The Queen and the Knave: A Proper Romance (Victorian Proper Romance) by Sarah M. Eden

Author:Sarah M. Eden [Eden, Sarah M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shadow Mountain Publishing
Published: 2023-09-04T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 15

There was an unofficial uniform for descending into London’s sewers. Going into the sewers without permission was illegal, yet those who did it regularly wore clothes that gave them away. It was either arrogance or necessity. She opted to believe the toshers knew they were about. She and Fitz donned clothes that matched those that’d be worn by the others traversing the great underground tunnels.

A long coat, greasy from years of use, with enormous pockets. Canvas trousers—Móirín wore hers under an old dress she wouldn’t mind burning after that night’s work. Shoes they’d obtained for next to nothing at an old clothes’ shop. A canvas apron. A dark lantern strapped to their front, just beneath the right shoulder. The shutters focused the light so it’d illuminate their path or the ground depending on how upright they were standing. A pole, longer than either of them was tall, with an iron hoe at one end.

It was an odd outfit, but somehow it didn’t render Fitz any less annoyingly handsome. Unfair of him, really, being so dimber and showing himself a devilishly good kisser.

He was more than just a constable—which had made him dangerous enough when they’d first met—he was now a detective assigned to find her, though he didn’t know it. Seeing the details of all she’d been accused of doing written so plainly on that paper under the name she’d used at the Guinness Factory had drained what little fight had been left in her the night before.

Then he’d kissed her, and she’d been wide awake the rest of the night, shifting from pleased with the memory and panicking with the misstep she’d made.

Soft hearts get broken. And tendres get distracting. She couldn’t afford either.

“Ready for a romp in a veritable Garden of Eden?” Móirín asked Fitz, adopting her teasingly annoyed tone.

“Always ready for a romp,” Fitz said with a very regal bow. “Milady.”

“As much as I like that, I think I’d prefer ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Your Majesty.’”

His smile tipped with mischief. “Oi, but I ain’t always good at doing what I’m told.”

“A bit of a knave, are you?”

“I aim to be far more than that.” He was pulling her interest in all the right ways, which was a shame, really. She couldn’t let things move in that direction.

“At the moment, I’d say you’re aiming to be a sewer explorer,” she said.

Fitz laughed and pulled a paper from one of the enormous pockets in his coat. “This is from Lanky Mack, our friendly tosher. He gave me detailed instructions.”

“If they’re half so detailed as his description of what we’re meant to wear, I’m surprised he managed it on one sheet of paper.” She eyed the pole and hoe. “What do you suppose this jigamaree is for?”

“Are you certain you want to know?”

“I’d thought it might be to dig valuables out of the muck,” Móirín said. “But the way you said that makes me think it’s somethin’ far worse.”

“Can be used for digging. But it’s far more useful for doing battle with the rats.

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