Making a Tinderbox (The Tinderbox Tales Book 1)

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  Then she looked at Nessa and the older woman who looked so much like her. She had a feeling these were not people who made up convenient lies. Nor who looked on idly when the lies eventually broke and the truth spilled out. They were the kind who spoke the truth whenever possible, at least if Nessa’s uncomfortable lying to Macray had been anything to judge by. So Elise stood silently, preparing to explain that she was not going to lead Carryanne’s daughter astray.

  A man walked in from another room of the small, dark house. “Nessa? Carryanne? Is everything all right?”

  “That’s my father, Jon Clay,” Nessa said quietly.

  Her father turned out to be a tall man with broad shoulders that hunched forward a bit. He was nearly handsome in a rugged way, but Carryanne was certainly the more attractive parent, Elise decided, right before scolding herself for being so shallow.

  “Our daughter was just going to start explaining why she isn’t at Layden’s but standing here at the stroke of one with a lady in company instead,” Carryanne replied.

  For a moment, Jon merely gaped at Elisandrine. Discomfort rushed through her, making her adjust her footing in a fidgety way that her mother hated. She heard the echoes in her head. Stand still. Like a lady. Do not move about like a frightened child.

  Nessa held up her hands. “I’m sorry to bring company, especially someone Noble, to our house without warning you. I’m also sorry for the late hour and for lying to you. I just didn’t want you to worry because I was breaking into a castle to free a fair maiden.”

  Clearly her parents did not appreciate the jokey tone. They only stared at her and Elise sympathised with Nessa so much it ached.

  She saw Nessa’s chest move as she took a deep breath. Then Nessa told them everything that had happened, from when Elise had shouted out from the window to when they just knocked on the door. When she finished, her parents stared at her with what looked like worry. Or was it scepticism?

  Turning from Nessa to Elise, Jon bowed low.

  “Welcome to our home, humble as it may be. Had we known we would have such an important guest, we would have cleaned up, made repairs, and had the best of our food to offer you, milady.”

  Elise bowed back, even though that was not custom. “And if you had, the mood would probably have been more formal and we would all have been tense and nervous. I prefer this. Thank you for the welcome. I apologise for waking you.” She smiled as warmly as she could while pulling her shawl tighter against the icy wind that blew right through the house.

  The tall man noticed her actions. “Sorry about the cold. The roof is meant to be an attractive feature, but those little peaks it has leave barely visible crevices where the cold winds creep in. No matter how we try to seal it, it’s never enough. When we get the time, we will have to build a regular, boring roof. Like the ones my grandparents had. Not this attempt at fancy style that we all had to rebuild in when I was a child.”

  “New Dawning,” Elise said.

  He blinked at her. “Pardon?”

  “The style of building. It was called New Dawning and was meant to make houses here look different than the ones on the other continents. It was invented by the royal architects of Highmere, my father being one of them, about forty years ago. He told me all about it. The special, peaked roofs were meant to be attractive, yes. They were also meant to allow for small amounts of air to come in to make up for the lack of too expensive windows. My father always said that he wished there would have been enough capital for windows and making the houses out of less flammable materials instead.”

  Jon smiled. Was that a friendly smile or an impressed one? His face was so hard to read.

  “Milady is very kind. I’m sure that the building style you mentioned is what my father, who built this house, was aiming for. But he went a little overboard with the pretty peaks of the roof, and it lets in more air than it should. To counteract that, he covered the walls, though. These old planks might be worse for wear, but in here they are at least covered in good old mud, straw, and stoneflour. Making sturdy building clay.”

  “So your house is lined with clay and your name is Clay. What a coincidence.” Elise heard how vapid that sounded the second she said it. She groaned inwardly and hoped that the Clays neither thought her a moron nor that she was making jokes at their expense.

  Nessa chuckled. “No clay and mud jokes, please. Both me and dad have grown up with those.”

  “Trust me, having heard them ever since you fell for a boy named Clay and decided to take his name is no fun either,” Carryanne muttered.

