In Bed With A Stranger (9 page)

“This is my sister, Fiona. She’s vain concerning her hair.”

Fiona tossed her head, settling one hand on her hip. She looked formidable, much more so than any titled lady Anne had ever seen.

“I am only vain if you don’t have standards above those of the stable animals, Brother dearest.”

Brodick frowned, aiming a hard look at his sister. “I take pride in my horses. Best kept animals in Scotland.”

His stern reprimand made Anne laugh, a soft sound escaping her lips before she stilled it. Brodick’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t need the pair of ye uniting in an effort to annoy me.” His tone was stern but his eyes glittered with amusement.

“But I appreciate it full well. I’ve been the lone woman at this table for far too long.” Fiona offered her a bright smile that drew a groan from Brodick.

“’Tis a fine season for weddings.”

Fiona lost her teasing look. “When pigs smell nice.” She stood up enjoying the way all the men at the long table stopped talking to tug the corners of their bonnets in respect. The ease that the younger woman dealt with so much male attention was admirable. Fiona sent her a smile. “I’m too young to wed. Convince my oaf of a brother for me please?”

Anne couldn’t resist the teasing mood. With a sigh she shook her head. “Better to take yourself to the chapel for I am learning that your brother is as set in his ways as an old man.”

Cullen and Druce laughed. Fiona smiled. “Well that is a fact. I do hope for the best for yer union in spite of it.”

She strode away, her body a tightly leashed bundle of energy. Cullen clicked his tongue.

“You know, that sister of ours is going to drive some poor man insane.”

“She’s already doing it.” Brodick shook his head. “To me.”

Cullen smirked. His brother offered him a deadly look before his midnight eyes returned to Anne. His mood changed instantly, heat entering his gaze as his eyes settled on her lips for a moment.

“It seems we have some traditions to observe, my lady. I wouldnae want to keep you waiting.”

Yet I must keep you waiting…

Anne didn’t like her own thoughts, not a bit, but she held her chin steady. “I am not so old that you need to rush, my lord.”

A soft sound of amusement passed his lips but it wasn’t a cheerful one. He used his hold on her hand to pull her closer, watching her eyes as he did it. He lowered his voice so that it remained between them.

“And I am not so young as to be led about on a merry dance. I went to England to fetch a wife and that is what I intend to have in my bed this night.”

Brodick stood. Half the room did too. Men lifted tankards to down a last measure before leaving with their lord. He lingered for a long moment, almost as though he wanted her to see his power. Even if such was arrogant Anne could not discard how admirable it was.

“I’ll set off to fulfill yer request, madam.”

Anne rose to her feet. Something inside her demanded she meet his show of strength with steel in her spine. “A safe journey to you, my lord.”

With a slow curtsy she quit the room, conscious of how many eyes watched her. Anticipation drew her belly tight but the thing that made her walk fast was the pulsing tempo filling her blood.

It was excitement.

This night…

Anne paced the entire length of the chamber, turned and moved toward the opposite wall. She barely noticed the room, so intent on the coming battle with Brodick. She needed to find a solution, some way to push off his demands yet again.

A small bell attached to the door rang. Looking up, she stared at the tiny silver bell. It looked like something she’d seen in the church, used only to enhance the service. This one was hanging from an iron hook with a string tied to the top. That twine passed through a hold in the door.

Someone on the other side of the door pulled the string which tugged the bell to one side. When they released the tension, the bell swung allowing it to ring. The door opened slowly, a middle-aged woman peeked in.

“Ma’am, I’m Helen.” She pushed the door wide, hesitating as she stared at her.

“Good day.”

Helen nodded before looking over her shoulder. “This way.”

There was a scuff of boots before two lads entered with their arms full of clothing. They muttered greetings as they passed.

“I’ll see to getting yer things in order. I fear that tying them to the saddle has left most of yer skirts crushed. But it’s nothing that cannae be undone.”

“Traveling is always hard on clothing. Even with a trunk.” Anne followed the boys, reaching for a heavy skirt. Giving it a hard shake, she froze when she noticed the gaping looks being sent her way.

