Magnificent Devices 01 - Lady of Devices

Julia and her friends were handed inside.
    “Gorse, please, may I—”
    “No, miss. The Viscount would have my head were I to allow you to drive this beast in front of those ladies.”
    What a triumph it would be! “But Gorse—”
    “Miss, do not press me, I beg you.”
    Only consideration for his feelings kept her silent until they were around the corner and halfway down an alley more suited to the collection of trash than the driving of the latest in engines. “Now may I, Gorse?”
    “Yes, miss. Remember what I told you about releasing the brake. She’ll leap ahead because she’s been parked and had a chance to build a bit of a head up.”
    Claire stepped out without assistance and collected her canvas driving coat from under the folding seat in the rear. Dear Gorse. He insisted on referring to the landau as she , as though it were an elegantly built horse made of brass, iron, and glass. But then, people referred to airships as she , did they not? The steam landau did have a mind of her own, like a woman of independent thought, that was certain.
    She settled into the driving seat as he climbed in on her left. “Gorse, it’s a lovely day. We must have the top down.”
    “Of course, miss.”
    She braced both feet on the floor and grasped the lever on the side of her seat. As she leaned her weight on it and drew it back, the articulated top of the landau ratcheted back with the whispering sound of a train pulling into a station. It folded itself into a slot behind them like a golden metal fan, and she and Gorse let the glass windows down.
    Ahhhhh. Freedom and the wind in her face.
    “Mind what I said about the brake, miss. And don’t forget these.” He handed her a set of driving goggles with a tilt-down telescopic lens to see at greater distance should she need to.
    “I remember.” It was the work of a moment to remove her broad-brimmed hat and slip the goggles over her eyes to protect them not only from the fug of London’s coal fires, but from the very wind of their going. Hat once more in place, she released the brake and the needles on the gauges jumped. Working the brake and the acceleration pedals simultaneously, she controlled the landau’s urge to surge ahead until it worked off its head of steam, bowling smartly down the alley and using the horizontal steering lever to turn the corner onto Curzon Street as smoothly as if she hadn’t learned to make turns just two weeks ago.
    “Well done, miss. Mind that covered conveyance, there. He’s stopping.”
    “I see him.” She steered around the enormous lorry filled with lengths of wood for the hotel being constructed on the corner. A cacophony of sound rose around her, from the hammers of the carpenters to the shouts of drivers warning off other people’s horses, to the ting of a bell on a shop door opening as they passed.
    Their progress slowed to the point that a gaggle of ragamuffins was able to surround the landau and jog alongside it. “Please, miss, have you a halfpenny to spare? Please, miss, we’re hungry.”
    Gorse’s jaw set. “Shove off, you lot,” he snapped. “Get your grubby paws off this engine!”
    To her horror, Claire saw that two of the filthy children were girls of not more than ten. Had they parents? Anyone to look after them? She applied the brake and the landau slowed even further. Digging in the bottom of her school bag, she located a few pence and tossed them to the girls. With shrieks of delight, the little crowd vanished into the warren of alleys behind the construction site.
    “Begging your pardon, miss, but you should not encourage beggars.” Gorse gazed in the direction they had taken. “It only encourages them to steal from you.”
    “I gave those pennies voluntarily.” She applied steam to the accelerator and they resumed their pace. “And they did look very thin.”
    Gorse was far too polite to argue with her, even if he was probably right. Didn’t the Good Book say that if a person gave a cup of cold water to someone in need, it was the same as giving it to our Lord? She wanted for nothing ... well, nothing of a material kind, at least. Those pennies rolling around in the bottom of her bag would make themselves useful in filling a hungry stomach.
    Claire kept a wary eye on the broad avenue in front of her. Large intersections such as the one at Park Lane still intimidated her just a trifle, but with Gorse’s patient coaching, they had become easier, especially as she learned to look for