VI
Felicity cringed before the onslaught of another blow. Jiggy Nye was in a particularly foul mood, and nothing she could do appeased him—if anything, her failed attempts just made it worse.
So she held her breath and closed her eyes and tried not to make too much noise when he surprised her with another hard fist to the mouth that left her crumpled on the floor.
"Did I tell ye to talk back?!" he raged. And muttering, "That'll teach ye..." he finally disappeared to his room.
Felicity waited until the tell-tale shuffle of his heavy boots had stopped and were replaced by the sounds of his settling in bed. He would likely sleep until supper. Felicity pulled herself to her feet with the help of a distressed table leg. She took only the fraction of a moment to touch her bleeding and swollen lip and busied herself with the sparse fixings of what Jiggy Nye expected to have ready for his supper.
Her stomach betrayed her by its noisy growls against emptiness, even though she knew the meat she prepared was more than likely the organ of one of her horse friends. The tough bread she placed on his plate to catch the meat drippings looked delicious as well.
Tears filled her eyes as she thought of how Ben would be sad to see her hungry; longing for old bread and horse liver instead of enjoying ginger cookies. He was so kind to her. The best and only friend she had. Felicity thought she might make another friend today, but all she had to show for it was a swollen lip and a throbbing jaw.
There were new folks in town. A pair of sisters, wearing bright coloured dresses with skirts that bunched and rustled, and sleeves that had great puffy clouds of lace peeking out. At first, she had only gawked, but then the younger of the two noticed her and stopped to grant a smile from beneath her fancy hat.
"Come along, Bitsy!" the elder commanded with a sniff, and a toss of her glossy curls. "Don't stop to gawk at the urchin. She looks positively wild! I'd be surprised if she even knew the King's English."
Felicity didn't know the King, or why the English belonged to him, but she understood that the older girl had said something very unkind, and she did not like her. The younger girl trotted fearfully after her sister, but just before they turned the corner, she glanced back and shot Felicity a sad sort of smile.
Ben was not impressed with the new neighbours. He had little to say on the matter when Felicity made mention of them.
"Their gowns look like cake," he stated, "and Annabelle keeps her nose so high, birds could mistake it for a tree branch."
Felicity giggled at that. "Their shoes were pretty," she added softly. "So shiny, and new."
"Their shoes?" Ben looked quizzically at her feet bound in cloth and leathers. She had stuffed the makeshift shoes with scraps of cotton in an attempt to shut out the cold. "You don't have shoes," he noted.
She dismissed this fact with a slight shrug, and he said no more about it.
"But Lissie..." he asked, touching her bruised cheek ever so lightly. "Was it my fault he did this? Did I make him angry?"
She shook her head. "I promise. It wasn't your fault."
Ben sighed and looked away, focusing on some point in the distance. Lissie slipped her hand into his, and they simply stayed; listening to the birds chatter and thinking of nothing.
Author's Note:
*sniffles* I want a Ben to sit with while I'm thinking of nothing! :(( :(( :(( :((
I think I need to set an alarm for myself with big flashing letters that say, "FRIDAY IS FOR LISSIE NYE!" because I almost uploaded the wrong story again! What is wrong with me?