Page 47 of The Starling and the Hatter

I put the rest on her neck. “What about your shoulder? We’re running out of hands.”

“Here.” She bent her elbow so that she could use the hand on her stung arm to hold the leaves to her neck. “You’ll have to get more leaves.”

“Where are the other stings?”

“My shoulder blade.”

Right. Where I’d flicked off the wasp earlier. I pushed her chemise out of the way, my throat feeling suddenly swollen as I fixed my gaze on her back and saw that there were four stings grouped close together on her shoulder blade. The tiny demon that had clung to her dress had certainly left his mark. The stings were red and puffy. They looked awful.

“All right. More leaves,” I said mostly to myself and crawled around, finding more of the herb. As I rubbed it between my hands, I asked, “How does this help?”

“It draws out the venom.”

“Oh.” I probably should have paid more attention to Dorothy’s home remedies. I rubbed my hands together until the leaves released their juices, then I carefully spread them over Elise’s swollen back and held them in place. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

“Not your fault,” she bit out, though she didn’t seem to be shaking as much.

“How do you know all of this?”

She shrugged her uninjured shoulder. “I’ve lived outside my whole life. You pick up on things.”

I was incredibly grateful for her knowledge, because without it I would have been completely useless trying to help her. “Is it helping?”

“Yes,” she said, taking a deep breath. “It’s already significantly better.”

“Good,” I said. Knowing her pain had eased made my worry for her ease as well. And as the distress of the moment subsided, the feel of Elise’s bare skin beneath my hands made my mouth go dry. Part of me wanted to ask how much longer the herb would need to be left on, hoping to escape the tension that seemed to soak this situation. The other part of me was content to stay silent, grateful for the opportunity to ease her pain, and yes, to touch her skin. The skin of her shoulder blade was much paler than her forearms or her neck—untouched by the sun. The red welts on her pale skin stood out more dramatically than the others. It was a good thing her shaking had subsided; otherwise I would probably have been a worried mess. Or…more of a worried mess.

Elise

As the pain subsided and I was able to relax, I became acutely aware of the way Hatcher’s fingers were pressed to my bare shoulder. My eyebrows scrunched together as I tried to figure out why the sensation made me uncomfortable and excited at the same time. I supposed it was simply because I was used to having the layers of fabric as a barrier. Still, I’d never been overly concerned about modesty like the high-born ladies were. When it came to survival, proper dress simply didn’t matter, especially amongst all the other festival rats, whose biggest concern was their next meal.

Yet, sitting here in the soft dappled sunlight with the rich earth beneath me and Hatcher’s warm presence behind me…I understood the vulnerability inherent in my situation, and yet that vulnerability was almost….appealing? I tried to shake off my unease, telling myself that since I fully trusted Hatcher, there was no need for it. But the more I thought on it, the more heat gathered in my chest.

When he adjusted his fingers, moving them to better press the plantain onto my skin, my stomach swooped and I had to move away.

“Thank you,” I said in the calmest voice I could manage as I scooted forward. Why was I reacting this way? Why did I want…more of that unsettling feeling? I’d long ago let go of any romantic notions where Hatcher was involved. They certainly shouldn’t be coming up now.

Hatcher let his hand fall away and I pulled the sleeve of my chemise and dress back into place, trapping some of the leaves between my skin and the fabric so they would hopefully keep doing some good.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked from behind me.

“Mm-hmm” was all I could manage as I tucked my hair behind my ear and stared at the ground, pulling my knees to my chest. Where was Marshall? Still talking to the other travelers?

“Good.” I could hear the awkwardness in his voice. Was that because of me? Could he feel how confused and tangled up I was inside? Being around Hatcher had always been so easy, and to have this sudden nervousness was disconcerting. “I’ll get the fire started,” he said.

“You’ll have to get more wood. I dropped what I had collected.” I was anxious for him to be somewhere else. His presence was suddenly confusing, pulsing with an energy that had never been there before. It was similar to what I’d felt with Robert when he held my hand, but that was ridiculous. This wasn’t the same at all.

“Very well. I’ll be back.” I sensed him moving closer and then felt him press a kiss to the top of my head before climbing to his feet and striding off.

I told myself to breathe. As he moved off through the trees, I looked over the stings, still covered in bits of wet plantain leaf. I sat still, doing my best to keep all the leaves in place. The stinging had subsided substantially, but it wasn’t entirely gone.

My unease, on the other hand, was still fully present. I twisted my mouth to the side as I tried to unravel what was going on in my mind and my heart. Was it because I missed Robert? I did miss him. I was still heartbroken that he’d left me. But this didn’t feel the way it felt with Robert. It was so different that I couldn’t put words to it. I tried to shake myself out of my mishmash of thoughts and feelings. It had been difficult enough to let go of my girlhood crush of Hatcher the first time. I didn’t need it interfering with a realistic relationship with Robert now. We’d be in Dressle soon, and hopefully Kat would be willing to knock some sense into me.

***

The wagon rumbled into the small yard in front of the Hatchers’ home. Marshall jumped down as soon as the wheels stopped rolling. “Dorothy!” he hollered, jogging to the house and pushing through the front door.

I grinned as I heard squeals of excitement from both small girls and grown women alike. Hatcher chuckled as he hopped down and then offered me a hand. I took it, and just as my feet hit the ground, the door was flung open and Twyla and Didi came racing out. “Elise!”