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Post by Chørd on Mar 3, 2012 10:13:58 GMT -5
`Matthew It would appear that, yes, some people could in fact talk forever.
Matthew had lost track of what the other subaltern had been saying to him somewhere between the mention of tea shortages and fox hunting, and had taken up nodding and shaking his head at appropriate moments as his only input to the conversation – not that the other man would have let him get a word in edgeways, anyway. He appreciated Lieutenant Bennet's attempt to make small talk, but after a long day’s work and with his muscles aching dully, all he'd wanted do was find a quiet spot to himself and try and rest.
Matthew still had his tea mug clasped in his hands, warming them, but the drink inside it had been drained ages ago. No doubt his companion's had gone cold, since he'd spent the past ten or so minutes in a constant monologue.
Finally growing tired of the incessant chatting, he set his mug aside and got to his feet.
"Begging your pardon, but I think I'll take a walk," he said, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm. It was a chilly evening for certain, and no doubt was bound to get much colder as the night progressed.
"I'll join you," Bennet offered, standing up also and fixing his cocked hat on his head. They started to head down the line of tents, silent for a while as they watched the other officers and their servants busy around their own campfires.
"It would appear, sir, that you've torn your coat."
Matthew looked around as Bennet spoke, and glanced down to where the other lieutenant was indicating. He glowered at the offending rip there, embarassed that he hadn't noticed it before.
"So it would seem," he grumbled, pulling at the frayed thread ends on the edge of the tear and cursing as he only worsened it. "I must have caught it on something."
Bennet patted him reassuringly on the back, smiling. "Don't fret. I'll help you find a seamstress."
"Or I could pay a visit to the tailor in the nearest town," Matthew shrugged diffidently, flinching when the other man gave him another hefty clap on the back.
"You'll be throwing your money away!" He laughed. "And there's no sure guarantee you'll get your coat back anyway, especially if said tailor is sympathetic to the other side."
Matthew pouted dejectedly, allowing the other officer to steer him with the hand on his back through the tents. He'd be throwing his money away on seamstresses too, no doubt, as they'd likely overcharge him on account of him being an officer.
"After we see to your coat, I'll look into finding us some more feminine company," Bennet smiled coyly, his grin broadening when Matthew shot him a confused look. "It's a capital way to spend an evening; a woman at your side. Don't you think?"
Matthew opened his mouth to reply but was cut short as Bennet exclaimed again, finally removing his hand from the other officer's back and motioning to a group of camp followers, some of which were sewing.
"There," the man looked smug at his achievement at having found some of the dregs of military society, and looked to Matthew for approval, who stared back at him beseechingly. "They'll have your coat looking as good as new."
He couldn't help but wonder if Bennet had been mocking him as the man left him to it and headed back through the camp - supposedly to find this alleged 'feminine company'.
Matthew's shoulders slumped as he sighed, then approached the group of campfollowers, clearing his throat to attract their attention in case they hadn't noticed him already.
"Evening ladies," he attempted to put on his most charming smile, even though the last thing he felt like doing was talking to these women. "Would any of you be able to lend me your sewing skills?"
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Post by Bog on Mar 8, 2012 19:28:05 GMT -5
Were it not for the fact that she had needed the sixpence, Hannah would not be sitting with these women, whom she considered the most self-righteous of the regiment's followers. Sergeant Merton had promised her a sixpence if she stayed out of trouble for the evening, however, and this wager was entirely too much for her to pass up. So here she sat, a shirt draped across her lap, a needle in her hand.
Not that Private Chester's shirt needed that much mending, despite having the distinctive marks of a musket ball passing through it. She wasn't sure why Sergeant Merton had taken such an interest, but she hardly cared. A sixpence was a sixpence. Though she was beginning to think even that was not enough for her to endure the henlike nattering from these women. Who were they to preach about keeping one's self to one's self, anyway?
The arrival of two officers, which she would have ignored any other time, was now taken as a welcome distraction. One of them professed to have need of someone with sewing skills, though Hannah thought privately that a different sort of business would end up being included with that. Which was perfectly fine by her, right at that moment. These biddies would gossip and shake their heads no matter what, and if Hannah could ever be brought to care, she might curb her willingness to earn a penny here and there in her usual manner.
