Free A Study In Scarlet Women by Sherry Thomas

no doubt about it: Lady Holmes was snoring.
    She reported her findings to Charlotte, who led her to a room at the back of the house. There Charlotte opened a window. “Moo as loudly as you can, please.”
    â€œWhat?” Livia was extraordinarily good at imitating animal sounds—a most useless talent for a lady except for entertaining her baby sister when they were little. She hadn’t mooed in years.
    â€œPlease. It’ll be a signal to Mott.”
    Mott was their groom and coachman—and gardener, too, when the family was in town.
    â€œBut why do you want to signal Mott?”
    â€œI’ll explain. But please hurry. It’ll be past his bedtime soon and I don’t want him to go to sleep thinking he’s no longer needed.”
    Livia wondered if she were roaring drunk. Or perhaps Charlotte was. The
moo
emerged with surprising vigor, if also plenty of unintended tremolo.
    She moaned. “I sound like the bovine version of a fishwife, toward the end of an argument.”
    â€œBut a victorious one,” said Charlotte.
    An unconvincing
baaa
came back from the mews. Charlotte nodded. “Mott’s heard us.”
    â€œNow will you tell me what’s going on?”
    â€œAll right,” said Charlotte, guiding Livia back to their room. “But you must promise not to say anything to anyone.”
    â€œI promise. What is it?”
    Charlotte shut the door and began to unbutton her dress. “I’m leaving.”
    â€œI know that.” Her suitcases had been packed for the rail journey on the morrow that would see her confined to the country for the foreseeable future. “I wish Mamma didn’t have such a bee in her bonnet about my staying put for the rest of the Season. To prove what point? I’d rather we be locked away in the country together.”
    â€œWe will neither of us be locked away in the country,” said Charlotte. “Mott is bringing round the carriage. He’ll take me to one of the bigger hotels near Trafalgar Square, where the clerks won’t find it so strange that an unaccompanied woman comes to ask for a room at this hour. Tomorrow I’ll find a place in a boardinghouse.”
    Livia shook her head. Was she hearing things? “You can’t be serious. You’re running away?”
    â€œI am not. I am of age. I am free to leave my parents’ home and set up my own establishment. It only appears as if I’m running away because I don’t want our parents interfering with my plans.”
    â€œMy God, you’re running away.”
    For the first time, Charlotte raised the glass of madeira Livia had poured for her hours ago, an odd little smile on her face. “All right, I’m running away. I prefer being on my own to being locked up in the country.”
    â€œBut Charlotte, how will you know where to find a boardinghouse? Or which ones are suitable for a lady?”
    â€œ
Work and Leisure
publishes a curated list from time to time—it’s amagazine aimed at women who work or are seeking employment. I’ve memorized the most recent list, since we only hire a house for the Season and I knew I must live in London year-round if I was to be educated here.”
    Of course Charlotte would have committed such a list to memory. But the discussion made Livia feel as if she were suspended high in the air by nothing more than embroidery threads: Neither she nor Charlotte knew anything firsthand about life outside the boundaries of their upbringing. “But—but you’ll have to pay to be lodged, won’t you?”
    â€œYes. I have a few pounds put away. But I also plan to find work.”
    â€œWhat kind of work? You’ve become notorious, Charlotte. You won’t ever become the headmistress of a school. You won’t even be able to work as a governess or a lady’s companion.”
    â€œTrue. But there are positions that do not require me to take charge of other