First lessons

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First lessons Page 6

by Lina J. Potter


  ***

  Jess Earton—true earl, handsome devil, and warrior to boot—looked down at his sobbing child. He was lost as to what to do.

  “Precious, don’t cry. Sweetheart…”

  The little girl cried even harder.

  “Miranda Catherine Earton, stop the bawling this instant!”

  It didn’t help. In between blowing her nose and sobbing, the girl managed to say, “You’re leaving me here, abandoning me.”

  Jess passed his hand through his hair. He adored his daughter. The six-year-old knew it and had him wrapped around her little finger. He had no choice, though. He couldn’t take her with him. He would be busy with work, balls, tournaments, and intrigue. How can I take a child with me if I don’t even know where I’ll be sleeping at night?

  When he suggested she stay with Lilian, Miranda became hysterical. It sounded like she might be choking. Jess was afraid, so he gave in. “Sweetie, you just have to stay at Earton over the winter. I’ll come get you in the spring, all right?”

  He didn’t mention that at that moment, it was only the end of summer. Miranda kept crying, anyway. It took a long time to calm her down.

  While he held her, in his mind, he composed a letter to Lilian. He had no love for his wife and considered her stupid and unpredictable, but he knew she wouldn’t hurt the girl. His letter would warn her and maybe even frighten her a little. In the meantime, he tried to soothe his daughter.

  Chapter 3

  Threats and Promises

  It was around noon when Martha came in, and Aliya was doing squats in the middle of the room. She had just started, but she was already sweaty, and her knees ached.

  “What in the world are you doing, Lily?” her nanny gasped.

  Aliya grinned at her. “Nanny, dear, order a bath for me and find something for me to wear. It’s time to get out of bed!”

  “Lily, the doctor said…”

  “He’d better keep his distance from me if he wants to stay healthy. Nanny, I’ll lose my mind if I stay in bed another day. I’ve been self-absorbed for too long. How about that bath?”

  Martha shook her head but didn’t argue. She left without saying a word.

  ***

  By the time she returned, Aliya had completed twenty squats, twenty lunges, forty jumping-jacks and thirty sit-ups. In her previous life, a routine like that would have been easy, but in this body, it was another story. She felt like she’d been hauling bags of cement all day.

  Her plan was to repeat the exercise routine three times a day for three days. After that, she would increase the intensity of the routine every three days. It would be hard, but she knew she could do hard.

  After her bath, she opened the curtain and followed her nanny into the closet, where she had never been before. After all, she had been hiding out in a roomy nightgown since she woke up. When she saw the inside of the closet, she burst out with “Holy fukalite!”

  She had picked up that phrase in medical school. It got the job done and had the added benefit of being safe to say in case there was a professor in the room. If anyone had asked, Aliya would have explained that fukalite was a mineral made up of calcium, oxygen, and silicon.

  Aliya couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her closet was a room the size of her bedroom back home, and it was full of the most luxurious, beautifully made dresses—silk, brocade, lace, satin, velvet.

  And all of them—down to the very last one—were pink and gold. It was enough to make a saint swear.

  Aliya looked around the room and pointed at the plainest of the dresses. She silently resolved to find a dressmaker to remove all the gold bows and ribbons from the rest of the garments. She could do it herself, but she didn’t think she could keep her sanity in the process.

  Aliya knew how to sew, knit and embroider, and she even knew how to work with beads. She was fairly good at crafts, but she had no intention of wasting her time on things like that. There were too many other more important things for her to do in this new world.

  The simplest of the dresses was modest, with a high neckline and three rows of gold ruffles around the hem. To Aliya’s surprise, the fabric was plain linen.

  All would have been well, but Martha informed her that she would need three crinolines underneath the dress. “But Lily, you can’t go out without crinolines! The priest would call you a loose woman!”

  She would also have to wear cotton pants with a slit in a very interesting location, an undershirt covered with cheap lace that ended up poking out through the slit in her pants, and yet another undershirt made of something that looked like cambric.

