You can click on the links below to jump to the different extras, or just keep scrolling!
Deleted Section between Chapters 1&2
Alternate scene in Chapter 1
The witch cackled. “I’s shuddering. Now get out like you done been told.”
Mattis took a step toward Mellie, but at a noise from the witch thought better of it. Throwing his hands in the air, he left.
“We gots to talk, girl. Come on back to the house.”
Taking a deep breath, Mellie silently followed her step-mother, almost grateful for her placement. If the witch wanted any money from her job, Mellie’d need to be in one piece come morning. As they passed the laundry snapping in the hot wind Mellie wished it was dry enough to gather in. She’d rather do chores than stand face on with the witch.
The witch must’ve read Mellie’s mind. “Get on inside,” she said. “The chores’ll wait.”
Giving up dragging her feet, Mellie followed her into the dim house.
The witch jostled bottles around her potion shelf, muttering to herself. Finally satisfied, she tossed one to Mellie. “Down that.”
Mellie glared at the thumb-high tube. “What’ll it do to me?”
“No mind for that, just drink.” The woman didn’t even spare her a glance.
With a shrug, Mellie poured the orange liquid on her tongue. She gagged. It tasted like a mix of noxnob oil and manure.
“Swallow,” she was ordered.
There was no way around it. If she fought, there’d only be something worse to follow. It took a lot of swallowing, but Mellie finally got it all down.
“So what’ll happen now?” she asked. “My hair all falls out like Mattis’s did, or do I sprout tentacles on my face or sommat?”
The witch laughed. “Eat this,” she said, handing Mellie a chunk of brown that looked like a rock. “Cuts the flavor.”
Mellie gnawed on the bitter lump, waiting for the effects of the potion to assault her.
“How’s yer elbow?” the witch asked. “Got banged right good on that boy’s face.”
Unsure what to say, Mellie shrugged.
“I ain’t poisoned you, girl. I’s trying to show a kindness,” she huffed. “Potion’ll put you right soon ’nough. Not just yer elbow, mind, but any bits’re ailing.”
“Why?” Mellie asked. The witch never showed a kind twig in her spine.
Hurt flashed in her eyes. “You hates me.”
“You ain’t never gave me a reason not to.”
“Fair ’nough,” the witch said. “You were a difficult girl when yer da and I pledged, yer mam not six months cold in the ground. He on’y took me fer you, girl, but I never could speak at you. Only made it harder that you called me the witch, like I weren’t good ’nough for me name.”
Mellie’s jaw went slack. “You wanted me to use yer name?”
The witch snorted. “O’course I did.”
Guilt squirmed her belly. “You never said.”
“It’s past now, girl. Naught’ll come from wishing things changed.” The witch tried to smile. “May be that you won’t hear it, Mellie, but I’s always loved you in my way. Sending you inter service ain’t sommat I’d of chose, but yer da couldn’t be bothered to ask my thoughts.”
If the witch could make the effort to use her name, Mellie’d have to try, too. “Khora,” she started. The name felt odd in her mouth. “Don’t make no sense, Khora. If’n you loved me, why’d you treat me like you did? Always sending me for spell makings or telling me to do sommat t’would keep me out the house?”
“You ain’t figured out ’bout the spells? I hoped to share it with you. Teach you witchcraft,” she added when it looked like Mellie didn’t understand.
“You wanted me to be a witch?” She couldn’t’ve been more stunned if the witch laid claim to a throne.
Khora nodded. “You’d have been good. You gots the gift, Mellie, but without training it’s unfocused. Near useless. Don’t have near that much power meself. That’s not why, though. If you liked witchcraft, we’d have had sommat in common. Sommat to talk on. We could’ve been friends.”
Mellie didn’t know what to say. The idea of being friends with the witch — Khora — was more than she was ready to take in.
“You was never curious about it. Might’ve been yer dislike fer me, I guess.” Khora waited for Mellie to say something.
Finally, Mellie found her voice. “I don’t dislike you. I don’t knows you well enough to know if I do like you. We ain’t never spent much time together.”
Khora looked pained, but moved on. “You was holding yer own with that boy. The Lord Knight’s son, weren’t it?”
“Erm.” Mellie squirmed under Khora’s knowing gaze.
