Chapter 1: Chapter 1
A/N: I realized that I had deleted this story from the site. I have no idea why I did that, but here it is again for anyone interested to read this. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.
~Enrich perfection~
Chapter 1
'It is only imperfection that complains of what is imperfect. The more perfect we are, the more gentle and quiet we become towards the defects of others.'
~ Joseph Addison
Adderbury, Oxfordshire, 1676
The rain is pounding hard against the rooftops.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The large open field looks like a huge swamp. The horses are already stuck in the dreadful mud. The young stable boy handling their reins is already ready to collapse from the strain. His hands are bleeding and sweat is sliding down the side of his face, mingling with the heavy drops of rain, but he doesn't stop.
The horses are huffing and neighing in response to the rough handling, but the boy is relentless. Their work is already ruined by the heavy rain, but he will not let the animals die in this weather as well.
The boy lets out a triumphant yell when the two stallions finally, finally, move forward and pull the large cart onward. Their muzzles move from side to side as they struggle with the weight, but they are muscled enough and the young man keeps on forcing them forward. He will take good care of them later.
The wood inside the cart is soaked and it will probably be useless to the household for a while, but still. It'd be a same not to salvage it.
His elation doesn't last long. One of the reins slips from his hold and the already startled horse jumps backwards, the animal's two front legs lurching precariously towards the young man. An undignified yelp escapes his mouth and he stumbles backwards. His back connects with the mud with a loud sloppy sound and severe pain erupts up and down his spine. As a result to his fall, the other horse is set free as well.
Rolling onto his side, he tries to sit up but a horse's hoof is enough to send him down again, howling in pain. He blinks hard in an attempt to see better, but the heavy rain in too much for his eyes.
A hand on his shoulder startles him and he reopens his eyes, the sounds of the horses too loud in his ears. The face that he encounters is enough to make him panic more. It's her again. She needs to stay out of trouble. She never listens.
"Get back!" he yells through the rain and thunder, but the woman simply rises from her kneeling position and gently, albeit a bit inelegantly, makes her way towards the angered animals.
"Shh." The little noise she makes causes the horses' ears to twitch and so she does it again and again until at least one of the stallions is calm enough for her to approach further.
She outstretches her hands, small and roughened from field work, and gently touches the black horse's muzzle with just the tips of her fingers. It neighs threateningly and jolts backwards and she purses her lips, slightly curling them into a tiny smile as she touches it with her full palm.
"/Easy/".
"Leentje!" The boy calls out at her, but she simply leans forwards again, choosing to ignore the sloppy pronunciation of her name. The horse huffs and in a quick move she manages to catch the reins. The horse neighs loudly at the manipulation and she releases a tiny chuckle as she uses her grip on the rope to pull the animal forward. The stallion's long legs have some difficulty in manoeuvring themselves in the sticky mud, but he moves sullenly forward. The dark grey horse beside it follows as well with an objecting neigh that makes the boy laugh.
"All well there?" he calls as he manages to stand up, holding onto his side and hoping that she can at least understand those three simple words.
"Ja." Her response is quiet, too quiet, and he isn't sure if she fully understands his words but the boy shakes his head in amusement while he shots a look at all the other men who are standing safely underneath the cover of the stables. Their leers and snorts are prominent in the air, but the young man expects nothing less. She doesn't seem to mind the taunting. She simple does her work and keeps her eyes lowered.
His lips twitch in disappointment and he only prays that the Earl is not lurking somewhere watching his workmen sit back while they ought to be working. Rumour has it that he is back from London.
All goes relatively well and she manages to pull the animals closer to the stables, but suddenly a thunder jolts the ground underneath their feet and mayhem dominates the scene again. This time, more men move forward as the horses free themselves and manage to tip the cart and its contents over and right into the mud.
The woman is thrown out of balance and she too falls backwards. Her working cap is knocked off her head and her dark hair tumbles down her shoulders in dark soaked strands. Her clothes are soiled to an unrecognizable state and she can feel the sludge sticking to her feet and drawing her deeper into the dirt.
Shouts permit the air and suddenly a pair of gloved hands makes a grab for the flailing reins. The men are stunned into silence as the sound of a whip accompanies the chaos of the storm. The sharp leather falls upon the backs of the rebellious stallions once, but it is enough to send them into compliance.
Leentje wipes her cheek with the back of her hand, the only thing that has been left unsoiled, and sits up as the man manages to quiet the horses down, her features a scowl at the sight of the leather. Her eyes move from the whip and focus on the man's dark brown boots before they slide upwards and towards his long cloak. His hair is past his shoulders and his facial expression is fierce as he moves his stare from the stallions to the dropped, soaked wood. He looks displeased; his mouth is curled as he eyes the animals with reproach.
