The Velocipede Races by Emily June Street

Author:Emily June Street [Street, Emily June]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Microcosm Publishing
Published: 2016-01-11T08:00:00+00:00

It rained on Mercenday morning. I did my exercises in my bedroom and hurried down to have a cup of coffee before Maimie arrived for my fitting. Orson had not appeared yet, so I waited by the door to welcome the shopgirl, shifting my weight into my toes, glad no one could scold me for walking through the house barefoot.

Maimie arrived on time. I offered her coffee. “Oh, really?” she said, eyes wide. “I’ve never had it, but I’ve always wanted to try it.”

I led her to the breakfast room and served her a cup, all the while eyeing the large satchel she’d brought. “Are my things in there?” I asked.

“Oh, yes,” she said, grinning. “I think you’ll like ’em.”

“Bring your coffee,” I said. “Let’s go up to my room.” I led the way.

First Maimie fitted my new dresses. Very gingerly she pressed a single finger into my bare upper arm. “You’ve got muscles,” she said. “I wondered, when I measured you. It’s from the riding, isn’t it? The velocipede?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“The strength suits you, and I think it looks mighty fine with the mod-dress. You look like a modern woman. Fresh. Different.”

“Thank you.” Her compliments startled me. I’d never known another woman to like muscles before. “The mod-dresses feel wonderful,” I added as she pinned me into the second dress. “I can’t wait to wear them. I think I’ll order one more, in silk, for evenings. Can you do that?”

“Of course, ma’am. What color are you thinking?”

“You can call me Emmeline. And I’ll take whatever color is cheapest. I’m on a budget.”

Maimie glanced around my very fine bedchamber, a look of doubt on her face. “Your man keeps you on a budget yet he owns a place like this?” she said.

I frowned. “The amount he gives me would be generous if all I wanted to buy was dresses. But there’s the other, and I must do that in secret.” I lowered my voice. “I’m saving up to get a racing velo.”

Maimie’s eyes danced. “Oh, yes? And what will you do with that?”

I wriggled out of the pinned mod-dress. “I mean to race it in the Arena,” I announced, as much to myself as Maimie.

She stared at me. “How?”

“I really don’t know yet, Maimie. I just know I’ve got to try.”

Maimie leaned over the satchel and pulled out the items I’d been longing to see. “I know what you mean,” she mused. “I get like that about my clothes. I see what I want to make real clear in my head. I know it’s too daring, too risky, too unrestrained. But I just have to make it. And then, once I’ve made it, I have to wear it, propriety be damned.”

She held up a half-sewn pair of white leather breeches. “Now these, these are going to be something else. Breeches on a lady! I bet you it’s all that we’ll wear someday. Why, I’ve seen working girls who’ve split their dresses right up the middle and stitched ’em up to be like trousers.

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