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Page 95
Her worst fears were confirmed when Thorn interrupted her thoughts. "You, Miss Walker, are to skin and clean this rabbit."
He was testing her again. She knew it.
And this time she would fail. Well, she'd never planned on being a servant. Let him fire her. "I don't know how." She let her tone show that she didn't want to learn.
"All right." He placed the rabbit on the table. She watched warily as he went to a cabinet and pulled out a sharp knife, which he began stropping on a large stone beside the fireplace. He returned to the rabbit, placing the knife blade against its soft, brown fur.
Mariah turned away.
"Oh, no, Miss Walker." His voice was stern. "For now, you may watch. Next time"
She ran from the kitchen.

Mariah only dared to return to the kitchen after Thorn had brought what was clearly meat from the poor rabbit to the smokehouse. Then, she hurried back to be instructed in her next chores by René. Nothing could be worse than skinning a rabbit.
But she'd not imagined how hard washing clothes might be.
"Je suis heureuxI am happy," the Frenchman told her, "that I made plenty of soap the last time. If we had to do that, too, the chore would take several days instead of one afternoon."
As it was, Mariah had to haul water to the largest kettle, get it boiling, then carry the hot container outside, using rags on the handle, to dump the contents into a large washtub right in the center of the half-fenced compound. Her shoulders still ached from carrying water from the stream.
When the tub was full, she knelt in front of it as René had shown her, arranging her long skirt about her legs. She couldn't help thinking of the last film for which she'd been a unit production manager for Angela: a romantic comedy that had involved a couple who had met at a laundromat.

 
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