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Chapter 8
“I…” Violette broke off and lifted a hand to her face, struggling to dry her tears.
“Got lost on the way to some fancy ball?” the skinny lad asked as he laughed, his tone rather brusque. “You were lucky to escape without a shiner, Miss,” he said, pointing at her face. “And with your money. You leapt out a carriage or something? Must be lost. You do not belong here, Miss.”
The words made her crumple, and the tears came harder.
“Oh, oops…” the skinny lad scratched his head rather uncomfortably. “My apologies. My mother always said I am as rough in manner as I am in appearance. I meant no slight, Miss. It is just…this,” he gestured to her, “is not something you see everyday round here. Let me start again. Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said, trying to stop her tears as she dried her cheeks with her sleeve. “I owe that to you,” she said, then narrowed her eyes. “I thank you for what you have done, but you could do with losing the brusque tone.”
“My apologies,” he said with a small smile and held up his hands to her in his crouched position. “I truly did mean no slight. Do you want some help?” he asked, gesturing to her buckled position on the ground.
“I am fine,” she said, lifting her chin higher as she stood to her own feet. She didn’t need help standing up, or she really would be the weak woman Mrs Anderson had always been trying to teach her to be. “Thank you for driving him away.”
“No problem,” he said with a smile as he too stood straight. “You have to keep an eye out in these parts. Men here that cannot be trusted. Apparently, women too,” he said, pointing at her. “Why on earth are you here?”
She saw no harm in telling him the truth, and she had no wish to hide it.
“I ran away from home,” she said as she adjusted her clothes. “Call it a need to wander, or call it anger at being set upon a certain path in life as a woman—”
“Oh, yes, spending your days carted between balls and assemblies, looked after with money poured upon you every day, sounds like an awful life.” The scrawny lad’s words made her pause. She could see from the raggedy looking clothes he wore he didn’t have much money to his name. She supposed from his perspective she must look rather misguided and selfish. The thought made her shift between her feet.
“Money does not buy you happiness,” she said tartly, lifting her chin a little higher. “Dislike me for my decision all you like, but it was the right thing for me to do. Good day to you,” she nodded her head to him, turned and walked off, heading straight back to the piazza.
“Wait!” he said, calling after her. She didn’t stall, she just kept walking, keen to get back to the main streets. By the time she reached them, the scrawny lad had caught up with her again and was walking alongside her. “I did not mean to judge you. That’s another one of my problems, according to my mother, always jumping to conclusions. Must be something bad at home if you would run off and change who you are to get away.”
She smiled a little at the idea. Strangely, she felt more like who she truly was dressed as a man than she did when she was at home in her gowns.
“Thank you,” she said. “I do not need a guard though, so I thank you for your kindness in helping me this morning, but you do not need to keep walking alongside of me.” She walked past some of the market stalls. It was so busy that the lad was unable to follow her. Instead, he walked down the other side of the stalls, waving madly at her, trying to hold onto her attention.
“Wait, I must speak with you again!”
“You are persistent,” she marvelled with wonder as she cut through some of the stalls, passing some of the people and coming back toward him. “What is it you wish to say?”
“Well…” he paused and looked at her, his blue eyes wide as he brushed back the fair hair from his forehead. “My mother says I must better myself, if I want to keep eating and not starve.” She looked down at his body, seeing that he was particularly scrawny looking, with the loose clothes hanging off his form.
“Ah,” she said with a smile. “You see me as your ticket for something better?”
“Well, maybe I can make myself useful to you,” he said, gesturing to himself. “I can fight off any man that tries to steal from you again, or anything you need.”
Violette frowned as she stared at him, crossing her arms. She was in need of someone to play the role of her valet after all, but he hardly looked suitable for the role. Then again, she could hardly hire a normal valet to take the position either.
“You must be desperate if you would ask me for a job,” she said, biting her lip.
“Believe me, I am,” he said, nodding. “What do you need? I can walk down the street and make sure no one looks you in the eye, so they do not discover who you really are.”
“Shh!” she said hurriedly, looking around herself and readjusting her top hat on her head. “You are the first to notice, funnily enough.”
“Really?” he said, then took a step back. “Actually, yes, come to think of it, I may have just thought you an effeminate man, had I not heard you scream.” She glared at him and crossed her arms, prompting the lad to laugh heartily. “Please? Is there anything I can do?”
“There is something…” she murmured, deciding she had little choice in the end. She needed a valet, and she wasn’t going to get one through conventional methods. “I need a valet.”
His eyes widened as he looked down at the clothes on his body.
“Any other ideas?” he asked. Then he pointed at her too and lifted his eyebrows.
“Do not let your mind go there!” she said, watching as he laughed.