  Elise smiled at them, as charmingly as she could. Was there anything she could do to make them like her? Usually she flirted, but even she knew it was a bad idea here and now.

  Nessa’s face grew serious. “I know you probably have a lot to say to me. And that you won’t want to talk in front of Elisandrine. So why don’t I take her to my room and let her find some travelling clothes for tomorrow. Then I’ll come back down here to talk to you?”

  I was right about the complete honesty, then.

  “That’s probably best,” Carryanne said.

  Nessa turned to Elise and gave her a wan smile. “My room is up that ladder, in the loft. Don’t worry, that part of the roof has been sealed the most. The wind isn’t too bad there.”

  Nessa went to the ladder and began to climb. Elise nodded at both Carryanne and Jon and then followed her up.

  The so-called room was a small, open area in the eaves of the roof. There was barely enough room for a bed, a dresser, and an upturned wooden crate, which held a lantern and a rusty old tinderbox. The ceiling was low, making them both hunch over not to hit their heads.

  Nessa’s shoulders were drawn up, and she was biting her lower lip. “I know, it’s not much. But it will do for one night and be good practise for you; you have to get used to roughing it. And sharing a bed. Sleeping close for warmth is important as the cold season is coming.” She paused to use the tinderbox to light the candle in the lantern. The warm light of it lit up her face as she continued speaking. “Layden has a sofa for guests, but I’m afraid we don’t. We could make the frame of it, but you know how expensive padding is. Well, no, I suppose you don’t. Anyway, as you can tell, this house has no room for a sofa anyway.”

  Elise held up a hand to stop her. “It is perfectly adequate, sharing a bed will not be a problem. Thank you. Just be aware that I tend to steal the covers.”

  Nessa breathed out, her shoulders dropping as she smiled. “Really? Well, I assume that a woman like you has only shared a bed with lovers. You tend to be more careful when you sleep next to someone you aren’t… intimate with.”

  “I will have you know that I have shared beds platonically before!”

  “Oh, my mistake then. When could that possibly have happened to you? Commoners have to do it a lot, but why would a Noble woman have to share a bed?”

  “My cousin Grandella. She used to visit once a year, and she was afraid of the dark. So, without asking me, mother put her in my bed with me. Like I was some sort of glorified cuddly toy.”

  Nessa pressed her lips together, seemingly crushing a grin. Or a laugh? “Well, unlike your mother, I will offer you a choice. The choice of being my glorified cuddly toy tonight or sleeping on the floor downstairs. Or, if you feel very strongly about it, I’ll sleep on the floor downstairs.”

  “Cuddly toy it is, then. However, note that I stole the covers from Grandella, too. Your lack of physical intimacy with me does not render you immune to my cover-stealing ways.”

  “I suppose I’ll simply have to steal them back then, milady,” Nessa said with a wink.

  Elise was reaching for a flirty comeback, sadly this turned out to be one of those rare occasions when none came to her. She wondered why. She usually flirted with such ease.

  Luckily, Nessa changed the topic. “In that dresser you will find all my clean clothes. Meaning everything but what I’m wearing right now and the shirt I spilled porridge on this morning. There’s not
much, but see if you can find something that could fit you and that you can move around in. I have a second pair of boots downstairs, hopefully they will fit you,” she said, a line forming between her eyebrows.

  Elise waved her worry away. “If not, I shall simply have to spend a day in these stupid shoes or your ill-fitting boots. Not the end of the world. I will simply buy a pair that fits in Nightport later. And thank you, I am sure I will find some clothes. Although the trousers might be a little too short for me.”

  Nessa snapped her fingers. “Oh yes, I thought about that. In the top drawer of the dresser you’ll find a pair of grey trousers. They’re a little too long for me and I meant to hem them but never got around to it. They’ll probably fit you best.”

  “Grey trousers. Top drawer. I will find them. You go down and face your parents. Let me know if they want me to sign a contract that I will not eat you alive.”

  She winked at Nessa, regretting that she wasn’t as good at it as Nessa had been. Why have I never learned how to wink without closing both my eyes? Flirting is supposed to be my forte, and this shy villager is outdoing me.

