Vermilion ~ Twelve: Stable Hand

[annarti.livejournal.com]

The stable hand accepted the reins to the carriage with a weary smile. ‘That must be just about all of them by now,’ she said as she patted the zebra’s shoulder. ‘They won’t have much time to get ready if they arrive much later.’

The chauffeur rested her hands on her knees and sat back in the coach seat. ‘Two more,’ she replied. ‘Both sent messengers on ahead to apologise for their delay but they’ll be here in time.’ She turned to look downstream, presumably where the last two processions would be arriving from. ‘Nice view you have here. I can’t see them until they approach the gates from my post.’

The stable hand grinned and set about removing the tack from the zebra, who tossed his head a little with impatience. ‘Hush now, your journey’s over. You can rest and get your strength back for the journey home in a week.’

‘Hmph!’ the chauffeur laughed, and the stable hand looked up at her friend. ‘You don’t recognise the carriage? They’ve only come from The Birches. They would have just left this morning.’ She shook her head and crossed one leg elegantly over the other. ‘It’s always the closest guests who are the latest to arrive.’

‘Now, don’t you listen to her,’ the stable hand told the zebra, clasping its face with both hands and looking into his deep brown eyes. ‘I don’t think she could make it to The Birches in less than a day.’

The chauffeur laughed again and shook her head. ‘While I have a minute, though,’ she said, her voice smooth and sly.

The stable hand grinned broadly back at her over the zebra’s back. ‘All of it, true,’ she confirmed. ‘Whatever you’ve heard, it’s true.’

Her friend gave her the immense satisfaction of raising her eyebrows in shock, a most undignified expression that the stable hand rarely had the pleasure of seeing on the castle staff in uniform. ‘Truly? He actually asked her for tea?’

She nodded eagerly.

‘And he gave her a flower?’

She nodded again, pulling the coarse brush from her belt. ‘And he picked one to match her dress perfectly. Oh, you should have been there! It was like something out of a ballad. He took of his hat and bowed to her and everything. I’m so proud.’

‘I do hope it works out for him,’ the chauffeur said with a wistful sigh. ‘Did it seem she accepted through politeness or through a genuine desire to tea with him?’

‘Politeness,’ the stable hand replied with a shrug, then set about brushing down the zebra’s sweaty coat. ‘But doesn’t that prove her worth all the more? She’s a noble woman, surrounded this week especially this week by potential suitors, and yet she’ll give our humble gardener a chance, the same as any of them.’

‘I hope you’ll keep me abreast of any and all developments.’

‘Without doubt!’ the stable hand agreed. ‘As I’m sure you will with any and all developments with Master Vermilion.’

‘Which reminds me,’ the chauffeur said as she straightened her gloves. ‘He and a group of guests will be visiting town this afternoon to see the players, so if you could have a coach ready in an hour that would be perfect.’

‘And is the Mistress Greendale a part of this party?’

‘Of course! And her noble brother and parents, too, as I understand it. I’m wondering if the rumour has made it to the noble circles, or if they simply all enjoy a little theatre.’

The stable hand pursed her lips to avoid a grin. ‘Oh, wouldn’t that be terrible for them? To learn they’re all merely props to our Master Vermilion’s elaborate performance.’

Her friend’s face looked serious for a moment. ‘Maybe we should warn him,’ she mused. ‘We don’t want every noble in the region to believe him to be rebuking them. He should at the least give the appearance he’s giving all the others a chance.’

Finished with brushing the zebra’s coat, the stable hand led him over to the wall and began sluicing him with buckets of water. The zebra shook his head and made happy snuffling sounds as his coat twitched under the refreshing bath.

‘He has more sense than that, surely,’ she argued, feeling compelled to protect the one she loved, even if he didn’t glance twice at her. ‘It’s obvious enough to us—we know him—but you and I don’t see behind the closed doors of their luncheons and their entertainment. I’m sure he’s entertaining them all as equals there.’ She threw a towel over the zebra’s back and began rubbing him down. ‘What’s the butler saying, or Master Vermilion’s valet?’