“Yer da won’t hear it from me,” Khora said. She pushed herself to her feet and brushed off her skirt. She grabbed a dagger off the rough table and started slicing a pile of herbs into perfect shreds. “Those attentions ain’t meant to reach a da’s ear. He’d go storming off to threaten the blasted Lord Knight.”
Mellie’s stomach dropped.
“I would’ve kept out of yer business, but you was asking him to leave and he weren’t going.” She waited for Mellie to nod. “You meet boys out there much?”
Mellie’s face darkened as embarrassment pooled the blood under her skin. She tried to find sommat to say, but couldn’t get any words out.
Khora stabbed her dagger in the air, pointing it at Mellie. “Just the Lord Knight’s boy, or others, too?”
“Just one other,” Mellie mumbled. “Tayne.”
The words felt strange in her mouth, but if Tayne was trying to buy her contract, it’d be best if someone knew she’d spent time with him.
“Tayne.” Khora raised her eyes in thought. “He’s right high in society, too, ain’t he? Higher even than the first.”
“Lord Vandergraff’s son. He’s good to me,” Mellie said, begging Khora to understand. “He don’t want to see me go. He—he wants to pledge to me.”
Khora sighed. She dropped the dagger and moved to place an awkward hand on Mellie’s shoulder. She pulled Mellie down to sit on the bench. “His mam wouldn’t stand fer it, girl.”
Mellie sank into herself. She knew it well. “His da knew and said it was a’right.”
“That’s what the boy told you, leastwise,” she corrected. “Boys of rank don’t mean what they say. Likely he was using you.”
Mellie’d had the same thoughts, but hearing them from someone else panged. “He’s not like t’others,” she defended him. “He’s kind. He wants ter look after me.”
Khora tipped her head to the side, like she was seeing something new. “You love him, then?”
Mellie shrugged. “Don’t know much ’bout love.”
Khora scowled, her twisted face fearsome. Getting up, she went to rummage through a cupboard. Soon she backed out, a streak of dirt marring her cheek. “Take this. It’s a protection charm.”
Mellie took the thing. It was a round disk, like a coin, only this had strange designs burned into polished wood. “What’s it to protect from?”
“Unwanted touches,” Khora said. “Anyone touches you—fer any reason—without yer blessing, they’ll regret it.”
“What’ll it do to them?” Mellie asked with a grotesque fascination.
“It’ll wither their brains. Or anything else they’re thinking with,” she added. “Once saw a cook smack someone fer stealing a taste of potato. Next morning the cook’s arms and tongue were withered useless. Should come in handy going off to lord’s castle. Always soldiers at castles, and they gots roving hands. Should work right good on anyone ain’t got magic.”
Mellie stared at the disk, unsure if she wanted it. Its power was beyond her knowing, but for the first time, Khora was making an effort. That, more than anything else, made Mellie decide to keep it. “Thanks,” she offered.
Khora shrugged, uncomfortable. “Keep it against yer skin fer it to work.”
Deleted Section Between Chapters 1&2
“My husband seems to have made many allowances for you,” Lady Kilamesh said. “He believes you’re worth the sufferance. I expect you to prove worthy of his leniency.”
“Yes’m,” Mellie murmured. She only half-listened, the fancy hallway stealing her attention. Stone walls held sconces and tapestries, and the rugs were so thick her feet sank in almost to her ankles.
“I’m told we’re not to ‘mess with’ your speech,” she continued as if Mellie hadn’t spoken. “You’ll find, however, that learning to curb your low-class, countrified way of speaking will afford you a better chance of acceptance from the mother of the young man dictating how you should be treated.”
Mellie kept on in silence, coming face on with the woman as she whirled. If she hadn’t been so miserable, Mellie would’ve laughed at the way Lady Kilamesh’s towering hair wobbled. A wisp of black and gray hair slid out of place.
The woman’s black eyes bore into her. “This is where you apologize.”
Mellie stilled, wishing herself away from the woman’s eyes. “Fer what? M’lady.”
Lady Kilamesh didn’t bother restraining her sigh. “I apologize for your inconvenience, my lady. My young man is headstrong, my lady, and doesn’t concern himself with struggles his requirements may cause you.” She waited a moment. “Those were two acceptable responses, Mellie. I’ve met the woman you must impress and you will not be successful without following very strict form. Proper speech is one of many lessons required.”
