Willow couldn't believe that women wore these things. When Spike was helping her lace up her corset this morning she had to remind him that she needed to breathe. And he reminded her that she needed to fit into the dress. When she saw the waist of it, she didn't blink for about thirty seconds. Nobody's waist was that tiny. Willow knew that she was small but not even she could have hoped to fit into the dress without some help. So the corset got laced and she was now wishing that Spike had never been born. It was all his fault that she was stuck back in time and had to wear the damn thing in the first place. So all day through her chores she was cursing his name.
She had never been afraid of doing her chores in Sunnydale. As an only child most of the household chores fell on her to do over the years as her parents were really busy working all the time. They left early in the morning and arrived home late every night. She cooked, she cleaned, she did the laundry, and she even did a good bit of the grocery shopping. But none of that compared to what she had to do now. This was backbreaking labor and there was never an end to it. Yesterday they had done all the laundry in the house and seeing as to how the Bells were well off it wasn't a small house. They did all the linens and clothes. Boiling pot after pot of water and soaking the clothes and then rubbing the material against washing boards with soap and then rinsing them all off, wringing them out and hanging them up to dry. It took all afternoon. It was no wonder that from what she gathered this wasn't a chore they did all that often. She wasn't offered dinner so when morning rolled around she was starving.
When she entered the main house, she realized that the men weren't up yet. On the kitchen table were mounds of potatoes. Mrs. Bell came in and ordered her to start peeling. Willow had peeled potatoes before but she had always used a vegetable peeler, what sat before her now was a small dull looking knife. She sat down and did her best to peel the first potato. It was awkward and slow but she was managing.
"The dress fits you well. You'll have to do something about those shoes at some point, but at least you aren't wearing clothes meant for the menfolk anymore," Emma said as she began to peel a potato with much more speed and precision. Willow tried to follow her hand movements and mimic them.
Willow's back already hurt from being in a corset so she just nodded, smiled, and said, "Thank you so much for sparing it for me."
"It was the Christian thing to do. I should see if I have any extra hair pins. It isn't right for your hair to be down." She was already halfway through her second potato while Willow was still working on her first.
"My hair is so short I don't know if I'd be able to get it to stay up. Yours looks so nice. Mine would never look like that." Willow was trying to be as complimentary as possible. She did think that Emma's hair looked nice, but she had no real desire for her hair to be pulled back in the same fashion. But she reminded herself that that didn't matter now. She was going to have to do what she could to fit in. If that meant finding a way to pull her hair back, she'd do it.
Thoughts of 1998 threatened but Willow suppressed them. She knew that at some point she was going to think about all and everyone she had lost and she knew when that happened she wouldn't be able to stop herself from crying. She couldn't allow tears right now. There was too much to do. In these times people expected a lot for little payment. She knew that if she expected to have a roof over her head then she was going to have to continue working around the house. So she concentrated everything she had on peeling potatoes.
When they were finally done peeling potatoes it was time to cook them. While this kitchen was furnished with an oven, she learned that they were lucky to have it. Most of the cooking was done over the fire. Willow was completely out of her depth. She was relieved when Emma started the fire while she went out to fetch water from the well right outside the kitchen.
Breakfast was pounds of boiled potatoes and lots of milk. Willow couldn't eat all of hers and was relieved when Spike finished off her portion.
"You'll be hungry again before long with the way you eat," Mrs. Bell said as they cleaned the kitchen.
"I'm not used to eating so much at once. I'm used to eating a few small meals a day. Unless it's pizza, I can eat a whole pizza by myself if I don't watch it." Willow had to stop herself from slapping a hand over her mouth for forgetting where and when she was.
"What's pizza?" Emma asked.
"It's a food they make in Italy. It's round, flat bread, with tomato sauce and cheese and herbs. It's really good." She was going to miss pizza. And chocolate. And peanut butter. And everything. If there was anything she knew about the Irish it was that they ate a lot of potatoes. She had a feeling she was going to hate potatoes before very long. And when it came time to prepare lunch she knew she was right. More potatoes.
XxXx
The work wasn't hard once Spike knew what he was doing. It didn't tire him out or anything being that he was a vampire. It was just he had to be told how to do everything and that grated his nerves. Every time Ian corrected him, he wanted to rip the man's throat out. But he knew if he did that it would, if nothing else, piss off the witch. And he believed, that if he did anything she disapproved of she would find a way to make him pay for it. She might not be able to kill him but that didn't mean she couldn't hurt him. And she was a witch. There was no telling what she might eventually be able to pull off. But there was a more immediate reason not to piss her off. She was a hot running tap of the best blood he ever tasted and she was a willing victim. He'd be a lunatic to pass that up.
