by T J Muir
Had Diya heard correctly? Was this man going to give the drunkard more alcohol? What kind of fool would throw more fuel on to a raging fire? The man looked up and must have seen the look on her face. He winked at her and grinned.
What audacity! Then she realized, it didn’t matter.
“Hot stew at the pub and you can tell me what’s got you so upset. Then we’ll get you back home.”
With her peaceful retreat ruined, Diya decided to head back up to the manor. When she got back, Esha appeared out of nowhere, standing there with an odd expression on her face.
“Is everything okay?” Diya asked, not wanting to ask if she and her brother had broken anything or gotten into some brutal fight.
“Mama said for you to go to her.”
“Okay. I'll just take a moment to wash and change,” she said, hoping she wasn't in trouble for leaving the grounds without notifying her and glad she had thought to pick up some candies that Jinna was partial to.
Diya was careful to choose clothes that didn't look frivolous this time, and then she headed down to the parent's wing. She tapped at the door and then went in, not expecting their mother to call out or come to the door. Jinna looked about the same as the last time Diya had been summoned, propped up on cushions and sipping tea. Placing the tea cup down, she reached to the floor and picked up a pile of papers. It took what little breath Jinna had away. Another harsh cough barked out. Diya recognized Tilly’s work pages and some of her sketches, including the ones she’d drawn of the family on the courtyard all together. How had Jinna gotten hold of them? She realized Tilly must have been filching them to bring to her mother. Diya resented anyone helping themselves to her personal things—especially artwork, but that feeling was tempered by the fact that Tilly may innocently have wanted something to share with her sick mother.
“I like that Tilly is learning—finally. I argued strongly that she wasn’t incapable, but I was overruled by the doctors. And,” Jinna hesitated then looked away. Whatever she was going to say, she’d changed her mind.
Diya picked up Jinna's thread, agreeing with her assessment of her youngest child. “I think that Tilly is very intelligent and perceptive, sensitive.”
Diya was fishing around for the right explanation. She realized that Tilly had been reaching out, in her child’s emotion-driven way, when she’d gone through her trauma. She might never reach out again, choosing to remain the stoic warrior in her own silent world.
Diya smiled to herself, knowing Jinna needed her for Tilly’s sake. Diya had won points for helping Tilly. She had the advantage, small that it was.
Then Jinna reached down, picking up the family sketch. “I don’t look like this,” she said, voice flat. “Not anymore.”
Diya looked down at the drawing for a moment, knowing she had drawn Jinna looking more vibrant and healthy than she actually was. Diya had tried to imagine what Jinna must have looked like before she fell ill. Looking back up, she shrugged. “It is what the artist’s eye sees.”
Jinna met her stare and held it. Her defiant silence reminded her so much of Tilly.
Diya took a breath and let it out. “This,” she said, nodding at the drawings, “is how they will remember you.”
She’d said it. Diya held her ground and Jinna’s flat stare.
This time Jinna looked away, turning to look out the window as though seeing the scene of herself with the children as an onlooker. A tiny softening around the eyes, as though she were looking far away, betrayed an inner sadness.
CHAPTER Seventeen
“How many sausages do you want?” Diya asked Tilly and then put three onto the plate, not expecting an answer. Tilly almost always ate three sausages, three pancakes and one slice of toast or bread with butter on it, and she liked to drown her plate in fresh maple syrup. The first time she had seen Tilly’s plate swimming in the amber liquid she had been shocked. Then she had tasted it. It was almost better than chocolate. She added it to her cocoa and found she ate pancakes for breakfast on a regular basis just so she had an excuse to indulge herself.
As she turned around to put the plates out on the prep table, a flash of bright color caught her eye. She stopped and stared out the window as a wagonload of Beddo trundled down the lane toward the barns. She grimaced. Even knowing that the day would come didn’t make her any happier about it.