“I see,” Mellie said carefully.
The lady turned into a room with large windows overlooking the woods to the east of the castle. “Please be seated, Mellie.”
Weary from traveling most of the previous day, Mellie dropped onto a sofa. The shiny cushion was slick and she had to scrabble to keep from dumping herself in a heap on the rug.
Lady Kilamesh clicked her tongue and perched on a chair across from Mellie. “Learning to behave as a lady is quite a large undertaking.”
“M’lady,” Mellie said. She tried to find words fancy enough. “If I may say sommat?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t see why I cain’t stay the way I am. I’s happy back home, and Tayne loves me same’s I’ve ever been.” She kept the frustrated tears in her eyes by force.
“Lady Vandergraff is a force unto herself. Her husband has been repeatedly passed over for responsibilities — and taxes — she believes are his due. The Vandergraff family has wealth when compared to others in that area, of course, but they’re wealth is average amongst the nobility.” Lady Kilamesh brushed at her skirts. “Lady Vandergraff expects her son to marry above himself to bring more holdings and business ventures into the family. Her husband must agree with whatever match she hopes to make for the boy, but I’ve learned she’s approaching only those young ladies of the highest nobility.”
“Tayne’s da knows about us,” Mellie said confidently. “We’ll be together.”
Lady Kilamesh bunched her lips together. “It would be best if Lady Vandergraff believed you to be of noble birthright prior to the wedding. You must be able to convince her, Mellie, or your marriage arrangement will be forfeit.”
And with it, any hope of money fer her da. Resigned, Mellie stood. “What do I gots to do?”
“You may begin by taking your seat as a proper lady should. Observe.” Lady Kilamesh stood and stepped away from the chair. Moving back to her seat, she settled herself in an elegant sweep. “Imitate the motion.”
Mellie tried the motion. She felt as graceful as a new colt finding its legs.
The next hours were spent trying to learn sommat Mellie thought she’d mastered as a baby. Who knew sitting could be so pox-rotted nasty?
“There will be many things to learn, Mellie,” Lady Kilamesh said, “but we must begin with basic movement. I will aid you in the mornings, and you may learn to run a household in the afternoon hours. You must know everything. Kitchen duty will be first. The cook will help you learn what there is to know from scrubbing pots to choosing the proper service for each type of event, yet even those basics must wait a day. My personal maids will sort out your hair today. If I may suggest, during your training a plait would keep your long tresses in order. We can move to proper coiffure later.”
Mellie ate fast and was dragged through the castle to where a tub sat steaming. Mellie glowered. If’n they kept making her wash, she’d have no skin on her bones.
“Sally scrubbed me raw yesterday,” she griped. “Cain’t be dirt left to clean.”
CHANGE SCENE
Lady Kilamesh learning to sit, stand and walk — with grace. It was a struggle. Mellie ached places she didn’t know could ache. Afternoons roughed her hands with dishwater and tuber-scrubbing. The day Cook stood her in front of a cutting block was delight.
The cook started making her go out behind the kitchens before breakfast to dig in the herb garden. She learned how each should look for harvesting, how they smelled and what kind of tastes they had: rosemary was woodsy, beebliss tasted sweet. Soon she branched into the food gathering. That was familiar — she’d helped on her da’s farm longer’n she could remember. Even in the near-dark she could choose the ripe tomatoes or the perfect radish.
Mellie knew some basic cooking from her growing-up years, and was able to move out of the kitchens after two months. By then she’d earned a smile from Lady Kilamesh on moving properly.
As winter settled, Mellie’s mornings went to dance and music lessons, while afternoons were with the housekeeper. She dusted and polished, emptied chamber pots, scrubbed floors, and stoked fires. She was learning all the jobs the staff did.
One thing hadn’t changed yet, and Mellie was glad. It was a warm space to her that Lady Kilamesh wasn’t fixing her speech. She’d claimed there’d be time for that after Mellie’d learned the other things. Still, Mellie found her words changing to closer match the other girls.
The year was waning when Lora met Mellie in the servant quarters with an invitation to join Lady Kilamesh for tea.
