A Mad, Wicked Folly Read Online Free Page B

ago.
Crapper was Papa’s bête noire, and the mere mention of the
name sent him into a fury. To lose another royal contract to
that company would be a terrible blow.
Freddy looked at me in sympathy. “Not to worry. I’m
sure Dad will find someone else who can help. He’s already
working the chaps he knows at the Reform Club.”
“Papa probably wants to roast me over an open fire
now,” I said.
“I think that would be the least of your punishments.
He’s very angry. Roasting would be a merciful death, I
should think.”
“Do you have a whiff of anything?”
Freddy shrugged. “No. I do know that another finishing
school is out. No one would have you.”
“It would be nice if someone asked me what I’d like to
do. I’m not a child.”
“Go on,” he prodded. “I know you’ve a wheeze or two
hatching in that mind of yours.”
“I should like to go to college.”
“You’re wasting your time,” he said. “Dad will never
give his permission, even on a good day when all is right
in his world. You know what he thinks about higher education for females.”
“Yes, well, that’s where you come in. You’re going to help
me convince him. Louisa Dowd goes to medical university.
Times are changing.” Our neighbor’s daughter attended a
medical school that had recently begun admitting women.
“You want to be a physician like Miss Dowd, is that
what you’re saying?”
“No! I would not want to have snotty children sneezing
all over me and people complaining of piles and digestive
difficulties. And Lord knows the places on a person she’ll
have to look to make her diagnoses.” Freddy screwed his
mouth up, trying not to smile. I could always make him
laugh. “But I should like to go to art college.”
“Why? You already know how to draw and such. Why
do you need to go to college?”
“I want to learn more, and I want to paint, and if I’m
going to be able to exhibit my work, I need the contacts in
the art world who will help me along that path.”
“Exhibit?” Freddy looked dubious.
“Just, leave it, Freddy. I want to go, and my reasons for
going are my reasons. I’m not going to explain myself.” I was
growing frustrated. What if Freddy refused to help me?
“Fine then, you’ll also need Dad’s coin. University is
expensive.”
“I’ll earn a scholarship.”
“And if you don’t?”
“I don’t know. I suppose I can earn money . . . somehow.”
“Oh, give over, Vicky; how?”
“Can you pay me to illustrate your novelettes?”
“Oh, no. Not a chance. Penny dreadfuls aren’t the place
for women’s pictures of bowls of fruit and bunches of flowers. We print drawings of highwaymen and demon barbers
of Fleet Street. Not appropriate subjects for a girl.”
I pinched him on the arm. “I don’t draw bowls of fruit!
Nor do I draw bunches of flowers!”
“Ow!” He rubbed his arm. “All right, then. You don’t
draw fruit. You needn’t resort to violence to make your
point.”
“Just let me have a chance. Please, Fred.”
“No. It’s utterly absurd.”
“Why is it so absurd? I can illustrate as well as any
man. These are modern times, and women are still treated
as nothing but pretty dolls or lapdogs!”
“Nevertheless, Dad would never forgive me if I
allowed such a thing. I’ve just returned to his good graces,
and what with Rose in her confinement, I simply can’t
risk another row.”
“What does Rose’s lying-in have to do with it? Papa cares
not a fig about babies. I doubt he’ll even make the journey
across town to see it when it’s born. Much too taxing for
him, I’d say. And then when it starts yelling and squalling,
as babies are wont to do, he’ll be first out the door.”
“It?” Freddy tilted his head toward me.
“Very well. Her! Charlotte would love a little sister.”
“Him, I’d prefer.”
I opened my mouth in retort.
He held up his finger. “A sister needs a brother’s guidance to rub along in life.”
I shot him a filthy look. He laughed.
“I feel very