Victorian Nocturne

The day began in a dreary fashion. It was rainy and warm, and the air like a soggy blanket, but by afternoon, gusts of wind pushed back the clouds. Sunlight evaporated the larger puddles around Sussex Square. Carriages rattled on the cobblestone and splattered people's skirts and trousers as they left their homes and ran errands at the shops.

Elspeth Fry rode in a brougham carriage, her nose hovering near the window as the wheels took them up Stanhope Street, near the boutique where she purchased fragrance from Berdette Daugney. The gift had been begrudgingly received by her sister-in-law, but was wildly popular amongst her friends, a few of whom had complimented Ms. Fry on her tastes and asked after the shopkeeper who kept it in stock. She hoped to drop off a hand-written note of thanks to the proprietress.

As the carriage rolled past her destination, she let out an exasperated grunt. "Good lord, has he fallen asleep?" Leaning forward, she rapped to get the driver's attention. "I beg your pardon, but we seem to have gone past it! Sir!" She half-lifted off her seat and struck the carriage wall with the flat of her hand. The driver brought the horses to a rough stop and Elspeth caught herself on the backward-facing bench. Through the little viewing hole, she gave his back her most severe glare. She waited for him to dismount and open her door.

Out on the street, she thanked him and sorted through her purse, looking for the square of stationary paper. "Please return for me in an hour," she said. The driver closed the door, climbed onto his bench, and set the horses moving. Unfortunately, Elspeth's skirt was trapped in the door, a fact she did not realize until she felt a backwards tug.

( Stop the Carriage! )

( A Proper Escort )