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Authors: Marie-Louise Jensen
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stockings. ‘No time,’ he whispered, throwing the sack out of the window, and returning for my boots and stockings and disposing of them the same way. When I came to the sill, he caught me around the waist and swung me up onto it. I looked down with distaste, for it looked like a midden under the window. I wasn’t jumping down into that.
The voices approached the cottage from the front and Will gave me a sharp push. With a cry of shock, I tumbled down into the heap of rotted straw, manure, and rubbish. Will coughed loudly to cover my cry and leaned on the sill. I scrambled to my feet, repulsed by the matter I was standing in, muck all over my feet and borrowed breeches. I was about to tell Will off when I heard him speaking. ‘Good mornin’ to you!’ he said loudly, speaking like a working man. ‘A fine day!’
I heard the rumble of a reply, but not the words. I retrieved the sack and my boots and hobbled out of the midden. Under the shelter of the cottage wall, I crouched down, trying to scrape the sludge off my feet onto some grass, feeling sick.
‘Got lost, I did,’ I heard Will tell the strangers. ‘Darkness fell, so I took shelter here, like.’
‘Be off with you … no vagabonds here … ’ I heard the strangers say. They sounded angry.
‘Ah well, no offence intended,’ said Will cheerfully. The sound of retreating footsteps reached my ears. I wondered if it was just Will that had gone or if it was the others too. I crouched still and as silently as possible against the wall of the cottage. I didn’t know what to do. Should I follow Will or should I stay put?
It seemed an age before Will appeared behind the cottage. He came from a different direction, sliding unobtrusively around the tumbledown sheep pen that backed onto the hovel. When he saw me still crouching uncomfortably by the wall, manure drying on my bare feet, he grinned.
‘That was most unlucky,’ he said jerking his head in the direction of the strangers. ‘My, your ladyship, you look more elegant every time I see you.’
‘Go to hell,’ I swore at him. ‘You tipped me into a midden, and I’ll swear you did it on purpose,’ I said. ‘There was no need for me to hide.’
‘Oh, wasn’t there, though?’ said Will with a chuckle. ‘You should see yourself.’
I put my hand to my ragged hair, wondering if he was taunting me with that. ‘Not just your hair,’ he said shaking his head. ‘You’re part girl, part boy, and part ghost. Do you think a tale like that wouldn’t get about? The last thing we need! You need to wash. And we should do something about your hair.’
I’d completely forgotten what a sight I must look. The thought brought a blush to my cheeks and tears to my eyes. Last winter I’d been the toast of London society and in the summer I’d been the reigning beauty of Bath. Now I must look like a mixture of vagabond and clown.
We found a small stream that trickled down from a sheep-nibbled hillside, sparkling in the morning sunshine, and there I bathed the sticky mess of chalk and ash from my face and soaked the manure from my feet.
Will took my chin in his hand, scrutinizing my face. I pulled away resentfully. ‘I was just checking for you,’ he said. ‘There’s still … wait … ’ He dipped his right hand in the stream and scrubbed at my cheekbone. I turned away as soon as he was done. ‘Just trying to help,’ he said. I ignored him. ‘Spoiled beauty,’ Will taunted me.
I turned to face him. ‘Firstly, you’ve done nothing so far that convinces me you’ve any kindness in you,’ I told him fiercely. ‘I don’t need to be spoiled to consider you’ve treated me abominably from the start. And secondly, I don’t want you touching me in any way. You disgust me.’
Will grinned. ‘Of course I do,’ he said, in a voice that suggested he thought the opposite. I glared at him, and he smirked back. I longed to slap him, but that would be unladylike. ‘Put your stockings and shoes
The voices approached the cottage from the front and Will gave me a sharp push. With a cry of shock, I tumbled down into the heap of rotted straw, manure, and rubbish. Will coughed loudly to cover my cry and leaned on the sill. I scrambled to my feet, repulsed by the matter I was standing in, muck all over my feet and borrowed breeches. I was about to tell Will off when I heard him speaking. ‘Good mornin’ to you!’ he said loudly, speaking like a working man. ‘A fine day!’
I heard the rumble of a reply, but not the words. I retrieved the sack and my boots and hobbled out of the midden. Under the shelter of the cottage wall, I crouched down, trying to scrape the sludge off my feet onto some grass, feeling sick.
‘Got lost, I did,’ I heard Will tell the strangers. ‘Darkness fell, so I took shelter here, like.’
‘Be off with you … no vagabonds here … ’ I heard the strangers say. They sounded angry.
‘Ah well, no offence intended,’ said Will cheerfully. The sound of retreating footsteps reached my ears. I wondered if it was just Will that had gone or if it was the others too. I crouched still and as silently as possible against the wall of the cottage. I didn’t know what to do. Should I follow Will or should I stay put?
It seemed an age before Will appeared behind the cottage. He came from a different direction, sliding unobtrusively around the tumbledown sheep pen that backed onto the hovel. When he saw me still crouching uncomfortably by the wall, manure drying on my bare feet, he grinned.
‘That was most unlucky,’ he said jerking his head in the direction of the strangers. ‘My, your ladyship, you look more elegant every time I see you.’
‘Go to hell,’ I swore at him. ‘You tipped me into a midden, and I’ll swear you did it on purpose,’ I said. ‘There was no need for me to hide.’
‘Oh, wasn’t there, though?’ said Will with a chuckle. ‘You should see yourself.’
I put my hand to my ragged hair, wondering if he was taunting me with that. ‘Not just your hair,’ he said shaking his head. ‘You’re part girl, part boy, and part ghost. Do you think a tale like that wouldn’t get about? The last thing we need! You need to wash. And we should do something about your hair.’
I’d completely forgotten what a sight I must look. The thought brought a blush to my cheeks and tears to my eyes. Last winter I’d been the toast of London society and in the summer I’d been the reigning beauty of Bath. Now I must look like a mixture of vagabond and clown.
We found a small stream that trickled down from a sheep-nibbled hillside, sparkling in the morning sunshine, and there I bathed the sticky mess of chalk and ash from my face and soaked the manure from my feet.
Will took my chin in his hand, scrutinizing my face. I pulled away resentfully. ‘I was just checking for you,’ he said. ‘There’s still … wait … ’ He dipped his right hand in the stream and scrubbed at my cheekbone. I turned away as soon as he was done. ‘Just trying to help,’ he said. I ignored him. ‘Spoiled beauty,’ Will taunted me.
I turned to face him. ‘Firstly, you’ve done nothing so far that convinces me you’ve any kindness in you,’ I told him fiercely. ‘I don’t need to be spoiled to consider you’ve treated me abominably from the start. And secondly, I don’t want you touching me in any way. You disgust me.’
Will grinned. ‘Of course I do,’ he said, in a voice that suggested he thought the opposite. I glared at him, and he smirked back. I longed to slap him, but that would be unladylike. ‘Put your stockings and shoes
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