Rowan's Lady (21 page)

They made their way up the curved and narrow
staircase which spilled out onto a large landing. Selina remained quiet as she
led Arline down the long narrow hallway.

“Lady Beatrice,” Arline murmured softly. “She is
Rowan’s lover?”

Selina’s eyes grew wide with disgust and surprise.
“Och!” she exclaimed loudly before leaning in to speak to Arline in hushed
tones. “She
wishes
she were his lover!”

Arline’s interest was thoroughly piqued. She
feigned ignorance and bade Selina to tell her more.

“My mum taught me that if I dunna have anythin’
nice to say, then I shouldna say anythin’ at all.” Selina was reluctant to tell
Arline anything that might be construed as inappropriate or rude.

Selina stopped midway down the hallway and opened
the door to a nicely appointed bedchamber. A large canopied bed sat to Arline’s
right and directly opposite the bed was a fireplace. The room had not been used
in quite some time and all the furniture, save for the lovely bed, was draped
in white sheets.

“It has been some time since anyone has used this
room, me lady,” Selina said as she walked to the windows and pulled back the
heavy furs that covered them. Though it was a rather gloomy day, the breeze
that rushed in helped to remove some of the musty smell that filled the room.

Together, they began to remove the sheets from the
furniture. Arline could not keep her curiosity at bay any longer.

 “Selina, if yer mum
hadn’t
taught ye to
hold yer tongue if ye hadn’t anythin’ nice to say,” Arline tried to sound as
nonchalant as she could. “What
would
ye say about Lady Beatrice?’

Selina giggled as she snapped the dust from the
sheet that had been hiding a beautiful writing desk. “Well, if me mum hadna
taught me that, then I’d be tellin’ ye that I do no’ like Lady Beatrice.”

Arline raised an eyebrow and felt some measure of
satisfaction knowing she was not alone in her feelings for Lady Beatrice.
“And?”

Selina folded the sheet and reached for the one
that Lady Arline was holding. “Me lady, I do no’ like to speak ill of someone
who is no’ here to defend themselves.”

Instantly, Arline felt guilty for having asked.
She detested gossip and felt precisely the same way as Selina when it came to
speaking about someone behind their back. And what did she care about the
relationship between Rowan and Beatrice?

So what if she had wakened this morning, wrapped
in his strong, protective arms? And what did it matter that he kissed her neck?
He had been asleep after all, and she couldn’t hold anything a sleeping man did
against him. She had done her best to convince herself that none of that had
mattered. And she wasn’t about to read anything into his offer of a safe home
and a position as Lily’s governess. Arline needed a home and Rowan needed
someone to care for his daughter. There was nothing more to it than that.

As they set the room to rights, shaking the dust
from the sheets and airing out the room, Arline answered Selina’s questions on
how she came to be at Castle
Áit na Síochána.

Arline kept her answers short and to the point.
Her story did not take long to explain and she was glad that Selina had not
asked too many questions.

“Well,” Selina said as she looked about the room.
“While yer in the bathin’ room, I’ll bring ye clean sheets and blankets. I’ll
see about findin’ ye some clean clothes as well.”

“Bathin’ room?” Arline asked.

“Aye, we have a room below stairs, just off the
kitchens, where we do all our bathin’,” Selina explained. “We have six tubs
there. It saves on us havin’ to tote tubs and buckets of water up and down the
stairs.”

Arline thought it an ingenious idea and could not
wait to see it. She followed Selina out of the room and down a different set of
stairs. These were a bit wider and well lit from sconces that hung on the walls
every few feet.

The stairs took them into a very small area next
to the larder and kitchen. Arline could hear a bustling of activity coming from
the kitchen. They continued down a narrow hallway lined with many heavy wooden
doors. Selina opened the second door to their right. The humidity hit Arline’s
face the moment she stepped inside.

The room was quite large, with tall ceilings and
wood floors. There were gaps between the wooden planks which Arline found odd.
A wall ran down the center of the room dividing it in half. There were three
tubs on each side, a large fireplace with an enormous pot hanging over the
fire. It resembled the pots one would find in the laundries.

