In her time, a woman is property. She ceases to exist when she takes her husband's name. That so many women around her keep going despite this doesn't matter, that when you get down with the Kellys in the underclass the reality is frequently more nuanced with men so often gone, gone, gone: the law is the law, assumptions are assumptions. Prejudices are prejudices. Women are fragile, should be the angel of the hearth, no matter the hard reality.

Still, when and if his assumptions of her birth come out, she'll laugh. Think him a dear, dear man, but laugh.

The Kellys are common as dirt, and take a certain pride in it.

Common enough to know sexual desire early, to acknowledge it, which is also why Kate has the knowledge of what a man's gaze can mean settled over her skin. Can mean.

But she's attracted to him. She knows that, too. That he seems to not be aware of it merely helps. Makes it seem safer.

"Boil and dry," Kate repeats. "I'll remember."