Re: The Lieutenant/The Daughter
Mother would tell her not to go anywhere alone with a man. Especially one she didn't know. Especially one that couldn't shave. Especially one that touched her hip in more than an over-familiar passing way. Especially one that refused to be in any state at all. No. She made that last part up. But, Mother would say everything before it. After all, behind Frances, pressing into her back, was a dark carriage, kept close as a coffin by the jostling baggage. She knew, because she'd just come from its cloying grip. But, where some would find terror, she found comfort. A bottle too.
She thought about his 'offer.' What a man might need to check on in a baggage car... No, what a solider might need to check on in a baggage car was relatively limited. Some kind of ordnance? A bomb? A gun? The commotion on the train, several cars up, was lost on Frances, who'd been busy as people started disappearing. She could feel the soldier's intensity. His intention, maybe. She couldn't keep him out of the carriage. She couldn't hide from him or anyone else there. Dainty fingers closed around the door that separated the car they were in with the one held on behind them by an axle and some chains.
She should've been afraid of more than just a tarnished reputation. The soldier was a man. But, for all her well-hidden world-weariness, she did trust him. Somewhat. "Okay," she said, her curiosity getting the best of her. Frances opened the door, stood between the rocking cars, and opened the second door, that would take the pair of them into the baggage carriage. She turned fast enough, she hit him in the chest with her ponytail. That was all well and fine, until she finally did find herself unsteady in her saddle shoes. She stumbled into the dark.