by Lynsay Sands
Much to her disappointment it was not Greer, but a servant at the door. Saidh stared at the woman blankly. "Aye?"
"M'laird ordered a bath fer yer pleasure," the maid said, offering a smile and curtsy.
"Oh," Saidh murmured, peering past the woman to the small army of servants behind her. Two bore a huge tub, and half a dozen others carried pails full of water. Her smile softened at Greer's thoughtfulness, and then she pushed the door closed, shouting, "Jest one minute."
Rushing back to the bed, she dragged the top sheet off to wrap around her body. Saidh started to turn away then, but her eye caught on a large stain of blood on the bottom of the bed. It was where he'd first taken her and breached her maidenhead, she realized with a grimace, and quickly threw the furs over it before yelling, "Come in."
The door opened at once, and Saidh whirled, and then dropped to sit on top of the furs covering the stain as the servants began to bustle in with their burdens. They were quick about their business, and filed out of the room within moments, leaving a steaming bath in their wake. All of them left but the woman who had greeted Saidh on opening the door. She merely pushed the door closed behind the others and then turned to smile at Saidh.
"Lady MacDonnell said ye must ha'e left yer maid at Sinclair since ye arrived without one. She suggested I might take her place while ye're here," she announced and then added quickly, "If 'tis all right with ye?"
"Oh." Saidh hesitated. She'd happily made do without a maid this past year but she could hardly admit that. She was quite sure Lady MacDonnell would be horrified at her lack. However, she wasn't pleased with the idea of having one again. As much as she'd loved Erin, the maid had driven Saidh mad with her constant attempts to make her more a proper lady. She'd fuss forever over her hair, fiddling and fixing it into silly little ringlets and whatnot. As for the bath, the woman had been nothing but a bother there, wanting to fill it with all sorts of herbs, spices and flowers to make her "smell sweet" and then trying to wash her arms and legs for her as if she couldn't manage the task on her own.
Saidh did not mind help rinsing the soap out of her hair, but other than that, wanted no assistance when it came to bathing. She didn't feel like she could refuse the offer of a borrowed maid, though. Sighing, she stood and said, "I'd appreciate help rinsing the soap out o' me hair after I've washed it, but other than that need little in the way of assistance."
"As ye wish, m'lady," the woman said easily.
Relaxing a little, Saidh nodded and walked to the steaming bath.
"What is yer name?" she asked as she dropped the sheet and stepped into the tub.
"Joyce, m'lady," the woman said as she retrieved soap and a scrap of linen to offer to her.
"Thank ye," Saidh murmured taking the items.
"Yer welcome." Joyce started to turn away, but paused when she noted Saidh running the soap over the linen. She hesitated briefly, but then said gently, "It works out best if ye wash yer hair first. Then the water is fresh fer rinsing out the soap. As well it will dry a bit while ye wash the rest o' ye."
"Oh." Saidh peered at the soapy linen with a frown. Erin had always tried to get her to wash her hair first, but had never offered an explanation as to why so she'd waved away the suggestion. But what Joyce said made sense. She supposed 'twas easier to rinse yer hair in water that was not already soapy, and allowing it those extra moments to dry before getting out would be helpful too.
Smiling tentatively, Joyce asked, "Shall I take the linen and set it aside while ye wash yer hair?"
"Aye, please." Saidh handed it over and Joyce set it on a small stool that had been brought up and placed by the fireplace.
"Shall I jest straighten the room and make the bed while ye bathe?" Joyce asked as she returned and bent to pick up the sheet Saidh had discarded on the floor beside the tub.
"Nay!" Saidh said with alarm, then forced a smile and shook her head. "Jest put the sheet on the foot o' the bed fer now, Joyce. I prefer me bed unmade today."
Joyce's eyebrows rose, but she merely nodded and carried the sheet over to lay across the foot of the bed.
Saidh set to work washing her hair then, her wary gaze on the maid the whole time. The last thing she needed was to explain the bloodstain on the foot of the bed, but she started trying to come up with some explanation for it just in case.
"What would ye like me to do now?" Joyce asked, turning uncertainly toward her.
