Chuck versus the Positively Medieval
by Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: In the provincial town of Pinedeep, everyone knows: The only way to secure the hand of the heiress of the Walker fortune is to catch her black cat and take the key that hangs from its collar back to the heiress Walker's home where it will unlock the door and unlock her fortune. When enigmatic siblings from afar settle in Pinedeep, will the shifting winds they bring prove fateful? Medieval AU.
A/N: I thank folks who are leaving reviews and PMs. It means a lot! Hope you continue to enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Medieval Times-though if I did own Medieval Times, I'd make the chairs in that place a little more comfortable and there would be better options for my vegetarian sisters and brothers to eat while enjoying the show.
"Good morrow!"
Chuck had heard a horse coming down the path in front of the lot where he and Ellie had built almost three months earlier when they'd arrived in Pinedeep and decided it was a good place to settle when they had not immediately been met with animosity when moving through their marketplace.
He had ignored the approaching horse, as enveloped as he was in readjusting the shingles on his roof.
Now he had no choice but to greet whoever had called up to him.
He and Ellie needed to make friends here, as best as they could. They needed to ingratiate themselves into the community, or they would have to leave again. And he was sick of building cottages only for them to have to run and leave it behind, or worse, watch it burn as they hastened out of town with their wagon, their horse Hen, and few possessions.
He turned and raised his hand in greeting, keeping the other on the roof to brace himself. "Good morrow, sir!" he called back.
The man still sat astride his horse, wrapped in silks, the glint of metal under the silks, perhaps some sort of armor. Was he a soldier, Chuck wondered?
"Art thou in need of help, young man?" the man on the horse asked.
"Kind of thee, sir, but 'tis well in hand." He lifted his hammer and wiggled it.
"Good, good. I…am reluctant to interrupt thy work but I wonder if ye might spare some refreshment for a thirsty traveler? I have been on my horse for many days."
Chuck smiled, carefully making his way towards his ladder and climbing down to the ground beside his cottage. "Of course, traveler. Bring your horse around this way. I have hay and a trough of fresh water I use for my own."
"Thank ye. I am grateful."
The man climbed down from his horse, opening the gate and walking his white horse into Chuck's yard. He looked at least twenty years Chuck's senior now that he approached, the corners of his eyes wrinkled. He swept a hat off of his tousled black hair, running a gloved hand down his neatly trimmed mustache and pointed beard.
"Through here," Chuck advised, leading the man and his horse to the side yard.
"And to who is it I owe my thanks?"
"The name is Charles."
"Charles." The man stuck his hand out. "Cole. From the Barker Province."
Chuck clasped onto the man's wrist and the man did the same. "Welcome to Pinedeep, Cole." He eyed what was definitely armor under the fine silks. "Art thou a knight?"
Cole chuckled. "Not entirely, no. I was once. I left my home, my kingdom, for adventure. I wanted to see what the world had to offer me. I have not been back in twenty-some years. I am sure they would not call me a knight if I went back."
"Thou looketh the part still."
"Thank ye."
Once his horse was tied, Chuck led him through the back door into the kitchen.
"Cozy little cottage," Cole said, following him inside.
"Yea. I built it."
"Thou builteth this…"
"My sister and I."
"Thou liveth with thy sister here?"
"Aye. The other building just there is her office where she sees to her patients," he said, pointing, and he grabbed a jug of ale from the cupboard. "Dost thou take ale, sir?"
"Please."
Chuck poured, heading over to set it on the table, gesturing for Cole to sit in the nearby chair. The man sat and took up the mug. "Wilt thou drink with me? Ye looked to be hard at work on the roof."
Chuck poured less for himself and sat with the man to be polite, but not before breaking bread and cheese, setting that on the table for the man as well.
"Charles, I am obliged," the erstwhile knight said, his mouth full. He took the mug and guzzled ale from it. "It has been a long journey."
"Art thou passing through?"
"Mm. No. I come to Pinedeep with purpose. I am seeking a wife."