"Sewin', izzit?" She put a knot into the thread, tying it neatly near the freshly-washed shirt fabric, and deftly cut it with a quick snip from her little scissors. "I does that, an' fair cheap. 'Mongst other fings."
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Post by Chørd on Mar 9, 2012 11:52:58 GMT -5
`Matthew His relief at the youngest - and most aesthetically pleasing - of the seamstresses having responded to his question was clearly evident. It wasn't that he had anything against older women, and looks alone would not determine whether or not he'd have a conversation with someone, but in his past experiences the more matured camp followers didn't tend to be the most pleasant of company. Probably for the fact that they complained about anything and everything possible, and being badgered about conditions of this, prices of that and attitudes of others was not something Matthew cared to bother himself with at that moment in time - or any time, for that matter.
He could tell from the moment she spoke that her accent was going to grate on his nerves. It was something he could never understand - why commoners saw it necessary to miss out letters, slur certain sounds and pronounce things utterly wrong. It wasn't as if saying the existent 'g' on the end of the word took much effort to say, if it was a matter of laziness.
"I've got a tear," Matthew explained, fiddling irritably with the frayed edge of the rip in his coat. It could have been an unfixable gash or a simple matter of sewing the seams back together for all he knew, though he was certain it wasn't something that he'd be charged ridiculously for - and he wasn't about to pay ridiculously for it either.
"How much for you to fix it?" He asked, though already had in mind the highest price he'd pay.
He chose to ignore her last comment, fully aware of what other jobs she probably found herself doing around the camp. If he didn't respond to it then his answer couldn't interpreted wrongly, and he wouldn't find himself getting more than what he bargained for. Not that she wasn't attractive in her own sort of way, it was simply down to the fact that he had no doubt in his mind that she'd been through the hands of several of the soldiers, and heaven knew what they were carrying and whom they'd passed things on to.
"Can you do it now?" He pressed, turning his attention back to the sewing matter again, impatient to get his business seen to so he could return to the comfort of his own social class.
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Post by Bog on Mar 9, 2012 16:51:18 GMT -5
A tear. That was plain enough, Hannah thought. The silly fool was only making it worse by playing with it. She carefully folded John Chester's shirt and laid it aside. The officer was already asking about the price and all but demanding to have his coat attended to immediately. That was typical, wasn't it? Bloody officers.
"Oh aye, course I kin," she replied airily. "Ain't a fing, that. A tuppence oughta do ferrit, won't it, fer a tiny rip like that."
It was a shame that she would have possession of his coat for a while, though. Any other time, she would pick this boy's pockets without a second thought, but he would know exactly who to blame if she tried it now. Maybe another time. A tuppence for this seemed almost like too low a price, now she thought about it, but it was what she'd quoted so she had to stand by it. At least it meant she'd be able to eat for the next couple days.
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Post by Chørd on Mar 9, 2012 17:43:34 GMT -5
`Matthew The fact she wasn't overcharging him made up for her irritating voice, he supposed, though if he had to spend much more time in conversation with her Matthew had a feeling he'd end up snapping at her to shut up. That, or correcting her on the pronounciation of her words - which was appalling.
"Tuppence it is," he nodded. Having not had a clue about whether or not the tear was bad or not - though apparently it was only a tiny thing - he'd have been happy to pay up to a sixpence. But who was he to complain? Her loss, not his.
"You'll recieve your payment once the job's done," he explained, patting the pockets of his waistcoat to see if he actually had money on him. If not it was easily remedied - he was sure he could leave her sewing for five minutes to get her fee and trust her not to botch up the work or attempt to steal any spare pennies that may have been in the pockets of his coat. He rarely kept a record of what money he had on his person, though - an old habit he'd been scolded for in England - so like as not he wouldn't even realise anything had been taken until a much later date. By then the two regiments would probably have separated and gone their separate ways again and with it the seamstress would go, since Matthew was certain she was not attached to his regiment - her face was not one he recognised, unless she was a newcomer to the profession.
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Post by Bog on Mar 10, 2012 7:05:36 GMT -5
Typical, again. Officers never could take anything on faith. Did this lad think Hannah could get away with bilking him? These women would take a great deal of pleasure in informing on her. The hateful birds.
