Steampunk Carnival (Steam World Book 1) (11 page)

Every time Katya saw Agna Lieber – riding in the carriage or working at the carnival – she remembered Mr. Lieber’s violent argument with Mr. Davies.

Mr. Davies never spoke to Agna in any special way. He greeted her stiffly, as if he, along with everyone else, knew Agna primarily by the way she had come to work at the carnival. She was a struggling widow first and a fellow worker second. Katya listened closely to Mr. Davies’ scant words, trying to discern the least amount of secret desire or hidden feeling. She could never find any, but she knew it could be due to a certain cleverness or great respect for Agna’s mourning on Mr. Davies’ part.

Katya could picture the scenario either way. Perhaps Mr. Davies’ eyes had only fallen on Agna a single time, and Mr. Lieber had taken his protectiveness to the extreme. Katya liked the other path better, a story she wove to be larger than life. Poor Mr. Davies, unmarried and childless, pined for Agna from the driver’s seat of his carriage. He rarely dared to sneak glances at her, much less speak to her, and the only time he let his eyes linger too long, Mr. Lieber’s jealous temper wrung him out for it. Poor Mr. Davies, with his lonely job of driving four women who shared the good fortune of having each other’s company for support and conversation. He had only the horse to mutter to in the sparsely populated hours of the early morning.

Katya spun wild tales as she rode in the carriage or waited for carnival patrons to approach with a need. Mr. Davies would break from his normally mundane routine and reassuring manners. He would drive off with Agna into the night instead of escorting her home. The horse’s sprinting speed would frighten her, but Mr. Davies’ presence would comfort her. At last the carriage would stop, and Mr. Davies would fling himself down from the driver’s chair. Agna would climb down to meet him, only farmers’ fields surrounding them now. Her eyes would water with a rise of affection she had barely acknowledged when her husband lived. She would throw her arms around Mr. Davies, and he would kiss her with unrivaled passion. He would press her back against the side of the carriage, reaching for the buttons on the front of her jacket...

“Do you know what contest is being held tomorrow?”

A man’s harsh German accent splintered Katya’s fantasy. It could hardly be mistaken for Mr. Davies’ lyrical, rustic English speech.

Katya blinked at a young blond couple watching her expectantly. Two small, pale-haired boys stood at their sides. Katya tried to remember what Mr. Warden had told her. “I believe it’s a dancing contest. It starts over every hour. The best couple in each group wins a five-dollar certificate to Montani and Company grocers.”

The young woman turned to her husband, her eyebrows raised as she nodded at him. The young man tipped his hat to Katya.

“You’re welcome,” Katya gushed. “Enjoy the carnival. Make sure you get some snacks for the children.”

The family walked away, and Katya returned to her tales of Agna and Mr. Davies. She passed the rest of the night uneventfully, and once she had helped the two men in the ticket booth chase down loose tickets blowing away across the grass, Katya set her sights squarely on Mr. Davies. She left the band to fold up their own music stands and strolled over to the gate as soon as the carriage pulled up.

Mr. Davies tipped his hat as Katya approached him. “Good morning, Miss Romanova. Are you early, or am I late?”

“I’m early, Mr. Davies. I wanted to ask you something, but I’ll warn you. I’m sure it’s none of my business.”

Mr. Davies tilted his head, waiting.

“Do you mind if I climb up and talk to you?”

“Not at all.”

Katya stepped up into the driver’s seat and settled in next to Mr. Davies. He set his horse whip aside.

Katya cringed to see the tool up close. “I’m sure you remember the night Mr. Lieber used your whip against the horse.”

Mr. Davies’ back stiffened. “You saw that. Yes, I remember.”

“I heard you arguing about a woman.” Katya paused to see if Mr. Davies caught on to what she was saying. “Now that I know Mr. Lieber was married, I wondered if you weren’t arguing about Agna.”

“In a way,” Mr. Davies replied. “No argument with Mr. Lieber was ever about anything but power and his need to control everything.”

“He accused you of being interested in his wife.”

“I remember.”

Katya paused again, on the verge of truth after so many of her own detailed versions of it. “I wanted to ask you if you were. Are you interested in Agna?”

Mr. Davies chuckled. “I wouldn’t have imagined you for a busybody, Miss Romanova.”

“I try not to be. I only wondered because you and Mr. Lieber were having such a terrific argument. I wondered if there was any shred of truth to what he said. And I also wanted to ask because she works here now. You see her twice a day. I thought if you did like her, it might be torture for you.”

“No, I was never interested in Mrs. Lieber. She deserved better, but everyone knows that. I believe I ran into them a few times around the city. At a restaurant or a park. I might have looked at her in passing before I realized whom she was with. I was always keen to avoid Mr. Lieber, as I’m sure you can appreciate.”

“Yes. I’m sorry if I offended you.” Katya glanced away through the open gates of the carnival.

The band members moseyed past, wiping sweat off their foreheads as they traded jokes and observations about the night. They turned and followed the sidewalk toward the streetcar stop.