Another error. Lady Mary would have never seen to her own garments.

Her temper rose as she thought of her half-sister. She did not care. She could not change who she was, and she was not pampered nor lazy nor was she going to be able to start behaving as such.

“Thank you for bring my things to me.” Giving the skirt another shake, she turned and spread it over a chair. She reached for another item, smiling as she did it. Helen watched her, studying her for a long moment. With an approving nod, the middle-aged woman pointed at the young men.

“What’s the matter with ye? Do you think all English ladies are whining babes that don’t know a thing about running their own homes?”

Helen sent Anne a smile. “The lord sent me to maid ye, at least until ye decide who ye prefer among the staff. The cook has set some water to boil and the lads here will be bringing the bathing tub up for a bath afore the midwife arrives.”

“There’s no need to bring the tub up. I will bathe in the bath room.”

Helen looked stunned. She opened her mouth but shut it before speaking. Anne snapped another skirt to cover the awkward moment. She had to appear confident in her every motion, else no one would believe her.

“The lord told me to have ye bathe in this chamber as befits yer station, ma’am. It just wouldn’t be fitting for ye to join the staff in the bath house.”

“I am not accustomed to taking direction from your lord.” Anne froze for a moment, attempting to calm her temper. Brodick was the master of the house. A fact that she would be wise to remember. Maybe she wasn’t his true wife but there wasn’t anyone to stand between him and her should she raise his anger by being peckish in her words. Even Philipa minded her tongue when her noble husband was sharing the same roof with her.

“I am simply not one to waste time, Helen. Hauling water and tubs is wasteful when I’m very capable of walking myself to the bathing facilities. I’m sure that the staff has plenty of tasks and don’t need me adding one.”

Helen looked surprised, stunned into a moment of silence. She recovered, smiling.

“Now that’s a fine head ye have on those shoulders. Indeed, I’m pleasantly astounded.” Helen turned to address her helpers.

“Go down and tell Bythe to make sure the tub is ready for the mistress. You two can stand at the door to make sure no one interrupts her bath.”

Helen waved them both out the door, command sitting comfortably on her shoulders. She crossed the floor and scanned the piles of clothing.

“Well now, what we need is a clean chemise for ye and maybe that sturdy surcoat ye were wearing. No need to tie ye back up in yer stays if ye’re going to be inspected after yer bath.”

Anne turned around to hide her uncertainty. It wasn’t that she was overly modest, but she was unaccustomed to having her body seen bare.

“Is there a senior midwife at Sterling?”

“Nay. Not one that ye might consider very experienced. The earl and his brother set out for Perth to fetch Agnes. She’s been delivering babes for decades. Her wit is sharp as a pike and her eyes still keen.”

So he was taking no chance on her disapproving of the midwife. Anne felt the walls closing in on her, Philipa’s trap pressing in, making it harder to breathe.

Helen pulled a chemise free, smiling as she held it up. “This is so lovely. I believe the earl will find it quite fetching on ye. We’ll brush out yer hair, and won’t ye make a pretty bride when we put ye to bed with yer new husband.”

Helen pulled the door open, waiting for Anne to precede her toward the bath. Tension knotted Anne’s belly but she forced her feet to move.

“There now, no need to be so worried. The earl is a fine man. Yer wedding night willnae be anything to work yerself into knots over. By sunrise, ye’ll be lamenting having to leave his bed to see to the day’s chores.”

That was exactly what she did fear. Developing a taste for Brodick’s touch wasn’t wise. She was so tired of being caught in the middle. Her life had always been unfair and today she felt the weight of that more than ever before.

But that changed nothing. Placing a corset back on the bed, Anne turned to follow Helen to another bath that wasn’t meant for her.

The chamber was on the second floor, the stairs set into the rounded wall of the tower. There was a sturdy hand rail, placed on the open side to keep a missed step from turning to disaster. Looking up, she saw a ceiling that was also the floor of the chamber she’d been pacing across. There was another set of stairs that led to a third floor. With five of the large structures, an enemy would find it impossible to approach Sterling without being seen.