Saidh hesitated and then glanced toward the gowns strewn around the small chest she'd brought with her.
"I was trying to decide what to wear when ye arrived," she explained, nodding toward the mess she'd left. Clearing her throat, she added, "Mayhap ye can see what's clean and what ye think would look nice on me?"
"O' course." Joyce beamed at her, then rushed over to begin gathering up the gowns and Saidh returned to massaging the soap into her hair. After a moment, she then shifted her position in the tub, sticking her legs in the air to hang over the end so that she could lean her head back in the water and swish it around to try to remove the soap she'd just put in.
"I kept a couple of pails of water to help rinse yer hair."
Saidh gave a start at that announcement as she lifted her head out of the water and was able to hear again.
Joyce stood beside the tub once more. Smiling at her gently, she offered,"I could pour them over yer hair now to finish rinsing it."
"Oh . . . okay," Saidh said with a weak smile and then watched as Joyce proceeded to take an empty pail and set it between the two full ones that remained. She first poured in water from the steaming pail, and then water from a second not steaming pail. After testing the temperature, the maid nodded with satisfaction and straightened.
"Just lean yer head back a bit," Joyce instructed. "And here, hold this over yer eyes so none of the soapy water gets in them by accident."
Saidh accepted the fresh bit of linen and pressed it tightly to her eyes. She leaned her head back, a small sigh of pleasure slipping from her lips as warm water flowed over her hair and ran down her back.
"One more pail ought to do it," Joyce announced, and Saidh mumbled acquiescence and remained where she was. A moment later, another rush of water coasted over her head.
"There," Joyce said brightly and Saidh stiffened as she felt the woman gather her dripping hair, but relaxed when she said, "I'll jest wring out the worst of the water, and wrap a linen around it to help it dry and keep it from falling into the soapy water while ye finish yer bath."
Joyce did what she said as she spoke and Saidh took the linen away and sat up slowly as Joyce finished wrapping the larger linen around her head.
"Thank ye," Saidh murmured.
" 'Tis me pleasure," Joyce assured her and took the damp scrap of linen she'd held over her eyes from her hand, replacing it with the soapy one. "I'll jest go sort through yer dresses now. Give me a holler if ye need any assistance."
"Thank ye," Saidh repeated, feeling rather bemused. She was beginning to warm to Joyce as a maid. She didn't irritate her like Erin did. Perhaps it was because she was younger than Erin. She didn't seem much older than Saidh was herself. Perhaps being younger, Joyce didn't feel the need to scold and harass her as Erin did.
"How long ha'e ye been a lady's maid?" Saidh asked curiously, beginning to wash her arms and shoulders.
Joyce chuckled softly. "I'm no' really. I work in the kitchens, but I've been asked to fill in on several occasions when there were large parties staying here and one o' the ladies was without her maid fer one reason or another."
"Ye seem to ha'e learned well fer someone who has only filled in on occasion," Saidh commented, rinsing her arms and shoulders.
"Aye, well, I seem to learn something new from each lady," Joyce said with a smile. "Lady MacKendrick was the one who taught me that the hair should be washed first, and how best to rinse it. She said if ye did no' get all the soap out, it made yer hair flat and dull. Lady MacKendrick is well admired for her fine hair."
"Tell me what else ye've l
"Lady Buchanan is awake and taking the bath ye ordered fer her, m'laird."
Greer turned from watching two of his men at that announcement and nodded at Alpin as the boy climbed up to sit on the fence next to where he leaned. He smiled faintly at the lad, but merely grunted, "Good. Now we jest need wait fer Bowie to return from his swim."
"He's back," Alpin announced, nodding toward the stables.
Greer straightened away from the fence and turned to see the man in question leaving the stables headed their way. "Good. Then he can take over training while we go fer a swim ourselves."
"We?" Alpin asked with alarm.
Greer ignored him and waited for Bowie to reach them so that he could give his instructions.
"Why did ye say we?" Alpin asked warily when Greer had finished and Bowie moved away with a nod.
Greer turned to the lad. Grabbing him by the arm, he urged him off his perch and asked dryly, "Are ye no' the one who used to carp at me that I should bathe more often?"
