CHAINS TO FREEDOM.✔

Chapter Twenty-Five

It was late afternoon when Louis cantered into the courtyard, his horse a lather of sweat. Jessica and Alice were taking the washing from the line. He dismounted and walked the horse into the barn. Aiden and George were doing the evening milking.

"Good ride, Master?" asked Aiden.

"Yes, Aiden," Louis said and started to undo the horse's girth. George came over to help but Louis shook his head. "I can take care of this, George. Will you please fill his bucket with water?"

"Certainly, Master." Louis was brushing the horse down when George returned. "Here, sir let me finish that," he said taking the reins.

"Thanks, George I'd better go wash." Louis chuckled. "Mary won't be pleased if I miss dinner tonight."

George grinned his understanding. "You wouldn't want to upset her for sure, Master."

Alice and Jessica were carrying the baskets of washing across the courtyard when Louis came out into the open. He met them mid-way. "Let me take that for you, Alice," he said and took her heavy load.

"Thank you, Master it is a bit awkward."

His strides were longer so he reached the backdoor at least four paces ahead. Jessica stayed some distance behind. She watched as he strode in front of them. He seemed to glide rather than to take steps. He beamed at Alice as she rushed to open the door. Jessica felt a thud in her chest as she watched them have this pleasant exchange.

"Where would you like this left, Alice?" Louis asked as he looked around the room.

"Just on the floor, Master. Against the wall would be good."

"Dinner smells good, Mary." Louis dropped the basket and without hesitation strode back to the doorway and reached for Jessica's basket. His hand touched her arm lingering for a moment longer than needed.

Jessica looked up at his face. His blue eyes shone down on her. As he spoke she watched his lips move. For a moment they took her to a place that felt like home.

"I'd like some hot water taken to my room please, Jessica."

She lowered her head in acknowledgement. There was something different about him. Curious, she watched from the corner of her eye as he took off his coat and hung it on one of the hooks and then left the room.

He wasn't in his room when Jessica delivered the hot water he had asked for and she had left his chamber well before he entered.

Louis poured himself a glass of brandy, sat in an armchair and waited. He heard the door of his bed chamber open and then closed moments later. He wanted to give her plenty of time to do what she had to do.

He was waiting at the table, reading; a drink in his hand, when Jessica came into the dining room the first time, carrying bowls of food. He did not look up. When she entered the second time he closed his book and watched as she carried more bowls to the sideboard. He was pleased to see she had her hair down. He rubbed his lips and pushed himself away from the table so she wouldn't feel intimated when she came close to place the food on his plate. Louis said nothing but sat very still, watching.

With his eyes upon her Jessica struggled with nerves. She was grateful he had moved backwards. His stillness left her feeling uneasy. She feared any sudden movement from him would cause her to drop something.

Once she had finished serving the meal, Jessica left the room to pull back the covers on his bed. He was different somehow, but she would not dwell on this, sure he would not leave too much time until their next confrontation.

The days passed in quiet discomfiture. Jessica worked at her tasks and answered Louis only when she had to. She never looked at him or made eye contact with him.

This frustrated Louis, he knew it was something he would have to address but decided if he waited long enough the right time would come.

*****

Life for Jessica now had normality and without Louis's torment she settled very well with the people she worked with. They were the family she only ever partially had. She liked the feel of the bonds she was forming with each of them.

Only Louis was the thorn she would never touch. He treated her with a distant attitude, which always let her know what she was. He didn't do this with the others. She told herself that in time she too would feel about him as they did, and in turn she would appreciate the same kindness he bestowed on them.

Her connection with George was special. He was like the father she had lost. She watched as he milked a cow and laughed when he squirted milk at the kittens that milled around the animal's legs. "Can you milk a cow, Jessica?" he asked when he looked up and saw her there.

She squatted down beside him, gathering up one of the kittens and shook her head.

"Would you like me to teach you?"

"Yes." She put the kitten back down and stared up at him with bright eyes.

At the sight of her smiling face George chuckled. He stood up from the stool he had been sitting on and then patted the seat. "Come. Sit here."

Jessica did as he asked. She pulled her skirt up a little so it fell comfortably between her legs.

"You must take hold of the teats and draw them down with your hands," he said as he moved his to show what he meant.

Jessica attempted to do as he said. She screwed up her face when no milk came. George grinned and took hold of one of her hands. He squeezed and drew down on the teat. Milk squirted into the tin bucket. Jessica squealed in delight.

"Now you try it," he encouraged.

Jessica used the same method as George had but still no milk came. "Oh, I'm afraid she doesn't like me."

"How could she not like you, Jess? The bonny lass you are." He wrapped her palm around the teat once more and drew down.

"You have to draw down as you squeeze. Try again," he said.

This time she managed to get a little milk, but with each draw on the teat more came. With a huge grin on her face she said, "There we are, George. I'm now a milk maid instead of a housemaid."

George laughed and threw his arm around her shoulder to give her a hug. "One day you'll make someone the perfect wife."

"Never!" she said. "I don't want to be anyone's wife. When I am free I want to answer only to me."

George raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Well, Jess I reckon that be up to God meself. He arranges these things you see."

"Have you ever been married, George?" Jessica asked as she continued milking.

George sighed and looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "I would have liked to have been."

Copyright© 2019 Donna Fieldhouse. All rightsreserved

I swear trying to edit and update this book is harder than when I first wrote it. I'm not 100% happy with it so please forgive me :(