Steelhands (2011) Read Online Free Page A

should’ve worn something a little warmer.”
    “You look exquisite,” I told her, as the carriage driver handed off her bags. At least he was more delicate with hers than with mine; the benefits, I supposed, of being in a lady’s presence. “All you need now is a hat. I had no idea they’d be this popular.”
    “A warm hat, I hope,” Laure said. “One that will cover my ears. And a scarf, maybe?”
    I took her hand, tugging her over to one of the shop windows. Inside was an array that could only be described as luscious; I wished that the men’s fashions were as extravagant as the women’s. There was onewith a wide brim and a little white veil that would have suited her very nicely, and it was even the same green as the rest of her dress.
    “Well, bastion,” Laure said. “Would you look at
that
monster?”
    To my horror, she pointed at the hat in question by tapping her finger on the window, leaving behind a faint smudge. I fought the urge to clean it—an establishment as fine as this would have help of their own to do that—and had to admit the hat she was talking about, an immense red velvet affair, was a little too much even for my tastes. I couldn’t imagine the sort of woman who would wear it in earnest although I did wish I could see her dress.
    “Red doesn’t suit you, anyway,” I told her.
    She grinned. “So you’ve said.”
    If only I’d had more of an allowance, I thought sadly. I wouldn’t spend it all, of course, but neither would I hoard it. I would make one insane and wicked purchase, then keep it forever in my private little ’Versity room, to remind myself of how glorious life could be—would be, one day.
    Father, of course, would not have approved. I sniffed—and it wasn’t because of the cold.
    “Fine day for a little window-browsing, ain’t it?”
    I’d
begged
Laure before we came not to use such language—to clean herself up in mind as well as in body, so to speak—but the voice was not hers, and not one I recognized. Curious, I peered over my shoulder and was met with an assault to the eyes as well as to my nose. There was a man standing before us, about three days of beard growth covering the lower half of his face and a fine layer of dirt and grime covering everything else. He wore gloves, though his thumb was poking out of a sizable hole on the left, and when he smiled I could see that he’d replaced one of his teeth with what looked like a low-grade precious stone, the sort my governess had always worn, though those were bound to be paste more often than not.
    I fought the urge to hold my nose, but the effort it took not to leap back by at least a block was incredibly trying. This man was dirtier than Father’s pigs, and he was standing so near to us. My skin crawled, and Laure stepped closer.
    “New here, ain’t you?” the man asked, apparently not bothered by the fact that neither I nor my robust fiancée had engaged him in conversation.“I can tell by the bags and all.
Real
sharp, Old Drake is. Thought I might ask as to your final destination, me with a hansom cab and all to spare, and the weather turning sour the way she’s bound to do past midday.”
    “We’ll manage, I think,” Laure said, with a sniff of her own that probably
did
have more to do with the cold than anything else. Her sensibilities had never been delicate. I, however, was gagging. “Thank you for the offer.”
    “Well, now, no need to answer right away,” Old Drake said, licking his false tooth thoughtfully. He reached for the nearest bag—one of Laure’s, borrowed from her mother for the trip—and hefted it up as though to test its weight. “Just that this seems like an awfully heavy load for a pretty young lady such as yourself to be carrying
any
distance, no matter where you’re going.”
    “I do have some help,” Laure said, “not that you’d
know
it,” she added in a quieter tone, for my own benefit. This was followed by a
look
—one of her finest—which clearly