Who is he?
Her silent question remains unanswered when the man's dark brown gaze falls upon her like a huge tidal wave. She flinches at his displayed disdain.
"Thomas." The way he pronounces the name is clipped and venomous and the boy scrambles to move forward.
"Me Lord?" He sniffs as the rain continues to bat his face.
Lord? Heer? Her eyes widen minutely.
Her confusion rises when the man motions towards her undignified heap of limbs with his uplifted chin.
Thomas' eyes widen and he leans down, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet. She manages to stay upright and boldly looks at the man. Thomas shakes her arm and she turns to him with confusion.
"The Earl of Rochester."
The whisper is too low for her untrained ears. The language is only barely familiar to her, but she quickly understands one word. Rochester. Heer of the house. Master, yes?
Ducking her head in a belated gesture of respect, she is surprised to hear him snort derisively. Looking up a bit, she watches with confusion as he slowly hands the reins over to a servant worker and steps closer to her and Thomas. He doesn't seem too bothered by the rain. His eyes are intense and slightly narrowed, and he is still holding onto the whip.
Thomas quickly releases her and takes a step away as the man approaches them.
"My, my…" he drawls in a smooth deep voice as he taps the leather tip of the whip against the palm of his hand, regarding her with a cocked eyebrow. His gaze travels from her dirty face, to her soaked hair only to move downwards to her over-spilling bodice. It's barely her size and terribly tight and stifling, but she has no other clothes.
The frown that his inspection causes upon her face is enough for him to scowl in displeasure, his handsome features twisting into derisive curves.
"Milkmaid, Thomas? She won't do."
"Me Lord, I-…"
"She ought to be with the animals, not working in the dams. The animals are on the other side of the estate." He is speaking slowly, as if to a child and she looks at him and then at Thomas with a tiny frown. His voice would have been charming if it wasn't so…biting. Even with her limited knowledge of their tongue she can understand the cruel undertone.
"Report to my mother at once. She will know where to… place you."
She knows he is talking to her, Leentje knows, but she can only look up in puzzlement as he stares at her over-curvaceous form with barely contained amusement.
His mocking gaze is enough for her to duck her head again in embarrassment.
"Did you not hear what I said?" The Earl's tone is barely controlled and everyone knows how he hates to be in the rain and mud. The curl of his lip is enough to show his irritation at being delayed by a mere servant.
"Me Lord, she doesn't understand very well. She is new here." Thomas' tone is meek and terribly controlled.
"What do you mean she doesn't understand? She is not deaf, is she?" Rochester is looking at the woman with closer scrutiny now, tapping the whip more rapidly against his gloved palm.
"She's a foreigner." Thomas squints through the rain to look at Rochester.
The Earl pauses and a resigned expression passes over his face before he rolls his eyes, "Fine. Lead her to my mother then." There is annoyance in his voice and a tiny smidgen of boredom.
"No, me Lord. The Countess said there is no other position at the moment. Once Maria is due then there will be an empty placement and she is strong and-…"
"Alright!" he snaps and forcefully smacks Thomas' arm with the whip, "Make sure she doesn't cause such uproar again. Get back inside and tend to the horses. The whips are in the stables for a reason. Use them." He eyes the younger man with exasperation and then turns away, "Be here at five tomorrow. Away!" He shoos the men out of his way by flourishing the whip and then stomps towards the large manor, his strides wide and rapid.
Leentje watches him go and she scowls at his back. Thomas' hand invades her vision and she is startled.
"Oi." She looks at him and he shakes his head, "Never stare. You never know what he'll do. Stoppen." He mutters in her mother language and she quickly nods. Satisfied with her reply, he waves towards the barricade that leads to the stables and straight to the workers' cabins.
Moving swiftly, she moves forward and Thomas follows her closely, his expression fatigued.
Stopping suddenly, Leentje turns around again and gently leans down and picks up her dirty cap. Folding it in two and looking at it morosely, she turns around once more and heads for the stables in small, shaky and graceless strides.
End of chapter 1
Author's note: So…Liked it? Hated it? Let me know. It gets more…interesting as we go on. Promise. Leentje's back story and roots will be revealed in the next chapters. Also, her name is pronounced Leen-tke. And it is a pet name. Her actual name will be revealed in the next chap.
*Translations:
Ja= yes
Heer= Lord
Stoppen= stop it*