by Fiona Faris
Lavinia‘s eyes shone with tears at the sad tale.
"You love him."
"That doesna make me a good sister," Rebecca whispered.
Lavinia sighed and tried to change the topic.
"Do you know what's wrong with him?"
"How the bloody hell would I ken what's wrong with him? Does it look like I can afford a sawbones to look at him?"
"I'm sorry." Lavinia soothed.
At that moment, Alexander let out a hacking cough, just as it started to rain.
"Oh bollocks." Rebecca groaned.
Lavinia tried not to react to Rebecca’s words, not used to foul language.
Alexander coughed again, distracting them both.
"Listen. Rebecca. You need to find somewhere to go. You and your brother can't stay out here."
"Where am I meant tae go?" She gestured to all the other homeless people sitting on the road. "If there was shelter, do ye think there'd be this many damn beggars out here?"
"Come home with me." Lavinia seemed surprised at her own words.
Rebecca’s head shot up.
"What?"
Lavinia gulped but did not retract her offer. "I said come home with me."
"I heard ye... but... what?"
"You can come to stay at my house."
"Why would ye let two strangers into yer house? Ye don’t ken us."
"I know you need help..."
Rebecca looked at her quizzically.
"Don't worry about it. I can't just leave you out here."
"Are... ye certain?"
"Yes. But only on one condition."
"Yes, Miss Fredrick...?"
"You have to stay in the cellar."
"What?"
"I live with my parents. And my mother would be far from pleased to know I let a..."
"Beggar." Rebecca added helpfully.
"Yes. In her house."
"Well... of course. Thank ye. Thank ye so much."
"It’s okay. Now come on."
"Wait!" Rebecca put her hand out. "Only if Alexander comes!"
"Well of course? What did you think? I was going to leave him alone? What kind of person do you take me for?"
“ I'm sorry... it’s just..."
Lavinia shook her head.
"There's no need to explain to me. Are you coming or not?" She helped them to their feet, supporting Alexander on one side as Rebecca supported him on the other.
"Let's find my coach and you two can get clean. I will fetch you both some food. Then tomorrow I will see if I can find out what's wrong with Alexander."
"Thank ye. Thank ye so much, Miss."
"Please Rebecca. Call me Lavinia."
Rebecca turned her head where she was leaning it against the wall and looked at Emily. “It wasn’t the salvation we thought it was.”
“What happened?”
“It turned out that Lavinia did not exactly ‘live with her mother’.”
“Who did she live with?”
Rebecca swallowed. “A madam, one who thought that there was a market for a brother and sister act.”
“A brother and sister act for what?”
Rebecca gave her a look. “It was a brothel she took us to.”
“What’s a broth-…oh!” Emily’s face colored.
“It was lucky that Alexander was sick, for they had to return him to some ‘semblance of health before they could peddle us to the customers. They fed us and called a healer to take a look at Alexander, got him on his feet again. But to buy us time, he pretended to be sicker than he was.”
“Ye must escape. He said to me and I did not know why he thought that I would leave him.”
“Ye must get out of here, find a way out.”
“I won’t leave you,” I replied and settled myself to stay with him.
“If ye do not get out, they will sell our bodies. Do ye want that?”
“Of course, I didn’t want that; for either of us. But he kept at me until I said that I would go for help. I would come back for him. He nodded, to placate me, but I knew he thought that I would go and never return.”
“What did you do?”
“I shall tell you.”
It was difficult to think coherently, Rebecca was so hungry. She had been running for days. All she had were fleeting, random impressions; as if her senses were breaking down.
The coppery taste of blood was in her mouth – she had fallen onto the cobblestones and cut open her lip - the burning hot sun on her back – her clothes were torn - the foul smell of the alleyway where she had been hiding while she tried to think of how to save her brother.
She had been set upon by a gang of street boys looking for anything of value she might have on her. Her sight was obscured by sweat and blood, so she kept her eyes closed. It gave her some distance from what was happening and slowly she began to drift, hoping for the beating to come to an end.
A well-placed kick to the back jolted her back to reality. Her eyes snapped open and the pain returned full force. The boys responsible surrounded her, ugly sneers on their faces.
"Wake up, my lovely. Come on, and give us what yer got," the leader said.
The other boys roared with laughter.
It had been at least a week since Rebecca had escaped from the cellar. She had been watching the brothel, waiting for an opportunity to steal back in and liberate her brother. This morning she had been dragged away by this group of boys and struck several times on the face and ears for sport. She had lost track of time.