Helen led her to the bottom of the stairs. There was more noise here, the sounds of conversation and steps on the hard floor. She was slightly surprised to see carpets. Everything she knew of Scotland said the Celtic people were less advanced than their English neighbors. She had expected rushes to be covering the floor. The wool carpets were a pleasant discovery. Dry rushes turned musty during the long winter months, collecting mud and dirt as they were walked on. There was no way to clean them until spring when you had them completely hauled away and new ones set down.

Carpets could be taken out into the yard and beaten. At Warwickshire, she’d helped with the task and watched a great cloud of dust rising as a crop was applied. The hall smelled far better, without the stink of months of grime.

“We have a fine bath house. The lord has made sure it’s as modern as any in England.”

Helen moved past the kitchens, and the maids turned to cast curious looks their way.

“We don’t even have to haul the hot water by bucket anymore.” Helen preened as she entered the bath house behind the kitchen and pointed eagerly at a wooden trough.

“The lord had that added when he saw one at the house of one of yer English nobles. Ye ring the bell and the cook pours the water and….there ye are. Almost as modern as the Romans had.”

It was such a simple idea but one that would save a lot of sore fingers. Anne touched the wooden spillway, shaking her head at the simplicity of the idea. The trough extended over a large slipper tub. A peek inside showed her that it was clean, not sporting rust. As bath houses went, Sterling was no shame. But something near the bottom of the tub caught her attention. A round piece of expensive cork, pushed into the metal side.

“Is there a hole in the tub?”

Helen reached for an iron ring hanging from another hook. She pulled it several times before turning to answer.

“Yes, ma’am. The lord calls that a stopper. Look at the floor and ye’ll see another wooden track constructed to let the water carry itself away when ye’re done. That’s why the tub is set up on blocks, so that the water can flow.”

Anne hurried around and sure enough there was another pair of boards waiting to guide the water toward a missing stone in the floor. She couldn’t see where it went from there but the idea was immensely ideal. No hauling of water at all. Simply scrub out the tub and bathing was suddenly a simple matter.

Now that was modern thinking.

Water began splashing into the empty tub.

“There now, let’s get yer dress off before Bythe sends the hot water.”

Helen was already reaching for the buttons that held her doublet closed down the front of her body. She made quick work of it, moving behind her to gently tug the open garment down her arms. There were rows of pegs set into a long piece of wood that ran the length of the walls. Helen hung the doublet on one as Anne began unlacing her skirts. Her fingers were slow as she tried to think of a reason to avoid getting into the tub and thereby put off the coming inspection.

But she could think of nothing, so her skirts were lifted over her head and hung on another peg.

“’Tis glad I am to see that ye’re not padded. The lord didnae care for the court ladies he met. He said you couldnae even tell that they were women for all the steel and padded pieces they strapped to themselves beneath their dresses.”

“The queen does love her fashion.”

Anne watched Helen take her small hip roll away. It wasn’t any larger than her fist and considered modest by most. Worn around the hips, it helped carry the weight of the cartridge pleated skirts. There was the added bonus that it kept your hem away from your feet, making it far simpler to carry a heavy tray because you didn’t need a hand to pick up your skirt.

“I heard that the English queen padded her hips a full foot on either side of her body. As if anyone would believe a woman could be so broad.”

Helen shook her head on the way to a peg. Anne smiled because it was true that many women wore large hip rolls to give the illusion that they were good child bearers. Prenuptial inspections had become popular in the last decade due to the practice.

“’Tis glad I am to see that ye’re not suffering your monthly curse. That would have put the lord in a nasty humor indeed.”

Standing in only her stays and chemise, it was easy for Helen to notice the lack of stain on the cream cloth.

“But it would have been his own fault for not giving you any notice of when he was going to be arriving to fetch ye. I imagine that ye are a wee bit tender having to leave your family without time to truly prepare for the separation.”

Helen pulled on the lace securing Anne’s stays in place. She tugged and loosened each eye until the stiffly boned vest released its hold on Anne’s breasts. A little mutter of delight escaped her because she didn’t sleep in her corset normally. Freedom from the steel-stiffened garment was very welcome, her breasts rejoicing in it.