Page 8 of Unmasking the Silver Heiress
It was the first time in over a week that Nell felt truly warm, all the way down to her bones.
She had been ushered into an armchair at the back wall of a large bedroom, where a fire was promptly coaxed into a roaring largesse. The servants milled around her, bringing in a porcelain tub that looked like it could hold three of her, and transporting both her suitcase and the stolen one into the room.
"When will my husband be joining me?" Nell asked, eyeing the steam rising from the tub. She wanted to languish in that water, but the idea of Atlas walking in and seeing her nude was not one she was quite ready to entertain. At least, not yet.
"Your husband, ma'am?" a maid asked with a frown. "The master said it was only you staying for the evening. Should we be expecting another guest?"
Nell opened her mouth to respond and then closed it again, color rising in her cheeks. "No," she said thinly. "I am just very tired. I got confused for a moment."
The maid tilted her head with a little smile, her wide blue eyes apparently suspecting nothing of the scandalous truth. She looked a little older than Nell herself, full figured and curly haired, with wisps of honey blonde escaping from her cap around her ears. She turned and bustled over to the luggage to begin the process of unpacking. "Travel addles my brains too," she said cheerily. "But why leave London at all, when everything you need is right here? Well, aside from your husband, I suppose!"
"Leave the brown one be," Nell said quickly, gripping the arm of the chair as she watched the maid hesitate over the two valises. "The blue one is mine, though there isn't much inside. Two dresses that should be laundered, plus the one I'm wearing now. If you wouldn't mind just laying out a shift for me to sleep in and pressing the last clean gown for use tomorrow, that would be perfect."
"Right, I can do that, ma'am, no problem," she said, swiping up the blue bag and carrying it to the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed. "My name is Sarah, if you're wondering. I've been with Mr. Atlas for some years now, but you're the first guest we've ever entertained in my time here. Might I ask your name, ma'am, just as to know what to call you?"
"Eleanor," she replied. "Or Nell, if you prefer."
Sarah bit her lip, a dimple appearing in her left cheek. "I could hardly call you by your Christian name, ma’am! The master would have my head!"
Nell hesitated, uncertain if her husband had deliberately concealed their marriage from his staff or if this was a simple oversight. Perhaps he remembered her concern over the gossip reaching her family before they did, and was acting in her personal interest. Yes, that must be it.
"You may call me Mrs. Applegate, if you like," she decided, erring on the side of caution.
"And are you to be with us long, Mrs. Applegate?" she asked politely. “I will be better able to accommodate your comfort if I have ample time to prepare.”
"I can barely keep track of my home from one day to the next, Sarah," Nell said with what she hoped was a friendly quirk of her lips. "A woman's position is ever changing."
"Truer words," Sarah agreed with a little chuckle.
Another duo of servants with steaming water came in and dumped their bounty into the tub. They paused this time and gave Nell a little bow each, as though to silently indicate that this was the last of the water for her bath.
Sarah looked up at them with her brow furrowed, impatience on her face. "The lady will be needing towels and soaps, of course," she said. "And a new sponge."
The two men exchanged a glance between them, but did not argue, turning on their heels to see to this additional task. All the while, Sarah shook her head, muttering about the uselessness of men.
She had the dirty dresses bundled up under her arm and Nell's last clean shift spread on the bed, ready to be donned en route to blissful slumber in an actual bed.
"We have food coming up shortly," Sarah told her. "I will bring it in personally. Do you require a privacy screen for your bathing? Any particular toiletries?"
"No, thank you, Sarah," Nell answered, blinking at the luxury being put on offer to her. "What's here is more than enough. I am going to wash my hair tonight, however, and I do not trust myself to stay awake until it is fully dry. Might you aid me in braids or rag curls before I sleep?"
Sarah nodded, her pink cheeks flushing with pleasure. "I would love to, Ms. Applegate. Let me get these dresses to laundry and bring your food up. Feel free to hop into the tub as soon as the gents bring your soaps and towels. No one else will be walking in to surprise you."
Nell nodded, her legs aching as she pushed to her feet. How on earth did one end up just as sore from a lack of movement as from heavy exercise? She hadn't felt this stiff since a very long uphill climb during a visit to Edinburgh some years ago. Hopefully a nice, hot soak would be just as tonic now as it was then.
The two male servants returned with a selection of oils and soaps for her to choose from, a handsome yellow sponge that must have been imported from the Mediterranean, a pot of some sort of moisturizing cream, and two fluffy white towels to wrap herself in when she finished her bath.
Later, it would seem to Nell that as soon as the door closed behind those two servants, that she vanished from her position by the fire and appeared, somehow immediately stripped of her clothing, in the searing embrace of the bathtub.
Of course, evidence that she had crossed this distance by human means was evident, both from her footprints on the carpet and her clothing strewn on the floor, but as she sank down fully into the bath, embraced by the floating dots of rose oil that gave it a lovely scent, she couldn't be bothered to conjure up any memory but the present, submerged like a sea nymph in a blissful cocoon of perfect warmth.
* * *
Morning arrived far too quickly.
Nell would have loved to stay in this absurdly large, wonderfully lush bed for days, until she felt strictly human again. But alas, she was the one who requested to become involved in her aunt's affairs, and so now she must face that duty head-on.
She had sat by the fire after her bath, her eyelids drooping as Sarah eased a wide-toothed comb through her hair. It was no surprise that it was full of snarls and knots, after the way she'd mistreated it on the road, but Sarah's gentle fingers and cheery rambling about topics Nell could barely focus upon was soothing enough that she didn't mind the process of having them worked out.
