“What is that supposed to mean?” Trulie scooted to the edge of the bed and carefully lowered her feet to the floor. Coira’s “Hmmm” spoke volumes, presenting all sorts of possibilities that effectively released an oversized horde of fluttering butterflies in Trulie’s stomach.
“Well...” Coira made an odd chirping noise like a hen about to lay an egg. “All I know is how the MacKenna looked at ye when ye walked in front of him in those tight-fittin’ trews ye are a wearin’.” Coira giggled out a bubbling chortle as she rattled around in the backpack. “If he caught sight of ye in yer wee bit of black lace, the man’s plaid would surely stand out stiff as a banner hung across a pole.”
So, the honey-voiced chieftain liked the rear view of her jeans? Trulie pressed both hands to her flaming cheeks again but couldn’t resist joining Coira’s infectious giggling. Maybe this short visit to the thirteenth century wouldn’t be so bad after all.
* * *
“Holy shit, that is cold!”Trulie crossed her arms tighter over her bare breasts as the icy water sluiced down her body and splashed into the tub at her feet.
“Aye, mistress.” Coira scrubbed her back with a rough cloth. “Fresh water from the loch gets the humors a movin’ first thing in the morn.”
“Give me that rag. I can wash myself.” Trulie jerked her hand toward the bright pink aura. “D-d-dammit, I can barely talk. My teeth are chattering from hypothermia.”
“I shall stoke the fire. Hurry and wash, m’lady. I have a nice hot bowl of parritch for ye over by the fire.
“Is there any soap?” Trulie gingerly dipped the rag in the cold water around her feet and scrubbed up and down her legs. Damnation.The more she scrubbed, the colder the water seemed. “And what is parritch?” She was in an ill mood this morning and ice water dumped over her head didn’t improve it. She was still sightless, had a crick in her neck and a stuffy nose from the down pillows, and was just pretty much angry at the world.
“Oats, mistress,” Coira answered in a wounded tone. “Hold out yer wee rag and I will guide ye to the bowl of soap.”
Trulie held out the square of linen. She really shouldn’t snap at Coira. It wasn’t the girl’s fault indoor plumbing and foam pillows had yet to be invented. The cool rim of a stoneware bowl pushed up against her hand. She dipped the cloth in the slimy substance and brought it to her nose. Whew. That should burn the hair off her legs.She soused the cloth in the water, shook it free of the acrid-smelling soap, then finished scrubbing her body.
“Here, mistress. Hold fast to my shoulder and step free of the tub. I’ll lead ye to the fire and rub ye down. Ye will feel refreshed in no time.”
Trulie very much doubted that, but what other choice did she have? Giving up on her last shred of modesty, she extended her arms and slowly turned in front of the fire while Coira dried her off. She felt like a rotisserie chicken getting ready for the spit.
“There now. All dry and smelling sweet as a spring breeze.” Coira shoved a garment over her head, pulled her arms through the sleeves, and shook it down her body.
Trulie smoothed her hands down the nubby weave. Must be some sort of linen. She shoved the sleeves up to her elbows and pushed her wet curls behind her ears. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I have never been a morning person.”
“Never ye mind,” Coira said soothingly, as she led Trulie to a chair. “Sit ye down and eat. A warm full belly will lift yer mood.”
Gingerly patting her hands in front of her, Trulie found the bowl and the handle of a wooden spoon. She leaned forward and inhaled deeply. Yuck. Oatmeal.She pushed it away and folded her hands in her lap. “I am really not hungry this morning. If I could just have a nice hot cup of tea, that would be awesome.” Coffee would be even better, but she knew that was an impossibility.
Coira took hold of her hand and wrapped her fingers around a warm cup. “Yer grandmother told me of yer druthers. I dinna ken what tea is but this here is a fine warmed wine. There is a nice hot bannock here for ye too. Fresh from Cook’s fire.” Coira guided her other hand and rested it atop what felt like a toasty square biscuit.
“Thank you.” Her frame of mind improved considerably with every sip of the wine. The warm bannock melted in her mouth, rich and oaty, in a good way.
Coira’s pink aura bounced around the room, banging furniture and fluffing cloth as Trulie ate. “Mother Sinclair says Master Tamhas has a fine poultice that will hurry the healin’ of yer eyes. Once ye are dressed, the wagon is a waitin’ in the bailey to carry ye to his croft.”
Trulie popped the last of the bannock in her mouth and washed it down with a gulp of the hot wine. If Coira had told her that in the first place, she would have been a lot more cooperative. She was sick and tired of being sightless. She patted the table and stood. “I am ready. Let’s go.”
“Nay, mistress.” Coira carefully walked her around the table and moved her closer to the fire. “Ye must finish dressing first. Ye have nothin’ on but yer shift.”
Trulie fluffed the loose-fitting garment around her legs. “I am ready whenever you are.”
“First yer stockings.” Coira gently pushed her down and to one side. “Sit on the wee bench so ye dinna fall.”
Trulie propped herself on the edge of the cushion and lifted a foot. Coira smoothed what felt like a thick wool sock up to her thigh and secured it with a tightening tug and pull of some sort of string. Trulie patted her fingers atop the strange stock and the ribbon knotted around her thigh.
Coira batted away her hands. “Dinna untie the ribbons or yer hose will be down around yer ankles.”
Flexing her toes in the soft wooly weave, Trulie latched onto the edge of the stool as Coira yanked a soft leather shoe onto her foot and tied it around her ankle.
“Too tight. My toes will turn blue.” Trulie bent to loosen the shoe only to have her hands batted away again.
“Quit yer havering and lift yer other foot. The ties will ease as ye walk. The laces are leather and dinna need loosening.”
Coira was turning out to be bossier than Granny. Trulie stuck her bare foot in the air, drumming her fingers on the cushions as Coira secured the other stocking and shoe. “Hurry up.”
