We all have something

[Lovely]

August 7, Year 1


"Angel you here?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at the noise he hoped was her coming to see him.

"Maybe.." She replied softly, seeming to hide shyly in the doorway.

"You don't have to hide, just a dumb blacksmith... with one reaaally heavy hammer."

"Mmm but he's still nice to me .. and I'm just a young... wh*re." She used the word she knew most associated with her as she inched into the smithy to see him.

"Why not be nice to you?"

"Because I'm a... wh*re." She paused and used the word again, it didn't seem all that hard to understand from her side of things. "...and well... not all respectable."

"So my brother's a drunkard and another's a priest... we all have something." He smiled for her.

She looked down at the ground. "You sure do." She whispers softly. "But.. not a girl like me.." Raises her eyes a bit. "A girl like me, has nothing.. and I have more than most in my position. Tessa's not like.. others who run a house.. She's real nice like... a real lady she is."

"Tessa's a fair bit smarter'n most who run anythin'... knows what it's like bein'... well, what she was once, I gather, and makes sure y'all don't suffer none." He watched her curiously, motioning for her step back as he moved around to the bellows to stoke up the fire. "Watch y'self. A girl like you's got a lot she prolly don't even know. Like that right pretty smile," he nodded with his own smile as he pumped the handle of the bellows and the air sighed in protest as it was forced into the coals, making them glow yellow. His own face was sooted and greased from the morning's work enough to hide the reddish tint that darkened from his comment.

She shook her head in protest as she stepped aside, letting him have room to move. "Pretty smile.. well that's something.. I reckon.. I guess some might think that's worth something." She hmphed a bit and sighed. "Like the men who toss me coin now and then when I'm sweeping and such... but really a girl like me.. if it weren't for Tessa I'd been sold up to the first bidder and been seasoned in the upstairs rooms for years already... Would have been.. I was only eleven and I knew he was gonna make me.. hadn't been for Tess coming when she did... well it's the past now... no use dwelling on it... I know one day.. I'm gonna have to.. " She trailed off looking out to the quiet street.

"Gonna have to...?" He looked confused. "You mean you haven't...?"

Her cheeks rosed up and she shook her head, biting her lower lip softly. "N..no I haven't... now shh.. don't you go telling on me.. you hear?"

[Lovely]

The hammer missed the softened metal altogether, landing on the wooden platform beneath the anvil. For the moment, the metal and tools drew his attention from his embarrassment from making her say something like that out loud even if she really hadn't said anything. An audible curse rolled out which he seethed back and paused, stopping a moment in his actions to turn and speak over his shoulder. "Didn't mean to say that... not in front of a lady n'all..."

She giggled softly. "Well don't worry than, cause you didn't." She leaned to the side, trying to look around him, without getting in the way. "You didn't hurt yourself, now did you?"

"Nooo, didn't hurt nothin'... 'cept maybe my pride a li'l is all. Haven't missed in I don't know how long... and you saw it," he winked, pulling a freshly softened iron back to the block. "M'alright, just... wasn't expectin'... you know." He shrugged and tapped the metal to set his aim and started the rythmic pounding on what was to be a new horseshoe.

"It was only little ole me... not to worry.. I didn't really see, nothing.." She nodded her head, standing back a bit as he worked, her curious eyes watching him, following his well muscled arms as he moved. A certain and obvious appreciation for his form and his work showed upon her face.

The metal expanded and twisted quickly in his care, curving gently around the neck of the anvil, taking its more familiar shape with ease. He worked without gloves, shifting his irons with a stiffened chamois he tucked the corner of in his pocket as he worked - one for holding and turning the piece he worked on, and another, soaked in oil, that he used to clean the soot from the nearly-finished product to inspect for flaws. He put the shoe back in the coals to be readied for finishing and took a piece from the cooling bucket to clean off. This was a specially requested piece. "Can I tell y'somethin'?" He asked her, looking around for the others then inspecting the piece as he started to polish it... an iron shaft for the top of a walking stick...

She watched him look around and her head turned to do the same, she smiled a little at herself and then took a step closer to him. "Of course you can." She spoke softly in response to his querry, her eyes sweeping over his face and settling her gentle gaze to his.

"Whaddya suppose a man like what ordered this piece is like? Got money, plenty of women," he said, looking at her as if to say his 'plenty' were the girls she worked with. "But something so raw and hard like this? Don't fit, huh?"

She frowned and then shrugged. "Sure it fits.. kind of man with plenty of money.. and plenty of.. certain girls.. something has to be.. different.. a man with plenty of money, why not pursue plenty of fine upstanding ladies?"

He showed her the unusual piece he'd made from a rough drawing. This customer had been specific about the size and general idea, seven or eight thin bars that met at the top and bowed out, like a cage around the top of the cane with a pure weight of a solid iron ball in the center. The 'cage' twisted slightly, each bar shaping into a snaking 'S' from the top. The grip was certainly not comfortable for the hand in any way he could tell, the S shaped bands being rough and sharp. The weight was cumbersome for a gentleman's cane as well. Again he looked at her, questioning the function of such an odd piece. "Why not a statue or an ornament? Why a cane?"

