The Steam Walker (Steam World Book 1) by Todd McCaffrey

The Steam Walker (Steam World Book 1) by Todd McCaffrey

Author:Todd McCaffrey [McCaffrey, Todd]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Foxxe Frey Books
Published: 2019-07-07T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Eleven

“Stand still, Mary, or I’ll prick you with the needle again!” I warned as I lightly swatted the little girl on the shoulder to add emphasis to my words. “I know you’re excited, we’re all excited but if you don’t stand still we can’t finish your outfit and until we do that, we can’t go Guising!”

They tell me that in the Colonies they’ve some strange celebration around Hallowe’en where children dress up and go to doors looking for sweets but I can’t imagine that it’s anything nearly as good as Guising.

Mary stood still and I went back to work watched by a worried Bessie.

“Oh, come on, Bessie, everyone will be doing it!” I said in answer to her expression.

“But not dressed as a boy!” Bessie complained.

“That’s only me,” I reminded her. “You’re dressed as the noble lady of the house.”

Bessie bit her lip to keep from speaking which is probably just as well or I would have hit her.

We needed to go Guising. Needed it more than I’d let on. I’m pretty sure that Bessie, who was in charge of our larder, had a suspicion of my sudden cheer over the traditional holiday where children prance about Edinburgh reciting verse or performing skits for the delight of households in return for sweets, apples, and other rewards.

Every little bit would help and — besides, it’d give me a chance to test my disguise. I was pretty sure that Bessie had tumbled to my plan but she’d have to go along with it, particularly if no one recognized me when we went Guising tonight. If they did, then I’d have to try something else.

“Now remember, for tonight I’m Samuel Clarke just up from the next smithy.”

“Yes, Mr. Clarke,” Mary chirped dutifully, perhaps wary of my hand with the sewing needle. She glanced down at her finery and her eyes widened.

Sewing wasn’t my first love but I took pride in anything I put my hand to and this particular creation was coming along nicely. When I was done, little Mary would look every inch the princess while Bessie was already primped up to be a queen.

And I? I was dressed as a prince, naturally.

Our skit would be a play on courtly manners, neither obsequious nor insolent.

Good manners were prized in Edinburgh town where all too often it was all we had and courtly manners had come back into vogue with the arrival of Prince Charles.

One final stitch of frill onto Mary’s cuffs and...

“Done!” I said. “Go look in the mirror.”

“I never thought she’d look so pretty,” Bessie admitted as we followed little Mary to the mirror and watched as she preened and pranced in delight.

“I’m a princess! I’m a princess!” Mary squealed happily.

“A little less prancing, princess, or your costume will come undone,” I warned her.

Instantly she stopped, scrutinizing her garment with wide eyes.

“Are we ready?” I asked, looking to Bessie but it was Mary who turned and pointed to me in alarm.

“Your hat!” She said.

“Yes, quite,” I agreed, turning back and



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