Chuck raised his eyebrows. "Why Pinedeep? Surely a man such as this attracts many a worthy woman in whatever province he so pleases."
Cole pointed at him around the mug clutched in his large palm. "Careful. Thou wilt make me blush, ye young scamp." Chuck snorted, shaking his head. "Just so happens there is a very special woman right here in Pinedeep. As someone who lives here, ye surely know her."
"What is the lady's name?"
"Sarah Walker."
It was not a surprise to him, hearing that name fall from the older man's lips. "I do not know her, but I do know of her. See, my sister and I are new to town as well. We have been here scarce three months."
"And thou builteth this cottage in that time?"
"Yea." He'd had quite a bit of practice over the years. But he did not much feel like divulging that to this stranger. "Why Sarah Walker?" he asked.
Cole made a face, letting out a low whistle. "I hear she possesses unrivaled beauty."
She did. There was no denying that. Her beauty had struck him dumb in the marketplace that day.
"But there are many women in other provinces who might fit that description, are there not? Thou traveléd all this way for this one woman."
"Ah, but do they have sprawling lands that are worth a pretty coin?" the former knight asked, leaning in conspiratorially. "The Walker lands are vast. The coin flows like a waterfall in spring. What I could do with those lands, and that kind of money. And having beauty like that in my bed?"
Chuck felt a spike of ire at how casually he had just spoken of this woman he had never met before being in his bed. It was deeply disrespectful. If someone spoke about his sister in that way, he would take deep offense to it, and it shouldn't be any different for any other woman.
Only he'd seen this particular woman speak to the child selling ribbons with so much kindness, even as he'd also seen a sliver of tentativeness, as though she was shy, not quite practiced at dealing with people. And why not when she knew the things people must be saying about her behind her back?
He tried to stamp out the foolish protectiveness that pushed into his chest. She was not his to protect.
"How dost thou intend to get thy hands on all of that Walker land?"
"I am gonna marry her, of course. 'Twill be a beautiful wedding, too." Cole smiled blearily, guzzling more ale.
"Marry her? A woman with that much land to her name will just agree to marry the first man who shows up at her door in silks and armor? No offense meant, good sir," he added when the other man narrowed his eyes at him. Chuck wasn't in the market for a beating this afternoon, not from someone in armor who used to be a knight certainly.
"'Tis a valid question. And no, it seems 'tis not the case. And somehow, that makes me want her all the more." He leaned forward with his arms folded on Chuck's table, grabbing the bread and tearing it off to munch on it noisily. "Thou meaneth to tell me ye haven't heard of the decree she sent out?"
"Decree?"
"Aye. She is a learnéd lass. She can read and write. Which, I grant ye, might make her a bit less desirable. She is not so easy to mold." Chuck clenched his jaw, looking down at his ale he'd barely touched. "But worth the trouble if her beauty is as great as they say. See, she has a rule. Parameters. She will not be courted the regular way. No, in fact, 'tis even easier than regular courting. Our enigmatic heiress requires a man to steal a key from her pet cat. 'Tis the key to her home. Once I get that key, the knight will stroll right into that house, sweep her up off her feet, and the rest of my life will be lived in bliss." He spread his arms out to the side and let out a confident snicker.
"I see. And catching this cat will be easy?"
"Oh surely I'm not so foolish that I do not recognize others have tried and failed. This cat is not easy to get your hands on. But I am different."
"Art thou?"
"Mm." He dipped the bread in his ale. "Sorry, kid. No offense, but the bread's a bit stale 's all." He shoved it between his lips, wiping his hand on his trousers. "I am very good with animals. Let it be known."
"Let it be known," Chuck mumbled. "So good thou thinketh this…cat will…?"
"Oh 'tis going to be charmed. Of course. 'Twill come right to me. I will have that little puss eating out of my hand and bam! Just like that, I snatch the key. And so goes the rest of my life. Living in luxury."
Chuck nodded.
"Good plan, eh?"
It was a plan.
But Cole of the Barker Province seemed not to require an answer from the younger man, as assured as he was that it was in fact a good plan.
