The Betrayal of Maggie Blair - By Elizabeth Laird Page 0,53

my bundle taken from me and set down on the floor. I felt so shy of the ring of faces staring at me, and so overwhelmed by tiredness and tears, that I could hardly bring out a word in answer to my uncle's questions.

"Let the girl sleep," he said at last. "We'll hear all about it in the morning." He nodded at the girl standing by the dresser. She was about my age and size. "Grizel, you'll make room in your bed for Maggie."

He had already slid open one of the wooden doors that lined the wall to show a bed in the cupboard behind it. The room quickly emptied. The two men and the boy went outside again, and I heard their steps retreat toward the barn. The girl, Grizel, had reached into the bed and brought out a linen shift. I stared as she took off her woolen gown and underskirt, and slipped the shift over her head. I'd never known anyone to have special clothes for the night. Uncertainly, I unwrapped my bundle and took out my father's shirt, ashamed to see, in the last faint glimmer of light through the window, how grimed and stiff with dirt it was, but I took off my dress and put it on anyway.

Grizel hopped up on to the bed, and I started to climb in after her. A sleepy mumbling from the recess startled me.

"It's only the little ones," Grizel said, picking up a child and shifting it aside. I couldn't tell from her voice if she was well-disposed to me or not.

Tomorrow, I thought, my limbs so heavy with tiredness that I could hardly find the strength to turn over on to my side. I'll worry about that tomorrow.

Grizel leaned across me to slide the door across, and we were enclosed in dense, stuffy darkness. Through the mists of sleep engulfing me, I heard my uncle and aunt settle themselves in the box bed beside ours and the murmur of their voices.

"How do you know," I thought I heard her say, "that she's not been sent to spy on us?" but the words made no sense to me. I heard my uncle's answer, calm and reassuring, and then all was blotted out in sleep.

***

A rapping on the door startled me awake. I jerked upright, not knowing where I was. The door opened. A glow of morning light shone in, making me blink.

Ladymuir, I whispered to myself. I made it. I'm safe.

Grizel was already climbing over me. Two wriggling little figures scrambled after her. They stood staring back into the bed, astonished at the sight of a stranger there.

"That's Martha," Grizel said, pointing to the bigger of the two girls, whose solemn blue eyes were round with wonder.

"And she's Nanny."

The smaller one, hearing her name, shrank behind her sister.

"You'd best get your clothes on quick," Grizel said, "before the others come in for their breakfast."

I jumped out of bed and fumbled to put my clothes on, screwing up my father's shirt to hide its filth and bundling it back into the bed.

"Mistress won't like that," Grizel said reprovingly, picking it up to fold it neatly. "You'd best wash it, anyway. Look at the state it's in!"

I saw disgust on her face, but I had taken courage from the word "mistress." Grizel was a servant, not a daughter of the family. I needn't be too afraid of her.

The room, which had been empty, was suddenly full of people.

"Blow up the fire, Grizel," Aunt Blair was saying. "Get the porridge on." She turned to the boy. "Ritchie, fetch in water. What's the matter with everyone this morning? You're all half asleep."

She didn't look at me or greet me, and my heart sank. I didn't know what to do or how to occupy myself. I stood in the corner like a great fool, with everyone bustling around me. Then I saw that little Nanny was struggling to set her cap on her head, so I knelt down beside her, tucked her long fair locks behind her ears, and tied the strings under her chin.

Uncle Blair came in from outside, ducking his head under the lintel.

"Good, Maggie, good. Making yourself useful already." He shot a quick glance at his wife, but she was stirring the pot suspended over the fire and didn't turn around. He smiled at me again, but a faint frown wrinkled his forehead. "You'll be wanting to wash your face and hands. Grizel will show you the well."

A fiery blush

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