If the sanitation on Paris's streets had already opened Georgiana's eyes, then Quail Hill's sanitation was even worse.
Since the seventeenth century, this place had been a hub for the leather and dyeing industries. It had originally been a vineyard built on a hill, but now small workshops covered the entire slope. Between them, there was only a road wide enough for one carriage to pass. People and carts mingled together, making the place look crowded and filthy.
"You bring girls on dates to places like this?" Georgiana cried incredulously.
"You find parks boring, and you won't go to casinos either." Bonaparte laughed teasingly, then climbed out of the carriage like an explorer.
"Are you going?" Georgiana asked Carolan.
"You owe me a new pair of shoes." Carolan tapped Georgiana's nose and climbed down as well.
"Come down," Bonaparte said from the carriage door. "There are a lot of people, but they're all workers. It's very safe here."
She truly could not understand the connection between there being a lot of people, them all being workers, and the place being safe, but she got down anyway.
The moment she stepped out, the pungent smell of chemicals hit her head-on, stinging her eyes so badly she could barely open them.
"What are we doing here?"
"To meet someone," he said, just as two men dressed like members of the middle class approached.
"Let me introduce you. This is General Bertrand, commander of the engineers, and this is General Daru, the quartermaster." Bonaparte introduced them to Georgiana. Both men nodded to her without kissing her hand.
"Why are they here?"
"For the same reason we are. To meet someone."
He practically led her by the hand, while the two generals in civilian clothes followed behind them.
The place reminded her of Venice's