"Granted, it is a bit emasculating, is it not? Having to chase a cat around like an old spinster. Seems so foolish. Why a young woman with beauty and generations of coin in her family would feel the need to do such a ridiculous thing to snare a husband, I do not know. But we do what we must. And I aim to win her hand."
He left not too long after, waving behind him at the man who had provided him respite, heading for Pinedeep proper. Chuck wasn't convinced by Cole's confidence, but it seemed he'd surely convinced himself.
And he clung to that conversation all afternoon and into the evening, thinking about Sarah Walker, about her cat, about the gambit she'd decreed to win her hand at marriage. It was all sitting strangely in his head.
"Thou art supposed to stir that persistently."
He jumped a bit and turned to look at his sister who was pulling their mutton from the clay oven. "Sorry," he muttered, turning back to keep stirring.
"'Tis fine. I only mean to ask if something happened. My brother is distracted."
"Am I?"
"Clearly."
Chuck let out a soft snort. "While ye were visiting a patient, a traveler came through. I had him rest his horse out by Hen and brought him in to provide him with refreshment." He normally would have teased his sister about their "stale" bread, just to rankle her since she'd been the one to go to the market last, but his mind was too distracted by the conversation. "He means to win Sarah Walker's hand in marriage."
"Who?"
He hoisted the soup off of the stove grate, away from the flames licking at it from beneath, and then he draped the cloth he'd used to protect his hands over his shoulder. "Sarah Walker. Then thou hast not heard this tale about the most eligible beauty in all the land? Not with how many patients ye have been seeing as of late?"
Eleanor shook her head. "What are ye on about? Most eligible beauty?" She scoffed.
"Ah, so ye have not. 'Tis true. I saw her with my own eyes in the market the other day. She is the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on. Eyes blue as the sky on the clearest day. Hair so golden 'tis as if the sun spun it himself." He shook himself as his sister gave him a flat look. "I just mean to say she is stunning. Her beauty. It-it is stunning. Erm, but there is something else. She has men flocking from all over the land, every province, trying to win her hand in marriage. And as the tale goes, it was so bothersome to her to have men knocking on her door at all hours seeking her hand, she came up with a plan to mitigate how often she was bothered. Simple enough. She attached a key to the collar of her pet cat. If the man who wants to marry her catches her cat, that key will let him into her home. And then, that is the man she will marry."
His sister set the meat in the middle of the table as he hastened over with the sauce and vegetable root. "I am dubious."
"Why? 'Tis true. I have heard it from two separate people now. The traveler today came from Barker Province to try to catch this cat and marry Sarah Walker. And a few days ago, the baker's wife Elsa Naughton said the same."
"No, I believe that ye heard it. And maybe she has set up a mechanism for which some man might win her hand without her having strangers knocking at her door to try to marry her every moment of the day. But there is a catch here." Eleanor shook her head and sat at the table.
"El. Ellie. Thou art much too smart for thy own good, ye know that? And now ye answer me with that cryptic look in thine eye. Tell me. What is in thine head?"
They sat across from one another as Chuck began to cut the meat, distributing it on both of their plates.
"I think thou knoweth very well what is in my head, and—"
"'Tis just that it all seems so foolhardy," Chuck continued, a bit distracted again. He missed the flat look his sister sent him again. "All of these men chasing this cat, none of them seeming to have an easy time of it, either. It sounds like a very elusive creature. And all to win the hand of a woman who went all of that time rebuffing every man who came to her door, no matter their means, their royal blood, their breeding. To think she would want to marry any of them… Well, I cannot think she does, Ellie."
Eleanor thrusted her hand out, palm up, a sort of shrug. "And so… Is it not the point?" She began to eat, waving her fork around. "She wants not a marriage with any of these men. She wants not marriage. She wants to be left to her own devices, without having to marry, without having men knocking at her door, and so she sets up a game that is impossible to win." She shrugged. "She is assured that her cat is faster and smarter than these jesters trying to catch it."