She put their plates down. Tilly dug into her breakfast immediately but Diya’s appetite had vanished. She chopped the sausages up into pieces but then pushed them around the plate rather than eating most of them. Nothing good was going to come from the Beddo being on the property. For the first time since she had arrived, she wondered if the family locked the doors at night. Back on her family’s estate, there were always guardsmen that kept watch. Here, there was no one. The complete lack of security had never occurred to her until now.
After breakfast, Esha joined them out on the veranda. This was becoming part of their daily routine. Esha seemed to like the time with just girls. The girl pulled out an extra chair and began to braid her hair, twirling the end between her fingers. Diya watched the two sisters who were so very different. Yet in other ways. they were alike. Both girls had a delicate athletic grace, like dancers, and it turned out they also shared an artistic eye as Diya watched Esha easily convert Tilly’s drawing steps into a cat.
Diya nodded her approval. “Very nice. You have a good eye.”
Esha shrugged, trying to look indifferent but Diya noted the the look of guarded pride on Esha’s face. “Most art is just seeing the shapes in things and how they fit together,” she explained. “And then— seeing how it blends within the environment.”
“That simple?”
Diya laughed. “Not really, but yes.”
Without warning, Tilly slipped off her chair and disappeared around the side of the house. Diya guessed that the girl would disappear into one of her little nesting spots or she would be with her mother. Once Tilly had left, Esha excused herself as well.
Diya leaned back, enjoyed the sun and then decided to go for a walk to stretch her legs. Maybe she'd go peek in on the animals and see how the otter was liking the new cage. She headed down the lane but stopped short before she got to the barns. She heard voices shouting back and forth. Was that Zaylin again?
The last thing she wanted was another confrontation, especially since it took the twins several days to let it go the last time, but as she stood there listening, she realized this sounded more like friendly banter. Maybe Chak, Ben and Zaylin were working on something? Her curiosity kicked in and she continued on toward the barn. Following the lane around the corner, she ran into a young Beddo carrying a scythe.
Don't hurt me. Don't touch me. Jumping back a step, the two reactions waged for first place in her mind.
A young man smiled back up at her, flashing bright teeth that reminded Diya of a hungry badger.
“Good mornin' missus,” he said, the accent unmistakable as he shifted his grip on the scythe.
Diya glanced down, noticing the shiny fresh edge. Looking back up, she took in the loose flowing pants tucked into sturdy work boots and the bright shirt and belt, turquoise, teal and bright yellow, capped off with a dark vest which had bold patterns embroidered along the cuffs and neck.
“Does Chak know you're up here?” she said. Someone had better know this man was wandering around the estate.
A hand came up, shading his eyes, as the man took in Diya. His expression changed and he straightened up. “Sorry missus. I'll just be getting this back to the field now.”
“Yes, you do that.”
Dipping his head, the man took a step backwards. Making a wide berth around Diya, he then headed towards the lower field. Diya watched until he was out of sight and followed behind to make sure he went where he said he was going. Up ahead she could see a cluster of men in garish colors dragging brush out of the field. At least she spotted Ben among the group. Satisfied they were being monitored, she turned back to the house.
Where will th
ey be staying? Are they camping out for the whole time? Will the doors and windows be locked every night? By the time she got to the mudroom and pulled off her jacket, she was worked up over it. She tried to think of things that would keep all of the children busy. I can get them to take more walks down to the village. Every day? They would get tired of that within the first three days. At the very least, she was determined that she was going to keep Tilly clear of the workers.
She sat there, mulling over the situation and staring out the window as though she could see what the Beddo were up to, when Esha dashed into the kitchen.
“Did you see?” she asked, excited and breathless. “The Beddo came in this morning.”
Diya turned, surprised at the bright look on Esha's face especially since her own feeling was anything but excited.
“I'm going out to help in the field. My work’s all done for the day so now I can go out and have fun.”
Diya opened her mouth to protest but Esha left before she could think of a reason to stop her.
I'd better go take a look and see just what is going on out there.
Outside, two Beddo wagons were parked in front of the main barn. One of them was flat and empty with two wooden benches. She imagined that the Beddo all rode in on the one wagon. The second wagon was a closed caravan with bright patterns painted all over it. She could hear a few voices coming from inside and could smell the pungent scent of herbs and cooking. Good. They wouldn't be coming up to the main house for their meals.
