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Authors: Rosalind Laker
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country.’
‘Do you think we are all villains there?’
‘No, no,’ she said hastily, rising to her feet. ‘I was just concerned for him.’
He left his chair to walk with her to the door, but blocked her leaving by stretching an arm across to hold on to it. They were close and he was looking down into her upturned face. ‘I’m sure he would be charmed by your interest.’
Then, taking her totally by surprise, he leaned forward and for a startled moment she thought he was going to kiss her. But he was only pushing the door wider for her and she turned quickly to leave his presence. With all the dignity she could muster she made for the staircase, plagued by the terrible conviction that she had actually swayed towards him when she had thought a kiss imminent. She could feel her cheeks flushing hotly and placed the cool back of her hand against her face as she hurried away. He had been teasing her and she was furious with him for causing her such embarrassment.
He watched her go and heard the last rustle of her petticoats as she took a hasty turn in the stairs. Then he laughed, quite softly, before turning back into the library.
In her room she shut the door swiftly behind her and went to the window, still holding the looking-glass to her like a small shield. Robert had played a subtle trick on her. Looking out unseeingly at the falling snow she reminded herself that men in any household, whatever their age, so often considered maids and other young servants to be fair game. Robert in his English arrogance had shown previously that he was more than aware of the social gap between them and for a moment or two he had taken advantage of her being on her own. She had no intention of complaining to Vrouw Gibbons, for there was nothing she could complain about in that slight encounter. He had not touched her or actually kissed her, and if she even hinted at her disquiet she would most surely be accused of coquettishness or otherwise enticing him in some way.
She straightened her shoulders, able to see that she had her own way of retaliating! He should not receive a pomander from her when he left for England! When he saw her give one to Grinling he would know that it was his outrageous trick that had forfeited a gift.
Yet in the morning Saskia reconsidered the situation. He had dealt with those rogues that had attacked her and she should be grateful enough to pardon the liberty he had taken with her. After all, nothing had happened that she could set down in black and white. Quite often in merry gatherings the youths she knew as friends from schooldays had sometimes managed the briefest of contact with her lips even as she had turned her face away with laughter. Now in the cold light of morning she decided that in acknowledgement of Robert Harting’s kind act she was obliged to make him a pomander too.
Later that day Saskia took advantage of a free afternoon to meet a friend, Anna, and go skating with her. As they went through the market she was relieved to see that under a cloth protecting the fruit from the icy air there were still some oranges for sale. Ships coming in from all parts of the world kept Rotterdam well stocked with supplies and what were exotic fruits in other lands were common fare on Dutch tables. After purchasing an orange of the size that she wanted she put it in her pocket, promising herself that she would start work on it that same evening.
‘How long are you free today?’ Anna asked as they went along. She was a pretty girl, her round cheeks rosy in the cold air.
‘Two hours. Vrouw Gibbons is playing cards at another lady’s house this afternoon, but I must be back in good time before she returns.’
‘Is she still being an old harridan towards you?’ Anna asked pityingly. She worked in her father’s bakery and he was lenient in letting her have time off whenever she wanted it.
‘She is never easy to please these days,’ Saskia admitted, ‘but I’m content to work for her until
‘Do you think we are all villains there?’
‘No, no,’ she said hastily, rising to her feet. ‘I was just concerned for him.’
He left his chair to walk with her to the door, but blocked her leaving by stretching an arm across to hold on to it. They were close and he was looking down into her upturned face. ‘I’m sure he would be charmed by your interest.’
Then, taking her totally by surprise, he leaned forward and for a startled moment she thought he was going to kiss her. But he was only pushing the door wider for her and she turned quickly to leave his presence. With all the dignity she could muster she made for the staircase, plagued by the terrible conviction that she had actually swayed towards him when she had thought a kiss imminent. She could feel her cheeks flushing hotly and placed the cool back of her hand against her face as she hurried away. He had been teasing her and she was furious with him for causing her such embarrassment.
He watched her go and heard the last rustle of her petticoats as she took a hasty turn in the stairs. Then he laughed, quite softly, before turning back into the library.
In her room she shut the door swiftly behind her and went to the window, still holding the looking-glass to her like a small shield. Robert had played a subtle trick on her. Looking out unseeingly at the falling snow she reminded herself that men in any household, whatever their age, so often considered maids and other young servants to be fair game. Robert in his English arrogance had shown previously that he was more than aware of the social gap between them and for a moment or two he had taken advantage of her being on her own. She had no intention of complaining to Vrouw Gibbons, for there was nothing she could complain about in that slight encounter. He had not touched her or actually kissed her, and if she even hinted at her disquiet she would most surely be accused of coquettishness or otherwise enticing him in some way.
She straightened her shoulders, able to see that she had her own way of retaliating! He should not receive a pomander from her when he left for England! When he saw her give one to Grinling he would know that it was his outrageous trick that had forfeited a gift.
Yet in the morning Saskia reconsidered the situation. He had dealt with those rogues that had attacked her and she should be grateful enough to pardon the liberty he had taken with her. After all, nothing had happened that she could set down in black and white. Quite often in merry gatherings the youths she knew as friends from schooldays had sometimes managed the briefest of contact with her lips even as she had turned her face away with laughter. Now in the cold light of morning she decided that in acknowledgement of Robert Harting’s kind act she was obliged to make him a pomander too.
Later that day Saskia took advantage of a free afternoon to meet a friend, Anna, and go skating with her. As they went through the market she was relieved to see that under a cloth protecting the fruit from the icy air there were still some oranges for sale. Ships coming in from all parts of the world kept Rotterdam well stocked with supplies and what were exotic fruits in other lands were common fare on Dutch tables. After purchasing an orange of the size that she wanted she put it in her pocket, promising herself that she would start work on it that same evening.
‘How long are you free today?’ Anna asked as they went along. She was a pretty girl, her round cheeks rosy in the cold air.
‘Two hours. Vrouw Gibbons is playing cards at another lady’s house this afternoon, but I must be back in good time before she returns.’
‘Is she still being an old harridan towards you?’ Anna asked pityingly. She worked in her father’s bakery and he was lenient in letting her have time off whenever she wanted it.
‘She is never easy to please these days,’ Saskia admitted, ‘but I’m content to work for her until
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