The Perilous Journey of the Not-So-Innocuous Girl by Leigh Statham Read Free Book Online

sight at first, then reassured the night had been a success.
    She let his assumptions go and spent the rest of the evening dancing with the suitors she found the least repulsive. She successfully avoided Laviolette, although he was not pursuing her as hotly as she first assumed. She made sure to give a large, luscious smile to Pomphart, whom she spied scowling from a dark corner at one point. And as the night came to a close, she couldn’t help but overhear the gossip of the crowd.
    In the end, everyone in attendance agreed that Delacourte had won the night. How could he not have? His clothes and manners were impeccable, he always knew what to say to make the old ladies twitter, and he looked like he was made to twirl the delicate little Marguerite around like a jewelry box duo.
    The guests convened on the roof to bid farewell to those traveling home by aership. Several small ships with deeply polished wooden passenger decks hovered over the rooftop garden. Their large, helium-filled canvasses were securely strapped to the decks like dirigibles of old. The only difference was a modern, steam-powered engine expertly built into the hull that propelled it silently in any direction the captain steered.
    Delacourte, determined to leave the night with the upper hand, made a grand show of bidding farewell to his quarry. Marguerite was too tired to discourage or embarrass him further. She thought nothing of offering her hand when he stooped low to kiss it. The heat lingering on her lips far out-burned this formal assault on her hand. She waved him away merrily and turned to look out over the estate in its midnight splendor, leaving those less affluent guests to proceed to the front hall to collect their carriages and steam motors with only her father’s adieu.
    The tiny homes and buildings dotting their land sparkled in the moonlight; drops of condensation from the steam pipes clung to the rooftops like diamonds. She picked out Claude’s home easily enough. It was the closest to the smithy shop, smaller than the rest, but perfect for himself and another smithy. There was a small candle warming the front window. Claude must have left it there for his roommate to find his way after the ball. She wondered who would take Claude’s bunk once he was gone.
    Her heart ached in its newfound depths. They had wasted so much time! All those lazy days hiding in the glen and running through the fields, they could have been planning all along. Who knew how much more time would pass before she would see him and be able to plan with him again. She looked away from the little hut, unable to process it all with her tired mind.
    She noticed a solitary figure walking leisurely through the night on the road to town. She could just make out his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, a merry bounce in his gait. Who could that be? she wondered. No guest of any sort of social standing would walk home from my party. None of the servants has business in town this time of night. She watched with great interest as the figure passed under the last of the gas lamps before leaving the official bounds of her family’s property. She quite liked the way he sauntered and skipped as if he hadn’t a care in the world on this dark, damp night. He twirled magnificently just as he passed under the light, causing Marguerite to recoil in disgust at her own appreciations: Captain Laviolette.
    She groaned out loud at herself. She knew it didn’t make sense, but somehow she felt he’d gotten the upper hand again. She pushed the thoughts of him quickly from her mind. With luck, she’d never have to see him again.
    She turned to descend the stairs just as she heard Madame Pomphart calling from below, “Marguerite! It is far too late for a lady to be spying from the rooftops! Come to bed this instant!”

Chapter Six

     
     
    The next morning, Marguerite’s human lady’s maid knocked timidly on the door before entering with her tray of brunch items. Marguerite rolled to