She eyed the piece warily, swallowing a bit and then looking away with a shrug. It wasn't the first time she'd seen such a piece of work, though not quite as pretty... "Maybe just cause it looks.. the way it does?" She had the expression of knowing something she didn't want to tell or remembering something she didn't want to think about. Angel was not a bought girl yet, but she was around enough to know, see, and hear things. She fetched linens, baths, drinks, and food for the other girls, assisting in all sorts of ways around the house. Saw the men and heard them talking... "Everything has it's purpose... even if it doesn't make sense to us.. there's a reason for it." She said quietly.

[Lovely]

He watched her, knowing what he thought and fearing for her and the other girls. "Just a cane," he muttered, tossing the thing back in the bucket now that it was dried. "Don't make no sense," he muttered, unclear whether he was still talking about the cane as he watched her expressions.

"Just a cane to you and most other people.. and a fine looking one at that." She shifted the toe of her shoe in the dirt and then glanced up at him. "Lived all my life seeing the raw and harsher side of people and life... been around a little to see things... a fine man... from a decent family.. shouldn't ought to consider knowing nothing about."

"I'm not one to consider much outside o' what I know... which ain't much," he said, distracting himself with a forced grin as he grabbed another iron to start on. The man was due by that afternoon, but it was one customer Doyle had little interest in speaking with, and less interest in taking money from for such an odd item. "Just know what I like and don't... and what don't like me... that there don't like me none at all. Just a bad feelin' makin' it... worse sellin' it, but he asked. Wouldn't do my daddy no good to tell him no, not now it's already made and the iron's used." He muttered and rambled, seeming to argue with himself about it as he hammered a stroke and paused. "Sunday... all be feelin' better after that," he nodded, indicating the words with the priest would make it all well.

Her eyes went to the piece and she nodded in agreement, but to which part of what he'd said, was not clear. "I don't suppose.. you'd tell me.. if I asked who it was for?"

He looked up at her and nodded the general direction to that end of town. Not many folk lived that way, though it was still a vague indication. "You'll know him by the chill that walks in with him."'

She nodded, a sort of sinking feeling in her stomach. Not many who lived that way and one with money and who frequented the house... didn't take much to guess who it was. "I know a couple.. who give me chills.. and not any kind of good shivers either." She glanced back at Doyle, her eyes almost pleading, as if to beg him not to give the man.. his 'stick'. "There's one.. comes in almost nightly.. had his eye on me.. I know to make myself scarce when he's there.. Tessa put him off a few times, but he get's ornery.. he just.." She gestured and shivered as if the thought of him ran a cold icicle down her spine. "I don't want it.. to end up being him... Tessa's told him I was entertaining others.. so he'd leave me alone, but.. " her eyes went to that visciously curved 'stick'. "He could get very persuasive.. sometimes.. a girl is left with no choice... I don't want it to be like that.. don't want it to be him.." She sighed. "Listen to me.. huh? Like someone of my position can be.. so.. selective.."

He shrugged, "Well if you was already entertainin'... maybe he ain't can say a thing about it, hm?" He looked up slowly, not sure he could look her in the eye with what he suggested, not wanting her to think... "Not necessarily entertainin' such as all he'd want or nothin'... or anyone'd want, but maybe just... visitin'?"

She nodded, a little half amused smile coming to her lips. "Sure.. I guess.. but now who all would just come.. visitin' me?" She faltered a bit on the last, tilting her head to take a better look at him. "Do.. you mean.. you?" She bit her lip and blushed a light rose color. "that's.. mighty nice of you.. to offer." She seemed a bit lost for words.. "You'd do that.. ?"

"Just long as you don't go tellin' my brothers... any of 'em... likely they each get the story wrong, best not to tell 'em."

She smiled tipped a little brighter and she nodded, her eyes taking on a slight shine. "I won't tell them... don't have much reason to talk to any of them anyhow, other than a 'good afternoon'." She took a step closer to him, looking up to him as he was taller than she was. "Thank you.." She spoke quiet and leaned up to press her soft lips to his sooted cheek. .."Doyle." She whispered his name, calling him by his familar instead of mister Carlisle for her sincere thanks of his kind offer.

He smiled gently, a little more eased than the moment before. "Now don't go messing your pretty face... get soot all over," he protested teasingly. "Better get on before Tessa or the others come lookin', too. Mister's due to pick that up soon and you might not wanna be here."

She giggled lightly at first, pulling a silken pink hankerchief from her pocket to wipe her face. She sobered quickly from her glee at the mention of his customer. Angel nodded and glanced back at the stick. "His poor wife... he brags about giving her a lickin'.." She shook her head, sadly and turned back. "You're right.. I should scoot.." She reached over and pulled his apron out a little, placing her hankerchief into his pocket. "You'll be needing that later." She winked, flashing him a brief but beautiful smile before stepping away toward the doors.

His hand went to the kerchief but his eyes stayed on her as she walked away. Rory had been murmuring something about a come-uppance on the Mister but no one'd said anything certain until now. He debated telling him now and his eyes went to the shaft for the cane. He'd have to say something.. Doyle watched her go and moved over to a pile of tooled wood, smoothed and oiled, looking for one to fit the headpiece to get it fastened for the man before he arrived. The metal felt colder than it should have in his hand and heavier than anyone would ever want for a walking aide. He stuffed the thought away with Angel's kerchief, tucking it deeper in his pocket for now and getting to work on the cane.