“How do I act at tea?” she demanded. “I cain’t handle any more, Lora. I’m stretched too far, like pie crust what’s falling to bits.”
“My lady will help you with tea, Mellie,” Lora said. “It’s just a practice. I heard her telling my lord that you’ve learned much faster than she expected. You’re doing well, really.”
Mellie sat in the dust-filled corner. “I ain’t, though. I barely make it through a day without falling on my nethers.”
“We should go to my lady, ask her to go more slowly,” Lora worried.
Mellie shook her head and scrubbed at the single tear on her face. “I gots to learn faster. Tayne is waiting for me, and soon as Lady Kilamesh says I’s ready, I can go.”
“Sweetie, no man is worth being in misery.” Lora paused. “Are you sleeping much? Eating? That dress should be too small by now.”
Mellie flushed. She’d tried to plump out, but the food wouldn’t stick to her. “I’s on cleaning duty at night.”
“That means you don’t sleep until after midnight. When are you up?”
“Don’t know. Afore the sun.”
“I’m going to my lady,” Lora started. “She wouldn’t let you do so much.”
“No,” Mellie said, grabbing at Lora’s sleeve. “I gots to learn fast so Tayne don’t forget me. Please promise.”
Lora paused. “I’ll wait a week. Get up, Mellie, and let me brush the dust from your skirt. You can’t go to tea like that.”
An hour later, Mellie sat face on with Lady Kilamesh, a porcelain tea service on the low table between them. Mellie’s hands shook as she poured.
“The staff tells me you’re learning very quickly,” the lady said, smiling. “That pleases me. My husband insisted you’d surprise me. I don’t enjoy it when he’s right, but I must admit he understood you better than I.”
Mellie tried to smile, but her head rang.
Lady Kilamesh’s eyes went to slits. “Something is wrong, Mellie.”
“What? Ain’t nothing —” A wave silenced her.
“The other girls are happy here. They flirt with the soldiers and gather at the inns on their day off. I’ve learned you never join them. You never so much as take your free day. You haven’t gained weight; I believe you’re thinner than ever.”
“I got lots to learn,” Mellie mumbled. “Ain’t got time to frolic.”
“You must make the time, Mellie,” Lady Kilamesh ordered. She watched Mellie over her teacup, then sighed. “There must be more to this than the young man whose ring you wear.”
The lady’s befuddlement startled Mellie. “It’s my family,” she said, lecturing like she talked to a child. “My da got me a place here so he’d have less mouths ter feed, but my wages ain’t enough to seem them comfortable. After Tayne pledges me they won’t go hungry no more.”
“I see.” Her look said she saw too much. “Do you have any feelings for the boy or is this all a practical arrangement?”
Mellie colored. “I feel. His touch sends jitters all over me and his kiss is better than air.”
Lady Kilamesh nodded, but her troubled eyes stayed. “Good. I won’t see you throw your life away to feed your family when there are other ways to give them care. I still want you to learn to frisk. The work you’ve been doing is too much.”
Shaking her head, Mellie argued. “You know there’s too much t’ learn.”
“Do you not realize how much you’ve taken in? You’ve learned the basic kitchen skills, what a parlor maid does, how the housekeeper runs the place. You move gracefully — more gracefully than most born-and-raised ladies, Mellie — you’ve mastered the common dances, learned to play the piano marginally well. You’ve done more in five months than I’d hoped you’d learn in a year.”
Mellie looked up, hopeful. “Then I can go?”
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to get your expectations so high. There are still many things to learn. Proper speech, what a lady’s maid does, what a lady herself does with her time, among other things.” Lady Kilamesh paused. “I had you to tea for a reason. We’re going to redirect your education. You will join my ladies-in-waiting for a few weeks. Afterwards, I’ll take you as my ward. Do you understand what that means?”
“No.”
The lady gave her a rare genuine smile. “It means you’ll be under my tutelage and protection. I will give you the education you would have received at a school for children of blood. You will also have the opportunities you most need, Mellie. As my ward you may travel with me to meet other high-standing families. You may attend social events such as teas and balls. This will give you occasion to test the skills you’ve been learning to be accepted by Lady Vandergraff.”
