“And you want to look like a smelly man for the rest of your life?” Sable countered. Then, she shook her head firmly. “Nay, you shall not. Now, remove the remainder of your clothing and get into that tub or I shall have to do it for you. I may appear small and weak, but I can give you a fight if that is what you are looking for. I will clean this dirt off of you or die trying.”
It seemed like a rather passionate declaration simply for a bath, but Rhoswyn believed her. These English women had different ways when it came to dress and cleanliness, or so she’d heard, and she had no doubt that Lady Sable saw Rhoswyn as a great challenge. The woman probably wouldn’t hesitate to club her and drag her into the water. Because she didn’t want to be clubbed, and she didn’t want to fight against a woman who had only been helpful since the moment they met, Rhoswyn begrudgingly removed her leather breeches, her tunic, and then jumped into the water, splashing it over the sides.
Fighting off a grin, Sable went to work. The first thing she did was take the two bone combs she’d set out and began to comb through Rhoswyn’s considerable mane, which was matted and dirty. It was a shame, too, because it was such a lovely color, and the texture was thick. As Sable combed, Rhoswyn grunted in pain until Sable stopped and handed the woman a lumpy bar of white soap with flecks of lavender buds in it.
“Here,” she said. “Begin washing yourself while I work on your hair.”
She resumed combing and Rhoswyn resumed grunting but, in between groans of pain, Rhoswyn lifted the soap to her nostrils and inhaled the lovely lavender fragrance. She rubbed the bar between her hands in the water and it turned into cream against her flesh. It also washed away the dirt; she could see it. After that, she began to rub the bar with vigor against her skin, washing off the years of accumulated dirt. But every so often, a tug on her head would bring a yelp from her lips.
“Och!” she said as Sable combed out a particularly bad knot. “Ye’ll pull the hair right from me head!”
Sable didn’t ease up. She continued to use the big comb to detangle and the finer comb to smooth through the hair.
“I am sorry,” she said, although she wasn’t. “Your hair is very matted.”
Rhoswyn was rubbing the bar up and down her arm. “It gets that way.”
“You should comb it every day so it does not get that way.”
“I dunna have a comb.”
Sable tugged on a big mat, causing Rhoswyn to flinch. “That will change.”
Rhoswyn’s head jerked back as Sable broke through the tangle. “I have a feelin’ much will change now.”
There wasn’t any self-pity in her words, simply a statement of fact, but it made Sable think. Rhoswyn seemed to come from a very different world than she knew. She was curious about it, and about her.
“Tell me of your life at Sibbald’s,” she said, genuinely interested. “Do you have brothers? Sisters?”
Rhoswyn shook her head as she scrubbed the grime on her left wrist. “Nay,” she said. “Just me pa. Me ma died when I was young, and I never had any brothers or sisters.”
Sable finished with the last of the big mats. “I have two sisters,” she said. “Douglass and Lizbeth.”
“Are they married, too?”
“Douglass is,” she said. “She married a great knight. My husband’s uncle, in fact. But Lizbeth is younger than I am and not yet pledged.”
“Pledged,” Rhoswyn muttered. “That was somethin’ me pa never spoke much of.”
“Why not?”
Rhoswyn rinsed her arm off in the water. “Who would marry me?” she asked flatly. “I can fight better than most men. No one wants a wife who can best him.”
Finished pulling out the tangles, Sable began to comb the hair out with the fine-toothed comb. “Have you always known how to fight?” she asked. “I must say, I have never heard of a woman being trained for such things, but it would be a useful skill to have, I suppose.”
Rhoswyn assumed she was only being kind about it. More and more, she was coming to realize that her father had not raised her as he should have. “Useful tae a man,” she clarified. “But it seems that the English are less impressed with my skills. I canna use a sword tae cook a meal or stuff a mattress.”
Sable set the comb down and reached for a big wooden vessel on the ground. “That is true, but if we were to be attacked right now, you would know what to do, wouldn’t you?”