  Nessa groaned. “Right, yes. I’m going. Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck,” Elise dutifully said.

  As Nessa climbed down the ladder, Elise went over to the dresser. The top drawer had three pairs of soft, worn trousers. She picked out the grey ones and threw them on the bed. She decided she would sleep in her dress and wear her new outfit clean and ready tomorrow.

  That was when she heard angry whispers. Or maybe worried whispers was a better description.

  She could make out the words “making you leave too soon” and later “you know nothing about her.” It sounded like Nessa countered every point but she couldn’t be sure. She ventured closer to the ladder and heard Nessa growl, “I’m a grown woman, I’ll do what I think best. She can be of use to me, and I can be of use to her. It makes good sense to travel together. Her coin will keep me a lot safer than travelling alone will. Plus, I’ll have company. You’ve both said that you didn’t want me to be alone.”

  That seemed to quiet her parents. Elise heard sniffling and wondered if it was Nessa’s mother or father who was crying. Maybe it was both. With an aching stab in her heart she realised that her mother had shown nothing but relief when she left home.

  “Come here,” she heard Nessa say. Clearly the time for whispering was gone.

  Elise heard bodies thumping together and assumed that tight, loving hugs were taking place between the Clays. Nessa’s family truly loved her. Elise had to acknowledge the ugly jealousy in her chest, but tried to bury it deep. She focused on picking out one of Nessa’s linen shirts and a vest. She picked two that were both grey, thinking they would match the trousers even if they were a darker shade.

  She wondered if there was a place where she could scrub off the kohl around her eyes and the paint on her lips. Preferably with some water and a cloth. She’d like to wash her body, too, maybe even have a bath. But she didn’t want to ask for too much and come off as the spoiled lady.

  Nessa came up the ladder. Her eyes were red, and she was clearly sniffing back a crying fit. Elise had to fight the urge to hold her. Or apologise. Or both.

  “Hello again. How did it go?”

  Nessa shrugged. “It went. They’re not happy. But then if they were to be happy, I’d have to stay here for the rest of my life.”

  “I am terribly sorry.”

  Nessa sniffed. “It couldn’t be helped. They’ll get over it when they realise that I won’t be killed as soon as I step outside of Ground Hollow. Anyway, how are you getting along?”

  “I found some clothes. I was wondering if there is a place where I can get some water to wash my face?”

  “Not indoors, I’m afraid. Outside and to the left, there’s a water pump. Then if you go past that, you’ll see the privy. I’m sorry that the toilet is not in the house, like I hear it is in city houses. And that there is no bath. Ground Hollow has a small wash house in the square, but it closes at sundown.” Nessa paused to wipe her eyes. “You go clean up and prepare for sleep. I’ll go through my underthings and find you something to wear tomorrow.”

  Elise took an abrupt step back, almost hitting her head on the low ceiling. How could she forget small clothes? “Oh, right. Thank you.”

  Nessa shrugged. “That’s fine. I assumed you’d not want to root through my underthings.”

  A jolt of excitement hit Elise as her mind supplied her with an approximation of Nessa in said underthings. There were very obvious curves there, and strong, lean muscles to keep the curves in place. Her body was bound to be as attractive as her face was. Elise scolded herself for the thoughts. Nessa was to be her travel companion. One who was sad at the thought of leaving her family early.

  Because of you. You selfish, shallow brat.

  Elise decided to use the inside of her dress to rub the makeup off and hurried out to the pump and then the privy.

  When she came back, there was a neat pile of woollen socks, an undershirt, and a pair of nether coverings stacked on top of the grey clothes Elise had picked out. The nether coverings were not like the pair Elise was wearing now, which were made of flimsy material and about half a finger’s length down her thighs. These would almost go all the way down to her knees. They were thick, too, like the nether coverings Elise wore during her monthly bleed. It occurred to Elise that maybe Nessa didn’t have several pairs for different times of the month. This really was a whole new world.

  “Everything look acceptable?” Nessa asked.

