With each step, the fog grew thicker and thicker, becoming so dense Briar could only see inches in front of her. It was an odd feeling of white-blindness, viewing only her scuffed boots and a bit of the dirt path a foot in front. She was so busy watching her feet that when she did meet up with another person, she was practically on top of him. The only warning she’d had was a jingle of the harness on the peddler’s poor donkey.
“Oh, excuse me,” said Briar, covering up her startled fright. “This fog makes it hard to see. I’m farther ahead than I thought if I’ve joined up the main road.”
The peddler wore layers of rags with an odd assortment of accoutrements tied to his person. A scruffy beard, a too-floppy hat, and a cane completed his look. At his side, a sorry-looking donkey pulled an even sorrier-looking covered cart behind them.
If he at least had a donkey, he must have good things to trade. Out of curiosity, she examined the bundles hanging off the sides of the cart as she drew nearer. Saucepans, tin cups, a sewing machine, a hatchet, a birdcage, a dress form, a croquet mallet.
He saw her interest and stopped the donkey. “Whoa there,” came the thin voice.
“Nay, sir,” she called out, hurriedly. There was no point wasting his time. “I’ve no money to spend today.” She smiled. “Thanks for pretending I did, though.”
She glanced at her dirty hands and patched skirt. A good scrubbing hadn’t gotten the oil out from under her fingernails, nor from the hem of her dress that dragged on the dirty spinning room floor when she bent down to reset the builder on the frames.
“You have no news to trade, then?” he asked. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to these parts. Would like to know what’s what before I get to town.”
“Don’t know that I have news, either,” she said. “Is there anything in particular you want to know?”
“The Prince family still in residence?”
She smiled. “Always.” She thought of the youngest Prince and her smile dimmed. I wonder where Henry is right now. Did he make it across the Atlantic already, or did his ship get caught in a storm? He’s been gone several weeks; a letter should have arrived by now.
The peddler nodded. “Just as I would have it.”
His tone of voice threw Briar. It was like he wasn’t glad the Princes were still here.
“And you?” he continued. “Is your family new here? You don’t have features I recognize.”
“Fairly new,” she answered. She didn’t like handing out personal information. A better set of questions would be to ask about the prosperity of the mill to find out if he could sell his wares here.
“Are you a spinner girl?” The peddler’s eyes, a unique shade of blue, almost turquoise, bore into hers like he could read her thoughts and was daring her to lie to him.
“We have several prosperous mills in town,” she said, avoiding the personal question. “How long was it since you passed through here last?”
“Long time. Before the mills.”
“Before the mills? There wasn’t much of a town here then. A few farms and a general store was about it from what I hear.”
“And where, in particular, do you come from?” He studied her through narrow eyes. “Look more like a person who comes from the Emerald Isle with that fiery hair.”
Briar didn’t like the feeling she was getting from this peddler. He was too personal, in an odd way. Most peddlers tried to be complimentary to flatter a girl into spending her money. He was simply intrusive.
“I’ve been here since I was a child,” she said dismissively. That was all he was getting out of her. She shouldn’t have told him that much, for he was right about where she came from. She clamped her mouth shut and edged around his cart.
“And you are how old…sixteen, about to turn seventeen?” He tapped the syllables with his cane when he said sev-en-teen.
Again, he was spot-on. Her birthday was in July, next month. Mere weeks to have a plan in place by the time Nanny came home. She squirmed under his intuitiveness. “Nice talking to you. I best get on.”
He held out his cane to stop her path. “You’ve been so helpful; would you like to look at my wares? If anything I have wants to belong to you, you may have it as payment for your information. Never let it be said I don’t take care of my debts.”
Briar raised her eyebrows. If anything wants to belong to me? She was about to refuse, but a pretty piece of cloth waved at her in the breeze. Briar could ask Mim to teach her how to copy a fancy pattern. It wouldn’t hurt anything to look.
The peddler removed the rough wool cloth hiding the majority of the goods he had for sale, and stood back to let Briar get as close as she liked.
Hesitantly she approached, drinking in the objects like her poor room-mate Ania always did with the candy peddler. Briar had a little money set aside as a cushion in case she fell ill or had to miss work for any reason, but he was offering her something for free. Ethel would advise her to get something practical. Mim would have her select something beautiful. Perhaps she could find something both practical and beautiful.