Читать книгу Love and Loyalty - Valerie Tripp - Страница 6

ate afternoon sunshine slanted through the window onto Felicity’s back. Felicity squirmed. She had a terrible itch and didn’t know how to scratch it. She couldn’t reach it with her left hand. Her right hand was inky, because she was practicing her script. She jiggled her shoulders up and down. She held her breath and rubbed her sides with her elbows. She leaned back and wiggled her shoulder against the chair.

“Felicity, my dear!” exclaimed her mother. “Why are you twitching and fidgeting so?”

“I have the most awful itch, Mother,” said Felicity. “I think my stays are laced too tight today. They’re so pinching and uncomfortable.” Felicity pulled at her stays, which were laced up her back like a tight vest.

Mrs. Merriman shook her head and laughed. “You think your stays are laced too tight every day! But you do grow so fast, maybe you are right. Come here, my child, and I will loosen them for you.”

“Thank you, Mother,” said Felicity. She sighed with relief as her mother loosened the laces.

“I’ve told you many times, Lissie. Your stays will not pinch you if you sit up straight,” said Mrs. Merriman. “And they will not be uncomfortable if you move gracefully instead of galloping about.” She straightened Felicity’s cap. “There, now, pretty one. You are set to rights. Fetch me your paper, so that I may see your handwriting practice.”

Felicity blushed as she handed her mother the paper. “I haven’t quite finished it, Mother,” she said.

“So I see,” said Mrs. Merriman. “The first few letters are very fine. But you lost patience when you got to the letter H. The rest of the letters go trip-trotting all over the page and then turn into sketches of horses!” She put the paper down and looked Felicity in the eye. “Lissie, what am I to do with you? You must learn to finish what you begin. If you spent half as much time on your letters as you do daydreaming of horses, you’d have the finest hand in Williamsburg.” She sighed. “Go along to the well now. Fetch some water and scrub your hand. Mind you get the ink off.”

“Yes, Mother,” said Felicity. She turned to go, but stopped at the door. “Mother,” she asked. “May I help Ben make a delivery?”

“Yes, my lively girl,” laughed her mother. “I know very well there’s no use trying to keep you inside when your mind is already out and away.”

“Thank you, Mother!” said Felicity as she flew out the door.

“Lissie! Your hat!” called her mother. But she was too late. Felicity was already halfway to the well.

Felicity’s hand was still a little wet and a little inky when she rushed down the street to her father’s store. Just as she got there, she saw Ben come out. He stopped and looked up the street toward the silversmith’s shop, then down the street toward the church, as if he were not sure which way to go.

“Ben, do you know the way to Mrs. Fitchett’s house?” Felicity asked.

Ben shrugged. “I’ll find it.”

Ben’s shyness didn’t stop Felicity. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you.”

Ben shrugged again. “As you wish,” he said. Then he was quiet.

Felicity didn’t mind. It was so lovely to be outside. And this was just the kind of afternoon she loved best. She could see a few leaves that had turned bright gold. They were like small banners announcing that summer’s heat was ending and fall’s cool weather was on its way.

Felicity was supposed to be leading Ben, but Ben took such long strides Felicity had to trot to keep up with him. Finally she lifted the hems of her petticoats so that she could take long strides, too. It felt wonderful to be able to stretch her legs.

“Oh, I wish I could wear breeches,” she said.

“What?” asked Ben.

“Breeches,” said Felicity. “Gowns and petticoats are so bothersome. I’m forever stepping on my hem and tripping unless I take little baby steps. Small steps are supposed to look ladylike. But I can’t get anywhere. ’Tis a terrible bother. In breeches your legs are free. You can straddle horses, jump over fences, run as fast as you wish. You can do anything.”

Ben didn’t answer, but he shifted the sack of oats to his other shoulder. Now Felicity could see his face.

“It’s very tiresome to be a girl sometimes,” Felicity went on. “There are so many things a young lady must not do. I’m told the same things over and over again. Don’t talk too loud. Don’t walk too fast. Don’t fidget. Don’t dirty your hands. Don’t be impatient.” Felicity sighed. “It’s very hard. You’re lucky to be a lad. You can do whatever you like.”

Ben shook his head. “I can’t do whatever I like. I’m an apprentice.”

“Oh,” said Felicity. They walked in silence for a while. Then Felicity asked, “Are you happy here in Williamsburg?”

“Happy enough,” said Ben.

“I imagine you miss your family and friends back in Yorktown,” said Felicity. “And I’m sure they miss you, too. If I loved someone, I could never let him go away from me. I would be too miserable and lonely.” She glanced over at Ben. Maybe he was lonely. “You’ll be happier here when you have some friends,” she said.

“Aye,” said Ben. Then he hid his face behind the sack of oats and was quiet again.

Felicity and Ben made their way along the dusty, wide main street of Williamsburg. It was not very busy this afternoon. The city was just beginning to wake up after the hot, sleepy summer. Mrs. Vobe was welcoming some guests to her tavern. The milliner had opened the windows of her shop to catch the first fall breezes. Here and there, peeking out from behind a hedge or a fence, Felicity saw yellow flowers nodding their heads to welcome autumn.

After they delivered the oats to Mrs. Fitchett’s stable, Ben said, “I can find my way to the tannery and home from here.”

Felicity kept right on walking. “Mr. Nye has a new horse, and I’ve a curiosity to see it,” she said. Felicity half expected Ben to tell her to run along home, but he didn’t say anything. Sometimes I’m glad he’s so quiet, thought Felicity. She grinned to herself.

Jiggy Nye’s tannery was on the far edge of the town, out where the neat fenced yards grew ragged and pastures stretched off into the woods. Felicity could smell the tannery vats before she could see the tumbledown tannery shed. The vats were huge kettles full of yellow-brown ooze made of foul-smelling fish oil or sour beer. Mr. Nye soaked animal hides in them to make leather.

