The Lady's Dance. Last Dignity

"Are you-" 

"Are you one of mine?" 

We looked at each other, not fully comprehending her words. 

It was already way too late during the day and the damn sun still refused to peek. She got there right when sweet Lady Ashleigh's last frisson of brown dignity slicked out of her shivering hips. And although this one was a used woman who had saw much things in her soiled past, we were each sure the sight still made a measurable impression upon her. Much more than the raw winds that ravished us all, how the winds, in its infinite wickedness, made the white ankles of sweet Lady Ashleigh dance.

I was standing beside her, I tell you, so I smelled all of her through the raw wind, ...through those sheets. She smelled like she was marinated in cheap brandy, every thin breath was a puff that you'd believe she was a sauced eel inside and out. She was burning too, sweating feverish beads and bullets even in that wind. Which made her fever-in' like a candle. Burning with all the sickness and fear it was like the lass lit herself on fire until it's up to us to choke it out, see? Still, pure fire, that one. And under her dress, mate? This the wind told us too, chamber pot, and perfume dabbled here and there. 

She saw young Daniel first when he came to her. Young Daniel, mind you, still yet have the face of a boy and it must be he who she was referring when she first asked "Are you one of mine?" Her drunk hand, with nails painted red, like those worn by the Ladyships reached out to him and ruffled his clothing. Then she saw Tom, and her drunk, hot hands also ruffled his. Then she saw me, and she too toyed with mine. It was so hot I tell you, it felt like the flat side of a sauce pan. The way she looked after us, ruffled us, it was like her long fingers were possessed by a mother's. It was like she was...looking for.....so sons. Though we all knew that she didn't have any babes to call her own- ...those that are officially hers that is... Being a used woman like her and all that.

It was Young Daniel who surprised us, when he  replied to her, "I am here." And although we all knew he was not hers, she stopped her frantic searches. Then looked at him, then, us with much warmer eyes.

"Alright," she cooed demurely, as if we were all her sons.

To Be Continued