My Sweet Daisy

Chapter 25 - To The Constables We Go

Chapter 25

To The Constables We Go

She sat by the sidewalk for so long, drowning in misery, her legs felt crampy and wiggly when she stood up. Well, what more could she do but to start on her journey back to join the others. They were probably looking for her by now. She retraced her steps through the market, which strangely had become even busier. The crowd pressed on her from the back. Unable to push out of the horde, she was shoved forward until she was right in the center of the commotion. And there was Cherry gleefully munching away in the midst of some strange men, one of which was gripping her reins.

"Oh, Thank God. Cherry, you didn't leave me here," she cried, running to hug the horse.

"Does she belong to you, girl?" the man who held the reins roughly demanded.

"Indeed, she does. I lost her while I was making some purchases in a store," she explained.

"Then you owe us, missy," the man growled, baring his large, square teeth. "This horse of yours threw down one of our barrels of apples and ate through it."

Daisy looked around at the apples rolling on the ground, trampled by passers-by, or being snatched by hungry children hiding under the stalls, and at the half-empty barrel standing beside the burly man. "Oh dear," she cried in despair. "I am truly sorry about that. Of course, I would pay you for the apples."

"You would pay for them, won't you?" The man stroked his chin as he brought his face close enough to hers that she could peer into his brown eyes on eye-level and also, unfortunately, get the full blow of the alcohol-stench breath so much so that her eyes teared. She hated the look on his face.

"Yes, I must pay every pence. How much is it?" she fished for her little pouch from the pocket of her trousers.

"I thought at first glance that you were a mere tomboy servant on an errand but you, missy, are too refined to be a servant. In fact, you must be from a good home, a rich merchant's house mayhaps?"

"What does my household have to do with this?" Daisy said, starting to feel uneasy and thus, irritated at such pointed questions. "Look, my good man, I have to go. If you don't mind, let me pay you back and I'll be on my way. I have already spent so much time looking for Cherry as it is."

The man sniggered and looked around at his colleagues, "She's a fine girl, isn't she? She is pleasing to the eye, and she has quite a mouth on her."

Daisy's spine pricked with fear. She had heard of young ladies kidnapped and ransomed or had worse things befalling them. If the burly man and his companions heaved her over their shoulders there and then, who would care enough to intervene?

"Let's get a good look at her, shall we, Bernard," the tallest and meanest suggested, sucking on his lower lip menacingly. Daisy's skin crawled just watching him.

Bernard, the burly man, stepped closer but before she could dodge, he caught her by the collar of her shirt and made her hat topple down in the struggle to hold on to her.

"Well, it's no wonder she has a mouth. She's Irish for God's sake. She must be an adventurous daughter of one of the merchants that sailed in from the mainland," the tall man said with a snort.

"Not Irish. I'm not Irish." Daisy gritted out, wriggling to free herself from the burly grip. Immediately she came loose, she backed away to a safer distance and rearranged her garments. "It's true my father's mother descended from the Irish but that's a long ancestor down the line and my father is not a rich merchant. He's a farmer, in the countryside." That should settle the matter of her worth to them.

Well, Missy, you just have to pay a strip of silver to settle the score," Bernard informed her.

"A strip of silver? Did Cherry trample on two barrels of apples or you just have the nerve to cheat me?" she fumed.