Maori by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504016391
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy

2

There was plenty of whispering at first, as expected. Not because Coffin had chosen to take on a servant but because that servant was a young woman of extraordinary beauty. But as the campaign continued and Coffin’s friends saw Merita doing only cleaning and cooking and washing, the talk died down and the insinuating speculation along with it.

Te Ohine had been right: Merita was efficient, clean, and thorough. She always seemed to be the first one in camp to awake and would not go to sleep no matter how tired until she had polished the last of his clothing. There was only one problem. He tried to ignore it and, finally failing, decided to confront it head on.

She was washing out socks when he found her. Bending over the wash basin thrust her backside up and out toward him, as smooth and perfect a curve as a mathematician’s proof of some higher theorem. He swallowed and moved around in front of her. As he did so she looked up and smiled. The thin top she wore was soaked with soap and water and clung to her breasts.

“Merita, you’re going to have to change your clothing.”

“My clothing?” She looked down at herself, wringing out a sock. Water trickled into the basin. “What’s wrong with my clothing?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it.” He offered what he hoped was a paternal smile. “It’s just that there isn’t enough of it.”

“Isn’t—ah, I understand.” She looked at him sideways. “Don’t you like to look at me?”

“Damnation, girl, are you always so direct?”

“So father tells me.”

His voice fell farther than he intended. “Of course I like to look at you. There isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t want to look at you. That’s the problem. You’re distracting half the army, parading around like that. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were a secret weapon planted by the Kingites, to keep our pickets from watching the forest and hills.” She giggled and rose. Her breasts thrust out at him from behind their thin cotton covering.

“But I like to wear this!” She executed a quick pirouette which sent the strands of dried reed she wore for a skirt swirling up as high as her waist.

Coffin deliberately looked away, anywhere else but at her. “I know you enjoy the freedom, but if you’re going to stay in my service you’ve got to learn to wear European clothes.”

“Pui!” She was pouting now. “All that clothing!”

“You’ll get used to it, and when winter comes you’ll be glad of it. We’re going through Pemberton tomorrow. There’ll be a store there and we’ll find you some dresses or something.”

“If you insist.” Her eyes flashed defiantly. “But I will not wear any of those ridiculous undergarments the pakeha women bind themselves with. I’d rather you tied me up.”

“That won’t be necessary.” What he didn’t add was that if he insisted she wear a corset, he would be forced to show her how to put it on and take it off, and he knew any lingering physical contact would be more than dangerous.

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