Rhoswyn started to reply but Sable took the big wooden vessel, filled it with water, and poured it over Rhoswyn’s head. Rhoswyn shrieked when water poured into her mouth, sputtering as Sable poured several loads of water over her head to thoroughly wet her hair. After that, the conversation died as Sable began to scrub Rhoswyn within an inch of her life.
She took the soap Rhoswyn had been using on her body and rubbed it all over her hair, digging her fingers into the scalp and scrubbing. Rhoswyn ended up having to hold on to the edges of the tub because she was being buffeted around so, enduring the scrubbing and scraping and then more rinsing, followed by another rinse through her hair with something that smelled like vinegar.
It was an experience Rhoswyn would never forget, but it was also an experienced she ended up rather enjoying. It was lovely soaking in hot water and having someone scratch her scalp. She had no idea what she’d been missing and when it came time to get out, she did so reluctantly. The water was cooling, but the room was cooler, and she quickly wrapped up in Sable’s amazing drying cloth, sitting on a small stool in front of the fire as Sable went to work combing out her wet hair.
“And how was your bath, my lady?” Sable asked, grinning at Rhoswyn’s relaxed posture. “Did you enjoy it?”
Rhoswyn sighed, warm and clean and feeling wonderful. “I would do it again, very soon,” she said. “I must ask me husband if he will allow me tae purchase soap.”
Sable combed out the long, wet tresses. “Do you not have any?”
Rhoswyn yawned. “I’m sure ye guessed that I dunna,” she said, turning somewhat to look at Sable. “I have nothin’, m’lady, except the clothin’ ye saw me wearin’. I dunna own a comb and I dunna have any of the wonderful things that ye have. It’s not that me pa denied me; I suppose I dinna know tae ask for them.”
Sable had suspected as much. “Well,” she said briskly, “I shall speak with Troy. There must be a nearby village where you can purchase some things that you will need, as the lady of the house. And I will help you sew dresses, if you will allow.”
Rhoswyn shrugged. “I dunna know how tae sew,” she said. Then, she sobered somewhat. Showing gratitude was difficult for her. “Ye… ye’ve been very kind tae me, Lady Sable. I never knew any English until a few days ago, and the English I’ve met have been very kind.”
Sable grinned. “Did you expect otherwise?”
Rhoswyn couldn’t see the woman, as she was facing away from her, but she could hear the humor in her voice. Having never had a friend, it was easy for her to let her guard down with Sable’s kindness. It was rather nice having another lady to talk to.
“All I’ve ever seen of the English are their men,” she said. “I’ve never been this close to an English woman before, so I dunna know what tae expect.”
Sable continued combing and Rhoswyn’s hair was starting to dry by the warmth of the fire, the lovely gold and red shades becoming evident.
“I have known plenty of Scots women,” she said. “Troy’s mother is Scots, in fact. She is very kind. I have, therefore, had experience with many kind Scots women.”
Rhoswyn could sense there was a sisterhood there, a mysterious thing that she was part of now and didn’t even know it. The de Wolfe women. That sisterhood of women married to the most powerful knights on the border, now including her. Desperate to understand, to become what would honor her husband, forced her to turn around and look at Sable.
“Will ye teach me all ye know?” she begged softly. “I feel so… foolish. I never expected tae marry and I certainly never expected tae marry a Sassenach knight, so there is so much I
dunna know. Tell me tae do it and I shall. I shall do whatever ye tell me I should because I dunna want tae shame me husband. He’s been so… so kind and patient, too.”
Sable smiled into the woman’s face, sensing that there was more than simply wanting to please her husband behind her request. There was softness in her eyes as she spoke, suggesting to Sable that Troy may have already made a conquest of his new wife. Much as Sable had been astonished at Troy’s manner towards Rhoswyn, she was astonished at Rhoswyn’s behavior towards Troy. Was it possible that the two of them had already found attraction and even affection with one another? Truly, it was something to marvel.
“I will teach you all that I can, I promise,” Sable assured her. “The first thing you should learn is that it is important to groom yourself for your husband. No man wants to live with a slovenly woman, so you will brush your hair every day and you will wash at least your hands and face. You can wash your entire body once a week, but no less. I will tell Troy that he must buy you soaps and oils so you can keep your skin from cracking and also so that you may smell pleasant. Men like women who smell pleasant.”
