Vixen by Jane Feather

Author:Jane Feather [Feather, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9780553588613
Publisher: Fanfare
Published: 1994-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

“I’M SURE THERE’S a simple answer to this, lass, but just why do you never wear shoes these days?” Hugo regarded his ward’s bare feet as she came into the kitchen from the orchard. The memory of her grass-stained soles of the previous day was still vivid.

“Because I don’t have any,” she responded simply, taking an apple from the basket and rubbing it against her skirt.

“What do you mean, you don’t have any? Of course you have shoes.”

“Only brown serge kind of shoes,” she explained, scrunching into the apple. “Clumpy half boots that look silly with this dress.”

“The dress looks as if it could do with a wash,” he observed. “It looks as if you’ve been mucking out the stables in it.”

“Oh, it’s just from Rosinante and the dust from the stillroom,” she said, flicking carelessly at a smudge on her muslin skirt. “I was trying to encourage Plato to eat one of Beatrice’s mice, but I think he’s too young. I’ll have to dig up worms for him.”

“That will certainly improve the condition of your gown,” Hugo said dryly. “However, I think we’d better have another shopping trip to see about shoes.”

“And a riding hat,” Chloe reminded him. “I lost the other one at St. Peter’s Fields. I’ve a mind to purchase a shako. I saw a woman wearing one in Bolton once. It looked very dashing.”

“A shako!” Hugo groaned. “You’re far too small for such a style, lass.”

“Stuff,” Chloe declared. “It’ll make me look taller. Are we to go this morning?”

“We might as well get it over with,” Hugo said.

“Then I’ll change into my habit.”

“Give me strength,” Hugo muttered as the door closed on her energetic departure. “A shako! What the hell’s she’s going to come up with next?”

“Reckon as ’ow ye’ll be able to steer ’er right,” Samuel observed, biting off a length of thread. He held up the shirt he’d been mending and shook his head. “Ye’d do as well to buy yerself a new shirt. This one’s more patches than anythin’.”

“Not with the farrier to pay,” Hugo said, getting to his feet. He sighed. “Ah, well, into the breach, I suppose. Wish me luck, Samuel.”

Samuel gave him a dry smile. “If’n ye think ye needs it.”

Hugo’s answering smile was rueful. “Oh, make no mistake, Samuel, I’m going to need all the luck in the world to steer a safe path through this maze.”

Neither of them was referring to the shopping expedition. Hugo rarely had to tell the old sailor anything directly. His friend missed little of what went on around him.

“Tell the lass to bring down that gown and I’ll wash it while yer gone.”

“I hardly think it’s your place to do her laundry,” Hugo said, frowning.

“Right ’andy she is wi’ the animals,” Samuel said, “but I don’t reckon they taught ’er much about washin’ an’ flat irons in that seminary. She ’ad enough trouble washin’ the curtains from ’er room … and she didn’t know one end of the iron from t’other, as I recall.

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