  Aliya refused the thick wool stockings her nanny offered and slipped her bare feet into shoes made of soft, pink leather. At least the shoes are bearable. They tied with ribbons, and since she had taken up dance many years ago, she knew she would get used to them. A mere two hours later, Aliya was ready to go out. She felt like a big, pink cabbage…or a Brussel sprout. Oh hell, nobody’s looking anyway!

  The doors to her room swung open and ushered Aliya into the dark, dusty hallway. At that moment, Aliya decided to start the way her mother always started when they moved into a new place: with a big, spring-cleaning. She would have the castle cleaned from top to bottom, and during the process, she would learn the faces of everyone who worked there and teach them how she wanted them to do their jobs. She was in charge of this place—at least while her husband was away—and she intended to be the boss. The knowledge she had picked up while reading in bed would come in handy.

  ***

  Aliya threw open the door to the kitchen and smiled sweetly at the servants sitting around the table. The four women and seven men were having a terrific time drinking wine out of large glasses, laughing, and gossiping. She had seen three of the men before when they brought in her tub and hot water. The others were strangers.

  All of them were up to no good, of that much she was sure. Aliya knew just how much work was needed to clean a small apartment; in a castle this size, there shouldn’t be time to sit around telling jokes. One of the men had his hands all over the knees of the woman sitting next to him. Aliya wondered if she was responsible for paying for family leave when her servant girls got pregnant. She would have to find out.

  Aliya took a deep breath and barked, “You idle, good-for-nothing, time-wasting freeloaders! Did you think I was too fancy to come down here? You were wrong!”

  She scanned the servants’ faces. The oldest woman was probably the cook. The only man dressed in a color other than pink (he was wearing blue) was most likely the Comptroller. She could tell by the young girls’ faces that they were chambermaids. The girl whose knee had a man’s hand on it was blushing. If she got any redder, her cap would burst into flames. The three young men with hay in their hair and a barnyard stench about them must be the grooms. The others were house servants.

  Aliya was sorry she didn’t know any of their names, but she wouldn’t let that stop her. She could get to know them while giving them an earful. “You’ve let things go while I was ill, but I’m back on my feet, and I don’t like what I see. This place is covered with dirt, dust and spider webs. We have enough spiders in here to start selling silk. Now, you three grooms, get up!”

  The boys leaped to their feet.

  “You’re lucky to still have your jobs for today. By tomorrow, I want the stables to shine. Haul out the manure, get rid of the spider webs and brush down all the horses. I’ll check your work tomorrow, and if you don’t do it right, you’ll be cleaning each horse’s ass with your own gossiping tongue. Now get out of here!”

  She ““turned to the cook. “My dear, I don’t like your kitchen for the same reasons. The pots aren’t washed, the tables are covered with crumbs, and you let the servants hang out in here drinking my wine and doing God knows what else.” She turned back to the servants. “And you there, with the pie-face. Get your lecherous hand off that girl’s knee before I rip it off along with your head.”

  The man’s name was Jean, and t
he girl of “easy virtue,” was Mary. He blushed and snatched his hand away. Aliya sneered at him and looked back at the object of his affections, “Honey,” she said in a poisonously sweet voice, “you and the cook will be busy in the kitchen today. You have until this evening to get the dishes sparkling and clean out the ovens. And you,” she pointed at another servant girl, “will clean out the fireplaces in the whole house. I want them all clean as a whistle, just like the conscience of our Comptroller here.”

  Judging by how the Comptroller twitched when she said that, his conscience was none too clean. Aliya decided to leave him for dessert.

  She turned back to the cook. “I will not let you turn my home into a brothel.” She hit all the right notes like she meant it. “If I ever see something like this again, you’ll be out of a job.” She looked back at the floor. “Sweep out this straw and make the floor shine. Don’t bother making lunch today, and just make something simple for dinner. I don’t want any more of these twelve-course meals.”

