Page 67 of The Secret of Drulea Cottage
A small, sad smile came onto Briony’s face.He may na love me, but how can I possibly stop loving him when he’s so thoughtful?
“You’ve already given me more than most o’ Everton has: acceptance, regardless o’ my background. I can’ ask fer more than that.”
“Still, there must be something I can do to make your burdens a little lighter,” he insisted. “It could be with anything. Besides helping with the birthing process, are there any other responsibilities you have as a midwife?”
“I check in with expectant mothers to make sure they’re eating well and that everything is progressing as it should be. I also make sure they’re aware o’ what ’twill be like when their time comes. And I help with newborns fer the first couple o’ months. When I don’ have any midwife duties, I do what I can fer Adaira at the inn.”
“I know Senhora Calhoun is with child, but are there any other women you have to check on right now?”
“There might be, but before you ask, know that I would na be able to tell you. I’m sworn to secrecy in all matters related to that since the people here are very superstitious. Were I to tell before it becomes obvious, the poor mother and unborn babe might be kidnapped by trows,” Briony said with a playful grin.
“And what, pray tell, is a trow?” Santiago raised his eyebrows at her.
“Do they na have trows in Portugal?” Briony laughed. “Supposedly, they’re evil creatures that like to come out at night. Their bodies are small and ugly, and they love to steal human bairns. Sometimes they’ll take a bairn and trade it fer one o’ their own that they don’ want. When that happens, the babe is called a changeling—”
The word slipped out before Briony remembered why she hated it so much. Her face darkened instantly, and she turned away from Santiago. An intense itch gathered in her toes, urging her to take off her dreadful shoes.
“Briony?” Santiago asked, his voice dripping with concern.
“You-You should check on yer sister.” She tried to slow down her breathing, tried to keep herself calm. But after everything with Niall and the weather outside, she feared her mental walls were about to cave in.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“Nay, ’tis… Just leave me be fer a moment!” She stepped away and placed her hands on the wall, fighting with all her strength not to remember the rest of that day. The day Niall had come to her. The day she would have died if not for—
“Argh!” Briony screamed as the memory washed over her like a furious wave, pulling her into the depths.
A Terrible Day
Twelve years earlier
“Remember, bairn, you must keep yer shoes on anytime you go outside.”
“But why, Mum? None o’ the other bairns have to do that,” asked eight-year-old Briony.
Her mother gave her a thin smile before putting down her dishcloth. “Have you ever looked closely at the others’ feet? Did you notice anything different about theirs from yers?”
Briony cocked her head to the side and tried to picture Ewan Sherwin’s stinky feet, but all she could remember was that they were stinky. “What’s different?”
Bethany bent down and placed a gentle finger on the skin between Briony’s toes. “The others don’ have ridges on their feet like yers. Yer special.”
Briony frowned. “But you have skin between yer toes too! Are we both special?”
Bethany looked up at her with a rueful smile. “Aye, I suppose that makes both o’ us special. Our feet are just a wee bit different from other people’s, but I want you to remember that there’snothingwrong with them. They work just as well as everybody else’s. Maybe even better! The problem, though, is that some folks don’ like it when people look different from them. And I don’ want you to have more trouble making friends just because o’ that, so you have to keep this a secret. Do you understand?”
Briony thought long and hard about what her mother had said. At least, as long and hard as an eight-year-old could.What do my feet have to do with making friends?She shook her head.
Bethany sighed. “’Tis complicated, my peedie freck, but you’ll understand more when yer older. Fer now, can you just trust me?”
Briony nodded only because she knew it was what her mother wanted.I still don’ get it…
“That’s my good lass. Now, run down to the market and pick up a loaf o’ bread fer us. Here, take this. It should be enough.” Bethany handed her the money and ushered her out the door.
Briony skipped down the hill, stopping every once in a while to peer at her shoes. She had never been very good at keeping secrets.I wonder if I could tell someone about my feet once we’re friends—
“Aaah!”
Briony froze. The last time she’d heard such an agonizing cry was when Mum made her bring clean cloths for Mistress Milligan while she was in labor.
