Once again no one stopped me as I walked the corridors, passing quickly into the servants’ part of the palace. When I reached my room, I shoved the bag under the bed, the only place big enough to hold it, and hurried to change dresses. The whole exercise had taken so long I was in danger of being late to the geese who were no doubt waiting anxiously for their afternoon’s grazing.
Chapter 12
One particularly brisk morning, my failure to discover the handkerchief was on my mind as I approached the goose pen. In my abstraction, I nearly didn’t notice a diminutive figure standing in front of the gate, arms crossed. The young boy glared at me fiercely, although I was sure we’d never met, and my initial failure to notice him only deepened his scowl.
“I suppose you must be Elle,” he said, voice dripping with disdain.
“Yes, I am. But I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.”
“Don’t know who I am?” The boy drew himself to his full height, visibly swelling with outrage. “I’m Colin.”
“Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Colin. Can I help you with something?”
He stared at me as if I’d grown a second head.
“Help you with something? I’ll have you know, you’re the one helping me!”
A sudden suspicion filled my mind.
“Are you the goose boy? The usual one, I mean, who’s been on leave visiting his family?”
“Aye, that’s me. And if Betty hadn’t been fool enough to get the measles and then give it to half the family, I wouldn’t have had to go off in the first place.” He paused to glare at me again. “And then I wouldn’t be dealing with upstart maids who think they can come in and steal me job.” He had worked himself into a crescendo of anger by his final words, and I hurriedly raised both hands in a placating gesture.
“No, no, I promise I’m not trying to steal your job. I’m sure you’re far better at herding the geese than me.”
“You can be sure of that,” he muttered. “But the Poulterer is saying I have to work with you. Me! I haven’t had anyone watching over me since I was a little ’un.”
He still looked little to me—surely not more than ten at the most—but it didn’t seem a wise idea to point that out.
“I’m fairly sure,” I said instead, “that you’re the one looking after me.” I gave him an apologetic smile. “The truth is that they didn’t know what to do with me and wanted to give me something quiet to do away from the bustle of the palace. I’m sure it is really Mrs. Pine who wants me to stay, not the Poulterer.” I lowered my voice. “I’m afraid the Poulterer doesn’t think much of me at all.”
Colin’s manner softened slightly. “Course he doesn’t. He doesn’t think much of anybody. Took me two years afore he stopped barking at me.”
“A high honor,” I said, with all sincerity. “I’m afraid the geese don’t listen to me much either. I mostly have to let them pick their own grazing spots.”
Colin shook his head in disgust, but he had considerably relaxed at these instances of my ineptitude.
“You’ve got to keep a firm hand with ’em,” he told me in a wise tone. “They have to know who’s in charge.”
“Well I’m sure we’ll have no difficulties with that now you’re back,” I said, causing Colin to abandon the last of his outraged air. I was only glad I had finally relaxed enough to start leaving the staff in the pen overnight again. I could imagine his reaction if he had found me wandering around with it.
He soon had the geese out of the pen in record time. He called to them as he walked, swinging the staff with an expert hand, and none of them protested as he led them toward a part of the park where I had not yet ventured. We stopped right on the edge of one of the small clusters of trees, Colin explaining that the shade they provided would be a necessity soon enough, as the weather warmed.
My heart sank at the image he presented. I sincerely hoped I wasn’t still goose herding in summer. Who knew what damage Sierra would have done with her charade by then?
Colin chattered away about the family he had just left, seemingly unconcerned by my infrequent and confused contributions to the conversation. He apparently had a great many siblings, far more than I could keep track of. But I did manage to grasp that as well as the much-maligned Betty, who had brought the infection into the house, there was a younger brother who Colin held high hopes would soon join him to train as a herder.
His dark looks returned briefly during this segment of his spiel, so perhaps it was this brother’s place he thought I was usurping more than his own. But as the day wore on, he turned his focus to teaching me the things I should know as a herder.
It took a great deal of restraint on my part to keep a grave and attentive expression since he wore a hat several sizes too big for him that was liable to fall off whenever he committed to a demonstration. It fell off three times in quick succession while he enthusiastically modeled the correct technique for wielding the staff, and I gathered my courage to say something.
“I think your hat might be a little large, Colin. Would you like me to talk to one of the maids and see if we can find you one that fits better?”
He immediately rounded on me, his expression filled with horror. “Keep your hands off my hat!” Rescuing the fallen headpiece, he jammed it firmly back on his head.
“I have no wish to steal it, I promise. I was only trying to help.”
He shook his head, clearly exasperated by my ignorance. “I worked for a whole year before I earned this hat.” A note of pride entered his voice. “A proper herder’s hat, from the hands of the Poulterer himself.”
A status symbol then. I abandoned any hope of getting him to replace it with a more practical option. He was still shaking his head and muttering when the sound of hooves announced the arrival of Arvin.
“You’re late,” I called to the horse. “Did you oversleep?”
He pointedly ignored me, focusing his attention on Colin.
Why is there a child here? Again.
“This is Colin,” I told him. “He’s the true goose boy. Colin, this is Arvin. He likes to spend time with me and the geese during the day.”
Arvin finally turned to me. I do not like to spend time with geese. What do you take me for?
“Now, that is a horse.” Colin stared in wide-eyed, reverential wonder at Arvin. “Did you say he spends his days here? With us? He looks far too important.”
Arvin whipped his head back around to stare at the boy.
Well, he neighed after a moment, it seems there is occasionally some sense to be found among children after all. Perhaps his presence will not be so wearisome.
I shook my head at both of them, wondering how long the apparent peace would last. But Colin’s awe didn’t abate, the poor boy running himself ragged finding patches of grass that might possibly tempt the horse and tirelessly rubbing him down with the brush I had borrowed from Harry. If Arvin had been a cat, I’m sure he would have been purring, although I knew he would declare himself far too dignified for such an activity if I suggested it.
With Colin’s unflagging efforts with both the geese and Arvin, there was even less for me to do than usual, and an idea had begun to worm its way into my brain. Before I said anything about it, however, a young, piping voice called my name.