  She turned to two chambermaids, “You two, grab your buckets and rags and follow me. You’ll be cleaning all the rooms in the castle, starting with my room. And you can re-clean everything you supposedly cleaned yesterday. I’ve seen how lazy you are. We’ll need one man to go with us. You’ll be bringing water from the well for these ladies to clean with. Heat it here in the kitchen in the largest pot.”

  “Get some firewood!” the cook shouted at the man.

  “Go get it yourself,” Aliya replied. “It won’t kill you. Otherwise, you’re out of here tomorrow morning.”

  “My Lady,” she heard someone say in a timid voice. It was the Comptroller. He had been sitting quietly through Aliya’s tirade but felt he had to say something when his wife was threatened. “Your husband instructed me that during his absence…”

  Aliya turned to face him. She was a large woman now, and she intended to use her size to good effect. “Did you interrupt me?” Her voice slithered like a snake through the leaves. If I bite you, there isn’t enough anti-venom in this whole world to save you!

  “Since you are the Comptroller,” she continued, “you can give me a detailed explanation of how the estate has sunk to this level. I have been too lenient with you, and my husband does not have time to watch your every move. I want to see you in the office. Bring all your reports for the past year—everything you’ve bought and sold, crops, supplies, everything. Is that clear?”

  The Comptroller swallowed nervously and said nothing, which was smart. One wrong word from him and Aliya would have hit him over the head with a pot—not in anger, just to teach him a lesson.

  She was the boss, and her word was the law. Anyone who had a problem with that or voiced doubt about her authority would have his head handed to him…instantly. So, the Comptroller was wise to keep his mouth shut. Even thieves have an instinct for self-preservation.

  Aliya suddenly realized she had a big problem. She didn’t know the prices for anything or how much she was paying the servants. Martha couldn’t be much help—she had served Lilian her whole life and was almost a member of the family. She had never had a family of her own.

  “Nanny, dear, are there any people in the village who aren’t local? People who have traveled?”

  Martha rubbed her forehead and replied that there was one woman named Emma Mattie who fit that description. She was the widow of the former Comptroller of the estate. She was from the city and knew a bit about life.

  Aliya rubbed her hands together. That was exactly the person she needed. If the woman had been married to the estate Comptroller, then she couldn’t be a fool. Or could she? It was too early to say.

  “Nanny, how can I invite her to come talk with me?”

  Martha thought for a moment and offered to run into the village. Aliya pondered the idea and decided to risk it. “Nanny, the servants can do the cleaning without us. Why don’t I go into the village with you to see the Widow Mattie?”

  “But Lily, why would you—” Martha began to object out of habit, but Aliya stopped her with a raised hand.

  “I just need to. Let’s go.”

  “Should I order the carriage?”

  Martha left, and Aliya glanced around at the servants again. She wondered if she should say a few words before she left. Of course, I should!

  “If any of you suppose that I’ll forget what I’ve told you to do and that you can go back to your little games while I’m gone, be warned. I’ll fire you without severance pay in a heartbeat.” She realized that she was talking over their heads and corrected her error. “In other words, I’ll lock you all in the stable! And I’ll whip you for laziness! Is that clear?”

  She really did sound like a commander. Aliya laughed to herself. I’ll teach you to clean your boots in the evenings and put them on quick in the mornings.

  She found it interesting that not a one of them seemed to think her behavior was strange.

  Martha touched her elbow. Before she left, Aliya informed the servants that she would have them cleaning the floors with their tongues if they didn’t hurry up.

  ***

  Outside the front door, stood a piglet-pink carriage with gold trim. It was a rectangular wooden box on wheels, with nothing even reminiscent of shock absorbers. The windows were covered with something that looked like parchment and framed with pink curtains. That makes sense. If they don’t have a good way to make glass, they won't waste it on carriage windows.

  The four horses looked so tired that Aliya felt truly sorry for them. She loved horses and decided to give each of them a professional exam. Her discoveries were alarming.

