life a lot better when he was on his own, doing his daily chores by himself.
When everything was ready to be taken away, Derek walked over to the corral where Devon was exercising Lady Sarah Mary-Ruth.
"I'm finished. Can I go now?"
"I'd be pleased if you did," he answered, not bothering to turn around.
Scowling to himself, Derek walked away. If that was how the old man wanted to be, fine. Taking one of the flat crate tops out of the stable, Derek went across the field to the strawberry patch.
The plants looked healthy from all the rain, but the days of heat were starting to take their toll on the berries. Most of them were nearly jelly when he felt them.
"We need more rain. What we really need" he amended, "is a good storm to break this humidity."
Derek spent several hours picking over the rows of berry plants, filling two flats before stopping for a break.
Mopping his forehead with his sleeve, he thought once again of the rushing river that was calling to him with a singing voice through the thick of the trees. If he could get around to the house with the strawberries without running into Devon he could probably sneak down the path without being told off or ordered to clean something else.
Staying close to the edge of the forest, he walked back, balancing the flats one on top of the other. When he got to the house he went through the side door and down the stone steps.
"Beth, I got all the berries that were ripe. You were right about—" He stopped when he saw that it wasn't Beth, but Atty standing by the basin, washing the breakfast dishes. "Hello."
"Good morning, sir."
He almost laughed. No one had ever called him 'sir' that he could remember. "Good morning. Could you let Beth know I got all the berries?"
"Yes, sir."
Seeing Atty, he was reminded of his earlier conversation with Beth and his concern for Catherine began nudging his eagerness to go swimming aside. Derek got himself a drink of water and sat down. "How's Miss Catherine?"
"She's doing all right. Dr. Crawford is up there with her now."
"Oh. Does he know what's wrong with her?"
"I don't know, sir. I came down here when he arrived."
He nodded, finding it odd that the person responsible for taking care of the woman was left out of the doctor's visit.
Derek finished his drink and went up the stairs. Just as he was turning down the narrow hall to the side entrance, Mrs. Worthington came around the corner.
Her eyes rounded and her thin lips began to quiver. "What do you think you are doing? Did I not tell you to stay out of this house?"
"I had to bring something down to the kitchen, ma'am."
"None of your excuses!" The woman's voice rang through the house like silvery thunder.
Derek flinched a little, waiting for the roof to cave in. What happened to being completely quiet? he wondered, though he didn't dare say anything out loud.
"Sneaking off from your chores!" she continued, pointing an accusing finger at him. "I give you an excellent opportunity—one you don't even deserve, mind you—and you throw my generosity back in my face! Idleness!" she screeched. "It's laziness and I will not have it in my house! Not a moment of it! Out! Out this instant!"
As he left the house at a half-run, Mrs. Worthington's voice followed him, ranting about ingratitude and insolent, worthless, lazy boys. Idle sinners! That was what lazy boys were. The worst torments of hell were reserved for lazy, idle boys.
"I'll show her lazy," he muttered. "Let her do something besides sit on her fat rump and pamper her precious sons all day!"
Without really paying attention to where he was going, Derek pushed his way through the narrow break in the bushes and stormed down the path towards the river. Halfway there, he took a sharp left, marching off the path and through the trees towards his Village.
Chapter Five
The empty buildings stood in two rows down either side of a wide, brush-covered lane that use to be a dirt road. There was a hitching post
When everything was ready to be taken away, Derek walked over to the corral where Devon was exercising Lady Sarah Mary-Ruth.
"I'm finished. Can I go now?"
"I'd be pleased if you did," he answered, not bothering to turn around.
Scowling to himself, Derek walked away. If that was how the old man wanted to be, fine. Taking one of the flat crate tops out of the stable, Derek went across the field to the strawberry patch.
The plants looked healthy from all the rain, but the days of heat were starting to take their toll on the berries. Most of them were nearly jelly when he felt them.
"We need more rain. What we really need" he amended, "is a good storm to break this humidity."
Derek spent several hours picking over the rows of berry plants, filling two flats before stopping for a break.
Mopping his forehead with his sleeve, he thought once again of the rushing river that was calling to him with a singing voice through the thick of the trees. If he could get around to the house with the strawberries without running into Devon he could probably sneak down the path without being told off or ordered to clean something else.
Staying close to the edge of the forest, he walked back, balancing the flats one on top of the other. When he got to the house he went through the side door and down the stone steps.
"Beth, I got all the berries that were ripe. You were right about—" He stopped when he saw that it wasn't Beth, but Atty standing by the basin, washing the breakfast dishes. "Hello."
"Good morning, sir."
He almost laughed. No one had ever called him 'sir' that he could remember. "Good morning. Could you let Beth know I got all the berries?"
"Yes, sir."
Seeing Atty, he was reminded of his earlier conversation with Beth and his concern for Catherine began nudging his eagerness to go swimming aside. Derek got himself a drink of water and sat down. "How's Miss Catherine?"
"She's doing all right. Dr. Crawford is up there with her now."
"Oh. Does he know what's wrong with her?"
"I don't know, sir. I came down here when he arrived."
He nodded, finding it odd that the person responsible for taking care of the woman was left out of the doctor's visit.
Derek finished his drink and went up the stairs. Just as he was turning down the narrow hall to the side entrance, Mrs. Worthington came around the corner.
Her eyes rounded and her thin lips began to quiver. "What do you think you are doing? Did I not tell you to stay out of this house?"
"I had to bring something down to the kitchen, ma'am."
"None of your excuses!" The woman's voice rang through the house like silvery thunder.
Derek flinched a little, waiting for the roof to cave in. What happened to being completely quiet? he wondered, though he didn't dare say anything out loud.
"Sneaking off from your chores!" she continued, pointing an accusing finger at him. "I give you an excellent opportunity—one you don't even deserve, mind you—and you throw my generosity back in my face! Idleness!" she screeched. "It's laziness and I will not have it in my house! Not a moment of it! Out! Out this instant!"
As he left the house at a half-run, Mrs. Worthington's voice followed him, ranting about ingratitude and insolent, worthless, lazy boys. Idle sinners! That was what lazy boys were. The worst torments of hell were reserved for lazy, idle boys.
"I'll show her lazy," he muttered. "Let her do something besides sit on her fat rump and pamper her precious sons all day!"
Without really paying attention to where he was going, Derek pushed his way through the narrow break in the bushes and stormed down the path towards the river. Halfway there, he took a sharp left, marching off the path and through the trees towards his Village.
Chapter Five
The empty buildings stood in two rows down either side of a wide, brush-covered lane that use to be a dirt road. There was a hitching post
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