Penny Walters sat in front of the chipped and cracked mirror attempting to assess if the style of her hair was at all pleasing. Styling herself had never been her strong suit. Even in the speckled reflection, she noted several stray curls sticking up at odd angles. She wrinkled her nose as she lifted her hands to her hair once again.
“It looks dreadful,” a young voice called from the door.
She let out a long sigh, sliding out a pin. “I was afraid of that.”
Her friend and companion, Clarissa, slid into the room, her bare feet sliding across the worn wood. Penny had bought her new shoes, but the girl would only wear them outside the house. Penny supposed Clarissa wasn’t actually a girl anymore. At eighteen she was nearly a woman, but she was slight and small, and she padded barefoot as much as she wore footwear. She seemed so much younger than Penny even though only four years separated them.
“How long before you leave?” Clarissa asked, already pulling the rest of the pins from Penny’s brown hair. It was thick and full with long waves that made it terribly unruly.
“A quarter hour,” Penny answered, smiling at Clarissa in the glass. Her appointment wasn’t for two hours yet, but she needed time to cross the city.
Clarissa nodded without response as she brusquely brushed out the locks. The girl had been the daughter of a country barrister before she’d been orphaned. Penny had found her at a church on her return trip from Dover six years prior. She’d been hoping to obtain a position as a governess but the family had gone with another candidate.
Directionless, Penny had been returning to London, wondering what she might do with the rest of her life. And that’s when she’d found a young Clarissa. Barely old enough to care for herself, Penny hadn’t been able to leave the fierce girl behind. The priest there had been attempting to convince Clarissa to join the nearby convent. An honest choice but as Clarissa was regularly blasphemous, it likely would have been an ill fit.
Now she couldn’t imagine her life without her friend. Clarissa began to re-pin the hair, pins sticking out of her mouth, even as she talked. “I don’t understand why you didn’t just ask me to do it in the first place.”
“You were helping Natty and Fran,” Penny answered, her grin growing. With a few benefactors, and a small inheritance, Penny had been able to maintain her family home just outside of the Docklands and convert it to a small orphanage. The East End reeked of the tanning mills just outside the city and the paint was chipped and worn but it was all they could afford. All in all, she had four girls living with her. Ones that society would have swept under the carpet and looked away from as the mean streets ate them for breakfast.
They’d been orphaned for one reason or another and she’d determined to give each of them a real home. With food and clothes, love and shoes…
“May I ask why you ar
en’t wearing the new boots I bought you?” She suppressed a grin as Clarissa wrinkled her nose.
“You know I don’t like anything on my feet.” Clarissa pulled a good deal harder than was necessary as she tamed an unruly lock of hair.
“Do they not fit?” Penny raised her brows refusing to give up the subject. She loved Clarissa like a sister which was why she needed to start wearing coverings on her feet. One could not go out and get a job or a husband while barefoot. Penny had rescued Clarissa to give her choices in life. Not to hide her away in this house.
“They fit fine,” Clarissa sighed as she twisted once more. “After spending two years in shoes that were too small, I can’t abide them any longer.”
Penny grimaced, her smile falling from her face. Clarissa’s father had lost every shilling the family had on a bad investment. He’d taken his own life and left Clarissa to face the world alone. “I’m sorry I couldn’t buy new ones for you sooner.”
“Don’t be.” Clarissa shook her head, a small jerk before she wrapped her arm about Penny’s shoulders in a quick hug. The gesture was given so rarely that Penny blinked in surprise. “Natty, Fran, and Ethel needed food and books before I needed new shoes. You did what was right.”
Penny sighed again, a much smaller sound as her head hung low in momentary defeat. It was difficult to find benefactors. Despite the opulence that graced the West End streets of London, here on the East End that sort of generosity was in short supply.
“So why are you meeting this new man?”
Penny gripped the table as Clarissa pulled again. She’d hoped that the Duke of Darlington would aid in her cause. This three-bedroom house fit the six of them, but she could hardly bring more children here. She needed a bigger space, more staff, and supplies for schooling if she really wanted to make a difference. “His Grace regretted to inform me that he could not personally contribute but that he had a friend that might be able to help.”
Clarissa made a pishing sound as she pinned in the final curl. “So you’re going to meet a man you don’t know at all, and have no introduction to, alone?”
Penny’s teeth clenched. “I have an introduction.” She paused, seeing Clarissa’s eyes harden in the mirror. “I don’t have a choice.” The truth was, not only did she need a benefactor to move them up in the world, they were dangerously low on funds. Acid spread in her stomach. She needed this man to agree to help her just so that they might continue to eat, and the children needed coats and…
“I could come with you.” Clarissa stepped back, assessing her work. “Much better.”
Penny looked in the mirror, noting that neat coif coiled in twists at her nape. Only a few pieces floated around her face to soften her features, accentuating her high cheekbones. “My hair is much better and thank you, but no. You should stay here. Natty and Fran need you.”
Clarissa frowned. “We could all go. Wait in the carriage.”
Penny looked down at the floor. She didn’t plan to take a carriage. The address the duke had given her was on the west side, of course, but she’d walk. A hack would take valuable shillings they didn’t have. Inside, she sighed again but she didn’t allow Clarissa to hear her this time. Life was often difficult these days. And Clarissa was too young to help her bear that burden. “I’ll be fine, Clarissa. Keep working with the girls on their letters. And put on your shoes.”
“Why?” Clarissa sniffed, turning back toward the door.
“I’ve told you why. You need them to move on from us and live your life and—”
Clarissa wrinkled her nose. “I already have a job and a life. I educate the little ones. And I’m not getting married. You need me too much.”