think this is what Firkin does the wash in if he does, but we have a woman in once a week for such things. What else do you need?"
"Water," Amy said. "Hot would be best, but I think we must make do with cold. There's no time to heat any if this is to be washed and dried. I need soap. I don't suppose you have any borax?"
"Not as far as I know." Harry passed over the bar of soap, then applied the pump and filled a bucket with water. As he poured it in the tub, Amy was paring fine strips off the soap into a dish full of the last hot water from the kettle.
Two buckets of water half filled the tub, and Amy poured in the liquid soap. Then she picked up the muddy lump which had been Beryl's blue stripe cambric and carried it at arm's length to the tub. Being careful not to splash herself, Amy sloshed the dress around and the water grew very muddy, very quickly.
"Good Lord," said Harry. "It's blue."
"Was," Amy said sadly. "It was my sister's favorite dress."
Harry was about to ask why she had been wearing it, especially on a mundane trip to pick up hens, but held his tongue. His original assumption of poverty was doubtless correct, and there could be all sorts of embarrassing reasons for the act.
He watched as she picked up the dress and banged it down, working out the dirt as best as she could. There was something strangely erotic about this delicate-looking beauty up to her elbows in suds. Perhaps it was seeing the silky roundness of her arms proving to be so capable.
She stood up with a sigh. "I think we'd better try fresh water."
Harry obediently tipped out the dirty water and filled the tub again. He'd never even considered the matter of laundry before, and here he was taking an active part. It was obvious that Amy de Lacy was familiar with the process. More evidence of abject poverty.
He imagined this poor family come down in the world and living in a cottage with only one good dress between them. It doubtless explained Miss de Lacy's self-possession while dressed so strangely. Perhaps, he thought - allowing his imagination full rein - they all wore blankets at home while waiting for their turn with the dress.
She was going to be overwhelmed when he asked her to marry him. He would provide all the comforts of life for her destitute family, and she would fall deeply in love with him.
"Do you have just the one sister?" he asked as she worried over the dress with the bar of soap, trying to get out some of the dirt around the hem.
"No, two," she answered readily. "Beryl's my older sister and Jacinth's my younger."
"Do you have any brothers?"
"Just one. Jasper."
He made the connection. "Beryl, Jasper, Jacinth, all living at Stonycourt. Your parents must have been of a humorous disposition."
She looked up with a rueful smile. "Whimsical, at least."
"They should have called you Sapphire." It was out before he could stop it.
She looked slightly disappointed in him but merely said, "Or Aquamarine."
"How did you escape with Amy?"
"Simple good fortune," she said, once more bent to her work.
In the end she had to accept that she'd done all she could. The gown was now blue and the stripes could be seen, but there were heavy dirt stains fixed in the material, particularly around the hem. Amy hauled the garment out of the water and wrung it out as best she could, which wasn't very well. "I don't suppose you have a mangle," she said.
"I'm afraid not."
She looked around thoughtfully. "Do you mind the floor getting wetter?"
Harry looked down at the stone flags, which were awash with muddy water. "All the better to wash it with, I'd suppose."
She passed him the bodice of the dress and took the hem end herself. "Twist."
"Twist?"
He saw what she was doing and began to turn the cloth in the opposite direction, keeping it taut all the while. Water began to pour out.
"This can't be doing the garment much good," he pointed out.
"This garment is past its last prayers," said Amy twisting harder.
"Perhaps I should buy you a new one," he said.
"Why?" she asked with a blankly mystified look. "This is none of your doing."
Harry accepted it. He could hardly explain that he didn't want his future wife in rags, but he began to plan a wardrobe for her. He had never been