A half dozen Beddo ducked in and out of the barn and then disappeared around the corner. Then two more appeared, running back into the barn again. Someone from the main group shouted to them and they shouted back and forth for a few minutes. Diya didn't understand a word they were saying. She watched for a little while as they pulled out the wagon and yanked off a broken wheel. One of them appeared out of nowhere, ducked into the storage shed and grabbed a giant axe then ran off again.
Watching the chaotic activity gave her an uneasy feeling. Korina must have been referring to the twins and not Tilly. This would be too much activity and excitement for Tilly. There is far too much going on, and it’s likely not even safe for a child to be around. I'll have to figure out something else to do to keep Tilly busy.
Realizing that Tilly would be coming out for lunch soon, she ducked into the pantry and filled a pack with some smoked venison that Tilly liked, cheese and dried apple slices. Then she headed down the hallway to the study and grabbed a couple of books and stuffed them into the pack. Pulling the pack over her shoulder, she headed down the main hall and sat down on the bottom step of the north stairs.
Before long, she heard the soft click of the double doors and the light shuffle of footsteps. She stood up, making noise so she wouldn't startle Tilly as she came around the corner. Tilly paused, a finger in her mouth.
“It's such a nice day out, I thought we might take a picnic lunch. We can walk down to the village and eat lunch on the bridge. Then we can go get some candies and read in the sun,” Diya said, her plan fully in place. “Here, I even brought your jacket for you.”
Tilly stopped, still sucking her finger. From the look on her face, she probably already knew that the Beddo had arrived. She glanced past Diya, down the hall, and chewed on her finger.
“Come on,” Diya said, coaxing. “It'll be fun. And we can get some of those candies to bring back to the others and some for your mummy too.”
Tilly looked down at her feet, glanced down the hall again and then back at Diya. She took a reluctant step forward toward the front doors. Without waiting for Tilly to change her mind, Diya hurried after her and kept chatting brightly until they reached the lane that went down to the village. It was a stunning view. Picturesque. The lane stretched out, sloping gently down towards the river. A flock of ducks flew by overhead in a V shape, heading north. Fields stretched out on their left, including the lower orchards from the manor. Between the fields and the river was a marshy area right up to the bridge which sloped gently over the damp areas before cresting over the river that looked like it was still flooding its banks. Across the river she could see where the road forked, the left side leading to the village. She wondered where the other road went and reminded herself to find a map of the area.
Excited to be out of the house, Tilly skipped ahead, finding rocks to peek under, climb on top of or throw into puddles. One of her stones startled a large blue-grey bird that broke cover and flew off with a loud squawking.
As they came up to the bridge, Diya spotted a handful of ducks splashing around in a quiet inlet and hoped Tilly didn't scare them off.
“This looks like a nice spot for a picnic, don't you think?” she asked, putting down her pack and taking things out. She looked up to see Tilly climbing up on the parapet and making her way along the wall of the bridge. She was still over the low section but was less than ten steps away from being out over the river.
“No. Tilly, stop. That's dangerous.” She had visions of Tilly falling down into the river or falling to the ground below and breaking an arm, but Tilly acted like she hadn't heard Diya and kept on. Diya rushed up, grabbing hold of the girl's hand, and prepared to pull her down. Tilly pulled back, resisting. Diya was afraid to pull harder and have Tilly tumble over the edge. The two of them stood there, eying each other and neither one giving in.
Finally, Diya realized she was going to need to compromise. “Okay. You can walk along the wall but only if you hold my hand.”
She felt Tilly's resistance lessen, and the girl dipped her chin slightly, a tiny nod of agreement. Then she turned, they continued their way along the bridge and then back again to where their picnic lunch would be. After lunch, Tilly climbed back up, but instead of taking off, she stood there with her hand out, waiting.
Diya followed Tilly all around the village, letting her explore logs, under rocks and even the docks by the river-- anything that kept her busy and took up the afternoon. As promised, they stopped in at the baker’s and got some candies before heading home at the end of the day.
