against hers under cover of the robes. Alice made herself blush, but let her leg remain for quite a long moment before shifting away. Norbert’s expression didn’t shift as he changed the subject.
“I hear the Hats-On Committee is proposing more legislation regarding child labor in factories,” he said. “As if I don’t have to deal with enough regulations. I already can’t hire children under the age of ten, and they can’t work more than ten hours per day. Now they want to cut the time back to eight hours and institute a minimum wage.”
This time Alice was ready for him. “Why hire children at all?”
“They work for less than adults. And their hands are smaller, which makes them better at assembling certain machines.”
This time as he talked, Alice was careful to pay attention so she could insert the proper comments in the proper places. It was a bit audacious of them to be out without a chaperone, but they were in public and both of them were older, so Alice found it acceptable. The driverless carriage wound through the park, the automatic horse that drew it clopping with mechanical precision. Steam snorted from the horse’s gleaming muzzle at regular intervals. Then another sound caught Alice’s attention. She laid a hand on Norbert’s arm to interrupt.
“Was that a pistol shot?” she asked.
He cocked his head. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“I’m quite certain I heard a shot.”
“In Hyde Park in broad daylight? You must be mistaken. The mist is playing tricks. But we could leave, if you’re fearful of your safety.”
“Certainly not,” Alice replied. “I won’t-”
The high, sweet sound of a violin slid through the fog, now close, now far away. Unable to help herself, Alice fell silent to listen. The melody was complicated and quick, happy with a hint of something else. Uncertainty? Fear?
“That’s lovely,” Alice breathed, entranced. The music pushed all fear of the phantom pistol from her mind. “Like a spirit asking to be set free.”
“You have a delightful turn of phrase, Miss Michaels,” Norbert was saying. “Truly.”
Alice sighed. “He sounds festive and frightened at the same time. How does he-” The music stopped, and Alice felt crushed. Her face fell. “Oh. How disappointing.”
“We could try to find him, if you like,” Norbert offered gallantly. “I’m sure he’d play if you asked.”
She almost took him up on it-but no. What would she do if she found the musician? Fawn on him with Norbert looking on? “You’re very kind, Mr. Williamson, but we’d never find him in this mist.” She patted his hand. “Best to leave it a fond memory. Still, I’m finding it a bit chilly.”
Norbert took the hint and leaned forward to flip levers and twist dials on a control box set into what would be the backward-facing seat of the carriage. The mechanical horse paused, then set off at a brisk trot. In a short time, the conveyance arrived at the small row house Alice shared with her father. Their little meetings were taking on a regularity. Each one involved a simple activity-a drive through the park, a walk in London, a picnic at the river-and each one lasted no more than two hours. This was exactly the case today.
Norbert helped her down from the carriage, his almost-handsome features brightened considerably by a fashionably cut waistcoat and fine wool jacket and a high hat. His clothes and his outrageously expensive carriage only made Alice’s neighborhood seem even shabbier, but as always, he pretended not to notice, and Alice pretended not to notice he was pretending not to notice.
“So good of you to join me, Miss Michaels,” Norbert said, his usual farewell.
“So good of you to invite me, Mr. Williamson,” she said, her usual reply.
Their eyes met for a moment, brown to brown. Alice held her breath. Now was the moment. It would happen. She would feel a catch in her throat, a flutter in her breast, a weakening in her knees.
She felt nothing.
Quickly, she lowered her eyes and released his hand as if a bit overcome, turned, and fled into the house. Once inside, she peeped through the drawing room window in time to watch Norbert’s carriage pull away.
“All London is astir, darling. You have to tell me everything!”
Alice spun around so quickly, her skirts swirled to catch up with her. Louisa Creek was sitting in a wingback chair, an open book in her hand and Click in her lap. She wore a soft green dress with a stark white hat and matching white gloves.
“Louisa!” Alice gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“You never called on me after the ball.” Louisa idly stroked Click’s brass back with her free hand. “I was deeply wounded and came to see about your apology. Your father-a very nice man who was quite pleased to discover his close-mouthed daughter actually has a friend-invited me in and offered to let me sit until you came home. We had a nice chat until he retired for his nap. I’m surprised he didn’t recognize me, but he
“Why would he recognize you?”
“We ran in the same circles years ago, darling. I’m surprised he never mentioned me.”
“Oh. Yes. Well.” Alice hung her jacket on the coatrack to regain her composure. Finding Louisa in her drawing room was like discovering a kitten in the cupboard-not necessarily unwelcome, but still startling. “I see you’ve met Click.”
“Indeed. He’s charming.” She stood up, dumping the affronted Click off her lap and tossing the book aside. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll help you change, and you can beg my forgiveness while you tell me all about this tempestuous affair with Norby.”
In an instant, Louisa was up the steps and disappearing around the turn. A pang touched Alice’s stomach. “Louisa! Wait!”
She gathered her long skirts and hurried up the stairs. In the tiny hallway, Louisa was already opening Alice’s bedroom door. Before Alice could stop her, she strode on in. Alice halted. There was a long, long silence.
“Alice!” Louisa called. “Really!”
Alice sighed, straightened her back, and marched in. “Yes?”
Louisa stood in the middle of the room surrounded by Alice’s little automatons. More than a dozen of them scampered, climbed, crawled, and flitted about her. Louisa stared at them, her mouth agape.
“I’m so sorry,” Alice babbled. “I usually shut them away when company comes, but I didn’t know you were-”
“These are astonishing, darling.” Louisa put out her hand, and one of the whirligig automatons landed on it. “The work of a true genius. Are they gifts from Norby?”
“No.”
“Did you make them yourself, then?”
“I assembled them. They came in pieces as gifts from my aunt Edwina.”
“She sounds a fascinating woman! I
Alice edged closer. “You’re not upset?”
“Upset? Why would I be upset?”
“Women aren’t engineers,” Alice said.
“Yes, they are,” Louisa said. “You of all people must have heard of Countess Ada Lovelace, and she isn’t alone in the field.”
“Ada Lovelace didn’t work for money. She had the wealth to flout convention.”
Louisa flipped the automaton into the air and leveled a hard gaze at Alice. “You honestly thought someone who flouted convention would bother
“Oh.” Alice felt she was rapidly losing more and more control of the situation. “I mean, we haven’t known each other that long.”
“Now you owe me two apologies,” Louisa sniffed. “Let’s get you changed. You smell like machine oil from that dreadfully overstated carriage your beau drives. Do you keep your wardrobe locked?”
“No, of course not.” Alice straightened again and clapped her hands. “I need an at-home dress. My blue one, please.”
The automatons rushed to open the wardrobe and bring out Alice’s dress, which glided through the air like a ghost. Another automaton dashed up to pry open Alice’s shoes while a flier zipped around behind to start on her back buttons. Inscribed on the flier’s side were the words
