There was a hint of surprise in his eyes when I said Five Points, but he rallied and nodded. “Of course.”
A carriage would get us in and out much faster—and we could be back before nighttime shrouded Five Points in darkness.
“Aye—but we must hurry. Five Points is no place for a nice carriage after dark.”
Ten minutes later, after insisting I borrow a cloak from Mrs. Hill’s dressing room, Mr. Paxton-Hill and I were in the family carriage on our way to my old neighborhood.
I sat across from him in the elegant vehicle, marveling at the details in the upholstery and the comfort of the conveyance.
“How has Aunt Maude treated you?” he asked me. “You look tired.”
“I was up all night sewin’ before I come.”
His eyebrows jumped. “You haven’t slept since I saw you last night outside the opera house?”
Shaking my head, I looked down at my rough hands. So much had happened since then.
“I’ll see that she lets you sleep in tomorrow.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Paxton-Hill.”
“Please,” he said, “call me Alec.”
I nodded, though I couldn’t imagine calling him by his given name.
“And may I call you Keira?”
I parted my lips to say yes—but then I remembered what Mrs. Hill had told me earlier. “Mrs. Hill has changed me name to Clara.”
Alec stared at me, his frown deepening. “Clara?”
I sensed his disappointment again—but was he disappointed in me or in Mrs. Hill?
“You’ll let her change your name?” he asked.
Something broke inside me—a dam I had not realized was being held back. Emotions surfaced that had been lying dormant my whole life, and somehow, I knew that this man would understand. That he was someone I could talk to—trust.
“I would let her change everythin’ about me if it meant I could have freedom from Five Points. Where I come from, me namemeans nothin’. If I can have a name that means somethin’—to someone—then I’ll gladly take whatever she offers me.”
He nodded as if properly chastised, but then he said, “Do not let her change everything about you . . . Keira.”
His gaze was so raw, so penetrating, I had to look away.
Soon, we were entering the Five Points neighborhood. People looked up at the carriage with surprise and suspicion.
My heart began to beat an erratic rhythm as we drew closer to Mulberry Street. I could smell it before I could see it.
And when Alec glanced out the window, I looked away from him, not wanting to see his reaction. Would he think less of me after seeing where I came from? Would he tell Mrs. Hill to cast me out? Surely he’d realize what a mistake she had made.
When the carriage finally came to a stop, I began to open the door, but Alec reached out and placed his hand on mine. There was undisguised shock in his face—but there was also empathy there, which was much different than pity, and it caught me unaware.
“Allow me,” he said.
His touch was soft and reassuring. Everything about this man was refined.
I moved back and allowed him to exit the carriage, apprehensive at what he must be thinking.
For a moment, he looked at the neighborhood—and I could see it all from his perspective.