"Aye, but ye were given to go for weeks without one while we were at battle if I did no' carp," Alpin muttered as Greer dragged him away from the fence. "And I meant in warm water in a tub inside, no' in a freezing loch with all manner o' fish and critters in it."
"Bathing indoors is fer ladies and bairns . . . and mayhap fer men in the winter," Greer allowed reluctantly, but then rallied and added, "But when the weather is fine as 'tis now, a warrior prefers the loch."
" 'Tis no' fine today," Alpin argued as Greer pulled him toward the stables. "There is a chill in the air."
"Just a hint o' fall hailing us ere summer starts her death cries," Greer said with a shrug.
" 'Twill be me death cry yer hearing if ye make me swim in the loch," Alpin muttered with disgust as the stable master appeared at the mouth of the stables with Greer's horse in tow. "I am already down with fever and should be abed."
"Aye, I ken ye are," Greer said sympathetically as he swung Alpin up onto the saddle. He then mounted behind him and took the reins with a "thank ye" for the man before urging the horse toward the drawbridge. "And that is why I decided we shall go swimming rather than meself alone."
"Ye're trying to kill me," Alpin moaned, slumping in the saddle before him.
Greer rolled his eyes at the dramatics and shook his head. "Nay. I'm trying to help ye. Ye're too hot, lad. 'Twill boil yer brains do we no' get the fever down and I'm hoping a cold swim'll do the trick. Otherwise, 'twill mean leeches and poultices fer ye."
"No' leeches," Alpin gasped with horror. "I hate leeches."
"I ken ye do," Greer acknowledged sympathetically. Mouth firming, he then added, "But I've grown rather fond o' yer sorry little arse nagging at me, so if the swim does no' work, we'll do whatever we ha'e to, to see ye well. Even leeches."
Alpin groaned and slumped closer against him and Greer frowned at the heat pouring off the boy. He was really quite concerned about the lad. It had been dawn when he'd woken the last time in Saidh's bed. Greer had been terribly tempted to wake Saidh for another round of passion, but she'd looked so peaceful sleeping, and he was concerned that he would just add to the discomfort that she would no doubt suffer today, so had forced himself from Saidh's bed, gathered anything that would speak of his presence in her room and had dragged himself back to his own.
His bedchamber had seemed empty when he'd entered and Greer had quickly changed and headed below. He'd intended to go out and collect his horse to ride out to the loch for a quick dip to clean himself up before breaking his fast. But one look at the empty stall where Bowie kept his horse had told him that unless he wanted company, he should wait to take his own swim. His first, he had noticed, liked to swim early in the morning as well. He'd come across the man on more than one occasion down at the loch.
Clucking impatiently under his tongue, Greer had trudged back into the keep to break his fast, but it had been a tiresome business. He hadn't swum yet to build up his appetite, and Lady MacDonnell, Saidh, nor even Alpin were at the tables. He knew Lady MacDonnell hadn't been feeling well the night before and so was probably having a lie-in, and he had kept Saidh up half the night with his desires so she would sleep late. But Alpin's absence had been troublesome and after searching the bailey and castle, Greer had returned to his room and found that it wasn't empty after all. The boy had been huddled under a mountain of furs at the foot of the bed, shivering madly.
A quick feel of his forehead had only deepened Greer's concern and he'd rousted the boy from sleep and harried him downstairs to break his fast, making sure he ate heartily despite his protests. He'd then gone to the kitchens to order the cook to put water on to heat for a bath, then returned to Alpin and told him to go back above stairs, grab some furs from his bed, and huddle outside Lady Saidh's door. At the first sound that suggested she was awake, he was to run down to the kitchens and tell them to take up the bath. Then he was to come out and let him know.
The boy had done as told, Bowie had returned, and now Greer intended to make Alpin submerge himself in the cold loch water, even if he had to hold him down to get it done. He knew the common belief right now was that you should close all the windows, bundle the ailing individual up and stoke the fires in the room high to boil out the fever, but Greer had met a rather wise old healer once who had told him that was the wrong way to go about it. That a fever too high could damage the head and ye were better to do what ye could to cool the body than to heat it further.