Several chairs were scattered about the room along
with low tables and shelves. Selina led Arline to the tub room on their right.
“This side is fer the women, the other side fer the men.” Selina explained.
“I’ll grab a bucket and start fillin’ the tub.”

“I’ll help ye,” Arline said as she followed Selina
to the fire.

In a short time, the tub was filled with hot,
steamy water. Selina took a vial from one of the shelves and added a few drops
of scented oil to the water. Arline breathed in deeply, all at once feeling
both happy and relaxed. “Lilies?” she asked, recognizing the scent almost
immediately.

“Aye,” Selina said with a smile. “We collected
them from the loch in the summer. We have other scents ye can try later.
Lavender, blue bell, marigold. If ye have a scent ye like, I can make it fer
ye.”

Arline hurried out of her clothes, unable to wait
any longer to soak in the hot, steamy water. “Ye make them?”

“Aye, I do.” Selina smiled proudly. “I learned at
me mum’s hip!”

Arline draped her cloak, dress and chemise on the
back of a chair and anxiously stuck one toe into the tub. It was a bit hot, but
she was not about to complain. Her bones and muscles ached. Carefully, she slid
into the tub. Almost instantly, the water began to soothe her achy muscles and
tired bones. “Heavenly,” she murmured as the water worked its magic.

She sat soaking for a time, enjoying the sleepy
feeling as it crept in. She could have stayed here until the morning, as long
as the water was warmed.

Selina helped her to bathe and wash her hair. It
took some time before the water began to cool and Arline enjoyed every moment
of it.

Far too soon for her liking, she was scrubbed
clean from head to toe. The mud and muck was washed from her hair and she felt
better than she had in days.

As Selina was rinsing the last of the soap from
Arline’s hair, a young girl, came rushing into the bathing room.

“Selina!” the girl said, out of breath and
panting. “Mrs. McGregor needs ye straight away!” The girl sounded panicked.

“Is it Lily?” Arline asked as she hurried to rinse
off.

“Nay, m’lady,” the girl said curtly. She shot
Arline an odd look, as if Arline had no right to ask such a question.

“Och!” Selina said, patting Arline’s shoulders. “Never
ye mind it, m’lady. Mrs. McGregor is always fashin’ on about somethin’. She be
the head cook here and is always in a fit over one thing or another.” Selina
poured another pitcher of clean water over Arline’s hair.

“But, Selina, she said
now.
Ye are to drop
everythin’ and come see her immediately.” The girl cast a look of reproach
toward Arline. “Do ye ken how to bathe yerself?” the girl asked, her words
sharp and clipped.

“Of course I ken,” Arline answered calmly. She
could not figure out why this girl seemed so angry or bitter toward her.

“Come now, Selina,” the girl urged. “She’s fit to
be tied.”

Selina rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated
sigh. “Go tell her I’ll be right there.”

“
Now,
Selina,” the girl folded her arms
over her chest, looking quite upset with the both of them.

“Selina, go. I can make my way back to me room,”
Arline told her.

“Are ye certain, m’lady?” Selina asked.

“Aye. Just hand me a dryin’ cloth and I’ll be
fine.”

Selina nodded, grabbed a drying cloth from a peg
on the wall and handed it to Arline. “I’ll see what has Mrs. McGregor in such a
fit and I’ll come to help ye straight away. They should have put yer room to
rights by now.”

“Thank ye, Selina,” Arline said as she stood and
climbed from the tub. She wrapped the drying cloth around her shoulders and
smiled at Selina. “I do thank ye, fer all of yer help, Selina. Now go, before
ye get into trouble with Mrs. McGregor.”

Arline managed to find her way back to her room
after her bath. She was rather surprised to find that her room had not been
put
to rights
as Selina had promised. There was no fire in the heart and no
clean linens or blankets on the bed. It looked exactly as it had been left.

She dropped her cloak, dress, and chemise on the
bed and looked about the room. Had someone thought to at least bring the wood
and kindling, she could have started her own fire. There wasn’t so much as a
candle for her to light.

Mayhap Selina was having a difficult time finding
something suitable for her to wear. Arline felt certain that Selina would
appear at any moment, her arms filled with clean clothes and linens, and a
sensible explanation.

