Timekeeper by Heather Albano

Author:Heather Albano
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Steampunk, Historical Fantasy, Regency Romance, Alternative History
Publisher: PublishDrive
Published: 2017-06-18T00:00:00+00:00

Interlude

Carmonton, Wales, November 18, 1882

Brenda Evans knew better than to be out by herself after dark on the road between Cardiff and the mines, but one unlucky chance after another had befallen her, and so here she was, a good hour from home yet and the shadows slanting hard toward evening. She thought about turning back, deferring her journey until morning—but she did not personally know anyone who ran a boarding house in Cardiff, and badly choosing her night’s accommodation could be as hazardous to her safety as being waylaid on the road. Then there was the expense, and her father would worry. She looked at the sky. Surely she could make it home before full dark. Surely the road could not be so dangerous. She tightened her grip on the reins.

If only her father’s chest cold had not laid him low for a solid month, she might have made this journey in October, when the days stretched longer. If only the prices in the miners’ store were anything like reasonable, or the selection anything like practical, she might have deferred the journey altogether. But though she could make do with the Bureau store for everyday, she relied upon the annual Cardiff trip for winter necessities, and with her father out three weeks’ wages and doctor’s bills to pay besides, it was even more needful she pinch francs where she could. Not that Dr. Cadwallader cheated them—quite the contrary; he was neighborly enough; it was his trap she was driving—but he had to live as well as anyone else.

If only she had gotten an earlier start this morning. If only the doctor had not been called out on a case, so that he might have accompanied her as he had first suggested. If only she had managed to find all she needed more quickly— Brenda sighed. “If onlies” did no one any good. Here she was. At least if she was waylaid, there was plenty in the cart other than herself to tempt a man—which was a comfort as cold as the nipping fall air, but better than no comfort at all.

It could easily be so much worse, she knew that. She and her father were, in fact, among the more comfortable residents of Carmonton. There was his pay from the mines, and her pittance from teaching, and only the two of them to feed, so they could put by a bit now and then. Without that savings, and without her teacher’s salary, his long illness might have been a disaster rather than merely a trial. A decade ago, it would have been impossible for her to contribute to the household income unless she went to work in the mines herself, but the recent reforms—prompted in part by that horridly condescending young Frenchman—meant that it was no longer lawful to employ small children in the mines. The government Mining Bureau must arrange schooling for the miners’ children instead, and must therefore employ an instructor, and so here she was, Miss Evans, the old maid schoolteacher who also kept house for her father.

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