ribbons behind. She had some pearls and a few gold and ivory pins that might be sold if necessary. She had her quarterly allowance in a purse she pinned to her corset. It wasn't much, but it would keep her until she figured out what she could do. She hoped Daniel would reconsider and hire her back, but without her camera, he wouldn't have much use for her. Perhaps she could learn to make those sketches she had seen in city papers.
If nothing else, she could sew. Her much-heralded education had taught her that. If the Harrisons could survive by sewing, so could she.
Georgina waited until the house was quiet before leaving her note and slipping out to the small stable and carriage house her father kept. She was an expert horsewoman, but her father kept only carriage horses. She couldn't have saddled them if she had tried. But the friendly pony of her childhood was still here, growing fat and sassy for lack of exercise. She had been able to saddle him since she was a child.
He whickered willingly when she fed him sugar she'd stolen from the kitchen. He wasn't quite as happy when she saddled him and tied her satchel on; he was even less so when Georgina mounted. But he was too old to learn new tricks, and he trotted out of the barn obediently when she applied her heels.
The thunder that had threatened earlier was directly overhead now, and the heat lightning had become something a little more forceful. Georgina jumped nervously as it flashed on the other side of the city and the thunder cracked and rolled. But the rain held off, and for that, she was grateful.
She didn't know if she would be able to keep the pony. Feeding it might be too expensive, but she had worn her heavy riding skirt anyway. She wouldn't have a carriage to get around in any longer, and she would need something practical to maneuver the streets. A riding skirt afforded a considerable amount of freedom.
And Georgina felt remarkably free as she rode through silent, empty streets. A cool wind blew in with the storm, and even the air wasn't hampered by the heavy humidity any longer. She felt light and unburdened and wildly happy for the moment. She would have no one but herself to account to now. It was exciting and scary and exhilarating beyond anything she had ever known.
Of course, the closer she came to her destination, the more she worried. She ought to be worrying about the dark alleys and furtive shadows and the rain that started to drop in great splattering plods in the dust and against her coat. But she was more concerned about the scene that would surely unfold once her father found her gone and read her note. It wasn't going to be pleasant, and she was involving an innocent man.
But she was quite certain Daniel could handle anything. He was an odd man with many facets who revealed little of himself, but from what little she had seen, he knew how to take care of himself. If she hadn't seen him bring down a man twice his size with his bare hands—or feet, as the case might be—and watched him terrify two bullies with a fancy display of gunfire, she might have thought twice about this. He didn't seem the sort to actively defend anyone or anything. With his mild manners and spectacles and limp, he seemed more the type to hide behind books than to lash out at evildoers. He certainly wasn't the kind of white knight a girl dreamed about. But he would do.
It wasn't as if she was asking him to look after her for the rest of her life. She was perfectly content to do that herself. She just needed someone to ruin her long enough to get away from Peter and her family. Someone like Daniel ought to be perfectly adequate for that, and his reputation wouldn't suffer any for it, either.
The rain hit as she turned down the street leading to Daniel's office. In just the time it took to hitch her horse to a post, Georgina was drenched. Under the influence of her newfound freedom, she didn't care. There was no one here to complain or scold if she wished to stay out and play in the rain. She could drip across the floors with impunity. It was her skirt and her life and no one had any right to