By the time they got back to the manor, Tilly was walking slower and rubbing her face. Once inside, Diya brought her upstairs. “Let's get you a nice bath, a little snack and then a story if you’re all clean and ready for bed.” Tilly stumped her way up the steps, too tired to object. Once she was washed and in her bed clothes, Diya pulled out a book, but before they got to the second page, Tilly's eyes were closed and her head was nodding. Finishing the page to make sure she was asleep, Diya then tucked her tiny charge under the covers and closed the door halfway. The twins weren't in bed yet so Diya went down and found them down in the kitchen, falling asleep in their dinner. Diya realized she needed to do the bedtime routine with them, so she lugged them to their feet, marched them up to the bath and fetched clean clothes for them while they scrubbed. Fortunately, both of them were too tired to put up much of a fight.
Then she was ready for a glass of wine. It was a long and exhausting day. What am I going to do tomorrow? She didn’t think she could keep Tilly distracted for the entire time the Beddo were staying. Then she imagined Tilly being stolen away or hurt by a careless worker. Maybe we can do breakfast and then draw near the Beddo and see how that goes. A test. She didn’t like the idea one bit, but from what Korina had told her, she knew the Beddo came every year and they were going to be on the estate for a while. She hadn’t heard any horror stories about the children getting badly hurt so she forced herself to take a deep breath and not panic.
The next morning, Diya waited for Tilly on the steps, trying to come up with a fresh bribe. She waited and waited, long past the time when Tilly usually left Jinna's room. No Tilly. Impatience became concern that bordered on alarm. Should she go and check on them? Then she remembered her drawing perch and dashed up the stairs where she could get a glimpse into Jinna's room. Kneeling on the window seat, she had a clear line of sight to where Jinna was propped up on a daybed just inside the double glass doors that opened into the private garden. Sh
e was alone.
Damn the nine hells! Sometimes Diya forgot just how clever Tilly was. Visions of Tilly on the roof or falling into the pond flashed through her mind. How was she going to explain that to her mama? She jumped down from her perch and searched the house from top to bottom, starting with the most likely places: the playroom, kitchen and the bedrooms. When she still couldn’t find Tilly, she worked her way through the library, solarium and even the root cellars. A feeling of dread washed over her as she made her way down the hall toward the kitchen. As much as she hated the idea, she was going to have to ask Korina for help. Maybe the cook knew where Tilly liked to hide.
Then she noticed that Tilly’s boots weren’t by the door. Diya knew they had left them in the mudroom. The little weasel must have slipped outside from Jinna’s veranda. That would explain how Tilly had gotten by her without notice. She found Tilly in the manor garden, bent over a fresh trough of dirt, side by side with a young Beddo with a woman standing over them both. Relief washed over her, knowing Tilly was safe, but she was appalled to find Tilly outside with the Beddo workers.
“Atta right, poke the peas just down to your knuckle and tap a little dirt over the top As same witta the beans. Em's the first things in and the first thing a be comin up. Alla the way doown at the enda the row.” Nodding in satisfaction, she picked up a shovel and began turning the dirt nearby.
“Tilly!” Diya exclaimed, startling all three of the workers. “What are you doing out here? I was looking all over for you.”
“Is aright. Tha wee un ha been here, a right good helper the little un be.”
Diya stood there, glowering, hands on her hips. Instinct told her to grab the child, yank her away and get her to safety. That wouldn't end very well though, especially since Tilly looked quite happy, digging her hands in the dirt like any common laborer.
Something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She turned her head slightly, not wanting to take her eyes off of Tilly. Esha had walked up, standing beside her. From the smile on her face and the slight nod, Diya had the feeling that this was a regular thing for Tilly to help with the home gardens. That brought a surge of conflicting emotions up. Looking at Tilly, it was clear that she was happy and enjoying herself and that she knew what she was doing. One look at her concise and measured motions made that abundantly clear. Diya watched her side by side with the young Beddo and frowned. She reminded herself to check Tilly's head later, for lice.