The girl brightened and held up a length of ribbon and what looked like either wicked sharp chopsticks or meat skewers.“Aye, right here.I was just finding them for ye.”
As Molly secured her hair, Jessa tried not to wince, then decided it was high time for some crafty fact-finding.Maybe the maid would accidentally spill the beans about what was really going on here.“How old are you, Molly?”
“I be ten and seven.”The girl soused a cloth into the water and rubbed the bar of soap across it until it was frothy and the scent of roses filled the air.“Hester be only ten and five.That’s why I’ve the more experience and would be a better lady’s maid for ye.”
Seventeen and fifteen-year-olds?What kind of guy was this Grant MacAlester?“Fifteen is pretty young to work as a maid.Aren’t you both still in school?”Of course, it was summertime.Maybe this was summer work for them, like summer theater in the park or something.
Molly paused in her scrubbing of Jessa's back.“I dinna ken what ye mean, mistress.Both Hester and I can read already.I can even figure out some weights and measures.We’ve a pair of scullery maids that are naught but ten and eleven.They canna read nor do sums yet, but Mrs.Robeson and I are teaching them, so they might be a better help to Cook with her recipes one day.The MacAlester is a kind man who pays his servants more than most.The sculleries earn a whole ten pounds a year rather than the usual six or less.Our families would go hungry were it not for him paying us so good.Many from the village wish they could work here at the keep.’Tis quite the honor.”She lowered her voice to a whisper.“The MacAlester doesna trust easy.”
“I bet he doesn’t.Is your village Seven Cairns?”That was the only local name Jessa could remember.
“Nay, MacAlester Crag.Seven Cairns is to the west of here.”She scrubbed Jessa's arms and smiled.“Yer skin is so fair, mistress, like fresh cream just poured into the pans.”
Jessa wrinkled her nose, embarrassed by the girl’s praise.“Ah, but I’m covered in freckles.”
“That’s just where the goddesses dusted ye with spices.”Molly went to the tall metal pitcher beside the fire, added some water to it from the steaming kettle hanging from the rod over the coals, then returned and gently rinsed the soapiness away.
Jessa shivered beneath the torrent of heated water.Maybe washing in a livestock tub wasn’t so bad after all.
“It’s nay too hot, is it, mistress?”Molly clutched the metal pitcher to her middle, obviously afraid she’d done wrong.
“No.It’s perfect.”
The maid shifted in place with a worried frown.“I noticed ye already scrubbed the rest of yer parts.Does a lady’s maid not wash ye all over?Am I doing this wrong?”
“You washed the parts I couldn’t reach.That’s what I look for in a lady’s maid.”Jessa gave up on tricking the devoted Molly into saying something she shouldn’t.It would be like kicking a puppy.“I think you are a fine lady’s maid.”She didn’t add that she had no idea what a lady’s maid was supposed to do, but as long as Molly wasn’t all that sure about it either, they’d get along just fine.“Maybe Hester can fill in for you whenever you take time off.”
Molly went still and stared at her as if she’d just unhinged her jaw and revealed a set of fangs.“Take time off?No one shirks their duties unless they’re dead.”Then she shrugged.“Or so ailing that they canna rise from their sickbed.But ye best not let Mrs.Robeson discover ’tis more laziness than feeling poorly.”She held up what looked like a large bedsheet.“I warmed the linen by the fire so ye willna take a chill.As cool as it is this morn, ye would hardly know ’tis June.”
Jessa tried to remember every period drama she had ever streamed on her laptop so she’d know more about what was going on.Then she recalled all the chatter she’d read about Hollywood’s historical inaccuracies.But if this was all an act—and it had to be since time travel was not possible—maybe they wouldn’t notice whatever blunders she made.She stepped out of the tub and allowed Molly to wrap the toasty warm cloth around her.“Wow, this feels wonderful.Thank you for thinking of it, Molly.”
The girl tipped her head to one side as though surprised, then she smiled.“Ye are verra welcome, mistress.’Tis my duty to take the verra best care of ye.”She led her over to a padded footstool in front of the hearth and helped her sit.“I’ll fetch the oils and comb out yer hair.Then ye can choose what ye wish to wear.”
“Choose?”
“Aye, mistress,” Molly said while gathering items from the basket on the floor.“Mrs.Robeson has a good eye for that what fits and that what doesn’t.She helped Hester and me gather some clothes for ye from the room.Once we see what ye like and what might need taking in or letting out, I’ll put them to rights, and we’ll fill the wardrobe with yer verra own things.”She blossomed with a proud smile.“Mam always said I was quite the seamstress.”
Jessa stared at her, slowly blinking as if it would help her understand what Molly had just divulged.“Thisroomwith the clothes.Is it some sort of thrift shop or something?”She tried not to think about the wholea wardrobe holding her very own thingspart.That implied she’d be staying a while, and she couldn’t quite deal with that at the moment.
“I dinna ken what a thrift shop is.”Molly gave her another puzzled look as she crouched in front of her and started rubbing a rose-scented oil on her feet and legs.“Is that a place where clothes are took when those that wore them canna wear them anymore?”
“Yes.That is what we call a thrift shop where I’m from.”Jessa didn’t mind second-handclothing.Thrifting had saved her lots of money, and she’d scored several neat finds over the years.
“If ye dinna mind my asking, where are ye from, mistress?”Molly rubbed the oil onto Jessa's arms and smeared a generous dollop into her armpits.
Jessa tried not to shudder at the greasy feel when she lowered her arms.As slippery as she was, she could probably wiggle through a keyhole.“New Jersey, and I think that’s plenty of oil for now.”
“As ye wish.”Molly set it aside and went to the articles piled in the other chair.
While she was turned the other way, Jessa dried the excess oil from her armpits.Mr.MacSexy would soon regret kidnapping her without her deodorant, toothbrush, and toothpaste.
Molly sorted through the pile of clothes like a squirrel hunting for a buried nut.She selected several items and held them up.“With yer eyes as green as a glen in springtime, these colors would suit ye.Do ye like the green or prefer the blue?”
“I usually wear black,” Jessa said.
Molly’s dark brows rose to her hairline.“Are ye in mourning, then?”
She might as well be honest with the maid.“No.Black makes me look taller and thinner.”
