It was almost a month after the fire when Bonnie had decided she’d had enough. It was Hogmanay, the time of new beginnings, and she figured she could start right then and there.
Mrs. Oliphant, the grumpy cook who seemed to have a soft spot for her, was in the middle of brow-beating her to eat. “Come along, milady! I ken ye like the soup well enough, and I’ve baked this bread fresh this morning!”
Bonnie thought it was much better than her attempts in the kitchen during the blizzard. Heavens, how long ago had that been? Time seemed to blur together these days.
With a satisfied sigh, she pushed the tray back toward the cook.
“Everything was delicious, Mrs. Oliphant. And if you will leave the bread, I promise to nibble on it throughout the afternoon.”
The woman peered suspiciously at her. “I dinnae like the look in yer eyes, lass.”
“I did not think you would. I am prepared to do something drastic.”
“Howdrastic?”
“Verydrastic.” Bonnie grinned impishly. “On your way downstairs, could ye ask Mrs. Oliphant to send up a hot bath for me?”
“Saints preserve us, she’s bathing,” the cook muttered on her way out the door, and Bonnie’s smile grew. She was certain she was doing the right thing.
But when the tub arrived, followed by Bonnie’s sisters, she wasn’t so sure. “What are you two doing here?”
With a sigh, Tiffany lowered herself into one of the chairs as the maid and two footmen Lyon had hired—at least, Ember thought they were supposed to be footmen—filled the tub and set up a screen.
“We are here to help you. Is it not obvious?”
Bonnie eyed her pregnant sister. “I am not sure how much help you will be.”
“I amsupervising. Ember, drag our smelly sister out of bed, please?”
When Tiffany waved imperiously, both Ember and Bonnie smiled. “With pleasure,” they chimed in unison.
Ember’s hold was gentle, as it had been the other times her sisters had visited, and soon Bonnie was standing beside the screen wrapped in a robe, while Ember examined her leg.
“Well, it does not look so bad, does it? It has healed nicely.”
Bonnie had to agree. “Yes, the scars will likely be permanent, but I can walk well enough, which was not a given.”
Hesitantly, Ember’s gaze lifted to Bonnie’s head, which was still swaddled in bandages. “Do you want to remove those?” she asked in a low voice.
Bonnie faced the mirror and took a deep breath. “Yes. Please.”
Ember gently pushed her down onto the small stool and reached for the end of the bandage, which the maid had tucked carefully in the back. The doctor had visited regularly, and given the girl instructions, which she—and the housekeeper—carried out to the letter.
But Bonnie knew the wounds had scabbed over a while ago and could now be exposed to the air.
And perhaps even washed now that the pain was so much less intense.
Ember was gently unwinding the lengths of soft linen, but she hesitated when she reached the last layer. “Are you ready?”
From the other chair, Tiffany scoffed noisily. “Stop dragging it out, already. My stomach cannot take much more worry!”
Ember met Bonnie’s gaze in the mirror, and they shared a secret indulgent smile at Tiffany’s imperious nature.
And then Ember removed the last bandage.
Bonnie barely heard Tiffany’s horrified gasp, or Ember’s low moan of pity. She was too busy staring at herself.
She’d never cared much for her hair, one way or the other. It had just…always been there.