A smile slowly spread over his face. "Missus Naughton is right. She's brilliant. That's quite the brilliant set-up."
"I admire her," Eleanor said, letting out a giggle. "And that traveler today? Had he a plan?"
"Mm, yes. He means to charm the cat to come to him. See, he's wonderful with four-legged beasts."
They laughed together, sharing their meal, and Chuck felt much better about the whole thing, knowing it was an impossible game, that this woman who had left him frozen, stunned in the marketplace had set up a game that could not be won.
}o{
It was easy enough to avoid the men seeking her hand. Not just because they could not catch the cat, but because she was clever about where she allowed herself to be seen when she was out and about.
She never allowed herself to be cornered, either.
Certainly not without a lot of townspeople around.
"Ah, Milady Walker!"
Damn it.
Perhaps she had chosen just the wrong day to be out and about. The town festivities around the moon calendar were coming up and everyone and everything was in a flurry with preparations.
But she needed ointment for the cut she'd suffered on her forearm after distraction led to one of her blades slipping while she was training.
She had bound it up in a cloth, but she did not want it showing. If it showed on her arm now, it would show elsewhere as well. She needed it to heal fast and well; spirits willing no scar was left in its wake.
Mere feet from the door of the apothecary, she halted, letting out a frustrated sigh, before fixing a small polite smile on her face. "Yea, good sir?"
The man looked to be about ten years her senior, if not a bit more. He had dark hair that swooped back from a middle part at the top of his head, and a smile stretched over his mouth that seemed rather too forced to be real. Like he had to try extremely hard to make it appear. "Milady, I finally meet thee."
"Who art thou, sir?"
"Ah, yea." He bowed again. "Merely a servant, milady. Thy servant. The name is Shaw. Daniel Shaw. I have traveled far, thousands of miles, merely at the mention of thy beauty." Certainly the riches her family had left her as their last and only heir had no bearing on his decision to travel all this way? "I must confess, thou leaveth me speechless."
"Do I, sir? Ye seem to have found thy speech well enough."
He halted, not seeming to know how to respond to that. Finally, he gathered himself just slightly. "Yea. Just so. Erm… Thy beauty, it is like the sun dappled upon the petals of a rose."
"What color?"
"What so?"
"What color is this rose?"
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, confused. "I am not sure I understand, fair lady. The color of the rose, it matters not."
"Oh, but does it not? Depending on the color of the rose, the light from our sun reacts differently. Some colors absorb the light, others reflect it. So which color rose is this sunlight my beauty resembles dappling?" She waited patiently, tilting her head.
Finally seeming to piece together that she was mocking him, he cleared his throat, his smile twitching as he nodded his head once, finally smirking and looking up through his eyelashes at her. "Fairest Sarah of the famed Walkers, thou art blessed with intelligence far beyond that of thy fellow townsmen." He gestured around them.
Sarah felt herself frown at the insult to her people. Surely, many of them drove her to madness some days with their obsession with her, with the cat that held her fate on its collar. But they were her neighbors, her people.
"That is why I seek thine hand," he announced, straightening his back and lifting his chin with no small amount of self-importance. "I am a man of impressive intelligence. To be blessed with a beloved wife who is also in possession of sharpness, including that razor wit I find myself at the end of, then it is well."
It was not well, nor would it be. She found herself not wanting to meet this man ever again.
"Thou art aware, sir, of the rules?"
"Yea. Of course. Everyone is. We must find thy cat, wherever it wanders, coax it into letting us take the key to thine humble home upon thy family's vast parcel of beautiful lands, and open the door, only to be welcomed in. We shall marry, milady. For I will outsmart this cat of yours, mark my words."
He seemed so confident in himself. And she felt an ire in her breast towards him.
"Thou shalt mark mine, good sir. Ye will not outsmart my cat. Of that ye can be sure."
Daniel Shaw smirked. "Hm. We shall see who wins."
"Yea, we shall."
