A Curious Beginning Read Online Free Page A

distress was persuasive, but his willingness to permit me to choose my own destination decided me. O! There ought to have been a frisson of foreknowledge, a shiver of precognition that the choice to accompany the baron would prove the single most significant decision of my entire existence. And yet there was not. I was aware of a mild curiosity about his excitability and the natural lifting of the spirits that accompanies the beginning of any great journey. But above all this was the cool satisfaction at having saved myself the price of a ticket to London. It was to cause me great amusement later to reflect that my life turned on a penny that day.
    He gestured towards the front door. “My carriage is outside and I will offer you every comfort.”
    â€œAnd once in London?”
    He shook his head. “I will have to make plans as we go. I did not anticipate this.” He fell to muttering again, this time in German, and I covered his hand with my own.
    â€œI will come.”
    The years seemed to fall away from him. “Thank God for that!”
    I detached myself gently. “I will fetch my bag.”
    He shook his head forcefully. “We cannot tarry, child. Time is of the greatest importance!”
    I patted his arm consolingly. “My dear baron, I am already packed.”

CHAPTER THREE
    I was as good as my word, and within ten minutes of agreeing to leave with the baron, I was in his carriage, my carpetbag and butterfly net perched on the seat beside me. I left the remains of the Harbottle treasury with a note for the landlord and considered the matter closed. I reasoned the sum should be sufficient to settle the damages. I had brought with me my own slender funds, tucked carefully into a clever pocket hidden in my jacket. I had changed from my mourning ensemble to a costume of my own design, and the baron regarded me curiously.
    â€œYou are not what I expected,” he ventured at last, but his tone was not unkind and his eyes shone warmly.
    I nodded. “I seldom am. I have tried, I assure you. I have been brought up to do good works and to conduct myself with propriety and decorum, and yet I am forever doing the unexpected. Something always gives me away for what I really am.”
    â€œAnd what are you, child?”
    â€œA woman in search of adventure,” I said gravely.
    The baron sketched a gesture that encompassed me from head to toe. “And these garments will help you to find one?”
    I was quite proud of my ensemble. My boots were flat and laced almost to the knee to protect my lower limbs from thorns and branches whilst butterflying. I had modified my corset to a more athletic arrangement with light steel stays that might, in an hour of necessity, be used as weapons. I wore slim trousers tucked into the boots, and over it all a narrow skirt with a peculiar arrangement of buttons that permitted it to be raised to the knee or opened entirely to allow me to ride astride. There was a fitted jacket to match with an assortment of clever pockets, and into one I had tucked the good luck charm I was never without—a tiny mouse of grey velvet called Chester, the sole relic of my childhood.
    My only jewelry was the small case compass pinned to my jacket, a present from Aunt Lucy to commemorate my first expedition—“So you will always find your way, child,” she had told me, her eyes bright with unshed tears as I left home for the first time. I brought with me nothing of Aunt Nell’s except an appreciation for a clean white shirtwaist. The fabric of this curious suit was a serviceable dark grey wool, but I had made one or two allowances for vanity. The grey wool was trimmed with scrolls of rather dapper black silk passementerie, while my hat was an absolute confection. Broad of brim, with a snug, deep crown, it was crafted of fine black straw and wound with a length of black silk tulle that could be lowered to veil my face should bees prove troublesome. A bouquet