  “Perfect. Although, I am not as blessed with round parts as you are, so it will not fit me as nicely.” Even Elise could hear how embasassingly whiny her voice sounded.

  “Well, we commoners are constantly told that Noble ladies are prettier because you are thinner. So, don’t envy me my curves.”

  Elise found her eyes drawn to Nessa’s chest. “I really would not believe everything you are told, Nessa Clay,” she said with a purr.

  She saw Nessa blush again; it was an intoxicating sight. But she wanted Nessa relaxed and comfortable, so she exchanged her smirk for a friendly, open expression. “Your turn to get ready. I will put my borrowed clothes on top of the dresser and get under the covers to start warming the bed.”

  Nessa left, and Elise got onto the thin mattress. She made herself as cosy as she could with the rough covers and thin pillow, but couldn’t find sleep. Not until Nessa snuck in closely behind her, pushing Elise almost to the end of the narrow bed.

  “Sleep well, milady,” she whispered, and Elise felt the soft darkness of sleep come over her.

  Chapter 8

  An End that is a Beginning

  Their rooster Bicksley crowed, and Nessa stirred out of sleep as usual.

  Only, this morning, there was a weight on top of her. A solid yet sumptuously soft weight.

  As she opened an eye, Nessa found that Elise was draped over her so that she was almost on top of her. She tried not to laugh at how her travel companion was cuddled into her. Having shared a bed with friends often throughout her life, she knew that you slept lightly so that you didn’t encroach too much on their personal space. You made an attempt to ensure it didn’t get awkward. Evidently, Elisandrine’s sleepovers with her cousin had not prepared her very well for platonic bed sharing. Nessa heard noises downstairs as her mother lit the fire and put a pot of water over it for their morning tea.

  Elisandrine clearly heard it, too, on some subconscious level, as she nuzzled into Nessa’s hair and groaned in annoyance at being disturbed.

  Nessa wanted to get up. Her arm, which was pinned under Elisandrine, was tingling painfully and she was growing stiff. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to wake the beauty perched on top of her. Partly because Elisandrine’s trust was so sweet and partly because it felt nice to be cuddled so close on the chilly morning. However, it was starting to feel a little too nice. Especially when Elisandrine fidgeted, brushing warm skin against Nessa and letting her left
leg nestle in between Nessa’s.

  “Uh, good morning, milady,” Nessa said in a panic.

  She tried to shimmy away but realised that she’d push her bed companion down on the floor if she did. She was trapped.

  Elisandrine groaned again and drowsily muttered, “Just a little longer. I am not getting up quite yet.” Her hand bunched in the nightshirt Nessa was wearing and pulled it taut against Nessa’s torso. Nessa looked at it, worried it might tear. Then Elise’s grumpiness seemed to pass, and she let go of the shirt. She crawled on top of Nessa completely, snuggled down against her neck, and fell back asleep. Her breaths came in slow against Nessa’s skin, making it rise in goosebumps.

  No, no, no. Wake up, you annoying, adorable woman!

  “Milady,” Nessa said pleadingly. “It’s time to wake up. Time for some tea and porridge. We have our trip ahead of us today, remember?”

  Elisandrine yawned and stretched a little. Then she lifted her head so that they were face to face. As Elise’s eyes blinked open, Nessa could see every long, dark lash and even a little sleep grit in the corner of Elise’s right eye. Those eyes shone like the sun, making Nessa’s heart race. She was so dangerously close. Their breaths mingled between their mouths.

  As she gradually woke up, Elise relaxed features slowly morphed into confusion and then mild panic. “Oh gods! I am awfully sorry. Wait, I will get off you.”

  Nessa tried not to laugh. For someone normally so flirty and relaxed, Elisandrine was taking this very seriously. “It’s all right. You kept me very warm, and for that, I thank you. Just carefully slide off me so you don’t fall off the mattress.”

  Elisandrine nodded without making eye contact. She got off Nessa and stood shivering in that ridiculous lacy dress. She suddenly seemed younger than she was, a maiden caught doing something forbidden.