“It’s imported from England,” he said. “I have four different carriages. This one is a brougham. You’ll see that I had the seats re-covered in new leather.”

The driver, who had been waiting, leaped down and opened the door. There was one unfolding step.

“This is Lucas,” Garland said. “Lucas, this is Miss Corrine Dixon. You might see quite a bit of her over the next few days, if we’re both lucky.”

Lucas was a slim man with dark-brown hair, the strands going every which way. I didn’t think him to be much older than I was and not much taller.

“Evening, ma’am,” he said, touching the brim of his hat and bowing slightly. He glanced at me and looked away quickly, as if a glance was all he was permitted. Getting into this carriage made it easy to feel like royalty.

Garland held my arm firmly as I stepped up and in. The seats did smell new.

“Open it up when we’re out of the city, Lucas. Miss Dixon likes to go fast,” Garland told him, and got in smiling. He sat beside me and unfolded the rose-colored blanket that had a lion embroidered in black at the center. It was captured in motion as if it had just leaped to seize its prey.

“What do you think?” he asked as we started away.

“Striking,” I said. “Beautiful work.”

“Yes, I have someone from New York City working on this, a true artist. I like the sense of movement, power, and confidence in the lion’s face.”

“Is that how you see the Foxworths, see yourself?”

“As reflected in the faces of the people I meet,” he said. “Am I overstating?”

“I’ll let you know,” I said.

“I imagine you will.”

Looking through the front window, I could see that the streets of the city were still quite busy. Like Alexandria’s, Charlottesville’s streets were increasingly lit by electric rather than gas lamps. They were brighter and for me gave the city more excitement at night. There was wave after wave of voices, people shouting and laughing, and music spilling out of bars and restaurants along the way.

“Busier than usual tonight,” Garland said, nodding at other carriages. “Kind of festive, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” My eyes were going everywhere, seizing on the women in scant clothes who were openly flirting with men, and men drinking from bottles of whiskey. I saw even women doing that here and there. Children who struck me as orphans were scurrying about offering to do favors and begging for change.

“My mother would call it Sodom and Gomorrah. She’d be absolutely overwhelmed by it now.”

“My mother would be in a faint if she were in this carriage,” I said, and he laughed.

The carriage picked up speed the moment we left the city streets. It bounced over the rough road. Garland put his arm around me.