She would win. She'd set it up that way on purpose. And as he bid her fare thee well, she clenched her jaw at his back, allowing herself a moment to feel the distinct bitterness that followed her everywhere with the way her father had left her this vast burden of their properties, their wealth.
Perhaps if she rubbed her cow's manure all over her person, these men would stop their suits?
She heard a quiet giggle behind her and she shifted to look to see where it came from.
A beautiful woman with dark brown hair, green eyes, and a modest but pretty gown adorning her form saw her looking and immediately gasped, guarding her features and glancing away. "I apologize, my lady," she said quickly. "I surely did not mean to stare, nor did I mean to overhear the conversation. Please excuse my rudeness."
"If it pleaseth thee, good lady, please accept my forgiveness, not that I believe ye have done anything to offend. For thou hast not." She cleared her throat, glancing back over her shoulder in the direction yet another of her attempted suitors had strutted off to. "If he had pronounced his intentions any louder, the jester in the province he rode in from might hear it and mock it in his next routine."
The woman who looked to be around her age, or perhaps a handful of years older, if that, let out a soft snort and giggled. She seemed embarrassed by it and lifted a hand to her lips, blushing. "Thou art not wrong, my lady. He seemed to want all of Pinedeep's citizenry to hear his suit. It…embarrassed me. I hope ye do not mind my saying."
"I do not mind. It embarrassed me. Although he should be the one embarrassed. Alas, that seems not to be the case."
"I do not believe the poor man has an ounce of awareness. Lo, he is blessed with so much wit. A spark at the edge of a blade held to a blacksmith's grinding wheel."
Sarah laughed outright. And she realized she didn't recognize the lady. Furrowing her brow, she stepped in a bit closer, taking respite from the sun under the shade of a nearby tarp held aloft over a seller's cart, currently vacant.
"How now, might I ask my fellow lady's name? I do not believe I have seen thee in Pinedeep before. And I know everyone, what with the state of my…well, my situation."
"I have only been here a few short months. My brother and I only just settled in Pinedeep, ye see. I am Eleanor." She stretched out her hand towards Sarah.
"Sarah. Sarah Walker."
"Indeed, ye must be. Thy name and…situation precedes thee."
They shook hands. Sarah swallowed hard.
"Oh do not fret. I won't be chasing that cat of yours. All I want in Pinedeep is to finally belong…somewhere. Without being cast out for my trade." She rolled her eyes and shifted the weight of the burden she carried—a basket covered in a damp white towel.
"Cast out for thy trade?"
"I practice medicine. As it were." Sarah's eyes went wide and she was immediately intrigued. "Were't thou headed into this apothecary?"
"I…was. Forsooth, I foolishly cut myself…cooking," she lied. "I seek a balm for the skin. I would hate for it to scar and usually Burton has—"
"Oh, please. Do not think me someone who steals another's customers, but if ye have cut thyself, please allow me to look at it. Let me help. If thou art satisfied not, I will personally see ye back to Burton's apothecary and I will purchase the balm for thee." She ducked her head respectfully, giving the smallest of curtsies.
Sarah smiled. "Thou shalt not buy me my balm. I won't hear of it. But I will go with thee." She nodded her head once, gracefully. "Lead me, Eleanor of the medicine practice."
Together they went, side by side. And Sarah found that it was a pleasant walk, Eleanor quietly gesturing to the different shops, telling her of the people she'd already helped. And so, it was how Sarah discovered that this woman who was only a handful of years older than her, if that, had helped Olga Ridder to deliver her youngest babe safely into this world not a week ago.
Finally, they arrived at a home that looked to be newly built, the wood fresh, window panes just painted, roof tiles clean save for a bit of moss starting to grow where shade spread from the nearby pines.
But there was another building that stretched off to the side, also new. And above the door was a sign that read: CARE & MEDICINE. Beneath that, there was another sign, hand-painted. "Pay what ye can."
Sarah already liked this new citizen of Pinedeep.
"Thy practice is right off of thine home?"