"Arrigh'," she said, holding her hands out expectantly. The job could not be done until she received the article in need of repairing. She doubted somehow that she could get anything else out of this officer. He seemed more like a schoolboy than a proper officer.
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Post by Chørd on Mar 10, 2012 8:07:18 GMT -5
`Matthew Thankfully she seemed to have very little to say to him, not that there was much to be said, though when she did speak he could feel himself getting more and more irritated with her.
"Alright," he snapped, shrugging off his coat and draping it over his arm, glaring at her scornfully. "It's alright. There's an 'l' and a 't' in the word - or is it too much effort for you to pronounce something correctly?"
He scowled at her for a moment longer before his expression softened. He probably shouldn't have snapped at her. She couldn't help her accent; if she'd been around commonfolk all her life then of course she'd talk like them. That, and it wasn't exactly justified for him to chide her. The rankers' speaking habits were the same as - if not worse than - hers, and he'd not once gotten wound up by them talking.
Still, he wasn't about to apologise - not in front of the other women, anyway. They watched him with mixed expressions on their faces, turning their attentions back to their sewing when he shot them an indignant look.
He shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot before he passed his coat over to the girl, tugging on the bottom of his waistcoat to straighten it out and giving a brief shiver at the cold. He'd be glad to excuse himself to fetch her payment as soon as he was assured she'd started the work.
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Post by Bog on Mar 10, 2012 15:53:30 GMT -5
Short tempered sod, wasn't he? Hannah sniffed imperiously. Then again, what else could you expect from the Quality?
"Elly-koo-shun's fer you lot," she replied primly, accepting the coat and examining the 'tear' as it had been described. Not a bad one at all, this. Of course, the coat was made of a finer quality of wool than she was used to, which meant she'd have to take an extra bit of care with it. This officer was obviously tight with his purse strings, if he was coming to her for this mending job instead of paying a proper tailor for it.
"Anyways, I'll 'ave it done directly like." So you can piss off and bother the men for a while, she thought, as she re-threaded her sewing needle.
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Post by Chørd on Mar 10, 2012 16:57:38 GMT -5
`Matthew There was no point in correcting her speaking any further. If anything, him picking up on her pronounciation would probably only encourage her to slur her words even more, just to wind him up.
"Evidently so," he muttered in response to her comment, watching her as she examined the tear. He could trust her, he assumed, to do a good job. If he wasn't satisfied with her work or she made a mess of the fabric, he'd be charging her for the purchase of a new one - though he doubted she'd have enough money to afford the fee even if she worked dawn to dusk for months on end.
"I'll fetch your payment," he nodded curtly, heading back through the camp and leaving her to re-thread her needle and get to fixing his garment.
As he walked back through the lines of tents he spotted Bennet who, as promised, had found female company. By the looks of it though he'd forgotten he was meant to include Matthew in the fun. The lieutenant shook his head disapprovingly, then shrugged, dismissing the matter, and entered his own tent. He'd find his own girl for the evening.
He took his time making his way back to the seamstress again, having no expectations of her being finished by the time he got back. If she had been being careful, she should have took her time anyway.
He held out her fee to her as he approached. "Tuppence, as agreed."
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Post by Bog on Mar 14, 2012 9:10:07 GMT -5
The officer's departure was roundly ignored, as Hannah had already bent her head to her work. Fortunately the damage to the superfine wool was not so severe that it would very long to repair. No doubt the stupid fellow had slipped while shaving or something.
His return, however, had to be noticed. So he had her tuppence, did he? "Which it'll be a minnet, won't it?" Clearly he could not see that her hands were rather busy. She was not about to risk losing her fee because she caused further harm to this miserly fool's coat. Though quite why she was taking such care was hard to say. He was an officer, after all, and none of that sort were ever any good. Too, he was not even of her regiment.
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Post by Chørd on Mar 14, 2012 16:57:53 GMT -5
`Matthew He pulled a face when she spoke, not entirely sure what she'd meant by the comment - or what she'd even said for that matter. Perhaps she was just grumbling to herself. No matter what she'd said, he dropped his hand back to his side, clasping the coin in his palm tightly. As much as he hadn't been expecting her to have been finished, he still felt at a loss at what to do with himself whilst he'd waited.