“Whoosh!” said Felicity. “The smell of the tannery is enough to make your hair curl!”

“Aye!” said Ben. “The whole business stinks.”

Suddenly they heard angry shouts and a horse’s frightened whinnies.

“Down, ye hateful beast! Down, ye savage!” they heard Mr. Nye yell.

Felicity ran to the pasture gate. She saw Mr. Nye in the pasture, trying to back a horse between the shafts of a work cart. The horse was rearing up and whinnying. It jerked its head and pawed the air with its hooves. Mr. Nye was shouting and pulling on a rope that was tied around the horse’s neck.

“I’ll beat ye down, I will,” yelled Mr. Nye.

Ben caught up with Felicity and pulled her arm. “Stay back,” he ordered.

“No! I want to see the horse,” said Felicity. She stood behind the open gate and stared. The horse was wild-eyed and skinny. Its coat was rough and matted with dirt. Its mane and tail were knotted with burrs. But Felicity could see that it was a fine animal with long, strong legs and a proud, arched neck. “Oh, ’tis a beautiful horse,” whispered Felicity. “Beautiful.”

Mr. Nye and the horse both seemed to hear her at the same moment. The horse calmed and turned toward Felicity. That gave Mr. Nye a chance to tighten the rope around its neck. When the horse felt the rope, it went wild again. Mr. Nye was nearly pulled off the ground when it reared up on its hind legs.

“Ye beast!” Mr. Nye shouted. He glared at Ben and barked, “Help me! Get in here and grab this rope!”

Ben darted into the pen and grabbed the rope with Mr. Nye, but the horse reared and pawed the air more wildly than before.

“I’ll beat the fire out of ye!” shouted Mr. Nye in a rage. He raised his whip to strike the horse.

“No!” cried Felicity. At that, the horse took off across the pasture, dragging Ben and Mr. Nye through the dust. They had to let go of the rope and give up.

Mr. Nye waved his arms and yelled at Felicity, “Get away with ye! You’ve spooked my horse, ye bothersome chit of a girl.”

Felicity called out, “You spooked the horse yourself. You know you did!”

“Arrgh!” Mr. Nye snarled. He turned his redrimmed eyes on Ben and growled, “What are ye doing here?”

“I’ve brought the bit and bridle you ordered from Master Merriman,” Ben said.

Mr. Nye held out his hand. “Give it here.”

Ben stepped back. “I’m to wait for payment,” he said.

“Get away with ye!” shouted Mr. Nye. “Keep your blasted bit. That horse won’t take the bit no matter. Go now, before I take my whip to the two of ye. Hear me?”

Ben turned to go, but Felicity backed away slowly. She couldn’t stop watching the beautiful horse. It was running back and forth across the pasture, trapped inside the fence.

“Felicity, come along!” said Ben.

Felicity turned and followed Ben, but she did not even see the road in front of her. “Isn’t she beautiful, Ben?” Felicity said. “Isn’t she a dream of a horse?”

“Aye,” agreed Ben. “She’s a chestnut mare, a blood horse.”

“That means she’s a thoroughbred, doesn’t it?” said Felicity.

“Aye. It means she was trained to be a gentleman’s mount,” said Ben. “That horse is not bred to drag a work cart.”

“She was never meant to belong to the likes of Mr. Nye!” Felicity exclaimed. “She’s much too fine! Oh, just once I’d love to ride a horse like that!”

“She’d be too fast for you,” said Ben. “You’d never stay on her.” He shook his head grimly. “Besides, that horse won’t trust anyone after the way Mr. Nye is treating her. She won’t let anyone on her back ever again. That horse has gone vicious.”

Felicity heard what Ben said, but she didn’t believe it. She’d seen the look of frantic anger in the horse’s eyes. But Felicity had seen something else, too. Under the wildness there was spirit, not viciousness. Just as under the mud and burrs there was a beautiful reddish-gold coat, as bright as a new copper penny. “Penny,” whispered Felicity.

“What?” asked Ben.

“Penny,” said Felicity. “That’s what I’m going to call that horse. She’s the color of a new copper penny. It’s a good name for her, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” said Ben. “Because she’s an independent-minded horse, that’s for certain. Call her Penny for her independence, too.”

Felicity smiled. From then on, she thought of the horse as Penny—beautiful, independent, bright, shining Penny.

By the time Felicity and Ben walked to the middle of town, the sun was melting on the horizon. They hurried along to the Merrimans’ house.

“Felicity Merriman!” exclaimed her mother. “Wherever have you been all this time?”

“Ben and I stopped out at the tannery,” said Felicity. “And, oh, Mother! We saw the most beautiful horse!”

“A horse?” asked Mrs. Merriman.

Mr. Merriman said, “It’s Jiggy Nye’s new horse, I wager.”

Ben handed him the harness and bit. “Mr. Nye didn’t buy these things, sir. He can’t control the horse enough to harness it. ’Tis a headstrong, independent-minded horse, a bright chestnut mare, and fast as fire.”

“How did Jiggy Nye come to have such a horse?” asked Mrs. Merriman.

“No one knows for sure,” said Ben. “Mr. Nye says he won the horse in a bet from a man who found it straying in the woods. He says the man put a notice in the newspaper. The notice said that whoever lost the horse should come to claim it, but no one ever came. That’s just Mr. Nye’s story, though. It’s hard to trust his word.”

Felicity had never heard Ben talk so much. She was surprised at all he knew.

“It’s a pity Jiggy’s got hold of the horse,” Mr. Merriman said. He shook his head. “It will not end well, I fear.”

Felicity could tell by the look on her father’s face that Penny was in danger. She made up her mind to go back to the tannery and see Penny as soon as she could.