Rosemary Thorne's Arc

Chapter 16 of 24

The morning after her confession, Rosemary counted what she had left. A cottage. A garden. A man at her table who had no place in the village but her bed. The banns would be read in four days. If Damien stood in the church a stranger, the priest's blessing would sound like a joke. She set a cup of tea in front of him. "You need work by Sunday." Damien looked up. "Any work?" "Honest work. Something a neighbor can name when they're asked what you do." He nodded. He pulled on his boots. He had not argued with her once since the kiss at the gate. They walked to the village together. Rosemary kept her chin up past the well. Two women turned their backs. A third nodded, small and quick, and looked away before anyone saw. Rosemary counted the nod as a coin in her pocket. The smith wouldn't take him. The wheelwright wouldn't either. The miller said his boys did the lifting and closed the door. By noon Damien's jaw was set. Rosemary felt the four days shrinking. She went to the bakery last, because she had sworn she wouldn't. Mabel Crumb was pulling loaves. Flour dusted her forearms. She looked at Rosemary over the counter and did not smile. "I paid you once to lie," Rosemary said. "I'm here to pay you to tell the truth." Mabel set the paddle down. "Go on." "He needs work. Real work, where people see him sweat. You know every man in this village who's short a pair of hands." "I know them," Mabel said. "They also know you stood at your gate and called yourself a liar." "I did." Rosemary set a folded cloth on the counter. Inside was the half-pendant Damien had returned to her, the amethyst catching the oven light. "This was my mother's. It's worth more than what I owe you. Find him a place by Friday and it's yours." Mabel looked at the stone a long time. She did not touch it. "Put that away." Rosemary didn't move. "Put it away, girl." Mabel wiped her hands on her apron. "The carter broke his wrist last week. He's been crying into his ale about the load to market Saturday. I'll send him up your path tonight. He'll pay in coin, not cloth." "Why?" "Because a woman who'll sell her mother for a man might actually mean the vow." Mabel pushed the cloth back across the counter. "Wear that Sunday. Let them see it on your neck." The carter came at dusk. He looked at Damien's shoulders and named a wage. Damien said yes before he finished the sentence. They shook on it at the door. Rosemary watched from the step. Damien had work. The village had a name to attach to him by Sunday. She touched the half-pendant in her pocket and felt the shape of what she had almost spent.