Page 16 of The Lyon and the Lass

A young lad greeted them as he swung his leg over the saddle. He helped Christine down, who looked very tired. After giving the stable lad instructions to take special care of Fergus because of the extra weight he’d carried, he led her into the inn. The innkeeper remembered him and greeted him warmly. “Is this the lovely bride you told us about on your way to London?” the man asked as he wiped his hands on a linen cloth.

“Aye. This is Lady Christine Lindsay.”

Christine offered the man a warm smile, but ’twas obvious from her demeanor that all she required was a meal and a soft bed.

“I have a nice bedchamber for you and your new wife, Laird. Shall I have your dinner sent up?”

“Aye, please.” He took Christine by the elbow and led her up the stairs behind the innkeeper.

“If you wish a bath, my lady, I can have one sent up for you.”

Christine’s entire demeanor changed. “Oh, thank you very much. A hot bath would be just the thing.”

The room was clean with a comfortable-looking bed. As much as she would have loved to just lay down and sleep, she knew she would rest better with a clean body and full stomach. Of course, she had very little in the way of clean clothes to change into.

She did have one travel gown in the rapidly packed satchel. “Do you think your wife can try to brush a dress clean for me?”she asked the innkeeper. There wouldn’t be so much road dust the rest of the way to Kerrigan’s home since they would be traveling in a carriage now.

“Of course. I will ask my wife to fetch it from you when she brings your meal.”

“Thank you,” she said.

Once the innkeeper left, she removed her cloak and dropped it in the chair next to a small table where they would most likely eat their supper.

“I am going downstairs to have an ale while ye take yer bath,” Kerrigan said.

She was grateful for him to do that because she wasn’t comfortable with him in the room while she undressed. “Thank you. I won’t take long.” She removed her shoes, and he made a fast exit.

Lying in the warm water was wonderful. She sat up and reached for her scented soap. And realized it was in her satchel. She climbed out of the tub and hurried over to where she left it and after rummaging around, pulled out the soap. Even with the small fire in the room, she had become chilled, but relaxed again when she slid down in the warm water.

Once she was warm again, she sat up to wash her body. No cleaning cloth. She looked over at the table where the innkeeper’s wife had placed the cloth. She splashed the water in frustration and again climbed from the warmth of the tub, rubbing her arms.

Back again, she sighed with pleasure, rubbing the sweet-smelling soap over the cloth and washing her body. When she was finished, she dipped her head into the water and rubbed soap over it. It was lovely to feel clean. With soap dripping down her face she realized there was no maid holding a bucket of clean water to dump over her head and body so she could rinse the soap off.

Whatever was she to do? She glanced down at the water which was now cold and soapy. How did women without maids take baths? She’d been given the services of a personal maid once she was out of the nursery.

She assumed that Kerrigan would be returning to the room soon. Here she sat, shivering, in slimy water, strands of soapy hair hanging down around her face. She had to rinse the soap off or she would be itching all night. Glancing down, she realized the only way to end up with a somewhat non-soapy head was to dunk it. Or wait for her husband to return and ask him to go to the kitchen and bring a bucket of clean water.

Shrugging, she dipped down and tried her best to swirl her hair to remove the soap. She came up guggling and spitting water. Anxious now to get out of the tub, she stood and groaned when she realized the drying cloth was on the chair next to the table where the washing cloth had been.

Just as she was stepping over the edge of the tub, the door opened, startling her. She turned, lost her balance and tumbled to the floor, landing on her hip. “Ouch!”

Kerrigan closed the door and hurried to her side. “Are ye well, lass?” She shook off the desire to ask him if he thought she looked well. “I hurt my hip.” She looked up at him, realizing her naked, wet, soapy body was on full display. “Can you get me the drying cloth over there?” she snapped.

He reached the chair in two strides and returned to her. Kneeling on one knee, he helped her up, as gently as possible. “Here, stand up and I’ll wrap ye in the linen.”

If only there was a hole in the floor she could crawl into. He shook out the cloth and wrapped it around her, then led her to the fire in the hearth. “Sit here and ye will warm up. I need to look at yer hip.”

God’s bones, she didn’t want to unwrap herself and have him poking around. “No, it was merely a bump, I am fine.” She satin the chair attempting to dry herself off without removing the cloth.

“I will make use of the water and give myself a quick bath.” He began to remove his clothes as he spoke to her.

“It is rather soapy,” she said.

“’Tis fine. I’ll use the water in the jug on the dresser to rinse off.”

Christine closed her eyes and groaned.

Chapter Nine