into the mass of fabric and sobbing quietly.
“What is the meaning of this?” Julianna demanded, stepping nearer to the woman and lending her the protection of her authority. The crowd shifted until they faced Mary and Julianna, the men gathered off to one side, the women to the other. They’d arrayed themselves before her like two troops of combatants ready to do battle—nodoubt an accurate assessment, to judge by their expressions.
Joan, one of the older kitchen maids, stepped forward. “We do want her gone from here, milady,” she said, her jaw held at a challenging angle and her hands fisted upon her scrawny hips. “Today. She’s up to no good, She’s been nothin’ but trouble since she got here, and it’s past time we did somethin’ about it.”
Several of the other women in the crowd nodded their agreement, while two of the men standing near the front shifted their feet in the dust and wouldn’t meet Julianna’s gaze.
Though she assumed she knew where this conversation was headed, Julianna simply looked at them expectantly. “Is that so?”
“Aye, milady,” Joan said with a decisive nod. “Up to no good she is—we’ve known that from the time she came here. ’Tis common knowledge.”
“What does ‘up to no good’ mean?” Julianna asked, biting back a groan of aggravation. Why must they decide to fight each other now, when lack of sleep had deprived her of any patience to deal with them?
Hadn’t they anything else to do to occupythemselves? Fields to tend, weapons to repair, animals to care for? Lord knew she’d tasks enough! “Have you caught Mary stealing? Fouling our well? Poisoning our sheep?” She placed her hand on her knife hilt and took a step forward; Joan’s tone and attitude were so self-righteous that the old besom deserved to feel the threat of her mistress’s annoyance. “Have you found her consorting with our enemies?”
Mary moaned and huddled more deeply into the bundle of cloth.
“Nay, not our enemies, Lady Julianna,” another of the women cried. “’Tis our men! She’s been consortin’ wi’ our sweethearts, the sneakin’ harlot. From the time that strumpet came wigglin’ her arse through the gates, she’s done nothin’ but tease ’em an’ toy with ’em till she has her way. Now that they’ve got her to see to ’em whenever they want, they’ll have nothin’ to do wi’ decent women,” she added, her voice rising to an annoying whine.
The other women seemed to take this as their cue to all air their grievances at once, making it impossible for Julianna to understand their words, though their meaning was clear enough. “Is that so?” She didn’t attempt to hide her disdain at soridiculous a claim. While she herself had always considered Mary to be a shameless wench, she doubted any woman had the desire—or the vigor—to bed so many men!
Nor could she bed them all at once.
Could she?
Julianna thrust that disquieting thought aside and turned to Mary. Whatever the woman had been doing with the men, ’twas doubtful she deserved to be stoned and cast from their gates—Julianna’s prior angry thoughts about the maid’s behavior notwithstanding.
She laid her hand on the woman’s shoulder, still aquiver from her crying. “Here now, we’ll not resolve anything with you hiding away, Mary. Straighten up and show your face. They’ll not harm you while I’m here to protect you.”
“But what about when you’re gone, milady?” Mary spoke quietly, not bothering to do more than slightly lift her head. “They’ll only wait until later, then find some other way to get me. They always do.”
The maid’s calm tone made it clear she expected nothing different. What must it be like to simply presume you’d be abused, to accept that abuse as though it was your due? As the beloveddaughter of Tuck’s Tower, no one had ever dared threaten Julianna personally, and while she’d not always had her way, she’d found it an annoyance, nothing more
“What is the meaning of this?” Julianna demanded, stepping nearer to the woman and lending her the protection of her authority. The crowd shifted until they faced Mary and Julianna, the men gathered off to one side, the women to the other. They’d arrayed themselves before her like two troops of combatants ready to do battle—nodoubt an accurate assessment, to judge by their expressions.
Joan, one of the older kitchen maids, stepped forward. “We do want her gone from here, milady,” she said, her jaw held at a challenging angle and her hands fisted upon her scrawny hips. “Today. She’s up to no good, She’s been nothin’ but trouble since she got here, and it’s past time we did somethin’ about it.”
Several of the other women in the crowd nodded their agreement, while two of the men standing near the front shifted their feet in the dust and wouldn’t meet Julianna’s gaze.
Though she assumed she knew where this conversation was headed, Julianna simply looked at them expectantly. “Is that so?”
“Aye, milady,” Joan said with a decisive nod. “Up to no good she is—we’ve known that from the time she came here. ’Tis common knowledge.”
“What does ‘up to no good’ mean?” Julianna asked, biting back a groan of aggravation. Why must they decide to fight each other now, when lack of sleep had deprived her of any patience to deal with them?
Hadn’t they anything else to do to occupythemselves? Fields to tend, weapons to repair, animals to care for? Lord knew she’d tasks enough! “Have you caught Mary stealing? Fouling our well? Poisoning our sheep?” She placed her hand on her knife hilt and took a step forward; Joan’s tone and attitude were so self-righteous that the old besom deserved to feel the threat of her mistress’s annoyance. “Have you found her consorting with our enemies?”
Mary moaned and huddled more deeply into the bundle of cloth.
“Nay, not our enemies, Lady Julianna,” another of the women cried. “’Tis our men! She’s been consortin’ wi’ our sweethearts, the sneakin’ harlot. From the time that strumpet came wigglin’ her arse through the gates, she’s done nothin’ but tease ’em an’ toy with ’em till she has her way. Now that they’ve got her to see to ’em whenever they want, they’ll have nothin’ to do wi’ decent women,” she added, her voice rising to an annoying whine.
The other women seemed to take this as their cue to all air their grievances at once, making it impossible for Julianna to understand their words, though their meaning was clear enough. “Is that so?” She didn’t attempt to hide her disdain at soridiculous a claim. While she herself had always considered Mary to be a shameless wench, she doubted any woman had the desire—or the vigor—to bed so many men!
Nor could she bed them all at once.
Could she?
Julianna thrust that disquieting thought aside and turned to Mary. Whatever the woman had been doing with the men, ’twas doubtful she deserved to be stoned and cast from their gates—Julianna’s prior angry thoughts about the maid’s behavior notwithstanding.
She laid her hand on the woman’s shoulder, still aquiver from her crying. “Here now, we’ll not resolve anything with you hiding away, Mary. Straighten up and show your face. They’ll not harm you while I’m here to protect you.”
“But what about when you’re gone, milady?” Mary spoke quietly, not bothering to do more than slightly lift her head. “They’ll only wait until later, then find some other way to get me. They always do.”
The maid’s calm tone made it clear she expected nothing different. What must it be like to simply presume you’d be abused, to accept that abuse as though it was your due? As the beloveddaughter of Tuck’s Tower, no one had ever dared threaten Julianna personally, and while she’d not always had her way, she’d found it an annoyance, nothing more
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