He saw her at breakfast and again at lunch. He had no desire to eat the food, but it would be suspicious if he didn't so he ate it without complaint. Before he went back to work after lunch he pulled Willow aside. "We need to talk about how long we're going to continue doing this."
She gave him the most curious look. "What do you mean? We have to keep this up until we find a way to leave town. You need to talk to Arlen about what we have to do to earn money."
"If money is all we need. I can get us money in a few hours and we can be on our way."
Her eyes went wide. "You are not robbing anyone!" she whisper-yelled. "I don't want to know what the effects of a vampire robbing someone would be. People would believe that story in these times. It wouldn't get blown off as superstitious nonsense."
"I wouldn't have to leave a witness, pet."
"History, Spike. It could alter history. And I doubt you care about penicillin being invented, but I doubt even you would want the Nazis to win World War II." Her arms were akimbo now and she was glaring at him.
"Ack, German, such an ugly language. I wouldn't want to have to learn it." He didn't care much about the Nazis.
"What if what you did made it so that Drusilla was never born?" she asked looking smug and rightfully so. She had him by the balls.
"Fine we'll do this your way, but just remember that this was your idea. I don't think that robbery without hurting anyone would really change anything. I could use a knife you know. How are you holding up with all the work?" he asked trying one last time to make a case for himself.
"I'm fine. And I better get back in there before Mrs. Bell starts to think I'm blowing her off." With that the redhead flounced back into the house, looking beyond cute in the green dress and red sneakers. He thought if working in the corset didn't change her mind then when she finally got shoes that went with the dress, she might change her tune.
He went back to chopping wood. At least chopping wood was a little cathartic. It helped him get some of his aggravations out about the fact another one of his plans had gotten royally screwed up. He probably should've waited until he was sober to make this plan. And he should have read the fine print on the spell. He was feeling really stupid and if he couldn't be out there killing people to get over it then cutting wood wasn't that bad of a replacement. Once he got the right motion down he was making Ian look like an amateur and that made him feel better too. He was beginning to really hate Ian.
Once that was done. The animals were in from working in the fields and it was time to rub them down.
Dinner wasn't even offered to him or Willow, though he knew that Willow helped cook the meal. He caught a glimpse of her in the kitchen when he went with Ian to get a drink of water from the well. Dinner smelled like mutton and surprise surprise... potatoes.
When Willow came out to the barn for the night, he could tell she was in something of a state. She was walking with her back perfectly straight, her chin held high, but her eyes were starting to tear up.
"What's wrong?" he asked irritated that she would be so whiney.
"Leave me alone, this is all your fault." She climbed up to the loft.
Not even he could argue with the fact that this was his fault. He sat at the bottom of the stairs and listened to her cry. After about ten minutes he heard her start to curse.
"Damn it. I hate this thing. Stupid piece of crap makes it impossible to even get undressed alone."
He knew she was doing battle with her corset. "I can come up and help if you want."
"Fine," she growled.
He was up the ladder in a trice. She was standing in the corner with the dress hanging over a railing. She had gotten the laces untied but was having trouble loosening them enough to get the garment off. He helped her out and she wiggled out of the thing and set it off to the side.
"Mid-evil torture device." She tucked her shift under her and sat on the old, rather soft hay. It wasn't the fresh stiff kind that poked you every time you moved.
"Do you need to eat every night?" she asked, crying silent tears.
"I get hungry every night," was the answer he gave her. He didn't want to skip a night if he could avoid it.
"Then can we get it over with? I want to sleep." She brushed her tears away and faced him, but still refused to look at him.
He took her in his arms again, her soft warm body pressed against him, and he drank from her. He paid attention to exact moment she went limp in his arms and the exact moment her heart stopped beating. This was bliss.
Laying her down, he curled up next to her again. He watched her until her heart started to beat again and then he lay his own head down on the pillow of his coat. Tonight though she woke up before he fell asleep. She was crying again. He could hear it in her breathing.
"The worst part is... I understand why you did what you did. Love makes people do wacky things."
He expected her to scoot away from him and throw his arm from the position it was in, casually draped over her. But she didn't. She turned onto her side and fell asleep. He figured she had to be exhausted from a hard day of working.