"Yea. I do make house calls, as well. Only I was out shopping and do not have my medical bag with me. Otherwise, I could have treated ye therein." She unlocked and pushed open the practice's door, holding it for Sarah to enter first. "Please have a seat there on that bench. I will clean my tools and follow forthwith."
"Thank ye, Eleanor."
"Thank ye."
"And what for?"
Eleanor smiled over her shoulder as she hoisted her tools from her kit and went back to inspecting them. "For trusting me, a complete stranger, with something as important as thine health and safety. I have relied on people in Pinedeep putting trust in me in spite of being so new here. And some have. I am grateful."
"I am certain they are grateful thou art here so that they know there is someone they can depend on, if they fall ill or have an accident." She lifted her forearm, the makeshift bandage covered by the sleeve of the cloak she'd wrapped around her before setting off.
The bench was situated much higher than regular chairs would normally be, Sarah's long legs dangling so that the toes of her leather heeled boots only grazed the wood floors of Eleanor's clinic.
She stepped in close to her patient, setting what she needed down on a table she pulled up beside her. "Wouldst thou mind removing the cloak and anything else that might get in the way?"
Thankfully, all Sarah had to do was untie the cloak from around her neck and shrug it off. She folded it across the bench beside her, then thrusted her arm out towards the other woman.
"Ye did not do too badly tying this bandage. Have ye treated wounds like this before?" Eleanor asked conversationally.
"I am sure I have. Not always myself. Lest I give ye the wrong impression; I am not so clumsy that this is a frequent occurrence." She felt herself blush slightly. "But I do own animals. And a clumsy horse named Camille."
The two women exchanged an amused glance, even as the brunette gently untied the bandage, unwinding it to reveal the cut. She let out a soft hiss. "Hm. Deeper than I expected it to be."
"Is it terrible? Thou wilt be able to treat it?"
"Oh, certainly. I've treated much, much worse. What sort of a knife did this?" Sarah felt herself tense slightly. They were throwing knives. She'd tried to flip it up from her belt and was distracted and it caught her arm instead of sliding neatly into her fingers. Eleanor seemed to have quite a lot of tact as she quickly added, "Ye do not need to answer in too much detail. I just need to know if the edge was smooth or serrated."
Sarah felt gratefulness bloom in her breast and she smiled slightly. "Smooth."
"Good. 'Twill heal better. Let me clean it again, but it does not seem so deep 'twill need to be stitched. I have created a binding that will hold the skin together so that when it heals, it won't leave any scarring. I have also created my own ointment that will keep infection away while minimizing scarring."
Relief flooded through the younger woman. "Oh, that is welcome news. Thank ye. I am very grateful."
"Please. 'Tis my life's work."
"Well, thou wilt be paid handsomely for this."
Eleanor sent her a bit of a chastising look through her eyelashes as she finished cleaning the wound. At least it had stopped bleeding. Surely that was a good sign? "Ye will pay what I charge and not a cent more…or my patients pay what they can afford. Those are the two payment choices."
Sarah Walker smirked. She did like her. "Ye must be aware, I can afford to pay a great deal. And so that is what thou shalt receive for coming to my rescue when one of my cooking knives attacked me."
The other woman let out a giggle, quickly moving to pick up an interesting looking strip that seemed to be made of both thread and some kind of stretching cloth. She applied the first in a way that cut across Sarah's wound, and then she began to apply more along the cut so that there were eight in all, all pressed tightly together.
Then she laid a square of bandage over it and made quick work of binding it to keep it there. "Good," she said with a quick nod. "You will do well now. Though I advise ye keep it from getting wet."
"Of course. I will take care."
"Glad to hear it."
She waited for Eleanor to clean up just a little, and then she slid off of the bench back to her feet, gingerly reaching up to tie the cloak back around her neck and making sure it swept over the much more subtle binding from the first female physician she was sure she had ever met.
Eleanor put up a fight when she slid her much, much more than what she had asked for, the coins clinking in the small purse she handed over.
"I cannot accept this, though I do accept thy kindness in the offer."