  “Why doesn’t this horse have proper shoes?”

  Two of the horses were each missing one horseshoe, the third had an abscess on its neck, and the fourth was breathing hard like it had a cold.

  The groom, who was also the coachman, mumbled something about a hard life and some bad weather. Aliya measured him with a steely gaze. “Where is the nearest blacksmith?”

  It turned out that the blacksmith worked in the village. They didn’t have one at the castle. One more errand to run. She also wanted to buy herbs so she could put together some basic remedies. She wondered if there were any healers in the village.

  With a sigh, Aliya turned to climb into the carriage. That was easier said than done. The carriage sat on wheels as high as her waist, and she couldn’t lift her leg high enough to get in. Martha ran over carrying a stool. Somehow, Aliya shoved her body into the carriage, almost leaving her dress hanging on the door.

  I absolutely have to get in shape.

  Martha wanted to ride up front with the coachman, but Aliya waved her into the carriage. Her nanny was afraid to sit on the pink and gold velvet seat, but Aliya pulled her down.

  “Stop being silly, Nanny.”

  “It isn’t fitting for me…”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re closer to me than anyone else in this world, so I say it’s fitting.”

  Martha grumbled something about undeserved honors, but Aliya just threw an arm around her neck and kissed her cheek. “Nanny, you mean more to me than my own mother.”

  ***

  For the first time ever, Aliya left the bounds of her castle and took in the sights of the surrounding countryside. There was plenty to see. If she had had a choice, she wouldn’t take this earldom for free. She wouldn’t take it even if they paid her. From the outside, Earton Castle looked worse than it did inside. Its stone walls were crooked and losing chunks of mortar. The moat was dry, and the bridge looked like it would fall apart if anyone tried to raise it.

  What if there was a war? What if the castle was attacked by enemies or bandits? How exactly is this castle supposed to protect them? She doubted she now lived in a nation of pacifists. There was no army to speak of, no telephones, and the 911 dispatcher hadn’t been invented yet. She was on her own. She would have to clean the inside of the castle and then reinforce its defenses outside.

  But how? I have no idea, but I’ll start somewhere an
d see where it takes me. Aliya smiled inwardly. There was no reason to upset Martha with her new plans yet.

  Since shock absorbers hadn’t been invented yet, Aliya felt every bump in the road, which was not much of a road to start with, even by Russian standards.

  People say that Russia doesn’t have roads, it just has trails. Earton doesn’t have roads or trails. It has wheel ruts. Some of the wheel ruts are deeper than others, but none of them rise to the status of a trail.

  Aliya stuck her head out the window for some fresh air and promised herself that she would invent some kind of open carriage. She saw fields, pastures, and forests, but best of all, she saw a river. According to Martha’s stories, Earton Castle stood about a mile from a wide river with lots of fish in it. Aliya had her heart set on salting, drying and smoking lots of fish. She knew a million ways to do it. Even plain old carp can be a dish for a king if you know what to do with it!

  It took them three hours to bounce, rattle and skid their way into the village, which gave her enough time to recall everything she ever knew about farming. She remembered something about three-field rotation, but she would need to find out what the local soil was like and what tools were available for working it.

  Aliya wasn’t afraid to get dirty. As a military brat, she had spent her whole life moving from one base to another. Wherever they ended up, her mother had always started a garden. Tatiana liked growing her own fresh produce, and the economic hardships of perestroika had convinced her that gardening was a wise use of time. She raised her daughter with the same beliefs. As a result, Aliya could study the lunar calendar in a garden almanac and not think she was reading Chinese. Where do I get a garden almanac around here? And what if their moon is different? What grains do they grow?

  Aliya could have written a thick book on making dinner out of next to nothing, conserving fruits and vegetables for the winter, and producing your own spirits at home. Her mother had always made such aromatic liqueurs using herbs and berries that even the generals had looked forward to trying.

 

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