With no fire to help dry her hair, she felt cold.
The room, devoid of any warmth, left her with that old sense of longing. She
had lived a solitary existence in a castle full of people for many months and
this room left her feeling as though she were back at Garrick’s keep.

Drawing the drying cloth around her shoulders for
warmth, she explored the room. The drawers in the writing desk were empty, as
was the large cupboard that sat in the corner by the fireplace. She had the
same results with the trunk at the foot of the bed. Nothing to even hint that
anyone had ever lived in this room.

She sat in the chair at the writing desk and took
the drying cloth to her hair. Her skin turned to gooseflesh as she attempted to
dry her long locks without knotting them. After a time, the cool air coming in
through the open windows became far too chilly. She went to the bed and pulled
on her cloak. At least it was some form of warmth.

The longer she was made to wait the more
frustrated she became. She walked around the room, trying to keep warm, and
trying to convince herself that she had not been forgotten.

Rowan had been far too much of a gentleman to have
forgotten her, hadn’t he? Had he not made sure she had food aplenty and was
warm on their journey here? He had.

Mayhap something was wrong. Mayhap someone had
slipped another sleeping draught into the ale and someone was, at this very
moment, making their way out of the keep with Lily! She was about to rush out
of the room and below stairs when the door flew open. At first, she felt a
great sense of relief until she saw who it was that was entering.

“Lady Beatrice,” Arline said unable to mask her
surprise.

Beatrice entered the room in a great hurry,
shutting the door behind her before hurrying to Arline. The woman looked
positively beside herself with worry. “Lady Arline!” Beatrice exclaimed, taking
Arline’s hands in hers. “There is no’ much time to explain, but I need ye to
come with me!”

Arline’s first thought was that something was
wrong with Lily. Her heart began to pound against her breast. “Is it Lily?” she
asked worriedly.

“Nay, Lily is in good care,” Beatrice said as she
tried to pull Arline to the door.

Arline would not move until she knew what had
brought the woman here in such a frenzied state. “What is the matter, Lady
Beatrice? Is the keep under attack?”

Beatrice stopped pulling on Arline and looked over
her shoulder at the door. “Nay, the keep is no’ under attack. ’Tis ye that I
worry over! Please, I beg ye to come with me. I promise I’ll explain meself,
but I need ye to hurry.”

Arline stood her ground. “I’ll no’ leave this room
until ye tell me what is the matter.”

Beatrice let out a frustrated breath and took
Arline’s hands again. “’Tis Rowan.”

Arline’s brow drew into a knot. “Rowan? Is he ill?
Injured?” What on earth could have happened to him in such a short amount of
time?

Beatrice shook her head. “Nay, he’s no’ injured.
And I suppose one could say he’s ill, but ’tis an illness of his own doin’.”

“I don’t understand,” Arline said. The woman
wasn’t making any sense at all.

“Rowan has fallen back into the bottle, me lady.”

Rowan? A drunkard?
Nay, she could not
believe that.

Beatrice gave Arline’s hands a gentle squeeze.
Worry was etched across her beautiful face and she seemed quite sincere. “Lady
Arline, I ken it be hard to believe, but Rowan, he has no’ been well since his
Kate died. He’ll go months without so much as a drop of anything stronger than
weak wine. Then something happens and he takes up the whisky. Och! When he’s
no’ drinkin’ he is the kindest man ye’d ever meet! But when he’s in the bottle?
Och! He’s not himself. He turns mean and angry.”

Arline felt her heart crack. The poor man! He
still grieved over losing his wife and that grief led him to drink. “I should
go to him!” Arline said and started toward the door. Beatrice stopped her.

“Nay!” Beatrice cried out. “Ye must stay away from
him!”

Rowan had done so much for her. How could she in
good conscience leave him alone in his time of need? “Mayhap if I talk to
him--”

Beatrice stopped her. “Nay, ye don’t understand.
’Tis
ye
that he is mad at.”

“Me?” That made absolutely no sense. Arline had
done nothing to earn his ire.

“He is below stairs, in his library, drinkin’. I
had to leave him to come warn ye. I dunna ken why he is so angry with ye, me
lady, but he is. Out of his mind. He keeps calling ye--” she paused as if the
words were to painful to say.

“Calling me what?” Arline wasn’t sure she wanted
to know the answer.