Lady Kilamesh wanted her to prance around pretending she was as flighty as a noble girl? Mellie swallowed hard and tried to hush her queasy stomach. “What if they don’t much care fer me?”
“They will. They’ll love you. I’ll be very surprised if you don’t have several offers of marriage before your time here is up.” Lady Kilamesh reached out at Mellie’s squeak of dismay. “I won’t introduce you to society until you’re ready, Mellie.”
Mellie pressed her hands into her roiling belly. She’d survive. Mayhap even make the best of it; she didn’t get a say in her life anyway.
“I will require one thing,” Lady Kilamesh continued. “You must take your day off. You get one every other week. I do expect to hear you’re making the most of them. Befriend some of the girls. Learn to flirt, and practice on the boys at the inn or the soldiers. I know you consider yourself spoken for, but your young man will appreciate those skills.”
Knowing she wouldn’t get to flee the room without agreeing, she nodded abruptly. If it was required, she’d do it. The lady didn’t know she had experience trifling with Tayne, or with Mattis. Flirting couldn’t be much different.
CHANGE SCENE
Cutting through the dusky shadows, Mellie grudgingly followed Sally and Corinne toward the inn. The Rustler was where Sally spent most of her days off in search of a soldier willing to dally.
Smoke nipped her eyes as Mellie crossed into the dank common room. Soldiers gambled at dice or cards, their girl of the day perched near their shoulder or on their knee. Others roved the room, talking up the girls teamed with friends, offering drinks.
“I cain’t stay,” Mellie said, breathing in gasps. She’d been to inns and taverns before, but not with the mind to join in the frivol. The girls each took one of her arms, pulling her to a corner table where a group was bundling to go into the weather.
“Sit down,” Corinne insisted. “Sally will get drinks and food before she gets to work. Then you and I can watch the maven show her skills. I won’t leave you unless you can handle it.”
Feeling a touch better, Mellie sat, smoothing the dress the girls had loaned her. It was too thin for the storm they’d been out in, and bared more skin than she liked—her shoulders were bare, same as her back save a sparse satin lacing—but she liked wearing sommat that wasn’t what she’d worn for months. If she was to act the part of a coquette the dress would help.
She ate her fill of the meated trenchers Sally ordered and sipped an ale, all while watching Sally make eyes at a group of soldiers at the bar. It didn’t take long for Sally to tire of waiting and prance through the crowd to get to them.
Corrine and Mellie talked through what she did: the eye flicker, a coy touch to the arm, leaning in to speak hushed. “She’ll flip her hair now,” Corinne said. “Watch, it’ll catch on one of them.”
As she spoke, Sally shook her head, hair tossing and catching on a soldier’s sleeve. He unraveled himself from it, his hands lingering and stroking the offending locks.
“That’s all it takes most of them. Oh, she’s invited them over.” Corinne pulled a bit of lint off her sleeve, checking to see what else needed doing before turning her attention to Mellie. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to show more in front.”
Panicked, Mellie shook her head. Before she could say her mind, Sally was there introducing the boys she’d snared. Mellie didn’t try to learn their names. She touched her waist to make sure her protection charm hadn’t wandered off.
Finding a fresh pint of ale in front of her, Mellie started working on it as an excuse to keep out of the conversation. Eventually, the drink loosed her enough to join in the talk. When one of the soldiers wanted to see her hair free she even let him unbind the fancy bundle the girls had created with it. He made throaty, whimpery sounds as he caressed the dark mass of twists.
She’d never understand why long hair got boys so happy. She wanted to tuck her hair away, but after being ordered to work at frivoling, work she would. Instead of making plain her wish to disappear, she glanced up from under her eye fringes at the boy.
He smiled and his thigh touched against hers. Mellie smiled sidelong and called for more ale. If she had to make a fool of herself she might as well give it decent effort.
The late night found her being passed from one soldier’s arms to another’s as the group pushed their way back to the castle through the snow.
Come morning her pained head brought to mind the many pints of ale she’d downed. Through the ache she was embarrassed to recall becoming the center of attention as she danced her way through the soldiers at The Rustler.
By midday it was a relief to get off her feet, even if she had but a few minutes to eat. She fell onto the bench between Corinne and Sally and pressed her hands over her eyes. “How do you lot keep yer heads on after a night of drink?”