He took to watching her inquisitively as she continued with her task. She'd taken a decent amount of care with the job thus far, as far as he could tell. Obviously if he'd seen a proper tailor the job would likely be faultless, but for a tuppence he certainly couldn't complain.
He hesitated for a moment, watching the other women out of the corner of his eye. They were busy sewing, too. With luck that'd keep them occupied enough to keep their noses out of an officer's business.
"You mentioned other services? Earlier?" He asked quietly, hopefully loud enough for the seamstress girl to hear without the older women around her able to eavesdrop. He'd brought with him a spare shilling, unsure what price she'd charge for that sort of work. If her fees for it were as cheap as her sewing one was, then hopefully a shilling would suffice. Though he wouldn't be surprised if she charged higher, especially since he'd been less than polite towards her so far. Not that she could expect anything else from him really, on account of him being from a well-bred and wealthy family and her from what he could only guess to be some form of London's scum - the poor gutter-dwellers, and such. It just wouldn't be right if he treated her with the same manners he did a Lady.
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Post by Bog on Mar 18, 2012 16:50:43 GMT -5
Other services? Hannah glanced up from her work, feeling inwardly dismayed. Did she look like she made a habit of tending to officers' more intimate needs? Then she shrugged, happily successful in keeping the grimace from showing on her face.
"Aye, I does more'n sewin'. What sorta services you needin', then?"
It was a needless question, as she knew exactly what he wanted. Providing such services did not trouble her, so long as she was paid for it, but for an officer... best not to make a habit of that. The men might get to thinking she was too good for them and take their money elsewhere.
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Post by Chørd on Mar 18, 2012 18:27:37 GMT -5
`Matthew Matthew blinked at her question, unsure whether or not she was merely entirely stupid, or just drawing everything out to irritate and mock him. Did she need him to spell it, for Christ's sake?
He didn't want to have to put it bluntly exactly what he wanted, especially in front of the other women, 'lest he came across as desperate - which he most certainly was sure he was not.
"Domestic ones. Of a sort," he answered her eventually. Hopefully, unless she really was a simpleton, that would be good enough to let her know what he wanted, or confirm her assumptions of it.
Why he was even bothering her he had no idea. He didn't even like her. She irritated him, and wasn't exactly attractive in comparison to some other girls. That, and she belonged amongst the men, under their blankets. He could easily find a girl far more worth his money in a house somewhere, no doubt. Not that he had the money to freely dote on any passing woman he fancied - his brother kept a tab on everything he spent, and would write home complaining if he felt he was becoming too reckless with his pennies, or spending them on "frivolities", as his father had called them.
All that taken into account, he supposed a tuppenny ha'penny whore would have to do for now. He was too tired to try and find another girl who wasn't already busy warming some other man's bed, and he couldn't afford anything better without asking his sibling for funds towards it. That was, of course, providing she didn't charge ridiculously either.
"How much is your normal fee for that line of work?"
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Post by Bog on Mar 20, 2012 17:30:08 GMT -5
Was this poor child simple of mind? He must be. "I means, iz you 'ticular 'bout 'ow long you gets or anyfin'," said Hannah, with just a trace of annoyance in her tone. Certainly any other fellow would have known her meaning without needing clarification.
"Penny if it's a quick roll, t'pence fer longer." Her typical charge was reasonable enough, being as it was arranged to accommodate the thinner purses of the private men. For an officer, she could probably ask for a bit more, but that required doing the equations in her head and that was simply out of the question right then.
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Post by Chørd on Mar 21, 2012 5:46:22 GMT -5
`Matthew He could feel an embarassed blush heat up his cheeks at her irritated tone. He wasn't used to army whores or their ways of dealing with their business. He was used to the bawdyhouse whores and how they conducted things. Charging you for the night or by the hour - either or. He couldn't remember straight since most times he'd visited them in England he'd been amongst friends, and all of them were always more or less three sheets to the wind.
"As long as I need and want," he snapped back at her indignantly, trying, to no avail, to assume the proper authoritative tone of an officer. Would it not just be easier, at least on her side of the deal, to just charge him after the act or assume he'd be paying by the hour? Silly girl.
