Chapter Three
The freezing wind climbed up her skirts, making Ariadne shiver as she walked down the empty street. It had rained an hour ago, filling the narrow alleys with filthy water and mud.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what Mrs. Tula had said. She wouldn’t actually make them leave, would she? The thought was grim but she knew the truth. Mrs. Tula would do anything to get her coins and her rent. She couldn’t care less where they went after.
Adriane had managed to earn a few coins after selling flowers at the square. She had tried to look for an apprenticeship at a workshop, but unfortunately, nobody wanted to take a woman in. They scoffed at the sight of her, mocking her before they showed her out the door. Ariadne rubbed the angry tears from her eyes. Why was this world so unjust? She was as good as any man.
She looked down at the few coins in her hand which she clutched tighter to herself. The meager amount would buy bread and a few vegetables. But what came next? And how would she ever pay the dreaded rent on time? It was only two days away.
The only way out of her predicament and an actual permanent solution was to finish up the design of the lamp and attempt to get the patent for it. But she already knew that it would be a long and hard road ahead. She had seen her father wither away, trying to chase recognition for his myriad of devices. He had died before the world could see what he was capable of. Ariadne vowed to herself that she would keep fighting, for her sister and her father both.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t notice the man lying by the side of the road. It wasn’t until he groaned that she finally took note of him and then dismissed it almost immediately. There were a few cheap pubs around here and it was no surprise to find at least one drunk man lying by the side of the road at the end of the night. Ariadne was used to such a sight and worse. Drunk men could be persistent.
She was about to walk past him when something snagged her by the ankle. Ariadne almost lost her footing at that, her heart hammering up to her chest as she attempted to dislodge herself from the grip.
“Please,” the voice groaned near her feet.
“Let me go,” she cried out and after struggling for a few moments, the man stopped moving, and his grip on her loosened. Ariadne ran away as fast she could. When she looked back, the man still appeared to be passed out.
Was he all right? He didn’t seem to be. He laid flat on the cold, wet ground naturally. And why was she bothering about him anyway? His friends would come to take him away later. And yet something about this didn’t feel right.
There was nobody else on the street. Ariadne found herself walking back to the man, despite herself. It was almost as if something was pulling her to him. She knelt beside him and touched his hand. His skin was gradually turning cold and he didn’t respond.
It was then, to her horror, that she noticed the blood pooling around him. Christ! She hadn’t noticed his wound at first under the dim light of the streets. She tried to turn him on his side but he was too heavy for her. His coat was missing but his breeches and undershirt along with his cravat made it evident to her that this was no unruly street urchin. This was a rich man—maybe even a Lord, and he had probably been robbed and left here.
Ariadne swallowed. She knew the danger of taking him to her house. He appeared to have been gravely injured. Would she be able to save him? And what if he died in her home? Ariadne considered the grim possibilities and she also knew that she couldn’t leave him her alone. It would haunt her for the rest of her life.
“Can you hear me, Sir?” she called out. No answer.
With all her might, she was able to turn him on his side. He was caked with mud and his clothes were soaked to the bone with water. She could barely even make out his features. The movement caused a fresh spurt of blood.
“No, no, no, no,” Adriana whispered to herself. The man groaned this time. She slapped him on his cheeks repeatedly, trying to bring him back to consciousness.
“Wake up,” she said. “Wake up.” To her astonishment, he listened to her. His eyes flew open and his amber eyes seemed to be transfixed on her for a few seconds before his eyes closed again. Ariadne froze under his gaze but quickly recovered herself. “You have to keep yourself awake. Please, I beg you.”
Ariadne bit her lip. Her father had taught her how to stitch up an injury but she was no expert. And she had only mended his tiny bruises and cuts, nothing like this. But if she was able to take him back to the house, she could find a way to help him.
She tried to help him sit but failed in the first few instances, lapping up mud on her skirts and hands instead. She dragged him away from the worst of mud and water, careful not to put pressure on his injury.
She kept talking to herself as she managed to finally pull him up, his hand around her shoulder and her hand around his waist. His hips settled beside her for support and her breasts crushed against his ribs as she supported him.
Ariadne had never been this close to a man before. She blushed at the thought. When they were upright, she almost buckled under his weight. Lord, he must have been at least a few stones heavier than her.
She panted as they pushed forward. Her flat was only a few minutes away but it seemed almost like an eternity as she dragged him through the streets. In the distance, thunder clapped across the sky, threatening a fresh spell of rain.
Ariadne gritted her teeth and carried on. The man’s head lolled sideways and ultimately rested upon her bosom. Ariadne swallowed her embarrassment and nudged his head back up to the crook of her shoulder. He wasn’t in his senses.
“You’re too heavy, Sir! If only you were in your senses, it won’t be a pretty sight at all.” Ariadne muttered to herself. “But I’ll let it go, just this once.”
It was becoming more difficult for her by the minute to carry him forward but just as weariness began to seep into her bones, she caught sight of her small building which was squeezed between a butcher’s shop and a leather factory.
Thanking gods above, Ariadne managed to push him under the shingles of the building just as the sky opened up again. Climbing the stairs to the flat proved to be of some more difficulty, but she managed by propping him in front of her as they climbed each agonizing step. By the time they reached the flat, she knew how many rickety steps there were to it.
Ariadne knocked on the door with some urgency, hoping Emma and Leda weren’t already asleep. The door flew open and an alarmed Leda rushed out. “Ariadne, where were you? We were worried sick.” And then her eyes fell to the figure cradled by Ariadne and she shrieked. “Who is he?”
“Shh. We don’t want Mrs. Tula to hear us.” The landlady would have her skin if she found out about the stranger. “I don’t know who he is. I found him on the streets.”
“And you brought him here?” she said. “Look at him. He’s a rich man. Everything about him says so. Even now people must be looking for him out there.”