“No mind about that.” Sally leaned in close and whispered. “Did you hear about the soldier? The one who saw us back to the castle?”
Mellie moaned. Trying to remember a single soldier was more than she could manage. All she could think was wandering hands as thick arms held her upright, and her discomfort at the touch. Was that before they’d left the inn or on the way back?
“He’s turned simple.” Sally’s voice was torn between awe and glee. “The physician can’t find anything wrong, but his mind stopped working right.”
A pit opened inside Mellie. The roving, groping hands came clearer in her mind. Whispers in her ear of wanting to do things even most soldiers wouldn’t try. Fata and fey. She fumbled her hands at her waist, feeling the press of Khora’s gift.
“They say,” Sally went on, her eyes gleaming, “it might be witchcraft.”
The twinge of pleasure that came from knowing Khora’s charm had worked didn’t cover Mellie’s horror.
Chapter Break
The second month of the year tottered in with bland weather and winter ailments. Mellie’s time as a lady-in-waiting was coming to its end when Lady Kilamesh sent for Mellie to attend another tea.
“Can’t I skip?” Mellie complained. “M’lady doesn’t need me there.”
“My lady wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t needed,” Lora argued. She straightened Mellie’s braid so it hung center to her back and smoothed her skirts. “Don’t fuss, sweetie. My lady only calls girls to tea for good behavior.”
Cursing everything she’d had cause to know of, Mellie strode down the hall. Outside the sitting room she paused to fluff her sleeves properly and smooth her dress.
Quicker in is quicker out. Mellie slipped through the door, remembering to move gracefully. It wasn’t natural to her, but it served.
“Ah, Mellie,” Lady Kilamesh said, glancing up from her needlework. “Please sit down.”
Mellie crossed the rug to join the lady by the tea service. “You sent for me,” she said.
“Of course. We have much to discuss.” Her words were tempered with a genuine smile, but Mellie’s breath still froze in her chest. The words were menacing, even if the tone was cheery. “You’re doing well. I’ve received very pleasing reports. You’re ready to begin your true training.”
“Begin? I’s — I’ve been working hard for months, m’lady.”
Lady Kilamesh bobbed her head. “You have. Tomorrow you’ll become my ward, Mellie. The staff will be informed to treat you as such. You’ll do no more of the menial work required to run a household. Instead, you will be waited on while you learn other things. We’ll begin with proper speech, art, and some book learning.”
It had never been her choice, but Mellie murmured thanks anyway. It was only polite.
“You must move your things to a new room. Wards do not live in servant quarters.”
Mellie didn’t explain she had no possessions other than a comb and some soap, and the gifts from Khora. The lady would frown.
CHANGE SCENE
Mellie didn’t have a new room, she had chambers. A small sitting room led to a sleeping chamber on one side. A dressing chamber was past that. They were simple spaces, compared to the common rooms, but too fancy for comfort.
She hung her spare uniform in the dressing chamber and Jean aided her in dressing down to her shift.
Feeling lost in the large bed, Mellie tossed under the too-soft blankets. Eventually she drifted into strange dreams with Tayne’s dark eyes and soft whiskers, and the feel of sommat dire creeping up behind.
Light on her eyes woke her. She struggled to remember where she was.
“Good morning, Miss Mellie.”
Shoving her eyelids open, Mellie saw Sally tying back the bed curtains. She scowled. “I ain’t Miss anything.”
“You are now,” Sally said, reaching behind Mellie’s head to fluff her pillow. “Everyone’s been told to treat you as we would a guest of my lady. You’re her ward now.”
“That don’t mean I want you to call me Miss,” Mellie grumbled. Something from her dream haunted her mind, but she couldn’t remember what. It left her grumpy.
Sally shrugged. “If I don’t show you proper respect they’ll find someone you don’t know to wake you and help you dress.”
Mellie groaned. Having her friend wait on her felt odd and wrong, but it was better than having a stranger. “Pox and rot.”
Knowing she’d won, Sally grinned. “You may be upper-class when my lady says I’ve learned enough to find a position for myself. If I’m good here, maybe you’ll let me come with you.”