XxXx
In the next week Willow mostly got used to the corset. It was the shoes she was having a hard time with now. Emma knew that her friend Mary had feet about the size of Willow's and asked the woman if she had any shoes she could spare. The woman had a pair of shoes that she wasn't happy with because they didn't have much of a heel. Mary from what Willow could tell from her one meeting with the woman was richer than Emma, but kind. The shoes were a little big on Willow but Willow didn't complain. She was grateful that these women were helping her at all. The shoes however were stiff leather and they chaffed. She knew that if it weren't for her new healing capabilities her feet would be covered in blisters. Still her feet were terribly sore and she missed her sneakers with every step.
She did tell Mary Young that if there was anything she could ever do for her in return for the shoes, to just ask. So it wasn't a huge surprise to see Mary again today. A day when Emma's normal household help returned to work after having been sick for a week and Willow was no longer all that needed around the house.
"Ah, young Mrs. Jones. Just the woman I was looking for. I think I may have found something that will help your scenario," Mrs. Young said as she walked up the drive. She was an older woman by this time's standard and her blonde hair had some gray in it.
"It's good to see you," Willow responded putting down her cup of water and walking to greet the woman. "How have you been?"
"I've been fairing well. But I had to come see you today because I had the most interesting conversation with Mrs. Walker last night." Mary leaned into Willow like she was talking conspiratorially. "It turns out that the woman she had watching her children was caught stealing from them and they are now looking for a new nanny. I immediately thought of you, since you and your husband need the money. I already put in a good word for you since Emma thinks highly of you. I know that Chloe is due back anytime now and Emma won't be needing the help around the house. So this seems perfect."
"Chloe came back today," Willow informed. "I'm so thankful you thought of me. How should I go about this? Do I go and talk to Mrs. Walker?"
She gave Willow a strange look. "You should have your William talk to Mr. Walker. They'll discuss all the details. They paid the Brown girl 2 shillings a week. Make sure that your William accepts no less. I don't want you to get cheated and Richard Walker is a right cheap one he is."
Willow nodded and remembered her history. While the women seemed to make the deals in reality, the men still had to make it official.
"You wouldn't by chance know how to read would you?" Mrs. Young asked.
"I can read very well, actually. I started learning when I was three." Willow hoped this helped her chances with getting this job.
"Oh delightful. You should have your William mention that to Richard and ask for a shilling more a week. They've been trying to teach the children themselves but it would be so much easier on them if you could do the lessons with the children." Mary seemed very happy with herself. "This should work out nicely."
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Young. I appreciate everything you're doing for me. When we were robbed we lost everything and we thought for sure we were doomed. But between the Bells and you I really feel we have a fighting chance to get back on our feet."
"Please call me Mary. And I'm happy to help. I just can't believe you have no family that you can call on to help you out in your time of need." Mary put a hand to her heart.
"Well my husband was the last of his family. His mother died in childbirth and his father died a couple of years ago. He has no brother's or sisters. And my sister won't even take my letters anymore. She's still upset that William didn't pick her even though she didn't even like him. And my parents were killed by robbers when I was little." Willow was reciting the story that her and Spike had made up to explain what happened to their families.
"Did your William have a hard time choosing between you and your sister?" Mary seemed very interested in this bit of gossip.
"No. Lily just assumes that everyone will fall at her feet. She's very beautiful. But my William wanted me because I'm better at holding a conversation." Willow said weaving a little bit of a tale. She'd have to make sure to tell Spike about it later.
Mary sighed. "He wanted a true companion. That's very rare. And you got to marry for love. I got married because that was what was expected of me. It took a while for me and my Conor to even become friends."
Willow put a hand on the older woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that. But you seem happy now."
Mrs. Young smiled at Willow. "Conor takes very good care of me. There isn't anything I could want for. And we've grown quite fond of each other over the years. Though we are known to have our quarrels from time to time. I would say I couldn't want more from life." Her eyes lit up. "If your William is going to talk to Richard Walker he might want to take a bath before he does so. You are both welcome to come and bathe at my house before having such a meeting. Speaking of which. You should go with your William when he meets with Richard so you can show him your reading skills. I'll even lend you a book to take with you."
"Oh, Mary," Willow gushed. "How can I ever repay you?"
"You can keep me company every once in a while. Perhaps on Sundays after church you could spend a couple hours with me. Now we really must figure out what we are going to do about your hair. If Emma can spare you, I think I'll steal you away now and we'll work on it at my house."
That was how Willow ended up with a job at the Walker house taking care of their three young children. Her first day there was Monday. Sitting between her and her first day of work at the Walker's was something that worried her.
Church.
