He hath put my brethren far from me, and mine acquaintance are verily estranged from me. My kinsfolk have failed, and my familiar friends have forgotten me.
I wont forget you, she said silently to the dead. It seemed so pitiful a thing to sayso small and futile. And yet the only thing in her power.
She shivered briefly, tightening her grip on Jemmy.
A sudden rustle of the hay, and Roger slid in behind her. He fumbled a bit, spreading his own cloak over her, then sighed with relief, his body relaxing heavily against hers as his arm came round her waist.
Been a bloody long day, hasnt it?
She groaned faintly in agreement. Now that everything was quiet, with no more need to talk, watch, pay attention, every fiber of her muscles seemed about to dissolve with fatigue. There was no more than a thin layer of hay between her and cold, hard ground, but she felt sleep lapping at her like the waves of the tide creeping up a sandy shore, soothing and inexorable.
Did you get something to eat? She put a hand on his leg, and his arm tightened in reflex, holding her close.
Aye, if ye think beers food. Many folk do. He laughed, a warm fog of hops on his breath. Im fine. The warmth of his body was beginning to seep through the layers of cloth between them, dispelling the nights chill.
Jem always gave off heat when he slept; it was like holding a clay firepot, with him curled against her. Roger was putting out even more heat, though. Well, her mother did say that an alcohol lamp burned hotter than oil.
She sighed and snuggled back against him, feeling warm, protected. The cold immensity of the night had lifted, now that she had her family close, together again, and safe.
Roger was humming. She realized it quite suddenly. There was no tune to it, but she felt the vibration of his chest against her back. She didnt want to chance stopping him; surely that was good for his vocal cords. He stopped on his own, though, after a moment. Hoping to start him again, she reached back to stroke his leg, essaying a small questioning hum of her own.
Hmmm-mmmm?
His hands cupped her buttocks and fastened tight.
Mmm-hmmm, he said, in what sounded like a combination of invitation and satisfaction.
She didnt reply, but made a slight dissentient motion of the behind. Under normal conditions, this would have caused him to let go. He did let go, but only with one hand, and this in order to slide it down her leg, evidently meaning to get hold of her skirt and ruckle it up.
She reached back hastily and grabbed the roving hand, bringing it round and placing it on her breast, as an indication that while she appreciated the notion and under other circumstances would be thrilled to oblige, just this moment she thought
Roger was usually very good at reading her body language, but evidently this skill had dissolved in whisky. That, orthe thought came suddenly to herhe simply didnt care whether she wanted
Roger! she hissed.
He had started humming again, the sound now interspersed with the low, bumping noises a teakettle makes, just before the boil. Hed got his hand down her leg and up her skirt, hot on the flesh of her thigh, groping swiftly upwardand inward. Jemmy coughed, jerking in her arms, and she made an attempt to kick Roger in the shin, as a signal of discouragement.
God, youre beautiful, he murmured into the curve of her neck. Oh, God, so beautiful. So beautiful so hmmm The next words were a mumble against her skin, but she thought hed said slippery. His fingers had reached their goal, and she arched her back, trying to squirm away.
Roger, she said, keeping her voice low. Roger, there are people around! And a snoring toddler
wedged like a doorstop in front of her.
He mumbled something in which the words dark and nobodyll see were distinguishable, and then the groping hand retreatedonly to grab a handful of her skirts and start shoving them out of the way.
He had resumed the humming, pausing momentarily to murmur, Love you, love you so much .
I love you, too, she said, reaching back and trying to catch his hand. Roger, stop that!
He did, but immediately reached around her, and grasped her by the shoulder. A quick heave, and she was lying on her back staring up at the distant stars, which were at once blotted out by Rogers head and shoulders as he rolled on top of her in a tremendous rustling of hay and loosened clothing.
Jem She flung out a hand toward Jemmy, who appeared not to have been disturbed by the sudden disappearance of his backstop, but was still curled up in the hay like a hibernating hedgehog.
Roger was, of all things, singing now, if one could call it that. Or chanting, at least, the words to a very bawdy Scottish song, about a miller who is pestered by a young woman wanting him to grind her corn. Whereupon he does.
He flung her down upon the sacks, and there she got her corn ground, her corn ground . Roger was chanting hotly in her ear, his full weight pinning her to the ground and the stars spinning madly far above.