Hearing the words out loud was only made more abhorrent by the glee in Charlotte’s voice. The obnoxiously-forward woman had guessed the reason behind Valentina’s search for a husband.
Valentina gritted her teeth and took both her hand and glove back. “Not for financial mismanagement, if that’s what you’re trying to imply.” She put her hand back into the glove rather more forcefully than she meant to and hoped that her wince of discomfort wasn’t obvious. She wanted to show no weakness to this woman.
“What, then?” Charlotte demanded. “Why would you give up your independence to tie yourself to a man’s will?”
To her own surprise, driven by pain and frustration, Valentina admitted, “Because a man’s will is that an unwed woman should not own a business of commerce.”
“What kind of archaic nonsense is that?” Charlotte asked, sounding outraged. Probably she wasn’t incensed on Valentina’s behalf, but only at the misogyny of the system.
They were standing near one of the cityship crossroads, with wide empty stairs to other decks in every direction. Closed businesses were dark at each corner. Valentina caught their reflection in one of the windows; two women, well-dressed, speaking earnestly. They were both bleached to sepia in the flickering lamps, like an old photograph of two intimate friends. Only Charlotte’s hat looked out of place, and her sword.
“It’s an old law,” Valentina said, recovering her calm. “But one that hasn’t been invalidated yet, and I have…rivals who are seeking to use it to unseat me.”
Her instincts shrieked to stop talking, to stop sharing. This woman was her nemesis, her competitor for a prize she had carefully selected. Even if that prize sometimes felt like a shackle in exchange for her freedom.
“Why don’t you fight it?” Charlotte asked, looking like she might take someone on with her bare fists.
Valentina found her wrath endearing, but she had already all but exhausted her own indignation, and settled into...settling. “Should I bring a sword into the legal chambers, then? Or perhaps study to become a legate myself and battle them in court? Start a petition to some higher authority that has no interest in a mere tradeswoman, no matter how cunning her hats? It seems the swifter path is to take an inoffensive husband and get on with my life. I’ve been married before. It was not that much of a hardship.”
“Did you never think that you would marry for love, or passion?”
Charlotte’s voice was like the whiskey she drank, dark and full of smoke and empty promises.
But Valentina didn’t drink strong spirits or ride fast horses or pursue passions. “I am a practical woman.”
And practical women made logical decisions, she reminded herself. She wished she had worn a different hat, or no hat at all, because she had all of Charlotte’s unsettling attention and that was even worse than the Inspector’s unwelcome regard.
“My house is this way.” They walked again in silence at Valentina’s direction.
“Do you think that Lord Jamison is truly in danger?” Charlotte asked after a time.
Valentina frowned as she realized that she hadn’t thought about him at all since they had left him for his evening drink. “It seems to me he may be,” she said. “You say it went straight for him.”
“Could it be a ghost?” Charlotte sounded more intrigued than afraid.
“Possibly.” Valentina’s work in magic had led her to research many adjacent topics, but the recently dead had never been a particular interest.
“Didn’t Lady Jamison die in a horse-related accident about a year ago? Perhaps the family has an enemy? I don’t imagine you get to the parliament without collecting a few rivals.”
“That may be worth investigating,” Valentina said vaguely. She had, in fact, read everything she could find regarding the death of Lady Jamison, in her research on her widowed husband. The lady had indeed been trampled by a horse in what had been called a tragic accident, but Valentina was trying to play her cards closer to her chest after her blunder of a confession.
“Well, a dead husband does neither of us any good,” Charlotte pointed out. “I shall visit the library first thing tomorrow. I understand they have it well-stocked with archives of periodicals.”
“It is an admirable collection for a cityship of this size,” Valentina said conversationally. “Perhaps I will see you there in the morning.”
At her door, they stopped. “Thank you for the escort,” Valentina said politely. “It was kind of you.”
“Why do you pretend that you are weaker than you are?” Charlotte asked piercingly.
“Why do you pretend that you are stronger than you are?” Valentina countered.
Charlotte had no swift answer for that, but after a moment, she shrugged carelessly. “We all wear all manner of hats...for other people.” She touched the brim of her silk men’s hat and gave a polite nod. Valentina returned the nod and went into her house without looking back.