forced himself to keep walking and forced his rushing thoughts to freeze.
“That’s a big house,” he finally managed to say into the booming silence. He felt like an idiot, but it was all he could manage right now.
“It may be a big house, it may also be a nearby one. It may be nice to have some company nearby, that’s all I meant.”
He was balanced on one foot on the side of a rocking boat in a thunderstorm, and the goal was not to get wet. He stopped and faced Lady, thinking of a way to phrase the question in some way other than
Are you saying what I think you’re saying?
Before he could force any words out, Mrs. Nesbitt pushed between them and grabbed Lady’s arm.
“Thank you for the escort, King. You were quite a help to these old bones,” Nessie said. They were at the back door to Lady’s house. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have quite a bit of work to do. Cooking, cleaning—women’s things, you know, and we wouldn’t dream of making you be part of any of it. And I suspect you’ll need to prepare for your next fight, and there’s no way we could help with such an important task, so we’ll free you from your duty and bid you good day. Come, Lady, we have feathers to pluck.”
Sleeker than water down a window, Mrs. Nesbitt ushered Lady inside with no chance for anybody to say a word otherwise. Fighting back a laugh in no way caused by mirth, he took a moment to run his hands over his face and clear his thoughts. When that didn’t work, he checked the sky to see if pigs were flying above him or if there was some other sign the world had started turning sideways. As he looked up, he saw Lady waving to him from a window on the second story. She pointed to the side and he thought he read her lips as saying “Door.”
He dashed around front and in less than a minute, Lady opened the front door like a young girl sneaking out to visit her beau, and gently closed it behind her, but didn’t latch it. She carried a large, bright blanket in her arms and thrust it at him. “Your rooms could use a little color,” she said with a bashful grin, then snuck back inside.
King stared at the door. He was so far beyond confused that he was starting to simply accept the events of the past several minutes. It was certainly easier than trying to figure out what in the hell had just happened. But if he was going to think about all of this, he needed peace and quiet, and there was no way he was going to get it this close to Lady, so he headed home. He lifted the blanket to his face and breathed deeply. He smelled tea and soap and the faintest hint of lemon, and suddenly, nothing seemed as impossible as it had before.
He laughed and shook his head. That woman had him tied in more knots than the rigging on a sailing ship. He liked it.
* * *
The next day, Lady was feeling particularly good. Her impulsive decision to give King the quilt felt right. Ever since he’d steadied her feet and whispered of willow bark, she’d trusted him. It went against everything she knew, everything Nessie taught her, and Lady should be in Bedlam for such a thought, but deep in her gut, she knew he wouldn’t cause her harm. The quilt was her way of saying thank you and, to no small degree, that he could trust her too. It meant other things, good things, and the idea of him sleeping under it was part of what put her in such an agreeable mood.
The other was Nessie. They had cooked and laughed and talked and celebrated, enjoying their feast well into the night. It was almost like it was back when Mr. Adams had brought Mrs. Nesbitt over to be Lady’s housekeeper, and they would laugh and talk into the night. But ever since Lady had started feeling angry over Mr. Adams’s increasing abuse, it had become obvious Nessie either didn’t understand or didn’t want to hear it, so laughter had become scarce around their house. Giving King the quilt, laughing with Nessie, it all felt good, though she guessed trouble between Nessie and King was
“That’s a big house,” he finally managed to say into the booming silence. He felt like an idiot, but it was all he could manage right now.
“It may be a big house, it may also be a nearby one. It may be nice to have some company nearby, that’s all I meant.”
He was balanced on one foot on the side of a rocking boat in a thunderstorm, and the goal was not to get wet. He stopped and faced Lady, thinking of a way to phrase the question in some way other than
Are you saying what I think you’re saying?
Before he could force any words out, Mrs. Nesbitt pushed between them and grabbed Lady’s arm.
“Thank you for the escort, King. You were quite a help to these old bones,” Nessie said. They were at the back door to Lady’s house. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have quite a bit of work to do. Cooking, cleaning—women’s things, you know, and we wouldn’t dream of making you be part of any of it. And I suspect you’ll need to prepare for your next fight, and there’s no way we could help with such an important task, so we’ll free you from your duty and bid you good day. Come, Lady, we have feathers to pluck.”
Sleeker than water down a window, Mrs. Nesbitt ushered Lady inside with no chance for anybody to say a word otherwise. Fighting back a laugh in no way caused by mirth, he took a moment to run his hands over his face and clear his thoughts. When that didn’t work, he checked the sky to see if pigs were flying above him or if there was some other sign the world had started turning sideways. As he looked up, he saw Lady waving to him from a window on the second story. She pointed to the side and he thought he read her lips as saying “Door.”
He dashed around front and in less than a minute, Lady opened the front door like a young girl sneaking out to visit her beau, and gently closed it behind her, but didn’t latch it. She carried a large, bright blanket in her arms and thrust it at him. “Your rooms could use a little color,” she said with a bashful grin, then snuck back inside.
King stared at the door. He was so far beyond confused that he was starting to simply accept the events of the past several minutes. It was certainly easier than trying to figure out what in the hell had just happened. But if he was going to think about all of this, he needed peace and quiet, and there was no way he was going to get it this close to Lady, so he headed home. He lifted the blanket to his face and breathed deeply. He smelled tea and soap and the faintest hint of lemon, and suddenly, nothing seemed as impossible as it had before.
He laughed and shook his head. That woman had him tied in more knots than the rigging on a sailing ship. He liked it.
* * *
The next day, Lady was feeling particularly good. Her impulsive decision to give King the quilt felt right. Ever since he’d steadied her feet and whispered of willow bark, she’d trusted him. It went against everything she knew, everything Nessie taught her, and Lady should be in Bedlam for such a thought, but deep in her gut, she knew he wouldn’t cause her harm. The quilt was her way of saying thank you and, to no small degree, that he could trust her too. It meant other things, good things, and the idea of him sleeping under it was part of what put her in such an agreeable mood.
The other was Nessie. They had cooked and laughed and talked and celebrated, enjoying their feast well into the night. It was almost like it was back when Mr. Adams had brought Mrs. Nesbitt over to be Lady’s housekeeper, and they would laugh and talk into the night. But ever since Lady had started feeling angry over Mr. Adams’s increasing abuse, it had become obvious Nessie either didn’t understand or didn’t want to hear it, so laughter had become scarce around their house. Giving King the quilt, laughing with Nessie, it all felt good, though she guessed trouble between Nessie and King was
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