Rhoswyn was digesting everything eagerly. “They do?”
Sable nodded firmly. “They do,” she said. Then, she turned Rhoswyn around on the stool so that the woman was facing the fire again. She gathered the woman’s damp hair in her hands and began to plait it into a thick braid. “And your clothing; you must not wear your tunics or breeches any longer. It is unseemly for a woman to do so and Troy would appreciate a wife who did not dress as a man. I think I have two dresses that will fit you, as you are taller than I am and the hem of the skirts are longer, but I will tell Troy that he must go to town this very day to purchase fabric for you. You must have your own clothing.”
These were vital lessons that Rhoswyn had missed and she knew it. She was most eager to go along with it all, for Troy’s sake. She could feel Sable tugging at her hair before finally wrapping it at the base of her neck and using big iron pins to secure it into a bun. Standing back, Sable surveyed her handiwork.
“Perfect,” she declared. “Your hair must be combed and secured daily. Do you wish for me to show you how?”
Rhoswyn nodded. “I… I do.”
Sable smiled. “I will show you tonight when you let your hair out,” she said. Then, she spun around to the trunks that were lined up against the wall. “For now, we must find you something to wear.”
Still wrapped in the big drying linen, Rhoswyn stood up and went to peer over Sable’s shoulder as the woman dug through three big trunks against the wall. She would pull forth something, look at it, and either cast it aside or put it in a neat pile on the floor. Rhoswyn continued to watch curiously as Sable finally set aside two long cotes, laying them out on her mattress to get a look at them.
One cote was a shade of dark green, long of sleeve and with a square neckline, while the other one was a pale shade, a faded red. It was very lovely. Both of the garments were made of wool and when Sable was finished inspecting them, she pulled the drying cloth off of Rhoswyn and went to work.
A shift went on first, soft as a butterfly’s wing, followed by the green cote. It was all one piece – sleeves, bodice, and skirt, and it was secured by a series of stays up the back. Sable closed up the stays and handed Rhoswyn a pair of leather slippers for her feet. When Rhoswyn looked at them curiously, not really knowing what they were, Sable showed her the slippers on her own feet so Rhoswyn knew what to do. She slipped them right on. They were a little tight, but they fit, and she marveled at her feet.
“So simple?” she asked in awe. “I always wear me boots, but these shoes are so simple!”
Sable smiled as Rhoswyn’s focus was on her feet. “They will be durable, at least until you can have a tanner make you a pair of your own,” she said. Then, she stood back to admire her handiwork. She had to admit that Rhoswyn was one of the more beautiful women she’d ever seen – auburn hair, pale skin, slender torso. She suspected that Troy would be very pleased. “You will be able to work easily in this. How do you feel?”
Rhoswyn looked at the gown, warm and comfortable, and put her hands up to gingerly touch her pinned hair. “I… I dunna know,” she said. Then, she grinned. “I suppose I feel like a lady.”
Sable laughed softly. “You look like one, too,” she said. “I have a feeling your husband will be very pleased.”
The mere thought made Rhoswyn’s belly quiver. “Will we show him, then?”
Sable reached out and took her hand. “Of course we will,” she said. “You clean up very nicely. Now, promise me something.”
“Anythin’, if I can.”
“No more tunics and leather breeches.”
Rhoswyn struggled not to giggle. “Nay, no more. I promise.”
“And wash the dirt from your face and hands daily.”
“I promise.”
“And comb your hair!”
It was a command and Rhoswyn started to laugh. “If I must.”
“You must! If you do not, I will chase you down and do it for you!”
She was grinning as she said it and Rhoswyn continued laughing as they headed to the door. “With the trouble ye’ve gone to today, I wouldna dare disappoint ye, m’lady.”
Sable opened the door, but her focus was on Rhoswyn. “We are friends now,” she said. “You will call me Sable.”
