Part VIII - Rogues and Redheads
As they began to look for a place to spend the night, Millicent took her scarf and very carefully tied it in place so that all of her hair was hidden beneath it. The pair found a room for rent not far from the telegraph office and Millicent asked for and got a small pot to boil water in.
"Thank you so much, madame. You may smell cloves later. Our dear mother always made us take clove tea to ward off a cold, especially when traveling."
"Ah - my mother did the same. Our mothers were wise. Doctors think they know so much, but who nursed the families before they came along? The mothers of the world."
"So true. Thank you again for your kindness, madame. Sleep well."
Once they had made their way to the room and the door was shut, Millicent just smiled and removed her scarf before she began to heat the water. While the water was heating, she sliced up some of the rosehips, broke up the cloves slightly and bruised the paprika seeds, adding all of them to the teacup as Waverly watched the proceedings from a nearby chair. Once the water was boiling, she carefully added the water to the cup and allowed the contents to steep. He could see then why she had made mention of it to their temporary landlady - the smell of cloves did carry strongly.
Millicent occasionally stirred the contents, but did nothing else until the cup had cooled to room temperature. Then she carefully used a spoon to pull out the clove pieces and the seeds before pressing the remaining pieces of rosehip against the side of the cup. Once she seemed satisfied, she carefully spooned out the rest of the solids as best as she could. The remains of those solids were tossed into the fire.
Taking the pitcher out of the bowl that served as the room's wash basin, Millicent went behind a screen and came back wearing the pink outfit that she had been wearing when he first saw her along with a pair of leather gloves. She took down her hair and dampened it, then began to add some of the liquid from the cup to her hair a little at a time, combing it through until the cup was emptied, then continued to comb in through a bit longer before rinsing her hair out. Then she combed it near the fire until her hair was thoroughly dried. It might not have made a huge difference to the hair of most women, but her pale blonde took on the reddish tone of the liquid. She had also very carefully rubbed a small amount over her eyebrows using the finger of her glove.
Standing up once she had finished, she did a slow turn for him. Her hair was what he'd often heard called a strawberry blonde, reddish with golden tones. The gloves and the pink outfit were stained, but he doubted she'd have ever cared to wear them again regardless.
"I have to admit that it does make a considerable change to your appearance, Millicente. Am I to assume you have similar intentions for my hair?"
Looking at his light brown hair tone, she nodded.
"The change won't be nearly as much on you and not so huge that people will wonder, but out in the sunlight, the red will show and with both of us having reddish hair, people will start making the assumption that we are related for us. We will need to continue treating our hair, though. Far from permanent."
"But for now, if they come looking for a twelve year old blond child, they hopefully will not see her in the apparently fourteen year old strawberry blonde, eh? Something you also learned from your mother, I presume?"
"You presume correctly. The dancer in her, I suppose. She enjoyed altering her hair with her moods. I believe that had she been able, she would have done the same with her eye color."
By the time another batch had been made and his own hair treated and dried, they were both quite ready for sleep. Millicent made sure that they both wrapped their pillows with some of the darker of their clothing so that none of the dye would rub off on the pillowcases. No good to dye their hair, after all, if they left behind a woman that might complain long and loud about the pair that left reddish stains on her linens.
In the morning, Millicent restyled her hair a bit to fit more in with the fashions she had seen on the women around the area while Waverly got used to the difference in his own appearance in a looking glass. When they went downstairs at the invitation of their landlady for breakfast, they were already packed and ready to be on their way. The woman hadn't seen Alexander in a strong light before and hadn't seen Millicent's hair at all, so the changes brought no comment from her.
They were heading out to collect their bicycles when there was a bit of commotion from the telegraph office. A glance over had Millicent turning her head back away quickly, though she was carefully not to hurry any of her other movements. The reaction had not been lost on Waverly and he reached out a hand to her arm, her slight trembling apparent to his touch if not to his eye.
"I believe the time has come to continue our trip, sister dear."
The blue eyes flashed him a look of gratitude and she took a deep breath to steady herself.
"Right as always, brother dear."
The man that she had recognized from the Foreign Office gave a brief glance their direction, but paid no attention at all to the pair of cyclists as they pedaled off in the morning light.
