As he spoke, she woke, stretched, and began to wriggle.“Pipi, pipi!”she said urgently.
Her second word, and he had no idea what she meant.
She continued to struggle, pushing at his coat as if trying to get out.
“Pipi?”he repeated to Tessa with a bemused look.
“Does she want to relieve herself?”she suggested.
“Oh.Right.Come on, Blossom, let’s pop you down.”Keeping her firmly in his embrace, Marcus swung down from his horse and set her on the side of the road.She took two steps into the grass, then squatted down and relieved herself.
“What a good girl,” Tessa said in a warmly congratulatory tone.
Marcus glanced at her, bemused.“Why?It’s a natural process.”
Tessa grinned.“Yes, but she could have done it all over you.She’s very young, after all.”
“Oh.”Marcus blinked.“Yes, right, good girl, Blossom.Verygood girl.”
The child, having finished, jiggled her bottom, then held up her arms to be picked up.Gingerly, Marcus lifted her and passed her to Tessa who, laughing, took the child from him.
He mounted, Tessa passed her back, and Marcus settled her again in his coat, shutting his mind to any potential dampness.It could have been much worse, he told himself.
“At least we know she can speak—that’s two words now,” he remarked as they set off again.
#
TWILIGHT WAS FALLINGand they were still a good distance from Genappe where they’d arranged to meet Tomas and their carriage.“Let’s see if we can find an auberge or an inn in the next village—somewhere to spend the night,” Marcus said.“This little one is tired, and I think you are too.And I don’t want to travel in the dark—after years of war, poverty will be rife here, and we don’t want to become a target for desperate people.”
Tessa nodded wearily.She was indeed tired.It had been a very emotional day; first visiting the site of the battle where her brother had died, then encountering the ghoulish souvenir sellers, and then letting go the grief she’d bottled up for so long.And finally, the drama of finding the neglected little girl.As well, it had been a long time since she had spent almost an entire day in the saddle.Her back ached and her spine wanted to droop.
Luckily at the next village, they found a small inn, shabby but clean looking.The outside area had been swept clean and there were pots of bright geraniums on either side of the door.
“Wait here.I’ll enquire within,” Marcus said and dismounted, the child still snuggled under his coat.
He came back a few minutes later with a motherly-looking woman and a young boy of around ten or eleven, who swiftly moved to the horses’ heads.Tessa dismounted in a weary slide, and the woman, clucking sympathetically, hurried to usher her inside and up the stairs to a small but clean bedchamber—just a large bed, a small table, a wooden settle and a row of pegs behind the door on which to hang clothes.
Marcus gave the landlady a string of orders in French, and when she’d hurried away, he explained, “I asked her for a bath, hot water, and food, including bread and some milk.Is there anything else we’ll need?”
She shook her head.“I don’t know.I’ve never had much to do with babies.I suppose we’ll learn as we go along.”
In a short time a sturdy young girl of about sixteen arrived with a tin bath in one hand and a large can of hot water in the other.She dumped them in front of the fireplace, swiftly bent to light the fire, which had already been set, and hurried away, explaining she’d bring more water and soap for madame shortly, and that Tante Jeanne would bring food up soon.And that her name was Clothilde.
Marcus still had the child bundled in his coat.The bulge had been given a few odd glances, but nobody had asked.
Once the extra hot water and soap had arrived, and Clothilde had left, Marcus unwrapped the little girl.“Is that water hot enough?”he asked Tessa.
“It’s not terribly hot, but I think that’s a good thing for babies,” she said, swishing the soap around to make some suds.
“Let’s get her in, then.”
It took a few minutes to strip the noisome rags from her, almost glued on to her skinny little body.Some they had to dampen to loosen.She was so thin her ribs stuck out.
“Poor little plucked chicken,” Marcus muttered.
He gently slipped the little girl into the bath, and she reacted with initial anxiety and then, after a minute, with cautious pleasure, dipping her fingers into the warm water and trying to catch the soap suds.Tessa soaped the little body thoroughly and the dirt came off in streams.
Her hair, though was another matter—matted with knots and leaves and God-only-knew-what caught in it.After unsuccessfully trying to ease some of the tangles out—much to the displeasure of the little girl who wriggled and resisted—Tessa sat back on her heels and shook her head.“I don’t know how we’re going to clean her hair.”
