‘Please accept my most humble apologies, Mrs. Parsons,’ Anthony hurriedly cut in. ‘I freely admit that I’ve been entirely neglectful of my appearance and given no thought to the distress it might cause you. But you may rest assured of my intention to change matters forthwith. George will provide you with our soiled clothing – naturally I would not expect you to wash them without recompense - and then we will both take a bath tomorrow.’
George froze. ‘Now ‘ang on a minute,’ she started, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.
Her employer held up his hand, and she ground to a halt. ‘No complaints, George,’ he barked, evidently keen to impress upon his housekeeper that he meant business. ‘There’s a tin bath in the stable. Drag it round to the well and see it gets filled.’
‘But it’ll be bloo- … freezing,’ George spluttered, dread coursing through her.
‘Good for the soul,’ Anthony retorted unsympathetically. ‘And it’s hardly cold outside.’
‘I have some soap,’ Mrs Parsons chimed in, clearly mollified by her employer’s words. ‘I’ll make sure to bring it with me in the morning.’
‘Mrs. Parsons, you’re a wonder.’ Anthony gave the housekeeper his best disarming smile - which on this particular occasion George would have given her left arm to have wiped off his bloody face.
∞∞∞
‘I reckon one more day’ll see it done,’ commented Will in a rare full sentence.
‘The pointin’s not ‘alf as bad as we feared,’ added Luke. ‘Roof was the worst. But if any water gets through it now, I’m a bloody lud.’
‘Thank you, gentlemen. I couldn’t have done it without you. I owe you both a tankard of ale when I’m back in Blackmore.’
‘Aye, ye do that,’ grinned Luke. ‘An mebbe more ‘an one.’ He shook his head. ‘Right then, Will, let’s get this bloody job over an’ done wi’. Them fields won’ plough ‘emsens.’
Anthony watched as both men began to plug the holes in the grey stone walls. The house was very slowly beginning to look like a home. It was still lacking furniture, but George had done a good job cleaning the downstairs, and once he’d finished the first floor, it would be time to look at repairingthe inside. He could hear the lad banging and clattering through the open windows, with the occasional, ‘bloody hell, Nelson.’ The dog had clearly taken a shine to the boy - likely because the hound spent every night sharing the lad’s bed. George obviously believed it their secret.
Anthony shook his head and made a mental note to check the mattress for fleas. Then, he chuckled to himself as he remembered George’s face when told he’d got to have a bath. Anyone would think the boy was allergic to water. But Mrs. Parsons was right. They did stink. He just hadn’t realised how much until the housekeeper brought it up. Still, she’d taken the pile of dirty laundry, and if he had to drag George to the bathtub kicking and screaming, so be it.
∞∞∞
George’s banging and clattering was not so much out of zeal but temper. Every mattress she thumped and every inch of floor she slapped water on; she imagined it to be her employer’s thick scull. She was actually surprised at her inclination towards violence, though underneath it all, she knew it was really fear.
The bathtub was enormous. If she filled it as Anthony asked, she could bloody well drown. Not to mention the fact that just carrying that much water might be enough to have her pushing up bleeding daisies.
But if she didn’t fill it up to the top and Anthony saw her, he would immediately know she was a girl.
No, not a girl. A woman.
George felt her heart clench with dread. Would he throw her out? Mayhap he’d think her a lightskirt? She clenched her hands and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out her lurid imaginings.
‘George!’
Panic threatened to swamp her. She glanced out of the window and sure enough the sun was beginning to cast longer shadows. Swallowing, she took some deep breaths in an effort to regain her composure.
‘Wot’s the worst ‘e can do?’ she muttered to herself, picking up the bucket. He couldn’tforceher to have a bath. And anyway, if she took her time, just filling the bloody thing might take her until full dark. And then he wouldn’t be able to see her anyway.
Satisfied she had at least a vague plan, she stepped out onto the landing. Then, ignoring the queasiness in her stomach, she made her way back downstairs.
Anthony was nowhere to be seen when she entered the kitchen, and she had no intention of going to look for him. Instead, she opened the kitchen door and took the bucket outside to dispose of the filthy water. He’d already moved the bath. It sat next to the well, a huge contraption of doom.
‘George?’ his voice came again, this time louder and definitely testier.
Rapidly losing patience with the entire world, she dropped the bucket into the grass and stomped round to the front of the house. ‘What now?’ she yelled, only to stop as she spied Will and Luke preparing to leave.
‘I thought you’d wish to say goodbye.’ Anthony’s tone was soft but cool. She winced, knowing he would most certainly take her to task for her rudeness as soon as they were alone.
Damn it, she needed to compose herself. ‘Forgive me,’ she murmured after a few seconds, surprised to discover she meant it. ‘I’m done to a cow’s thumb and in a dudgeon.’ She looked over at Will and Luke. ‘I’ll miss the pair o’yer,’ she confessed ruefully. ‘Mealtimes’ll be tedious without you.’ She ignored Anthony’s raised eyebrows.
‘Aye,’ muttered Will, clicking the reins and guiding the horse in a circle until they were facing the long driveway.
