light of the flames momentarily turned her eye lenses a glaring red.
“Lord Hufferton commissioned Edinburgh’s famous surgeon, Joseph Lister, to attend to me and ensure my survival. My convalescence was long and agonising, and despite that my internal injuries healed and my bones knitted together, over the ensuing years, as I grew, my body warped out of shape, causing me incessant pain. Six months after my father’s passing, my mother died—I think of a broken heart—and Sir Philip made himself my legal guardian. He transferred his affections to me, leaving Rupert, with whom he’d always had a difficult relationship, out in the cold. Tutors were hired, my education began, and I immediately found that the process of acquiring knowledge distracted from my pain. I was thus extremely attentive and diligent in my studies, and made rapid progress in a great many subjects. Most of all—due, no doubt, to the environment in which I lived—I developed a love for engineering. Sir Philip was very supportive of this, despite my gender. He allowed me free use of his extensive library, and of the museum and workshops, and took care to involve me in every one of his projects. We constructed traction engines together. We invented a steam-powered cable car system. We drew up blueprints for armoured war machines that could travel over the land or through the air—machines so huge they will never be built. We even perfected the autocarriage by returning to, and improving upon, Thomas Rickett’s original three-wheeled design.”
“Lord Hufferton was obviously a very good man,” I observed.
“Yes, he was. His generosity extended to my social education as well. He allowed me to attend his famous annual bals masqués, and told the guests that treating me with respect was a condition of their attendance. Inevitably, there were examples of the vacuous variety of young aristocrat at the soirées, and when one such suggested that I should have costumed myself as Quasimodo from Victor Hugo’s Hunchback of Notre-Dame, Sir Philip flew into an uncharacteristic rage and threw the fellow out by the seat of his pants. That, however, was an exception. The majority of guests were very generous to me. Can you imagine it? Me, sitting discussing philosophy and politics and science with men whose faces were hidden behind Viennese masks? Men who were the luminaries of High Society? They were the people who’ve shaped this land and its culture, and I, a mere slip of a girl, spent many an engaging evening in their company. I learned a great deal from them—predominantly, how to think.”
“And from the vacuous ones, how not to,” I ventured.
“Precisely. I don’t mean to suggest that it was exclusively cerebral, though. The balls were marvellous fun, and Sir Philip always laid on a variety of entertainments, such as singers and acrobats and magicians. Such wonders! They were the happiest days of my life, Reverend.”
“What an extraordinary young woman you are, Miss Stark! I feel positively embarrassed that I offered you shirts to darn!”
She tut-tutted. “I can sew and look after a home just as well as the next woman. We made an agreement, Reverend Fleischer. You fed me. I will mend your clothes. I insist upon it.”
“It really isn’t necessary, but thank you. How came you, then, to such dire straits?”
“It’s very simple. Two years ago, Sir Philip suffered a seizure and died. Rupert became the new Lord Hufferton, inherited the estate, closed the museum, and threw me out onto the streets.”
“What? How could he do such a thing when it was he who caused your injuries? Has he no conscience?”
“What little guilt he may have harboured quickly turned to hatred. Perhaps he felt that he lost his father to me. Certainly, he always treated me with disdain and constantly mocked my appearance. Once, he encountered me in the grounds and snatched the goggles from my face, leaving me blinded and agonised by the sunlight.”
I shook my head despairingly. “‘The Lord is known by his justice; the wicked are ensnared by the work of their hands.’”
“From Psalm Nine, if I remember rightly,” she responded. “But judging by your earlier statement, should I take it that the sentiment comes not from your heart but from your head?”
“My intellect tells me it’s appropriate to suggest that Our Lord will cause your tormentor to learn the error of his ways, but, frankly, my heart doubts the truth of it.”
“Rupert is rich, influential, and living a very comfortable life, despite his bad reputation,” she responded. “While I’ve spent two years