~~~~
A half-hour later, Juliet was washed, dressed and eager to explore her new home. Plenty of work needed to be done around their little house, but it would wait till the afternoon. This morning, maybe she'd walk into Abingdon and see what the town was like. Or stroll around Swanthorpe, bringing Charlotte down to the river to see the swans, mallards and coots that paddled in the current. Better yet, maybe she would wander around until she found her husband, and surreptitiously watch him through increasingly appreciative eyes. The possibilities were endless.
With Charlotte in her arms, she headed downstairs, pausing at a window to look outside. It was a delightful spring day, with high, fluffy clouds drifting across a sky of hazy blue and a thousand daisies and dandelions scattered across the back lawn. As she came down the stairs and entered the sitting room, she was startled to see a rather thin young woman on her hands and knees before the hearth, shoveling old coals into a cast iron bucket. The girl looked up as Juliet entered the room, lunged to her feet, and bobbed a quick curtsy.
"M'loidy!"
Juliet was taken aback. Not only was she surprised to find a stranger in her home, she was not, and would never be, used to being addressed as "my lady."
"I'm sorry — I don't think we've been introduced," she said, eyeing the girl in some confusion.
"Beggin' yer pardon, mum. Moi name's Becky. The master said Oi could come and be your maid, 'e did. Hope ye don't mind. Oi've brought ye a breakfast straight from the manor 'ouse, Oi 'ave — cold gammon wi' some bread and butter and a pitcher of fresh milk, since Oi knew ye wouldn't 'ave anythin' in." The girl jerked her head, bird-like, toward the table. "It's all roight there waitin' for ye, it is."
"That's very kind of you," Juliet said, her face flaming as she saw the table and thought of what she and Gareth had done on it not twenty-four hours past. Thank the lord Becky could not read her thoughts! She sat down and poured herself a mug of milk, her stomach rumbling at sight of the food. "Won't you join me?"
Becky eyed the tray with undisguised longing, then quickly shook her head.
"Oh, no, mum, Oi couldn't."
"Go on," Juliet said, clandestinely eying the girl's bony hands and too-thin frame. "Besides," she fibbed, "I can't eat it all."
With a nervous little shrug, Becky wiped her fingers on her skirts and selected a piece of ham. Juliet noted that she took the smallest one, as though she felt undeserving of any more than that. It took some urging to convince the girl to take a second slice, let alone a mug of milk, but by the time she did, Becky had relaxed, obviously thinking Juliet was someone she could trust.
"So tell me about Mr. Snelling," Juliet murmured, washing down her breakfast with sips of milk. "You said he sent you down?"
"That 'e did, mum. And 'tis glad of it Oi be, too. Oi worked up in the manor house, ye see, but the master, 'e said Oi was lazy and slothful, and 'e wanted to send me away. But Oi heard ye was comin' and knew ye'd 'ave yer 'ands full, what wi' a babe an' all, so Oi asked Snelling if Oi could stay on and work down 'ere for 'alf me pay. I didn't want to leave Swanthorpe, ye see." She blushed hotly and cupped her hand to the side of her mouth. "Oi've got me a feller 'ere."
Juliet grinned. "I guess that makes two of us!"
"Oh, blimey, Oi've seen yer man! Everyone at Swanthorpe's talking about 'im, they are, 'specially all the town girls who work 'ere. Ye'd best keep a close eye on 'im, lest one of 'em try to steal 'im away from ye!"
Juliet laughed. "Oh, Becky," she said, shaking her head. "I'm so glad you're here. I've been a little homesick, and ... well, it's nice to have someone to talk to. I don't know anyone here, I'm afraid, and I feel like such an outsider, coming from partway across the world and all ..."
"Ah, ye'll soon foind that people is the same no matter where ye go," Becky returned with quiet country wisdom. "And Oi knows what it's loike to be alone and not knowin' no-one. Tell ye what. Snelling always schedules a big foight for Froiday noights, down at the County 'all in the Market Place. That's tonoight, it is. All the foine folks from Oxford'll come down for it, and it'll be as fun and loively as a country fair. We can get me sister Bonnie to look after yer babe; she's got three of 'er own. 'Ow 'bout you and Oi go down together and watch?"
"Well, I ..."
"It'll be great fun. I hear Bull O'Rourke's foighting, and 'e always draws a big crowd, 'e does. Ever 'ear of Bull? Strapping Oirish farmer, 'e is — 'ands the soize of buckets an' arms so big they split 'is shirt when 'e moves. 'Twill be a good match, I think — Bull's never lost a foight yet. What do ye say, eh?"
"I'm not much for blood sports," Juliet said, hesitating.
"Oh, ye can just close yer eyes if ye don't want to watch. Any'ow, the crowd'll be so thick and rowdy, we probably won't be able to get near the ring, let alone see anythin'."
"Well ..." Juliet could think of twenty other things she'd rather be doing tonight, but Gareth had said he might not be home until late. What else was there to do, really? Besides, it would do her good to get out of the house. "All right, you've talked me into it," she finally said. "What time should I be ready?"