The floor was of old, scoured wood. It was bound to creak, but if I tiptoed very slow--
"So, you are finally here," he said, without looking up. He gestured to a stack of volumes on the table beside him. "These will interest you."
I couldn't help but be curious. Besides, there was no escaping now. I sat down across the table from him and reached for the journals. He was right. They were exactly what I was looking for to begin my research.
"We shall be study partners," he said.
He didn't question things or persons, he just assumed that everything he wanted and stated was completely correct.
"You need beating," I told him.
"I have studied boxing and kick strike."
"I am sure you have needed to."
He finally glanced up from his reading. "We are both waiting for the certificate exam. We have had similar experiences. You will benefit from my expertise."
I waited for him to say that he would benefit from my expertise. He didn't.
"It will be convenient for us to study for the examination together."
He was right. I wanted to argue, but only because Heron was the sort of person one automatically wanted to argue with.
Instead, I gave his reasons a moment's thought and said, "Yes. All right."
A decisive nod from Dr. Heron. "Good. Let us begin."
I was mentally wrung out as well as physically exhausted by the time I made it back to Lilac House in the late afternoon. Also, very, very hungry. I wanted to pet my dog - or possibly eat my dog if no other source of protein was not immediately available - and settle in for a nice quiet evening with my family.
As it turned out, this evening was going to be even more full of family than last evening had been. But not quiet.
Tennit was home!
He was safe and sound and as ebullient as ever. He'd also brought home a very pretty, pregnant young wife from the war. She was a marine sergeant. Her accent was pure East Loudon.
Chapter Eight
My first thought when Tennit introduced me to his dear Rassi was, This is going to be interesting.
Needless to say, teatime that afternoon was a bit tense. But at least the drink we were served was proper black tea, brought home by the happy couple.
"Rassi's a scrounger," Tennit said proudly as the tea was poured. "You can thank her for what you're about to drink."
"I think we should thank the All," mother said. Then she tempered her sharpness with a thin smile at her new daughter-in-law. "And then we shall thank Mrs. Cliff."
"How did you meet?" Bell wanted to know. She glanced briefly at Rassi's swollen abdomen. "And conduct a romance during a land campaign?"
"You can't march all the time," Rassi answered.
Tenn was holding Rassi's hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it. "She saved my life," he said. "Over and over and over. Sergeant Fisher - that's Rassi - was in charge of the medical unit I was assigned to."
"You were not the commander?" father asked.
"I had nothing to do with administration," Tenn said. "My job was to save lives. Rassi's job was to make sure I could do my job. She's very good at her job."
"An administrator," mother said.
"And a nurse," Tenn said. "The lass has many talents."
And is smart and shrewd, I thought, watching her watching us. Were we going to be accepting, or was her relationship with Tennit making trouble for him with his family? Did we believe in meritocracy or merely pay it lip service as so many people did?
"You're a Fisher?" I said. "Perhaps we are related. There are Fishers among our ancestors. Seven generations back a Fisher and a Baker married and managed to buy some land. Their children changed the family name to Cliff." It was the first step in the climb from yeoman into the gentry class. We had no records of how our yeomen ancestors had made their way up from the working class. Though I think we should be even prouder of that difficult effort.
There was considerable silence after I spoke. We sipped tea. I ate more sweet biscuits and candied fruit than was good for me - but
"So, you are finally here," he said, without looking up. He gestured to a stack of volumes on the table beside him. "These will interest you."
I couldn't help but be curious. Besides, there was no escaping now. I sat down across the table from him and reached for the journals. He was right. They were exactly what I was looking for to begin my research.
"We shall be study partners," he said.
He didn't question things or persons, he just assumed that everything he wanted and stated was completely correct.
"You need beating," I told him.
"I have studied boxing and kick strike."
"I am sure you have needed to."
He finally glanced up from his reading. "We are both waiting for the certificate exam. We have had similar experiences. You will benefit from my expertise."
I waited for him to say that he would benefit from my expertise. He didn't.
"It will be convenient for us to study for the examination together."
He was right. I wanted to argue, but only because Heron was the sort of person one automatically wanted to argue with.
Instead, I gave his reasons a moment's thought and said, "Yes. All right."
A decisive nod from Dr. Heron. "Good. Let us begin."
I was mentally wrung out as well as physically exhausted by the time I made it back to Lilac House in the late afternoon. Also, very, very hungry. I wanted to pet my dog - or possibly eat my dog if no other source of protein was not immediately available - and settle in for a nice quiet evening with my family.
As it turned out, this evening was going to be even more full of family than last evening had been. But not quiet.
Tennit was home!
He was safe and sound and as ebullient as ever. He'd also brought home a very pretty, pregnant young wife from the war. She was a marine sergeant. Her accent was pure East Loudon.
Chapter Eight
My first thought when Tennit introduced me to his dear Rassi was, This is going to be interesting.
Needless to say, teatime that afternoon was a bit tense. But at least the drink we were served was proper black tea, brought home by the happy couple.
"Rassi's a scrounger," Tennit said proudly as the tea was poured. "You can thank her for what you're about to drink."
"I think we should thank the All," mother said. Then she tempered her sharpness with a thin smile at her new daughter-in-law. "And then we shall thank Mrs. Cliff."
"How did you meet?" Bell wanted to know. She glanced briefly at Rassi's swollen abdomen. "And conduct a romance during a land campaign?"
"You can't march all the time," Rassi answered.
Tenn was holding Rassi's hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it. "She saved my life," he said. "Over and over and over. Sergeant Fisher - that's Rassi - was in charge of the medical unit I was assigned to."
"You were not the commander?" father asked.
"I had nothing to do with administration," Tenn said. "My job was to save lives. Rassi's job was to make sure I could do my job. She's very good at her job."
"An administrator," mother said.
"And a nurse," Tenn said. "The lass has many talents."
And is smart and shrewd, I thought, watching her watching us. Were we going to be accepting, or was her relationship with Tennit making trouble for him with his family? Did we believe in meritocracy or merely pay it lip service as so many people did?
"You're a Fisher?" I said. "Perhaps we are related. There are Fishers among our ancestors. Seven generations back a Fisher and a Baker married and managed to buy some land. Their children changed the family name to Cliff." It was the first step in the climb from yeoman into the gentry class. We had no records of how our yeomen ancestors had made their way up from the working class. Though I think we should be even prouder of that difficult effort.
There was considerable silence after I spoke. We sipped tea. I ate more sweet biscuits and candied fruit than was good for me - but
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