She almost heard her father speaking at her ears. “Patience, dearie.” Ariadne looked around herself and then back at the table as determination filled her. Patience.
Her hands were covered with grease which had smudged all over her dress and probably her hair too. She cleaned her hands on the handkerchief next to her but her fingers still felt sticky.
Even though it was completely dark inside the room, it was only by design. Dawn had probably broken outside and if Ariadne had managed to sleep in, it was probably far into the morning. George Davy had built this small space himself on an abandoned lot to accommodate the rectangular, darkroom. It was the sanctum of his inventions.
She walked out of the space where she had been spending most of her waking hours. Ariadne shielded her eyes against the sudden brightness. It was in stark contrast to the darkness she had just emerged from and she didn’t think she would ever get used to it. She put on her bonnet even though her hair was a mess and locked the studio door. She then crossed the street and walked a few paces ahead to the building where she lived. The few people out and about on the streets threw her weird glances as she passed, but Ariadne ignored them. She knew what they thought of her,Mad Davy’s daughter.
The smell of eggs cooking greeted her as soon as she stepped into her own flat. It was a two-room space, with a small kitchen attached, but also it was her entire world.
“And finally we see her face,” Leda said, rushing to her with worry on her face. “You’re going to make yourself ill if you push yourself too hard.”
“Were you there all night?” This was Emma. She was at the small stove, cooking. She looked up as Ariadne entered the kitchen.
Ariadne rubbed her eyes and yawned in answer. “I got caught up.”
“You’ve been saying the same thing every day for the last couple of weeks,” Leda pointed out. Leda was Ariadne’s younger sister. At eighteen, she was five years younger than Ariadne and while Ariadne was plain in looks, Leda had grown up to be a beauty.
Ariadne washed her hands in the basin and took a seat next to her on the kitchen table. It was rickety and shook slightly as she sat down even though she had just fixed the legs last week.
“We’re out of eggs,” Emma said as she placed their breakfast in front of them. She took the one next to Leda. The last one remained empty. It was her father’s chair, whenever he actually remembered to come to the table to eat. “Can you buy some from the market?”
“Sure,” Ariadne said. Her stomach churned. Her repository of coins was all but empty.
“Even last month’s rent is due,” Emma sighed. “And you know how Mrs. Tula can get about it.”
“I know,” Ariadne said. Neither Emma nor Leda complained but after her father’s death, as his eldest daughter, it had fallen upon her to provide for them.
Guilt began to gnaw at her. Ariadne cast her eyes to her plate knowing that she couldn’t dwindle anymore. She had to act fast.
Emma shot her a sympathetic look. “It's all right, dear. We’ll figure out something soon.” Emma had come to live with them a few years after her mother had passed away. She was a lodger in their small home so that it was easier for them to divide the rent between them.
Leda sighed. “I just wish Pa had left a little more for us.” They had all but used up their father’s small savings. He was the second son of the Earl of Jenson and while he hadn’t lived with his family for a long time, their grandmother had, until her death sent a small amount of money for them to get by. With that they had managed to live a comfortable life so far, even having the privilege to stay in a home that hadn’t fallen to rot yet. But ever since their grandmother died, the funds had stopped coming in.
“Maybe we can ask our uncle?” Leda asked suddenly. “He could help us.”
She meant the current Earl of Jenson, their uncle Matthew. Ariadne shook her head. “They don’t consider us family. We don’t exist to them. Not after—” It was an understatement. They hated the very existence of the two sisters and refused to acknowledge them.
“There’s no harm in asking,” Leda said reluctantly.
Ariadne shook her head. She wasn’t going to sacrifice everything Pa had built by going to beg from the brother who had been a part of casting his own brother out of High Society. It would be nothing but disrespect to her father’s spirit.
“Papa wouldn’t want us to go against our principles. Everything else was taken away from him, so pride was all he had left!” Ariadne exclaimed.
“Papa wouldn’t want us to starve either,” Leda said. Her younger sister was right. She looked up at Ariadne, carefully watching her face. When had she grown up so fast? She was of marriageable age and if things between her father and his family hadn’t fallen apart, she would have made her debut this year. The thought made Ariadne’s heart pang. Her sister deserved better things.
Ariadne, of course, had no intention of marrying ever. They already thought her queer for following her father’s footsteps. The last thing she needed was for a man to control her life. Her father was the only one who could see through her anyway. No, she would lead her life by her own terms just fine.
She quickly finished her meal and got up from her seat. “Leda, please fetch my bonnet from my room.”
“Where are you going?” Leda asked. But she did as Ariadne asked and disappeared into the room the two girls shared.
Ariadne looked toward the hearth. The dying fireplace barely cast out any heat and Adriane found herself shivering despite the fact that the sun was out outside. It would be worse at night.
“I’m going to out to earn some coin,” Ariadne said decidedly. She knew it was easier said than done but she had never cowed in front of adversity. She wouldn’t bow to her fate now. She would start small, a few coins at first. Her invention would have to take a backseat for now, to be worked on only at night.
Emma stood up from her chair. “You’re educated and are well groomed even if you lack the sponsorship and the disposition the society requires. You can easily take up the position of a governess if you so wish.”
The thought of going to work for a rich Lord had occurred to her several times. But her father had taught her to be self-sufficient, and it was only the thought of him that stopped her from doing so.