By Court and Cargo.

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At least she'd not forgotten his name, unless the triple repetition was to commit it further to memory. Still with the chicken impression he did manage to raise a brow of confusion.

"Figured ya'd have servants for that.. Ya' wash'em all the time or you always look like a wrecked raft at low tide?" While not a malicious observation it's how she seemed to him.
 
She frowned, her eyes settling into their hard stare again. Her mouth opened to answer, but at that moment, Molly's voice rose shrilly from the back.

"By heavens, Lazarus could waddle from his tomb faster than this. What's taking ye so long, vixen? You'd best not be seducin' my Cobiah out there!" Moments later, Molly emerged from the back room, hands on her hips and eyes a-blazing at the scene before her. Adella clamped her lips shut, straightened her back, and glared right back at her. As always, Molly's mind picked up on the subtlest of expressions and exaggerated them into her fanciful stories. Jabbing a finger at Cobiah, she admonished, "Coby, I better not be findin' out that you got mixed up with this lady a'fore this. It'd break your poor mum's heart it would!" The finger of death turned on Adella. "Now, Addy, we agreed no gentleman callers. I catch one whiff of you spreading your wiles about my customers, and I'll kick you out I will! You keep your hands off'a my boy, take the dress, and get back to work. We don't quit until sundown." With that, Molly marched right on back.

Adella was too tired to protest, too tired to be angry, too tired to think. By this point, she wouldn't be surprised if she broke down crying from exhaustion. Fye, how embarrassing that would be! Refusing to break, she reached out a hand for the dress.
 
Cobiah didn't even manage to get in much of a hello to Molly, a weak wave as he fought off a grin like a child watching his friend get in trouble while he stood innocent. When all was said and done he let out a slow whistle of ease.

"Gentleman callers?" A teasing tone. "Never would'a guessed ya to be the type." All of it in good nature, as was his norm.

At least until she reached for the dress, his hand caught her wrist like a slack line in a northern gale. Frown creasing his face before his palm opened to let her withdraw. "What've you gotten yourself into..?" Now he was curious.
 
"Fye!" she muttered, knowing she'd been caught and there really was no getting out of anything now. Removing her hand gingerly from his grip, she curled her fingers around the rough cloth of the dress without even a wince and pulled it to her chest. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair, that Cobiah kept showing up. She couldn't get away from him. And if he was going to keep butting into her life, she'd rather him have the full details than scarfing up Molly's hogwash.

Speaking of the devil, the washerwoman's shrill voice beckoned her.

"Come back at sunset. I'll answer your questions then." With a quick bob, Adella fled into the steamy refuge of the back room.
 
His brows knitted together in a curious fashion, likening his rough hewn face to an ape of more exotic locations. Sunset didn't sound bad. "Aye. I'll be 'ere." Not that he was often late.

At least the dress had been dropped off like his mother had asked. A glance skyward told him he had a few hours to burn before their little rendezvous.

With nothing better to do than return to the docks and check up on things he did just that. Of course nothing needed doing that hadn't been sorted the day before or by an underling. To whittle the time he pulled his most recent manifest from the shelf and poured over it. An excuse to leave the gray city behind for some weeks would do him well.
 
How she was able to survive the last few hours of the workday, Adella couldn't say. Determination kept her going. Time passed slowly. Time passed quickly. In a daze she wandered about from task to task until it grew too dark and her eyes were too crossed with fatigue to see the shirt she was folding. Molly, bless her heart, took pity on the poor girl and shooed her away.

"You've put in a good day's work today," the older woman praised. "I'll tell ye, it's a pleasure to have company all the day long even if the company's hands are clumsy. Now, you best get home and rest yourself. Don't want you wearing yourself out too much. You come when you're good and ready tomorrow, but mind that you come!"

And so, Adella left Molly to finish the work for the day and nipped outside to take down Cobiah's dress from the line. It was still a bit damp in places, but she did not want the brute having any excuse to bother her on the 'morrow. Draping it over her arms, she held it tightly to her chest and stumbled out to the front of the shop, training her eyes for the bulky mass of Cobiah in the growing shadows.
 
A loud rap at his door brought the man out of the bored doze he'd fallen into. Like a bolt of lightning he was at the door. One of the workers simply handing in the days labor lists for him to mull over or pass off until tomorrow. Tomorrow sounded like it'd do just fine for that. Past the man he could see the day was dwindling into darkness. No set time meant he was in no rush as he latched the door behind himself and made off for the city's interior.

The lamp lighter was early tonight it seemed, casting the still lit streets in a half gloom. A slight improvement over the later hours when it was far past dark when they were shown.

Not much later his eyes caught the girl from before, no worse for the wear from before it appeared. "Mum was gonna grab the dress tomorrow ya' know. Wasn't no rush. Did a fine job though." It was casual in tone, but the curious questions from before were still eager to be asked.
 
"As if I'd give you or any person related to you an excuse to bother me tomorrow," Adella countered with an unladylike snort, a habit she'd quickly picked up from Molly. Though exhaustion settled heavily in her bones, there was nothing like a small-scale battle of words with an insufferable man to stir her coals a little. She pressed the dress firmly against Cobiah's chest for him to take and dropped it as soon as she could convince her stiff and blistered fingers to let go of the fabric.