She didn’t want to be upper-class. She just wanted to be safe. “I’d like that. If I gots to get served, best be someone I like.”
Sally curtsied. “Yes, miss. Let me work through your hair now. The seamstress is coming to measure you for new clothes soon.”
Mellie sat up, the soft blankets falling to her waist. “What? I gots clothes.”
“Not proper ones, miss. You’re going to be hosting teas and going to parties. A servant uniform isn’t good enough for you anymore.”
The seamstress clucked over Mellie’s bones and took in some gowns so they’d fit. When she left there were four gowns in her dressing chamber and one on her, and a promise of more to come.
“I feel absurd in this,” Mellie complained. Absurd was one of those new words she was still trying out. She liked knowing words that fit. She stared at her reflection in the tall mirror. The gown was deep red to match the fancy stone in her ring. Gold embroidery climbed the bodice and twined around the skirt, and a gold cord hung loosely over her hips. The neck was lower even than her serving dress. “I cain’t move; it’s too heavy.”
“You look lovely,” Sally said. Mellie thought she heard a hint of envy, but Sally’s face didn’t show it. “My lady said for you to go to the morning room when you were through.”
Mellie pulled a face. “She’s going to make me talk proper now, I guess.”
“You do better than you realize,” Sally said. “You sound more like the rest of us all the time.”
CHANGE SCENE
A half dozen weeks later found Mellie seated across from Lady Kilamesh. Tea cups sat ignored as steam wafted from them. The lady was watching Mellie with what could only be called a glare, waiting for the girl to speak.
“I weren’t trying to fire him,” Mellie finally spat, the proper speech she’d been fussing over dropping away.
Lady Kilamesh’s finger tapped her thigh, a silent threat. “If you weren’t after his dismissal, why did you send the boy from the barn? He was needed.”
“He weren’t needed, m’lady. That mare was foaling and he were smacking on her.”
The lady paused to gather herself. When she spoke, her words were like nails being pounded in. “What were you doing in the barn when it was dark out? You are my ward, not a horse handler.”
Knowing it would help ease Lady Kilamesh’s anger, Mellie focused on her speech. “I saw the mare after riding yesterday, my lady. I knew she was near foaling. She was scared; I wanted to check on her.”
“How did you know she was near her time?” Lady Kilamesh’s anger was gone, curiosity pushing it aside.
“I spent my growing-up years on a farm,” Mellie explained.
The lady nodded. “Sometimes I forget you girls had lives before this. But Mellie, people were with the mare. You have to trust people to do their jobs.”
Mellie colored in anger. “That boy was alone with her. A maiden mare can take longer to foal and he were striking her with a rake handle trying to speed her up. She were hurting. I told him to git out. Ankou witness, he were lucky. I felt to turn that rake on him.” She almost had. Only thoughts of disappointing Lady Kilamesh had stayed her hand.
Red spots bloomed on the lady’s cheeks and her eyes flashed, but her voice stayed steady. “Caring for the mare was not the problem. Couldn’t you have found someone else to get rid of the incompetent boy? People are worrying you’ll have them dismissed if they upset you.”
“Sorry. M’la—my lady.”
“It’s past now.” Lady Kilamesh sighed.
It was past, but it would take time for Mellie to earn back the respect she’d worked so hard to have.
Sitting forward, Lady Kilamesh reached toward Mellie. “Let me see your hands.”
Mellie’s stomach twisted. She’d hoped to hide the marks. She had salves to help them heal, but they took time to work. There wasn’t a choice — she reluctantly held her hands out.
“Are these scrapes from the barn?”
Something in the lady’s voice caused Mellie to tell the truth. Or mayhap it was knowing she’d already caused disappointment that day. “No, my lady. They’re from the woods.”
“The woods? Mellie, there are wild animals in those woods.”
“Nothing I’ve not handled afore.” Knowing it was useless, she raised her cooled tea and took a sip, hoping the lady would lose her thought.
Lady Kilamesh was thunderish. “What is so important in the woods that you would risk yourself? When do you manage to spend time there?”
“My lady, I needed to get out. I’s used to fresh air and physical work.” Seeing the look on the lady’s face, Mellie hurried on. “I’s clearing a garden space. I miss the farm. I want to grow sommat.”