Katya waited until most of them walked past the carriage to continue her conversation with Mr. Davies. “I’m not trying to meddle,” she explained. “You’re just one of the few people here who treats me with an ounce of respect. To most of them, even Irina, I’m a lazy whore and nothing more.”

Mr. Davies said nothing.

Katya thought back to her infamous interview with Mr. Warden. She could have walked away from his office and the promise of a job at the carnival, her reputation still intact. Sitting in the driver’s seat of the carnival carriage, Katya knew she would make the same decision again. “It’s my own fault, I suppose,” she said.

Mr. Davies’ voice rose to life. “You’re much more, Miss Romanova. Although my dealings with Mrs. Irina Solomon have been few and brief, I would say you’re the more caring of the two. You’re more interested in the world around you.”

Katya did not feel any better. “Let me know when caring and paying attention amount to anything.”

“They do. It might not seem like it, but they do.”

“Did you ever meet a woman you wanted to marry, Mr. Davies?”

Mr. Davies shifted uncomfortably. “Of course. Most men have.”

“Did she live here or back home in Cornwall?”

“Cornwall, but that was a long time ago.”

Katya let the subject rest. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Davies.” She turned to step down from the driver’s seat.

“Miss Romanova, I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate you coming to talk to me,” Mr. Davies said.

Katya turned back to him and remained beside him.

“I have such a small connection to the carnival. I rarely speak to anyone who works here except for you and Mr. Warden to pick up my salary.”

“I didn’t know our conversations meant that much to you.”

“Let me be honest. Not everyone here is welcoming, and I’m not just talking about Mr. Lieber.”

Katya understood completely. Heinz was often short with her. The English cook barely acknowledged her. Before she had gotten to know Brady, she would have counted him as standoffish or worse. Mr. Warden’s security seemed downright creepy. “Why do you want to be a bigger part of the carnival? It must be nice to serve the city in some other capacity.”

“The carnival’s the best opportunity in the city. Between the railroad strikes and long hours at the factories, the carnival is anybody’s best choice. It’s not going anywhere.”

“That’s true, but look what happened to the other charwoman we had. Agna cried to Mr. Warden, which is understandable, but within days, that other woman was out of a job. The carnival’s secure, but Mr. Warden’s impossible to predict.”

“That’s true. Do you worry about your job?”

“No. Mr. Warden could replace me, but I know he’d rather spend his time making money than finding new staff.”

“At least someone around here knows something about him. He’s a bit of a mystery, isn’t he?”

“Indeed.” Katya realized that knowing Mr. Warden’s criminal past still told her very little about him. She did not know where he came from or how long he intended to run the carnival himself. He must not anticipate being caught, or he would have left the city months ago.

The maintenance crew ambled through the gates, laughing as one voice. They noticed Katya up in the driver’s seat and tipped their hats on cue. They muted their amusement as men always did when they shared jokes not meant for mixed company.

“Good evening,” Katya greeted them stiffly. She did not mind the band members seeing her talking to Mr. Davies, but she did not feel comfortable having a group of rowdy workmen finding her there.

Maddox filed past at the end of the line. He tipped his hat with a respectful nod and walked on with the others toward the streetcar. Katya thought about asking Mr. Davies if he knew anything about Maddox but decided against it.

“Thank you, Mr. Davies.” Katya slipped down from the driver’s seat.

“Any time, Miss Romanova,” Mr. Davies said. “I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

Katya wandered back into the carnival grounds. With the band and maintenance men gone, only a handful of workers remained amongst the still machines. The security, expectantly, lingered nowhere to be seen.

Katya began one final story featuring Agna and Mr. Davies. Agna approached the carriage where Mr. Davies sat high in his usual seat. She did not glance up at him, and he did not notice anything particular about her. She climbed into the carriage, and he waited for the other women to climb in behind her.

It was the one true story she had told herself all day.

Agna labored like a constantly driven beast. Even when Katya tried to avoid her, she glimpsed Agna no less than three or four times a night, always with buckets in her hands. She wiped sweat from her face, smeared blood off the calluses on her palms, and grimaced when her apron caught the vomit of a child who rode the Kaleidoscope too soon after eating. But none of it slowed her pace or lessened her determination.

Out of growing concern, Katya resolved to follow her. She always kept a safe distance of fifteen feet, although Katya doubted Agna would notice if Katya literally waltzed in front of her. Katya usually sought out a place to eat her supper in private, but for a few nights, she nibbled it as she walked.

Agna’s taught, pained expression never lightened. She never sat to rest or paused more than five minutes to consume a meal. Agna’s appearance became more and more bedraggled, her hair falling out of place at the back of her head and her complexion paling.

One night, Agna stumbled over an uneven clump of earth, the weight of the buckets slinging her toward the ground. She dropped the buckets with two messy splashes before she righted herself. A man in a pressed black suit jumped out of the way as the deluge leapt at his shoes. He snapped at Agna in a language Katya did not understand before stalking on his way. Agna gave no response Katya could see. Katya’s heart thumped in sympathy from deep in her belly, but before she could ask herself if she should help, Agna pried the buckets up again. She waddled away with them, and Katya turned her head. She could barely look at Agna anymore. The woman would work herself to death if no one intervened.

