Shay.

The pain, from where Shay hugged her knees to her chest, encouraged her to remain hidden in the cart, her breath held, so no noise could slip from her lips. The sound of men's voices drifted through the wind-tossed, torn curtains, and cracks of the rotting timber planks that she sat on. The hawker was talking about her, his gravelly tone easy to recognise. The other voices were quieter so it was harder for her to catch what they were saying.

The hawker spoke again, "Yeah. I've got a gyrl. She's in the cart. I'll do some business with you if you've got the money."

Shay couldn't understand how she was involved in business because in the week she had been with the hawker, he had always made her stay out of sight and sold his wares without her help.

A loud thump on the side of the wagon made her jump.

"Gyrl!"

Fear held Shay in her hiding place. He would beat her for disobeying but, her body would not move.

"Gyrl! Here I say! Now!"

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

The hawker banged his fist with more force. "Get here now, before I come in there and drag you out by the scruff of your neck!"

Shay sucked in a breath and wiped her face with the thin material of her blouse as she got to her feet. She climbed from the cart and drew her shawl around her shoulders.

The hawker grabbed her arm and yanked her towards the men. He clutched a clump of her hair and pulled her head back so they could see her face. "What do you think?" He sneered down at her and then jerked his chin at the two men standing in front of him. "Pretty, ain't she?"

"Oh, yeah. How much you say for a turn?"

"A sixpence each." The hawker snorted making the hair in his nostrils flare. "And I watch."

Shay struggled to get out of his hold. She didn't understand the reason but an intense fear burned within her. Instinctively she knew she had to fight. She bit the hawker's arm to make him release her.

"Ah...ya dirty dove!" he yelled as he backhanded her, and then grabbed at his shirt to see if she'd drawn blood.

Landing on the ground, dazed, Shay tried to get on her feet but stumbled.

The hawker released his sleeve and nudged his head at the men saying, "I'm letting you have her cheap. She ain't a flower seller yet, but I plans her to be, sews I wanna watch." He laughed as he took hold of her again and made her stand, her shawl left to lie in the dirt. "To make sure you is teaching her right. You hearing me?"

Shay tried again to pull from the hawker's grasp but one of the men seized her upper arm.  He ran his eyes over her tiny build and added, "We'll teach her good. Have her beggin', sir."

"No...!" Shay lashed out at him with her hands.

He laughed, dodged her attempts to hit him, and then took hold of her wrists while the other man grabbed her from behind.

"No..!" she screamed again and tried to pull free. Hot tears streamed down Shay's face. She didn't understand what was happening, or what she'd done that was so wrong, to have these two men attack her. She managed to get one hand free and clawed at the man's neck. He gave her a shake and then struck her across the face.

Shay's strength left her. Every muscle stopped moving and her vision blurred as she felt her body droop.

When she returned to awareness, they had her pressed against one of the large boulders that stood nearby. Shay dragged in air to gather some strength and pushed up with her hands.

"Bloody wench. She's got some fight in her this one." The man cursed and then jumped over the rock. He grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her forward once more.

Her skirt tore as she kicked out with her feet. "No...!" Shay screamed and bucked as she struggled to break free.

"It's alright, lovely. You hold still now, so we can have our fun. There's a good little hedge creeper."

Sobs heaved from her chest. She closed her eyes tight with fear, not understanding what was about to happen to her.

A loud crack made her flick her eyes open. The man holding her hips screamed. Shay fell to the ground, sucked in a breath of air and turned to see horse's hooves. She scurried backwards, wrapped her torn skirt around her legs, and then sheltered her body with her arms as she huddled against the rock. Tears streamed down her face. She tried to concentrate on what was happening. The man on the horse was angry. The hawker was trying to pacify him, asking him if he wanted to be her first. The horseman laughed. Shay, trembling with fear, tried to block out their voices by covering her ears. She gasped for more air as she was suddenly jerked to her feet.

The rider had dismounted. It was only when he held her by the top of her arms and gave her a little shake that she realised he was talking to her. Shay tried to focus but all she heard was a rumble of thunderous words. He forced her head up and brushed the hair from her face. Shay kept her eyes on the ground.

"Look at me."

When she didn't, he forced both of her arms above her head. She tried to fight him so she could cover her body. He pulled her arms higher to make her stand straight.

"If you look at me, I'll let you cover yourself," he murmured.

Shay gulped back her fear and lifted her eyes to meet his. A well of tears spilt over her lashes and ran down her cheeks. This man wasn't old like the hawker but he wasn't young either. He was medium height with a mass of honey-brown waves and kind blue eyes. He looked tired. Stubble grew on his face. Though his clothes were crumpled they were clean and expensive. Shay could tell he was a man of wealth. She looked at the ground and tried to pull her hands free.

He spun her around, and then pushed her hair away from her back saying, "Where did you say you bought her?" A sound, like a badger growling, reverberated in the back of his throat before he let her go and faced the hawker. "Why has she been beaten?"

Shay covered her body with her arms. She peered over her shoulder at him. Her mind was a boggle and she only managed to pick up a word or two of what was being said.

The hawker took a step back as the man moved toward him like a cat on the prowl. "I asked you a question." He threw money at the hawker, bent, picked up Shay's wrap, and then mounted his stallion. Tossing the shawl down to her he commanded, "Cover yourself." Under the man's control, the horse spun and moved skittishly backwards and forwards. He held his hand out to her and said, "Come."

"No!" The hawker stepped forward. "She's mine."

"Not anymore." The man snarled and then beckoned Shay with his fingers. "Come."

Terms used in this chapter that you may not understand.

Gyrl – girl. This spelling was used well before the 1800s.  I've used it to emphasise the accent.

Soiled Dove – whore. I have chosen to change it and use, Dirty Dove.

Flower-seller -term used in the 1700s.  Flower-seller was another word for prostitute; hence why, back in this era, being a flower seller was a disreputable profession. Eliza Doolittle from the play Pygmalion, herself a flower-seller, is very insistent of her virtue saying, "I'm a good girl I am!"  I decided to use it here as this scene is based in the early 1800s, around 1824, so I figure the term would still have been used by some older people, such as the hawker.                            

(this partially taken from Google.)

Hedge creeper – a prostitute who works in the countryside.

Poor Shay.  It looks like she's been saved.  At least I hope she has.

Photo Copyright. Monika Luniak