The Old Races_Year of Miracles by C. E. Murphy

Author:C. E. Murphy [Murphy, C. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 15727286
Publisher: Miz Kit Productions
Published: 2010-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Three determined maids, a shining brass tub, and more hot water than Sarah had ever seen did what she had been unable to: removed the stains and stenches of the slaughterfields from every part of her body. She had never been bathed before, not by someone else, and never so thoroughly. They were efficient but brutal, and Sarah felt bruised and raw when they took her from the tub, her skin bright red. Tangles of hair stuck to the tub's sides, and more came out, turning to rat's nests as all three women took a part of her head and worked first wide, then fine, toothed combs through her hair. She was pulled this way and that, their fists against her head to reduce the yank. When she was dizzy from the pulling, she held up her hands, pleading for a pause, and they slowed, then stopped. Sarah pushed her fingers against her skull carefully, trying not to undo their work, and asked, "What are your names?"

The girls looked at one another, and the oldest of them shrugged. "Colleen, miss."

Laughter caught her off guard. "All of you?"

"It's what the mistress called us. She don't care beyond that we're Irish, so that's what she called us."

"Well, I'm not the mistress, so you are...?"

They were Rose and Mary and Bridget, and they were less grim in their duties after that. A fourth girl, younger than the ladies' maids, knocked at the door and entered with watered wine, cheese, meats, and a message Janx had clearly made her memorize: "So that you don't perish, my lady, whilst you're made even lovelier than you are by nature."

Sarah protested, "I'm nobody's lady," but knew it as a lie even as she spoke. It amused Janx to elevate her, and so to the servants she was a lady, whether her voice and hands showed it or not. These ones would hold their tongues, at least within earshot, about what they thought, because they would be grateful to the ginger lord for keeping them on when the family lost the means to maintain the estate. They would bow and curtsey to Sarah, and so by their ends, she was what they named her: lady. Lady from the slaughterfields, she thought, but forbore to object a second time.

She did, though, cough on the watered wine when Rose and Bridget laid out the dress she was to wear. Pale yellow, a springtime color, and more fabric to it than in both her own dresses combined. The waist was narrow and long, and the shoulders were completely bare. Rose set a lightweight wrap inside the open shoulders and made a small apologetic movement. "This might do you best, my lady. You've strong shoulders for a..."

For a noblewoman, Sarah finished, but was no more likely to say it aloud than Rose was. There would be no pretending her frame, built through years of hard work, could mimic one of the delicate ladies of the court.

"For a woman," Rose said with determination, as if she'd meant to say it all along.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.