The chauffeur sighed and shook her head. ‘You’re right, of course. Maybe I’m only reading too much into things again.’

The stable hand nodded to herself in satisfaction, and continued rubbing the zebra dry. He seemed to enjoy the process immensely, and she smiled at his excited head tosses and horsey snuffles.

‘You still miss him, don’t you?’ the chauffeur said out of nowhere.

The stable hand shrugged and didn’t look up, knowing exactly who her friend was talking about. ‘How can I miss what I never had?’ she asked. ‘He’s not like our mistress. He’ll act all friendly with us common classes, joke with us and offer his help and his coin, but he’d never go so far as to court one of us. Much as he wants to be loved by his subjects, he’s a noble, through and through.’

‘Oh, don’t be so fatalist,’ the chauffeur said, not unkindly. ‘He said this to you himself, did he? I don’t believe anyone can say where their heart truly lies, until they find just where it fits. You were bold enough with our mistress this afternoon, why not ask him yourself?’

The zebra was dry, but she kept rubbing him down just because he enjoyed it so much. Or so she told herself. In truth, she didn’t want to lose her distraction. ‘I did,’ she mumbled, in a voice barely loud enough to be heard. She hadn’t admitted that to anyone before except her oldest childhood friend, the gardener, because he was the only one who she could trust to keep her secret. But if the chauffeur was going to keep nagging her as she did, maybe it would be less painful to tell her. ‘And that was just what he told me in return.’

Her friend was silent. ‘Truly?’ she said in a soft voice, full of sympathy. ‘He said all that?’

‘Not in so many words. He told me he was flattered but that I wasn’t his type, but that I shouldn’t be discouraged because none of the women in Candlewood were his type, either.’

When her friend said nothing in reply, no word of encouragement or contradiction as she expected, the stable hand looked up and pulled the towel from the zebra’s back.

The chauffeur had folded her arms and was frowning thoughtfully at nothing. ‘None of the… Hmm. Oh, honey, I think you’ve been hearing him all wrong. None of the women in Candlewood are his type.’

She frowned as she tossed the dirtied towel into the corner and took the zebra’s bridle. She wasn’t sure just what her friend was saying. ‘Of course. Because we’re all commoners.’

‘No,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘Because we’re all women.’

Now the stable hand laughed and shook her head. ‘Now you’re definitely reading too much into things! He’s doing his level best to court Mistress Greendale, remember? Having her fortune read, draping her over his arm all around town, buying her jewellery and the like.’

The chauffeur’s face fell. ‘I’d forgotten about the fortune. The colour vermilion is pretty telling, isn’t it?’

The stable hand nodded, then shrugged and turned a bright but false smile on her friend. ‘Thank you for trying to cheer me up, though, I appreciate it.’ She glanced past the carriage towards the river at the bottom of the valley, where she could see a procession of five carriages trundling along the road. ‘Looks like your services are required again. Seems that the last of them have all turned up at once.’

The chauffeur turned to follow her gaze. ‘So it would seem.’ She jumped down and straightened her waistcoat. ‘I’ll be back in an hour or so to collect Master Vermilion’s carriage. He’s ordered one to fit eight.’

‘Certainly,’ she agreed as she stroked the zebra’s nose. ‘And please, don’t mention this to anyone, will you?’

‘I will lie about it until my teeth turn black,’ her friend promised with a courtly bow.

‘Thank you,’ the stable hand replied with a smile to match. She watched as her friend walked back towards the castle, then led the zebra into the stables to its stall. ‘But wouldn’t it be fun if he were?’

Comments

[ladylight.livejournal.com]

Hmmmmm. There is something mysterious in all this gossip. You are preparing for some sort of sneaky suplex move.

Poor stable hand. I do like her. But she can do better than a RED COAT >_>

(damn, now I miss mesmercoats)

[annarti.livejournal.com]

(Mesmercoats and mesmerboots, man. They make Llayad.)