It was difficult to describe how Rhoswyn felt at that moment. From a woman who had grown up having no one to talk to, and no friends to speak of, to now having a friend all her very own, and a pushy little English lass at that. But it didn’t matter; Rhoswyn felt as if someone cared for her, for the first time in her life. She felt as if she mattered.
“And ye’ll call me Rhoswyn,” she said softly.
“I would be happy to.”
Sable squeezed Rhoswyn’s hand and led her out of the chamber, down to the hall where Troy was lingering with Cassius, Audric, and a few other men.
Rhoswyn would never forget the look on Troy’s face when he saw her. Surely the faces of all of the angels in heaven had never shone so happily.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jedburgh
Troy couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of her.
They were nearing the outskirts of Jedburgh on a bright autumn morning, having left Monteviot not two hours earlier at the command of Sable who instructed Troy to take his wife to town and buy the woman things she needed. Sable got no argument from Troy, who was more than delighted to take the beautiful creature he’d married into town to buy her things. He wanted to buy her things.
But he wanted to stare at her more. He couldn’t seem to stop staring at her.
Rhoswyn rode next to him on her big black horse, astride in her borrowed dress because she had no experience in riding sidesaddle as women did. Because of that, Sable allowed her to put her leather breeches back on but they were concealed beneath the big skirt of the cote so no one could see them. Riding her excited horse on this glorious morning, Rhoswyn couldn’t remember ever having been so happy.
For certain, she was coming to realize there was much to be happy for.
A husband who seemed very attentive and a newfound friend who had made her feel like a true lady. Aye, there was a good deal to be happy for amongst these Sassenach and as the Troy, Rhoswyn, Audric, and twenty English soldiers approached the outskirts of Jedburgh, Rhoswyn kept glancing at her husband only to find him looking at her. She would flush and grin coyly, looking away from him, which made the man chuckle. She could hear him.
“So, my lady,” Troy finally said as they crossed over into the city limits. “According to Lady Sable, you may spend my money freely as long as it is on fabric for clothing and any number of things that a proper lady needs. I asked her to come with us but she felt that her presence was better served at Monteviot. Personally, I think she wanted us to be alone.”
Rhoswyn turned to look behind them, at the soldiers and the priest that were following them to town. “We are not alone, laddie,”
she said. “We’ve an entire contingent of men followin’ us.”
Troy turned to glance at his men. He was dressed in full battle regalia, looking the same as he did the day Rhoswyn kicked him in the groin and smashed him in the face with her shield. But she looked markedly different from that day; groomed, smelling sweet, and dressed in a garment that fit her rather snuggly considering she was taller and heavier than little Sable, Rhoswyn had never felt so light of heart. They were here in Jedburgh to buy her whatever she wished, and she was giddy with excitement. But she was even more giddy to be with Troy.
“Do not pay attention to my men,” he told her. “Pretend they do not exist. Pretend it is only you and me and my fat purse.”
Rhoswyn laughed softly as she looked around the town as they entered. Since they were on the outskirts, it was residential buildings surrounding them, lining the street with stone houses and thatched rooves, and then little alleyways where children were playing. She could hear them calling to each other, running up and down the muddy alleys with dogs chasing after them.
They passed by residents who were dumping chamber pots into the street or hanging clothing up to dry, residents who looked at them with suspicion as they passed into town. One old woman gave Rhoswyn a rather hostile expression and Rhoswyn glared back.
“I canna remember when I last came tae Jedburgh,” Rhoswyn said as the nasty old woman passed from her sight. “Me pa dinna like tae leave Sibbald’s, although he did send his men intae town for the cattle market.”
Jedburgh was a big cattle town, with one of the largest cattle markets on the borders. Troy turned to the priest. “The cattle market is to the north of town, is it not?” he asked.
Audric spurred his little palfrey forward, putting himself between Troy and Rhoswyn. “Aye,” he said, pointing up the avenue. “It is at the edge of town, every sixth day except durin’ the winter time. But if ye’re lookin’ for merchants, then they’ll be near the square. All of the merchants gather there to sell their wares.”
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