Read Online Boots for the Gentleman by Augusta Li & Eon de Beaumont - Free Book Online
Authors: Augusta Li & Eon de Beaumont
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from his shoulder all the way to his ankle, and slept until late in the afternoon.
Chapter Four
“ W HERE are we going, Querry?” the doll asked. He wore the clothes the thief had acquired: a coal-colored newsboy’s cap, gray trousers, faded, cornflower shirt, and a checkered vest with a few patches on its satin back. Unfortunately, his springy curls poked from beneath the hat, almost touching his shoulders and eyebrows, and those few people who didn’t look twice at his beauty stole second glances at his strangeness.
“We’re going to see a friend of mine,” Querry answered. Upon waking, he’d felt a little shamed about what he’d done, touching himself in front of the doll, but the doll hadn’t mentioned it. It seemed unimportant now. “He works in that building, and he should be coming out soon. So, we’ll just sit on this bench and read the newspaper while we wait for him.”
They did so. Afternoon light gilded the royal and administrative buildings, and the pansies and primroses in their neat window boxes. Men in identical, dust-colored suits moved slowly from door to door, carrying books and papers. Now and then a carriage chugged by, spewing steam. Plenty of horse-drawn carriages clogged the streets at this time of day also. Two years ago, the University a few blocks up had begun to admit women, and a group of three such students walked past the men on their way back from class. They wore drab, simple dresses of olive and brown. One of them had even adopted the scandalous Colonial custom of wearing loose-fitting trousers beneath a too-short skirt. They spoke softly to each other, giggling and covering their mouths, stealing glances at Querry and the doll. The doll didn’t know not to smile and wave. This caused the students to redden and hurry away.
Querry lifted his section of paper up, shielding his face. Beside him, the doll sat with a leaf spread over his lap. He hoped Reg would be along soon; they were attracting too much attention. One gentleman in particular, a strawberry blond with blue eyes several shades lighter than Querry’s and clothing with a Continental flare, watched the pair intently from beneath a tree. Possibly his tastes ran similar to Querry’s own, and he observed them only out of appreciation. Any man interested in another man had to rely on subtle looks and signals to convey his intent, at least beyond Lickwhistle Circle. Possibly, though, this well-dressed fellow found them out of place and waited to alert the authorities. If a Royal Guard or city policeman ushered Querry back where he belonged, so be it, but it wouldn’t do for anyone to intuit the doll’s peculiar nature.
“Have you decided on a name for yourself?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Well, what about Jack?”
The doll curled his lip, as if tasting something sour, and shook his head.
“Patrick? George?”
“I don’t care for either of those,” the doll said. He was taking this matter very seriously.
Querry looked back at the paper. A large ad for a clothes-pressing machine took up most of the page. Also, a tailor in town would run a sale on ladies’ hats. Perusing the articles, Querry hadn’t yet seen mention of his exploits in the cellar of the doll maker’s house. “Percival?” he said idly. “Percy, that’s nice.”
But the paper on his thighs held all of the doll’s attention. He began to read aloud. “Early this morning, Lord Thimbleroy insisted upon an emergency assembly of the House. ‘Good sirs,’ he said, addressing his fellow nobles, ‘the time has come and then some that we must act to rid our fair and wholesome city of that nest of deceit and vice which has come to be referred to as Neroche.’
“He uses so many words,” the doll noted and then continued. “‘The inhabitants thereof, whom I might note should in no way be considered citizens, and should not be assumed to possess the rights insured to Her Majesty’s loyal subjects, are contributing quite rapidly to the
Chapter Four
“ W HERE are we going, Querry?” the doll asked. He wore the clothes the thief had acquired: a coal-colored newsboy’s cap, gray trousers, faded, cornflower shirt, and a checkered vest with a few patches on its satin back. Unfortunately, his springy curls poked from beneath the hat, almost touching his shoulders and eyebrows, and those few people who didn’t look twice at his beauty stole second glances at his strangeness.
“We’re going to see a friend of mine,” Querry answered. Upon waking, he’d felt a little shamed about what he’d done, touching himself in front of the doll, but the doll hadn’t mentioned it. It seemed unimportant now. “He works in that building, and he should be coming out soon. So, we’ll just sit on this bench and read the newspaper while we wait for him.”
They did so. Afternoon light gilded the royal and administrative buildings, and the pansies and primroses in their neat window boxes. Men in identical, dust-colored suits moved slowly from door to door, carrying books and papers. Now and then a carriage chugged by, spewing steam. Plenty of horse-drawn carriages clogged the streets at this time of day also. Two years ago, the University a few blocks up had begun to admit women, and a group of three such students walked past the men on their way back from class. They wore drab, simple dresses of olive and brown. One of them had even adopted the scandalous Colonial custom of wearing loose-fitting trousers beneath a too-short skirt. They spoke softly to each other, giggling and covering their mouths, stealing glances at Querry and the doll. The doll didn’t know not to smile and wave. This caused the students to redden and hurry away.
Querry lifted his section of paper up, shielding his face. Beside him, the doll sat with a leaf spread over his lap. He hoped Reg would be along soon; they were attracting too much attention. One gentleman in particular, a strawberry blond with blue eyes several shades lighter than Querry’s and clothing with a Continental flare, watched the pair intently from beneath a tree. Possibly his tastes ran similar to Querry’s own, and he observed them only out of appreciation. Any man interested in another man had to rely on subtle looks and signals to convey his intent, at least beyond Lickwhistle Circle. Possibly, though, this well-dressed fellow found them out of place and waited to alert the authorities. If a Royal Guard or city policeman ushered Querry back where he belonged, so be it, but it wouldn’t do for anyone to intuit the doll’s peculiar nature.
“Have you decided on a name for yourself?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Well, what about Jack?”
The doll curled his lip, as if tasting something sour, and shook his head.
“Patrick? George?”
“I don’t care for either of those,” the doll said. He was taking this matter very seriously.
Querry looked back at the paper. A large ad for a clothes-pressing machine took up most of the page. Also, a tailor in town would run a sale on ladies’ hats. Perusing the articles, Querry hadn’t yet seen mention of his exploits in the cellar of the doll maker’s house. “Percival?” he said idly. “Percy, that’s nice.”
But the paper on his thighs held all of the doll’s attention. He began to read aloud. “Early this morning, Lord Thimbleroy insisted upon an emergency assembly of the House. ‘Good sirs,’ he said, addressing his fellow nobles, ‘the time has come and then some that we must act to rid our fair and wholesome city of that nest of deceit and vice which has come to be referred to as Neroche.’
“He uses so many words,” the doll noted and then continued. “‘The inhabitants thereof, whom I might note should in no way be considered citizens, and should not be assumed to possess the rights insured to Her Majesty’s loyal subjects, are contributing quite rapidly to the
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