Alexander blended with the shadows as he lurked at the entrance. The torches used to light the place after sunset was now mostly extinguished—except for the room just beyond, where the patrons waited.
This was supposed to be Alexander’s first night on the floor; now that they were certain that he was well. The escape of his sister had earned him a beating and that had set back his recovery. He could not be presented to the patrons with his face swollen with bruises.
But the bruises had gone down and he was to earn his keep.
The torches flickered eerily, their warm orange glow providing no heat. Beyond the walls, the wind howled, rattling the windows as if a prisoner was trying to escape. It was an icy night; the type of chill that froze your bones until daybreak. Alexander shuddered as he pulled his stolen bedspread up against his ears like a poor man’s cloak.
He had perhaps five minutes in which to get from where he was to the doorway. Five minutes before his minder returned from taking a piss. He still felt weak and unsteady but knew he would have to run once he had managed to make it out of the door. Dropping the bedspread, he sidled along the wall, keeping to the shadows. There was a huge man standing in front of the doorway he would have to get past. Picking up a vase that was sitting on a dais in an alcove, he threw it down the hallway. The shattering sound glass had the big man peering down the corridor but he did not move from his post. Alexander gritted his teeth in frustration.
A drunken patron and his giggling woman for the night came staggering down the hallway. He tripped himself up over his own feet and fell crashing to the floor, the woman falling on top of him.
They must have landed right in the middle of the glass as the woman immediately began to scream in pain. The guard quickly moved away from the door to help them. Seizing his moment, Alexander darted out of the door and began running as if his life depended upon it.
The street boys were arguing about what to do with Rebecca as she did not have anything on her person worth stealing.
“Maybe we should keep ‘er, she’d make a good whore once we fatten ‘er up a bit.”
The others were not so eager to add another mouth to feed to their ragtag group. They were startled when one of them suddenly fell to the floor, his head bleeding. By the time the third boy was on the ground, the others realized that they were under attack. They scattered like the street rats they were as Alexander picked Rebecca off the ground and staggered away with her.
They had to get out of Edinburgh fas
t, and took the road south to Newburn.
Emily had been sitting intently throughout the story, stirred restlessly. “What was the point of that story?”
Rebecca took a deep breath. “Ye think we have some sort of natural affinity for pain and suffering. That we are unfazed by all this that is going on because of some innate Scottish hardihood? Well its nae true. The things we have been through, ye can’t imagine.”
“That is not my fault.”
“Of course, it’s not. That is not what I am saying.”
“Then what are you saying, Rebecca?”
“I am saying that we have been through worse than this, and survived. I am saying that being attacked by bandits or finding snakes in our home is…nothing to cry about.”
“For you perhaps, but I am not you. I have not lived this…eventful a life.”
“Indeed, ye have not. But is it possible for ye to try and…refrain from the hysterics at every little thing?”
Emily opened her mouth to protest but stopped. Perhaps she should try to look at it from Rebecca’s point of view. It must seem that she complained about every little thing when she reacted so vocally.
“I'm sorry. I did not mean to be so much trouble.”
Rebecca reached out and clasped her hand. “Ye are no trouble, my dear. But a wife is to be a help to her husband. Could ye try a little bit?”
Emily nodded. “Of course, I'm trying my best.”
“That’s all I ask. Now, what is this about needing clothes?”
Emily laughed. “I was trying to find something old and threadbare to wear, suitable for dusting and sweeping. My trousseau does not contain anything like that. My mother chose my gowns for receiving people in the drawing room, not clearing stones out of it.”
Rebecca chuckled. “I suppose they could not have imagined that your home would look like this?”
“We have not been back here since I was a child. This property belonged to my uncle.”
“Ah, that would explain it. Come let me lend you one of my petticoats and apron. They are much more suited to this kind of activity, though you are much taller than I am. You don't mind if your ankle shows do you?”
Rebecca shook her head covering her mouth to disguise the giggle that was trying to escape. “I expect I shall manage.”
Rebecca nodded with a tight-lipped smile, before turning to go to her own luggage, pulling out a calico gown, as well as an apron and a wimple. “Do you need help putting it on?”
Emily shook her head shyly. “That’s alright thank you so much for your help. And as for the story, it makes me understand you both a lot better.”
Rebecca smile widened became more genuine. “Och, I have plenty more stories. Tis a favorite past time for us Scots.”
“Well, I look forward to hearing them.”
