A Very Important Guest

by ~An-san

Briony groaned when the old door's hinges squeaked unhappily.  She peered out from underneath the covers.

"It's not even sunrise yet!"

"Get up!  Up, up, up, Brie-cheeks.  You should be ashamed!  Your brother was up an hour ago.  We have an important guest today."

Her sleepiness vanished instantly.  An important guest meant she was going to work in the kitchen today!  Anything was better than field chores.  Briony hopped out of bed and searched for the clothes she threw on the ground yesterday.

"Mother, where are¬-"

"Don't even think about wearing those smelly old things."  Her mother walked out, dirty clothes in hand.  "Wear the dress today."  It was then that Briony spotted the starchy white maid's dress laying on the edge of the bed.  Stifling another groan, she pulled the itchy material on.

"This guest better be very, very important," she grumbled.


After a quick wash-up, Briony hurried to the kitchen.  Her mother was already stirring up clouds of flour dust, cracking eggs, and pouring milk and butter.

"Johnnie!  Where's that molasses can I asked for?  Thank you, dear.  Don't wipe your hands on your pants!  I need very clean hands.  Stay away from the oven.  Get me the ginger, please!"

"I'm here, mother."

Her mother spun around, eyes wide.  "What are you doing standing there?  Out!  Out, out!"  Briony flinched in surprise.

"Don't you need help?"

"Out!  I didn't put you in a nice dress just to get it dirtied!  Go to the sitting room and be a lady.  Do some needlework, if you will."

"Do some what?"  But her mother had returned to the kitchen.  No work?  She wandered over to the sitting room and sat on the ground.  What kind of guest were they having?  Her mother had never taught her to "be a lady" or "do some needlework."  And why was Johnnie in the kitchen?  Her little brother had never been allowed in there before.

"I'll go see what Father's up to," she decided, and went to put on her work boots.

Outside, the sky had turned red-orange, making the cornfield appear hazy maroon.  Briony searched for her father's straw hat above the stalks, ears alert for his working song.  She neither saw nor heard anything.  "He's not out here?"  Every day was a work-day; that's what her father always said.  Where had he gone?

"Briony!"  Her mother leaned out the kitchen window, brandishing a spatula.  "What did I say about being a lady?  Get back in the house!  I don't want a single spot on your dress.  And do something about your hair!"

"Where's Father?"

Her mother waved at the road.  "He's getting the goose!  Hurry up and come inside!"
A goose?  They never had a goose.  They got a chicken for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but a goose?  Surely her mother had gone mad.  Briony traipsed back to the house, utterly confused.  Perhaps this guest was very, very, very, very important.


Eventually, when the cooking was done, her mother came to arrange her hair.

"Who's coming today, mother?" Briony ventured.

Her mother stabbed the final pins into her hair.  "The Lady Doras of Darfield."

"A Lady?"

"Of course, Brie-cheeks, isn't that what I just said?"

Briony scratched the tip of her nose.  "Why's a Lady coming?"  Her mother batted her hand.

"Ladies don't scratch their noses.  She's coming to examine you."

"For what?  I'm not sick or anything."

"She's not a doctor, Brie, and you'd better be nice to her.  Everything depends on it!"  Briony glanced at her mother in the mirror.  Somehow, she seemed to have sprouted new wrinkles overnight.  Well, being nice was not that hard, if this was that important to her mother.