IV
The mild spring weather soon turned biting, and fall turned brusquely to winter. As the weather grew colder, Felicity grew taller, and subsequently out of her clothes. She fashioned shoes from scraps of leather, and sewed old horse blankets into cloaks, but the hems of her skirts were nearing indecent, and her sleeves were tight, even on her slender arms. Despite her inadequate garments, there was no frost or chill that would keep her from meeting Ben.
They still met at the post, moving onward from there, although Jiggy Nye no longer bound her to it with rope. He made it clear that should she run away, he would come after her, and a late return always resulted in fierce punishments. Ben couldn't bear the thought that his prolonged enjoyment of her presence would mean more beatings, and it was often his urging that sent her back to the tannery before the allotted time.
Ben always brought food, and an extra cloak for colder days, for nothing he did could persuade Felicity to leave his side sooner than necessary, and her horse blanket was insufficient in keeping her warm.
Today, she trotted out, stumbling somewhat as she tried to avoid newly formed snow drifts and icy puddles. Ben hurried to help her, lifting her up by the elbows until she felt far enough from the tannery, sheltered behind trees that had not been taken by the frost yet while the rush of the creek made a comforting backdrop. She seemed to Ben more aloof than usual; she kept her eyes averted and her hands tucked inside her rough cloak. At first, Ben thought her nervous to be out, and he asked if he should go. She shook her head, a decided, vehement no.
"I have something for you." He reached within his cloak and pulled out a square shaped parcel, bound with string. "It's wool, for… for a warmer dress. I wrote to my sisters and asked how much it would take. I bought extra, in case you wanted to make mittens."
Felicity's eyes brimmed with tears as they so often did when offered kindness. He held it out to her and she cringed inside the cover of her cloak.
Ben mistook her reaction for fear of discovery, and said, "Mr. Merriman thinks it's for my sister. No one suspects you."
She shook her head, sniffles turning to sobs. Still, her hands did not move from under the cloak, except to pull it tighter around her.
"Are you afraid he'll be angry? Will he really mind if it's a gift?"
She drew her knees up and bowed her head, unable to be consoled.
"Felicity…" Ben felt so helpless in that everything he did for her seemed to go awry.
"It hurts…" she cried, "It hurts so much, and I can't sew mittens for them!"
"What hurts, Lissie? What is it?"
Keeping her head down, she pushed her little hands out of the cloak to show the damage done. Ben let out a cry. Her hands had been burned—ravaged, more like, with some kind of unnatural chemical. Her hands were cracked and red in places, blistered in others. Pieces of her skin looked like wax dripping from a candle.
"What…" he laboured to keep his voice calm, "What happened?"
"He made me clean the leathers with something that smelled bad. I spilled it on my hands and it burned. He yelled and said I was a stupid child, then sent me away. I didn't know, Ben! I didn't know it would burn!"
"Of course not!" he said, wanting to take her hands and restore and kiss them like she had for him only months prior, but it looked as if any contact would only increase her pain. Instead, he picked her up, set her in his lap, and let her cry into his shirt as her damaged hands curled sadly at her sides. Stroking her hair, he said, "I'll find someone else to make the dress and mittens. Miss Manderly makes clothes. I'll ask her on my next delivery."
Ben went home that day, determined to give Lissie a better life.
Author's Apologies:
I'm so sorry! I can't believe I did this, but I got my update days mixed up and posted my H2O story last night (a little early) instead of this! I'm such an addlepated nit! It's still Friday for my time zone, but later than a respectable posting hour. My deepest apologies! I'll try my best not to repeat the mistake!