Page 11 of The Empire and the Wolf King

On a direct path between fields we passed outbuildings, a barn, and a smokehouse with smoke rising from the chimney. I could see an orchard farther along and about six workers in the fields, stopping to watch as we strode by. We passed a stable and the kitchen garden, until we finally came to the front porch, where a woman stood at the rail wiping her hands on her apron. “Master Siddall, there is company?”

“Madame Siddall, I present to you, Master Campbell and his wife. They have solicited room and board. I will cart them to town in the morn.”

Magnus bowed, I did an awkward curtsey.

Her face drew down. “What manner of person is Master Campbell, in this outlandish attire? This is untoward! I was not expecting company, Master Siddall!”

Siddall’s voice was stern. “No need to fuss, Madame Siddall, he is here to fight the English. They are newly arrived and he is delivering his wife to safety, then he will go and fight on the lines.” He said to Magnus, “At the inn in town you can register for the militia.”

Magnus nodded.

Madame Siddall wrung her hands while holding her apron still . “But… theirclothes, Master Siddall, if they were seen!”

I bowed my head. “If I had a place to wash up, Madame Siddall, I could be more presentable.”

Master Siddall said, “Show her through to the washbasin, Marnie — do as you are told. They will sleep in John-John’s room, he can bunk with his brothers for the night.”

Her eyes went wide. “But Master Siddall, we cannot put them in the house! Eliza is close to her time, this is too much turmoil.”

Anger flashed across his face. “Marnie, you must listen to what I say. They will sleep in the barn, that is the end of it.”

I glanced at Magnus and he raised his brow, but didn’t say a word.

His wife said, “Of course, Master Siddall.” She dropped her apron and turned on her heel. “Follow me, Madame… remind me your surname?”

I said, “Campbell.”

She stalked into the house and I followed her in.

She looked very uncomfortable, perhaps rightly so, I was a stranger after all and a mess, on top of a dress that was outlandishly overly decorated in embroidery on maroon.

Thankfully the blood marks on the skirt looked like dirt, but I was filthy. She directed me toward a basin with a pitcher of water beside it for washing my face, hands, and arms. There was soap beside it, and a cloth that looked as if it had been used to dry off a few people before me.

She stood to the side and watched.

It made me incredibly nervous to wash up in front of her — did I know how to wash myself correctly for colonial standards?

I poured water over my hands, sudsed and lathered up my arms, keeping my draping sleeves away as best I could. Then I leaned over the bowl and splashed and scrubbed all over my face with stinging soap, then quickly rinsed it off.

With wet hands I smoothed back my hair to tame it, pulling the hair band off, removing the couple of silver hair pins that were left, and putting my hair all back up in a low bun. I hoped it looked better.

I glanced at Madame Siddall, she was watching me, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

I dabbed at my skin with the towel, drying off.

Madame Siddall said, “Thou needs better dress.”

I nodded. “I do, I need… I need better dress… and thank you for taking us in.” My stomach growled.

This seemed like a perfect time for her to give me something to eat, but instead she just stated, “Thou hast bruises. Did the man you are traveling with do it to you? He ought to know better than bruising your face, it gives one a disagreeable look.”

“No, it wasn’t the man I was traveling with, it was another man.”

She huffed. “Thou ought not travel with such men.”

My stomach growled. I wondered where Magnus was.

She said, “Thou needs some clothes,” and began walking down a dim hallway to a back room.

---