1 July, evening; a bit of mending

Polly frowned, holding the hem of her apron up for scrutiny. She had finally had the chance to wash some of the accumulated filth off of it, but it was in dire need of repair. Hopefully she had enough spare scraps of fabric to patch the larger holes. The smaller ones she would leave alone for now. With all of the marching and carrying and work, there was really only so much she could do.

"Polly! There you are, my little dear," Jenny said, striding toward the little figure by the fire. "What's that you're working on?"

"Jenny!"

Polly jumped up to greet her friend, smiling widely. It was always nice to see Jenny. She smoothed her skirts a little self-consciously, and held up the apron in her hands.

"M'apron 's ripped. I were jist mendin' it," she said.

She gave it a quick glance. "And very nice work you're doing, too. Polly, how would you like to be my maid?"

"Yer maid?" Polly asked, eyes wide. Surprised, she nearly dropped her apron and fumbled to catch it. "I - I would... tha' is... d'ye think I could?"

Jenny shrugged. "You might as well try, since Woodmarsh is paying for it. And it's only me."

"Iff'n ye're sure..." Polly said, and then a large grin spread over her face. She was going to be an actual maid. And for Jenny. Things were looking better all the time.

"Thank ye! Thank ye ver' much! What d'ye me t' do?"

Jenny laughed lightly at her eagerness. "Well for the moment, just pack up your things and bring them to the Guards' camp. I'll walk with you if it won't take you long."

"O' course!" Polly said. "Won' tak' but a minute an' all."

She hastily folded up her apron - its mending could certainly wait now - and tucked it into her basket. The one good thing to a life on the move, she supposed, was that most of her few possessions were already packed. In fairly short order, things were packed away.

Casting a quick glance about to be sure she had not dropped anything, Polly nodded. It would be something of a relief to again be with someone she knew.

"Alrigh'," she said, turning to Jenny. "'M ready."

"Come along then, little one," Jenny said, leading the way. "I reside with Lieutenant Woodmarsh of the 2nd Foot Guards. Do you know him?"

"I don' think so," Polly said, hurrying to keep up with Jenny. She thought for a moment. There were so many officers... Still, there was an important question: "'s 'e nice t' ye?"

"Yes, he is very nice to me," Jenny answered soberly. "He's letting me have a maid! But I don't want you to become too familiar with him. Or rather, him with you. Do you understand?"

Polly felt a flush creep up her cheeks. She certainly understood what that meant.

"O' course," she said. Well, she would do her best to avoid Jenny's officer when she could. That seemed best.

Jenny pretended not to notice her blushing. "Good girl. That's for your benefit, not mine or his. All this soldiering, and he's perhaps forgotten how to treat young girls a way that's proper." There. That should have gotten the point across.

"Do you remember Michael Christian? From when we were with the French?"

That name was at least familiar, and Polly smiled again. Christian had certainly seemed very kind.

"Aye," she said. "'s 'is 'ead better now? 'E took a knock on it, iff'n I remember rightly."

Jenny smiled. "That's right. Yes, he's better. In fact, he's been giving a few knocks on heads himself today, some impish young drummers. He's the lieutenant's batman, so you and he will be seeing a lot of each other. He and I will help you learn the ropes. Because I was a maid once too, you know."

Polly giggled slightly at the image of Christian knocking drummers about. She had seen a few lads running around causing trouble, and they were certainly deserving of it.

"Were ye really?" Polly asked. She had trouble picturing Jenny as a maid. But then, she had trouble picturing herself as one, either. "Thank ye again."

"All right, little one, that's enough thanking. It's this way. That's our tent. See the big L-shaped patch on the side? That's how you can tell. Now I don't think - no, the lieutenant isn't inside, so we can go in. Just leave your things out here." Jenny pulled the tent flap aside and waited for Polly.

"Oh, alrigh'," Polly said, hurrying into the tent.

L-shaped, l-shaped. She could remember that. She put her basket and things where Jenny indicated, and glanced around the tent. Officers certainly had nice things.

"So, I'm not allowed in 'ere iff'n th' lieutenan' is 'ere?" she asked tentatively. "Where d' I go then?"

That was a good question. Jenny thought for a moment and then simply shrugged. "If the lieutenant's in the tent, you can just sit by the fire or go elsewhere and do whatever else you need to do. Your mending and sewing and things. Or you can help Christian. Do you take in sewing for money?"

Well, that made sense.

Polly nodded. "Aye, I do. Always lads as need mendin'." She hesitated. "D'ye think I shouldn' anymore? Iff'n I'm yer maid?"

"No no, you carry on just as you have done." There would be little enough for her to do looking after Jenny and her meager wardrobe. "Just, maybe don't mention it to the lieutenant. Though he probably won't notice or care. If he asks, you can say it's for me, or that you're helping Christian." She smiled reassuringly. "It's good to keep busy and make a little extra money."

Woodmarsh was heading back to his tent when he heard the sound of voices from within. Female voices. That made him grin and quicken his pace, making sure to adjust his uniform slightly before flinging aside the flap and strolling grandly into the tent.

Jenny he had been expecting of course, but the young lady beside him was one he did not know. A camp follower, by the looks of her, though that never really deterred him. She did seem to be quite young indeed, though that never really deterred him either. Still, he wondered just why she was there.

"Jenny dear, you did not tell me we were expecting company," he said, flashing the young woman a smile, "And just who might you be, miss?"

Jenny frowned slightly at the lieutenant's entrance. She spoke to him, curtly, before Polly had a chance. "Woodmarsh, this is Polly who I've just engaged to be my maid."

Polly blushed fiercely, taken off-guard at the sudden attention. She didn't know how to interact with officers! Generally, the gentlemen paid folk like herself no heed at all.

Uncertainly, she bobbed a quick curtsey, eyes firmly on the ground. She wondered how much time Christian spent trying to keep the lieutenant's boots that clean while they were on the march, and was acutely aware of her own oft-patched clothes.

"Sir," she said quietly, hoping that was polite enough.