Still, he just about managed to hide his relief when she stated her prices. They were certainly on the lower end of the spectrum - the sort of prices the streetwalkers in London charged. He felt slightly digusted with himself that he was resorting to this sort of company which, in all honesty, wasn't much different to the cheap molls back home. Different scenery, different characters, that was all.
"Tuppence it'll be for now, then," he said, unsure what, exactly, qualified as longer. As he'd stated before, he'd take as long as he cared to. If he ended up spending the entire night with her, then so be it. That would be what he'd pay for. Considering she was as good as giving herself away for free, he was sure no matter what happened he still wouldn't end up paying the full guinea the harlots and higher-class whores back home charged.
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Post by Bog on Mar 23, 2012 6:17:34 GMT -5
It was going to be like that, was it? 'As long as I need and want'. That would likely mean she would lose the entire night to this jumped-up swell. And only for tuppence at that. Hannah sighed and dipped her needle back into the wool coat sleeve, relieved at least that this was nearly finished.
"Arrigh' then. Gonna wanttit straight off, or iz you wantin' to powder yer mug first?"
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Post by Chørd on Mar 24, 2012 17:35:24 GMT -5
`Matthew She was a spirited doxie, wasn't she? He wasn't quite sure whether to smirk or shake his head disapprovingly at her sniffing and sighing and blunt comments in response to anything he said or did. If she'd been a few years younger he'd have put it down to it being the typical adolescent arrogance that most youngsters had when faced with their superiors. But, as it was, she wasn't an adolescent as such, so perhaps she just had a problem with officers, or other persons of authority. Or maybe she just didn't like him.
"Straight away," Matthew shrugged, answering her question. At least the work on his coat was nearly finished, so he could put that back on for the time being and make an attempt at keeping warm. He was beginning to think that abandoning his tea and fire in favour of taking a walk had not been such a good idea. Sure, he'd found himself a girl for the evening, independent of Bennet's efforts, though she wasn't the sort to drink wine and make idle smalltalk with as far as he could tell. In fact he doubted she'd talk at all, aside from making odd contemptuous comments. Still, what else could be expected of peasantry?
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Post by Bog on Mar 29, 2012 9:47:07 GMT -5
Despite herself, Hannah smirked. His breeches must be uncomfortably tight right now. Clearly he wasn't too miserly to relieve such tensions on his own, but that didn't mean much. For all she knew he was being put up to this by that other officer. Not that this mattered.
"Arrigh', cully," she said presently, tying off the thread close to the new repair and giving that thread a quick snip with her scissors. With this done, she held out the coat to him.
"Where's yer nunnery at, then?"
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Post by Chørd on Mar 30, 2012 11:13:31 GMT -5
`Matthew He raised an eyebrow when he caught her smirking, and wondered what, exactly, it was she found funny. Was it something he'd said? He wrinkled his nose and busied himself with preening his waistcoat and shirt. She was probably amused at the fact he had come to her for her services instead of someone better suited to tending to officers' needs. He pulled a face at the thought. He wasn't desperate, merely going with whatever was the most convenient for him at the time, but no doubt he'd probably presented himself that way.
Matthew took his coat gratefully as it was held out to him. He pulled it on, fingering the fabric where it had been repaired and nodding in thanks to the girl, smiling. She'd done a good enough job. The prior damage would be unnoticeable from a distance.
With a barrier back between the cold and himself he gave a small shiver, beginning to drift into a daydream until she spoke again and shattered his thoughts.
"This way," he answered after hesitating momentarily, then turned, expecting her to get up and follow him. He checked himself before he walked away, turning back to her briefly. "Before I forget..." he muttered half to himself, frowning as he dug into his waiscoat pocket for her fee. Finding it, he produced two tuppence coins, which he held out for her to take.
"Payment for this," he explained, plucking at his coat, "and later."
Fortunately the shilling he'd brought would not be needed after all.
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Post by Bog on Apr 22, 2012 16:30:44 GMT -5
That was simple enough, all things considered. Though it hardly mattered either way to her. With an indifferent shrug, she stood up and dusted off her skirts. The older women were regarding her with expressions varying from relief to disgust. She ignored them.
"Ever so 'bliged," Hannah drawled, accepting the money with a quick mock-curtsy. She stuffed the coins into her apron pocket before swiftly rolling up her hussif. He was certainly an eager boy.
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