“Now come let us go and see what we can do about snakes. With Alexander injured it is up to us to make sure he does not over exhert himself.”
Emily looped a hand around Rebecca’s arm. “Have you ever killed a snake?”
“To be honest I have never even seen one.”
Chapter Fourteen
They came up to the manor house to find the crofters milling about in uproar. Amos was in the middle of them trying to quiet them down as Alexander sat on the banister looking on.
“What’s going on?” Emily tried not to look fearful.
Alexander did not turn to face her but continued to watch the crofters thoughtfully. “They are afraid of getting between us and those bandits. So, they are using the presence of the snakes as an excuse to complain.”
“They want to leave?” Rebecca’s voice was higher than normal with annoyance.
“Yes, I think that is the crux of the debate. However, it is disguised as arguments about whether or not the snakes are venomous.”
“D-do w-we k-know how t-to get rid of them? The snakes?” Emily was giving her best attempt at being brave, but she could not help that her voice shook.
Alexander turned to face her with a smile. “I expect the snakes came in search of rats and stayed for the relative warmth. I hear their meat is quite delicious.”
“W-what?” Emily’s eyes paled, wide open in shock.
Alexander's shoulders shook in silent laughter. “Tis but a jest, never fear.”
Emily narrowed her eyes. “That is all well and good, but we still have snakes in our residence.”
“We shall lure them out with promises of food and then kill them.”
“Lure them out, where?”
Alexander sighed. “It will depend whether we are dealing with adders or one of the other less dangerous species.”
“Adders?” Emily could not help a single squeak of fear.
Alexander reached out and squeezed her hand much to the girls’ surprise. “Do not worry your little head about it wife. I shall take care of it.”
Emily and Rebecca exchanged glances. “No, you won't. You will have to stay off your feet for now.”
Alexander raised an eyebrow. “Are you ordering me about wife?”
Emily put her hand to her hip. “If that is what it takes for you to rest your leg.”
The man smiled as he lifted up his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever ye say my lady wife.”
Rebecca clapped. “This is excellent. Now I shall go and sort out this argument.” and marched off determinedly towards the gathered men.
“Godspeed to them,” Alexander murmured, sharing an amused glance with Emily.
For the first time, Emily felt like she was part of their family.
The women were supposed to come and help with the cleaning but with the discovery of snakes, their husbands had squashed the idea.
“Now what will we do?”
“Well the first thing we do is light up the manor. Eliminate all the dark corners. Then we shall have to get rid of the rodents, eliminate their food source. Once they come out we will need to seal any holes they used to get into the house.”
Emily sighed. “That does not seem like the work of one day.”
“No, it isna. But we can do it. And the longer we take the longer Alexander has to rest. We will have him on guard duty and give him a chair to sit in whilst we clean. And maybe the crofters will see that we are not afraid and will feel ashamed enough to allow their wives to help us.”
“A great plan.” Emily grinned. “I like it.”
Alexander was worried about Emily. He could see that whatever she and Rebecca had spoken about had eased her mind considerably, but she was still more of a liability than an asset, and he was prepared for her next tantrum. This marriage was going to be the biggest regret of his life.
Emily was not built for this. She had not been brought up to cook and clean, let alone clear out a crumbling house. The manor might have been the biggest place he and Rebecca had ever stayed in, but to Emily it would be the worst kind of hovel.
Alexander had expected that she would have run away again by now. Perhaps she was hindered by the distance from her home and not having any one to help her.
He tried not to think about her tossing and turning every night on the floor of the croft. Her discomfort was a source of disturbance to his rest. His first order of business after the second night they had spent in the croft had been to commission her a feather mattress on which to lay her head.
He was already negotiating with Amos to have one made by the local seamstress in return for a haunch of venison when Alexander next went hunting on his land. It gave him a thrill to be able to say that, as well as being a source of comfort for having something with which to negotiate with the local villagers.
He was already receiving deputations from the village shop owners who wanted to establish ties with him early on, as the potentially richest man in the village. It was a position he was unused to; being able to negotiate for shovels, flint, oil, buckets to carry water from the well, a wheelbarrow or two, brooms, cooking utensils and other pertinent household goods. They were no longer living on the bare minimum, bu
t it was nowhere close to the luxury that Emily was used to.
She was his wife and he was supposed to provide for her comfort regardless of what he thought of her soft headedness. She could not help how she was raised, and it had been his choice to wed her and not report her to her parents when she ran away with that nyaff, Philip Bristol.