Since that healer had saved his life when he was quite sure no one else could have, he was wont to listen to her advice and cool Alpin down. If it didn't work . . . well, then he'd try something else.
"There ye are."
Saidh peered into the mirror Joyce held before her. Eyes widening in surprise as she took in her reflection, she breathed with amazement, "Why ye've made me pretty without fussing hardly at all."
Joyce laughed and set the mirror aside. "M'lady, God made ye pretty. I jest brushed out yer hair and put in a couple o' wee braids to keep it out o' yer face during the day."
That was exactly what she'd done. Joyce had taken a few strands of hair on one side to make one long thin braid, and then done the same on the other before drawing both back to weave them together at the back of her head. Each braid held the rest of her unbraided hair off her face. It was most sensible. She would battle better with her sword without her hair getting in the way . . . and yet she looked pretty. . . . and ladylike, she marveled. And it had not even taken long or needed a lot of fuss.
Saidh smiled happily at the woman and stood up. "Ye're very good at this, Joyce. I'd be happy to have ye to maid."
"Ah, ye're too kind, m'lady. I did little," Joyce said, but beamed with pleasure.
Smiling, Saidh reached out to squeeze her hand in gratitude, and then turned to lead the way to the door, thinking that she would enjoy Joyce as her maid much more than she ever had Erin, and wondering if she could convince Lady MacDonnell or Greer to let her take her with her when she left. Lady MacDonnell was hardly likely to be eager to part with such a gem.
Thoughts of Lady MacDonnell reminded her of the woman knocking at her door last night to check on her after Greer had stabbed her with his cock and set her off bellowing. The memory made her bite her lip. She had been quite rude to the woman, leaving her standing in the hall to talk through the door, but had had little choice at the time. She really should apologize for it now though, she decided.
"How is Lady MacDonnell today?" Saidh asked as she opened her chamber door and led Joyce out into the hall.
"She is ha'ing a lie in, but I think is feeling better than yester eve," Joyce said solemnly.
"And Laird MacDonnell?" Saidh asked, trying not to sound too eager.
"Oh, he seemed fine and fit this morn," Joyce assured her. "Ha'e no' seen the man smile so wide since he got here. I'm sure he has no' been afflicted by whatever Lady MacDonnell and wee Alpin have."
"Alpin is ill?" Saidh paused and turned to the woman with surprise.
"Aye," Joyce said with a little sigh. "And he appears to ha'e it worse than Lady MacDonnell. She is merely tired, but wee Alpin was flush and shivering something fierce this morn when the laird dragged him down to break his fast."
Saidh turned to start down the stairs with a frown. She found the news that the squire was ill surprisingly distressing considering what a pain in the arse the lad had been.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Joyce said suddenly as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "The cook asked me to tell ye that he made that applemoyse fer ye first thing this morn and 'tis ready whenever ye want it."
"Oh." Saidh's frown turned into a grimace. She'd quite forgotten about her plan to sweeten Fenella up with the treat and then try to sort out if she was like the scorpion and killing was just in her nature.
Well, Saidh thought, she had to break her fast anyway. She could take the applemoyse up to Fenella for them both to break their fast with.
"Thank ye, Joyce," Saidh said quietly as she led her to the door to the kitchens.
Cook was a large, florid-faced man who always seemed to be smiling from what Saidh could tell. He greeted her cheerfully, presented the applemoyse with pride and a pleasure that only seemed to grow when he realized she wanted it for her cousin. Saidh left the kitchens with the applemoyse and the distinct impression that the cook, as well as the rest of the servants in the kitchens, quite liked Fenella. None of them seemed to think she'd had anything to do with Allen's death, and while they loved Lady MacDonnell they all felt it was a shame that in her grief, the woman was blaming "poor wee Fenella."
Saidh pondered that as she headed back above stairs, wondering if they weren't right. After all, Lady MacDonnell herself had even suggested that might be the case. Of course, Lady MacDonnell didn't know that Fenella's first husband's death was not an attack by bandits. Just as Saidh hadn't known about the feather in Laird MacIver's mouth, which wasn't conclusive evidence of anything, but certainly made a body wonder.
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