Katya waited until Isolde arrived and departed for the night before she made her way to Mr. Warden’s office. She wondered if she should knock first. Katya had rarely hesitated before, but she was not sure how welcome she would be. Katya pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Mr. Warden?” she called to let him know whom it was.

Mr. Warden stood up to meet her, standing by his desk in the other room. “Katya, how are you?”

“All right.”

“What brings me the pleasure of your company?”

Katya stopped in the doorway between rooms. “I wanted to talk to you about Agna Lieber.”

Mr. Warden lowered himself into his desk chair. His pleasantness soured. “What about Agna Lieber?”

“I’m not complaining, but she’s working too hard.”

“Maintenance tells me their tools have never been cleaner.”

Katya quickly obliged him. “I’m sure it’s true.”

“The operators say the rides are cleaner than they’ve ever been.”

“She’s a great worker.”

Mr. Warden leaned back in his chair, almost slumping his shoulders in an informal posture. “So what’s the problem?”

“She’s going to kill herself. Have you seen her?”

“Yes, I’ve seen her.”

“She looks horrible. I thought the woman before her wore herself ragged, but this turns my stomach. She’s never smiled once.”

Mr. Warden offered a wry twist of his lips. “She’s grieving, Katya.”

Katya shook her head. “She might be grieving, but even Irina looks happy from time to time. I’ve never met any woman with a worse mood than Irina.”

“What do you expect me to do about Mrs. Lieber?”

“Something. Anything. You’re the one who gave her the job.”

“I did.”

“Can’t you give her something else? Can’t you tell her she doesn’t have to wash the whole carnival by herself every night with Scrubb’s Ammonia and a toothbrush?”

Mr. Warden’s expression did not soften. “She wanted work, and I gave her work. I cleared the position for her. If I hadn’t done that, she’d be giving up much more than her private carriage. She’d lose her house, and her little girl would be selling newspapers on the street.”

“It can’t be the only job she can do.”

Mr. Warden sweetened his tone. “Who has more experience cleaning than a wife and a mother?”

“You know what I mean. She must have other skills.”

“You want me to give her another job at the carnival?”

“Yes,” Katya said, finally feeling like she was getting through to him.

“You want me to give Mrs. Lieber a better job with more exposure to the customers. You want me to give her a job where she’ll have to pay to alter her clothes in order to work. I was thinking of Mrs. Lieber when I gave her this job. I did her a favor.”

Katya wished she had not come into the office. “I’m telling you what I see. You don’t have to be cruel.”

“Katya.” Mr. Warden held his hand out until Katya stepped forward and took it. “I’ve told you before to leave the running of the carnival to me. I have everyone’s best interests at heart.”

“But she...” Katya saw no point in repeating herself. Agna was wasting away, her cheeks sinking in between the bones. Her blue eyes, once lackluster, looked hollow now. “I thought you could do more.”

“I would if I could, my dear. You know I would.”

Katya humored Mr. Warden with a hint of forgiveness in the curve of her mouth.

“Is there anything else bothering you?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good.”

Katya slipped her hand out of Mr. Warden’s. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell Mrs. Lieber I spoke up for her. She’s not very fond of me.”

“Give her a chance to know you. I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.”

Katya nodded. She realized the heady floral scent filling her nose must be the lingering perfume of Isolde Neumann. Katya had rarely smelled it before except on wealthy patrons and a few people she had passed while shopping downtown. “I hope you take your girlfriend on real dates, Mr. Warden, instead of restricting her to the confines of the carnival.”

Mr. Warden lifted his dark eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I see her here almost every night. You’re seeing Isolde Neumann, aren’t you?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Katya decided not to press him. Mr. Warden was too practiced at evasion to give up easily. “She’s lovely.”

“As are you.”

For once, Katya recoiled at one of Mr. Warden’s compliments. She could hardly believe he would continue to be forward with her, but she could hardly admit it surprised her.

Mr. Warden flicked his eyes over Katya’s dress. “It’s been a while since you wore anything new,” he added.

“I’ve been working on some designs. I haven’t put anything on paper yet.”

“I look forward to seeing you wear them.”

Katya backed up into the doorway. “I won’t take up any more of your time. I know you have a lot to manage with the carnival.”

“But not overworking myself.”

Katya flashed a tense smile.

“Don’t you worry about Mrs. Lieber,” Mr. Warden said. “She’s well compensated for her efforts. Not as well as you are, but she’ll be able to keep her house.”

The bottom of Katya’s stomach twisted. She wanted to ask Mr. Warden to lower her salary, to make it even with what the other women were making. But she could not. She had come to rely on that extra money, even revel in it. It paid for her costumes, her customized jackets, beautifully tailored dresses, and eye-catching hats.

Katya murmured a thank you as she turned and walked out of the office. She had never been so disappointed in herself.
Caring indeed, Mr. Davies
, she thought.
I’m as underhanded as Mr. Warden.