beneath her ebony locks.

I take a tentative step into the house, my hands shaking. I've never before seen someone who was like me, never thought I might meet someone who was a little more or a little less than normal.

"I'm Cinda Yi." Cinda seems to know that I'm staring at her back, but she doesn't act disturbed. On the contrary, she moves her hair over her shoulder so that I can better see the glass tube.

As we move further in, I see that we're in less of a home and more of a warehouse. The walls are cold stone, and the windows, for some odd reason, have grates over them. I press a hand to my chest, comforted by the routine tick of my heart. I'm hit with a pang as I realize that tick may not be routine much longer.

"What's your name? If you don't tell me, I'll just call you Greenie."

"Lady Sophia Alderice." I drop a curtsy, and she snickers. "What's so funny?"

"We don't get many 'ladies' around here." Cinda brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Who is this 'we'?" I drag my parasol along the cold floor. Cinda brings me forward a few steps, into a dark room.

There are but a few shadowy pieces of furniture in the room, and at the moment, all of the lights are off. I feel a frisson down my back, like hot breath on the back of my neck. Every hair on my body pricks up. When the lamps are lit, I scream without thinking.

There's a ragged posse of people standing before me. There' s a few women and men of varying ages, plus a young boy. All of them are clothed in an odd array of jackets and toolbelts, hats and goggles and thick-soled boots, all shabby and stained with oil. Every single one of them looks fierce, a little war-torn. All of them are like me.