Racing across the cow pasture, Elizabeth and Mary were all but neck and neck as they leapt over the various reminders of the livestock left behind, the edge of the field drawing close. If she kept the pace, Elizabeth’s usual undefeated record would remain–the interrupted race of earlier uncounted, naturally.
“Ooo! Oof! Oww!” Mary sounded behind, various thuds and plodding noises mingled within.
Whirling as she came to a halt, Elizabeth returned the way she had come at the sight of her sister laying face down amid the dirt and manure.
“Mary!” Elizabeth cried as she reached her sister, the sputtering noises of Mary as she began to lift her face from the earth a welcome sign. “Are you alright?”
Pushing herself to a seated position, Mary stared down at her dirt covered hands, eyes wide.
“Mary?” Elizabeth tried again, her hands moving to examine Mary’s head.
Shaking. Her Mary shook. She?
The shaking merging into a deep, rolling laughter, Mary made her way unsteadily to her feet; her dress and face covered in various brown patches and the odd bit of dried grass.
Sitting back on her heels, Elizabeth gazed up at her sister, face pinched until, after a few moments, she joined in Mary’s laughter, the amusement of both growing as Mary held out her filthy dress, shoulders raising and lowering at the sight.
“I would have won if you had kept to your feet,” Elizabeth managed as she stood.
“Of course,” Mary mocked playfully, “none of us–save Lydia last May–have ever managed to beat you.”
“You all cheated on that occasion. Therefore, it does not count. Of course she won after you and Kitty distracted me so Jane might tie a string between my shoes.”
“She may yet beat you without our help one day, you know,” Mary smiled as she wiped uselessly at her dress. “She has come closer than any of us.”
“If you insist,” Elizabeth chuckled, “I, however, practice far more. I have the advantage, you see!”
Mirth dying as she wiped harder at her dress, Mary frowned, “This is going to take forever to clean–I suppose I ought to clean it myself? The staff are far too busy given the harvest. In any case,” she huffed, “to countermand your advantage, you forget Lydia’s. She is taller and her stride–when actually making an effort–is longer than yours. She is only fourteen you will recall as well, she could grow taller still. You, however, are far less likely to gain any height. I fear defeat may be yours one day.”
Trudging through the field, Elizabeth admired the soft swathe of clouds overhead before laughing, “That remains to be seen. Though, I hope that, should it be so, I receive my defeat with the same quiet, unassuming manner I receive my many victories in.”
“Then we shall never hear the end of it,” Mary laughed as she hurried ahead, Elizabeth close behind as the elder sought to catch the younger.
∞∞∞
“Are you ready for the next batch?” Jane asked her two youngest sisters as Elizabeth and Mary rushed inside, Elizabeth the victor by a mere stride.
“Mary! Lizzy!” Jane cried as she observed them, her gaze lingering on Mary’s dirt-laden form; Kitty and Lydia ceasing their work in favour of giggling. “Away… the pair of you! Filthy. Utterly! Go clean yourselves and then come quickly, there is more than enough work for you two.”
“Lovely to see you too,” Elizabeth laughed as she and Mary hurried past the busy servants and sisters to do as bid, the never-ending tasks of harvest time causing their usually patient sister to develop a temper unmatched by any of them.
Within eight minutes Elizabeth, tidy and ready for work, reappeared in the kitchen, another eight minutes or more coming and going before Mary returned–smelling far better and appearing, once again, suited for the kitchen rather than the pasture.
“The harvest?” Kitty questioned as she wrapped a string under the lip of a jug, the waxed cloth made secure. “I believe it is beetroots this week? Is it as fine as expected?”
Nodding, Elizabeth continued to clean the carrots left in her charge. “It is. In fact, the harvest is better than expected… The onions will be next, and they appear just as fine.”
“Will they start on those before the week is out?” Jane interjected, her earlier ire diminished, though her tone still held a harried sharpness.
“Today in fact! And it is all thanks to Mary,” Elizabeth smiled as she cast a quick glance toward Mary, the younger pulling her lips inward as she prepared for Elizabeth’s praise. “She suggested that men might begin the harvest–though the horses are needed elsewhere–for the onions must dry a little in any case, and with the fine weather they can as easily do it in the field as not. That should see us ahead on the harvest and save the room we would normally use to dry the onions for better uses.”
“That was wise,” Lydia noted graciously, half a smile forming before she frowned at the mountain of berries in front of her. “If only we might get ahead on our work too. I know we have all been busy at it, yet, there appears no end in sight. La, it would be a fine thing to have a day off to go to town… a new ribbon would do me well, for I know of no better cure for bad humour than a new ribbon.”
“I cannot say about a new ribbon, but I would dearly love a day off,” Kitty sighed over the leeks, eyes drifting upward.
“It is your beau you love,” Lydia teased as she wiggled side to side. “If you had a day off you would invite him for tea!”
“Lydia,” she cried, “I… you should not say such things!”