The lady didn’t speak right away. Finally she sighed, as if the weight of Mellie’s needs was more than she could bear. “You could putter in the rose garden. Ladies often take an interest in overseeing their gardens.”
Mellie shook her head. “Too early for roses, or for plantings. I’s getting this spot cleared for when seeds’ll grow.”
Lady Kilamesh was quiet. Finally, parting her pursed lips, she spoke. “Take me there.”
“What?”
“If this is important to you, we can give you time for gardening. I want to see where this new garden is and what you’ve accomplished with it.” She stood and shook out her skirts. “Come along.”
“Now?” Mellie couldn’t keep pace with the lady.
“Of course now. Get your cloak and meet me in the entry.”
Mellie hadn’t planned to let anyone see her haven, leastwise not afore it was grown. Shoving her bother aside, Mellie did as she was told.
At the entryway, Lady Kilamesh motioned for her to show the way. Dragging her feet, Mellie crossed the formal gardens and passed the barn. Halfway along the horse pasture, she turned into the woods. A dozen feet inside the trees, the path Mellie had broken opened up.
“Are you certain it’s safe?” Lady Kilamesh asked. Her eyes skittered like she was looking for a thing hunting her.
Mellie stopped her laugh before it could sound. To think the lady lived here and hadn’t been into the woods. “Yes, my lady. There are small creatures in these woods, but nothing hurtful.”
After a number of minutes they entered a break in the trees. The clearing was near to oval. Mellie had cleared the old leaves and scrub, leaving it tidy. The broken ground smelt sweet and rich, and filled the air with hopes and promise. The core of the area was covered in flat stones, leaving a wide strip of garden around the edge.
“I thought to buy a chair or sommat to bring,” Mellie said. She fiddled with her braid and waited for the lady to demand she keep to the prison of the house. The clearing wasn’t much, but Mellie was proud of the work she’d done to make it pleasant.
Finally, Lady Kilamesh spoke. “This will be lovely when it’s planted. I’ll speak to the gardener; he’ll get you any plants you need, and a table and chairs.”
“I can do it?”
“You look like a fish with your mouth hanging open like that. You may have your garden. I’ll see you get an apron and some gloves to protect your clothing and hands. If your hands are always scraped people will wonder what you’re up to.” The lady shook her head. “You are certainly one for secrets.”
“I’s—I’m sorry, my lady,” Mellie mumbled. Not for keeping secrets — sometimes secrets had to be kept. She was sorry for getting caught. And, to her surprise, Mellie found she was sorry for not trusting the lady who’d spent so much time trying to help her.
“Mellie, you can tell me things,” Lady Kilamesh said. A breeze toyed with her hair, loosing the shorter locks from her elaborate style. “I don’t want you to feel you have to keep secrets from me. The things you’re learning are important, but I want you to be happy. You work hard, and you’ve learned quickly, but — so little here has given you happiness. I’ve learned happiness is at least as important as all the rest. Can’t you see I want you to be happy? If that means you help a mare foal or grow a garden, we can work with it. You needn’t keep these things from me.”
Mellie gaped. “But I’s — I’m a servant. No one cares if a servant is happy.”
Sadness crossed the lady’s face, and Mellie’s belly churned. She’d done it again, only this time she didn’t know what she’d done wrong.
“My husband may have brought you here, but you’re not a servant. You’re a student.” Lady Kilamesh reached out and took Mellie’s hands. “Do you understand the difference?”
“I don’t know, my lady,” Mellie apologized, even as she wondered what she was apologizing for. “I wouldn’t have come here if I’d had a choice, but I know you’re trying to help me.”
“You’d leave today if I let you, wouldn’t you?” Disappointment hung heavy in her voice, hanging as thick in the air as the smell of woodsmoke drifting down from the smokehouse.
“No, my lady. I’s—I’ve still got too much to learn for Tayne’s mam to accept me.” Mellie had to learn enough. She had to.
The lady sighed. “I hope this Tayne won’t disappoint you.”
“He’s not like other boys, my lady,” Mellie said. She even wanted to believe it. “He gots a good heart.”
“I hope you’re right.” In a surprising moment of warmth, Lady Kilamesh linked her arm through Mellie’s. “I do hope you are.”