"Thou art just getting thy practice up and running, Eleanor," Sarah argued. "My coin is nothing to me. For thee, it can make up for those who cannot afford much but receive thy treatments anyway. Please. I insist."
Her argument seemed to appease the physician and she finally let her slip the small coin purse into her palm. "I am grateful, Sarah Walker. This is kind."
"Ye were kind to offer to help me. I am certain I would have received nothing like this from Burton's apothecary."
"I do not wish to take anyone else's business." But the mention of the apothecary seemed to remind her: "Oh! The ointment. Here." She crossed the room and combed through a large box of medicines. "This small leather pouch has an ointment inside. I applied some already after I cleaned the wound, before I added the butterfly bandages." Butterfly bandages. They did rather look like small burlap butterflies.
"Tomorrow night, thou wilt want to carefully take a peek at the wound. If 'tis very red or bleeding again, if 'tis emitting anything else, come to me at once. Any hour, day or night. Hm?" Sarah smiled with a nod. "Otherwise, if it seems to be healing regularly, just apply a dab of this ointment around the butterflies."
Sarah took it and slipped it into her dress pocket. "Thou worketh miracles, my lady."
"Oh, hush. I studied these sorts of things when I was but a small thing just learnéd to read. I have built up methods, treatments, even received some schooling from a physician who'd taken kindly to me as a young blush of a girl. Most of these methods I devised through practice. Trial and error." She winced. "Mostly on myself and my brother. He injures himself frequently enough."
Sarah giggled, imagining a young boy, perhaps a teenager, or if there was a large age gap, even younger than that. "Does he get into mischief?"
Eleanor laughed. "Well, he's been wont to, especially when he was younger. The idiot wrestling with the neighbor's dogs as a boy meant finding the best way to treat teeth marks." She rolled her yes and smirked. "But now that he's a grown man, his work lends itself to injury here and there. Working with hammers, nails, tools. And he's a gangly, clumsy thing at times. Though I love him dearly."
Oh, so her brother wasn't a child.
"Thy brother lives here with thee?"
"Indeed. We traveled together, built this home and our trades together. In the hopes we can manage to stay longer than we have been able to in the past." Sarah had some questions about that, but she kept mum as Eleanor continued. "He does repairs. Anything mechanical, that is what he loves to work with, but he will repair benches, chairs, wagons, wheels, chicken coops, fences, doors, roofs. Whatever is broken, he will fix."
A memory from some weeks earlier struck the young heiress then. Because there had been a young man helping Missus Naughton the baker's wife. The rotund woman had called him a handyman, and he had mentioned something like coming to town sixty days prior.
She didn't mention it to Eleanor, and she didn't know why. Instead she nodded. "Well, if I should need a handyman, can I find him here?"
"Just knock on the door to our home. He built a workshop out back and he is usually there if neither of us answer at the house. Or he is out on a job. You can seek me out too. I have a nose for finding that fellow."
Sarah grinned at that. "I will. Thank ye, Eleanor. I am too grateful."
They said their farewells and Eleanor waved her off from the door.
Sarah felt lighter as she strolled home. Because she had just met someone new to the Pinedeep Province, someone who hadn't had the impressions and legends and stories of the Walker family baked into her. She hadn't needed anything from Sarah save payment for services rendered. She had been kind and skilled at her trade.
And she seemed to know who Sarah was, that she was rich, and had mentioned Sarah's reputation preceding her, which made the younger woman think she'd heard about trials to win her hand in marriage, cat with the key on its collar and all.
She didn't talk up her brother more than to let her know his trade, so that she knew she had someone to go to if she needed anything repaired. No embarrassing and unsubtle talk about how accomplished he was, how handsome he was. Oh he worked so hard, earned a good living. The things Sarah had heard ever since her father's illness took him from her…
Perhaps, and she knew she might be getting ahead of herself, but perhaps there was a chance she might gain a friend. A genuine friend.
A/N: And so some of the ill-equipped suitors make their appearances in Pinedeep. And the heiress meets the physician.
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-SC