"Which way are we going?"
 
The dress was held gingerly at first until he saw the determination to let it go burning in her eyes. That trait might have been endearing had he not met her at the courthouse a while before. Quite the opposite, it was annoying.

"Ya' hungry then? Ain't no feasts or banquets down here. But it don't take a fool to gauge a woman for hungry." The dress slowly being folded as he spoke until it was a small as a parcel. It wasn't meant to show up the girl, but he felt it likely did under Molly's scrutiny.
 
"Meals are the least of my concerns." She watched his large hands fold the cloth, surprised at how simple he made it look. All afternoon she'd been folding and refolding messes until Molly finally shooed her away and took over for the rest of the day. "How do you make that look so easy?" The words slipped out before she could catch them.
 
There goes his plan of filling his empty belly. As well as earning a bit of favor to feed his curiosity. She was an enigma for now, he didn't like not knowing, though often ignorance was a powerful tool.

"Once you've folded one sail you've folded everything." Came via a chipper reply. Holding the dress and letting it unfurl back to life. Once more beginning to fold it with a lazy and purposeful slowness to let her see.

When he was done he unfurled it and handed it back with a less and honest grin. "You try." He commanded with a puffed out chest.
 
Willing herself the pleasure of observing and taking notes, Adella leaned over to watch his hands work. It looked fairly simple. Too simple. When he handed the dress back to her, she bit her lip and accepted it. His over-stuffed ego annoyed her, but she was determined not to be shone up by him if she could help it. Her hands protested against the motions, but she pressed on. 'Let's see, he had started with a fold like this, and then did something like that...' a blister caught on the rough cloth and tore away some skin.

"Fye!" she cried, dropping the garment and holding the oozing sore to her mouth.
 
He looked quite pleased when she'd begun to fold it. A fast learner that was for sure. When the blister broke he could almost swear to hearing it. Snatching the dress before it fell to the cobblestone streets. "Need to keep that clean now." He'd not admit to wanting to retch a bit in memory of sticking a blister on his mouth and getting too much of the white fluid on his tongue.
 
Adella pulled her hand away and looked between the oozing sore and Cobiah. Oh, how she hated being so helpless and admitting it to the sailor, but if there was any chance for her hands to heal she needed the advice of one in a lower class than herself. Dropping her gaze to rest solely on her hand, she asked humbly, "What does one do for blisters?"
 
A hand reached for his back pocket and produced a rag, possibly white somewhere in its prior lifetime. He stood firmly by it being clean as he tore a strip befitting her dainty hands off in a line. "Wrap'em. Don't break them. You think clothes hurt. Imagine a boats ropes."

Without stopping to give her the chance to protest he did just as he'd instructed. Wrapping the blistered palms and fingers with the cloth. Cobiah pitied the girl. Like a fish out of water.
 
When he mentioned ropes, Adella blanched. "I'd rather not, thank you," she said thickly, eying the soiled rag with displeasure. Unable to remove her hand from his grip, she suffered him to wrap one blistered hand and then the other. She was quickly losing reasons to find this man incorrigible. Insufferable, yes, he still was that, but Adella could stand an insufferable old soul every once in a while.

After reclaiming her hands, she examined the bandages and sighed. "I suppose you're ready to ask me all manners of questions. Where is a private place to talk?"
 
A brief look at his handiwork had him smile, obviously not the first blisters he'd had to deal with. Hers were minuscule at best. Somehow he figured they'd not be the last either. Not to mention the callouses that's quickly grow from them.

"Didn't think it needed a private place to chatter." An airy laugh left him as he spoke. All he was wondering is why she was set loose. Maybe a bit of juicy gossip was all he was expecting.
 
She gave him a sharp look. "It's private. Now, unless you want me wilting on you, I suggest you point us in a direction where I can sit and you can listen."
 
Taken aback by her sudden outburst he tucked the folded dress under his arm and gave a swift nod. No nonsense or witty remarks were going to happen this time he felt. Somehow becoming vaguely aware of the nightly fog that oft crept in from the Thames. "C'mon then. The Dog oughta be slow 'nuff for your likin'."

And so he went, cutting through an alley or two to the familiar tavern where he'd garnered breakfast. No food was ordered this time as he took her to a booth as distant as he could manage. The only other attendant nearby an old man with his face down upon the table. A dim atmosphere somehow owed to the dour mood of the city as of late.
 
Adella followed Cobiah close upon his heels, not wanting to lose sight of him as he made his way down the darkening streets of London. She step was weary but steady. It wasn't until the sailor stopped before the tavern she had taken refuge in that morning that she realized that "The Dog" referred to the one place she didn't really want to go. A tavern? Private? She frowned but did not raise any objections and entered behind him.

Well, surprise, surprise, taverns could be empty. Adella hiked up her skirts and stepped gingerly around the few occupied tables, scooting into the booth Cobiah chose opposite the bulky man. It tickled her that her feet barely reached the floor. She had to point her toes down to touch. Remarkable. Folding her bandaged hands, she placed them on the table before her and sat up straighter, a touch of her old "prim and proper" entering her manners.

"Perhaps we should order at least a drink," she advised, "so as to appear less conspicuous? This is a tavern after all."
 
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