Page 145 of Highlanders for the Holidays
"Connor had it built a few years ago, after he returned from Edinburgh. Before, we were either bathin' in the loch or in the kitchens. The loch be too cold in winter and the kitchens be far too busy. Now we have a bathin' house with six tubs!"
Her excitement was contagious and Onnleigh was eager to see it for herself. “Thank ye, kindly, Bridgett. I shall go get me clean dress.”
“Would ye like me to take Nola while ye bathe?”
The offer was too good to turn down. “That be awfully kind of ye. I promise, I’ll nae tarry long.”
Handing her daughter to Bridgett with much gratitude, Onnleigh raced back to her room to retrieve her blue dress and was soon off in search of the bath house.
* * *
She found it easily. Thankfully, ’twas empty. As she stepped inside, a young maid of no more than ten and five was sitting on a little stool pulling on woolens. When she caught sight of Onnleigh, she tilted her blonde head to one side. "Who be ye?" she asked.
"Onnleigh. I be takin' care of Connor's babe," she told her nervously.
"I heard about ye," she replied with a smile. “I be KateingenDonald. Do ye need help?"
“'Twould be verra kind of ye," Onnleigh answered.
Kate smiled and led her toward a large pot with steaming water that sat over a healthy fire in the fireplace in the corner of the room. She chose the tub closest to the pot and began to scoop out buckets to fill it.
“There be soaps and dryin’ cloths and such just there,” Kate explained with a nod toward shelves on the other side of the room. Hesitantly, Onnleigh went to the shelves. Drying clothes filled the lower two shelves. The scents from the various jars of soap tickled at her nose. She’d been making her own soap since she was a little girl, but never had the luxury of adding scents to them. Picking up one jar at a time, she took tentative sniffs until she found one that she liked most. ’Twas a blend of marigolds and anemone, quite pleasing.
“Are ye certain I can use these?” Onnleigh asked.
“Aye, they be fer whoever needs them. Me mum makes the soaps herself, ye ken. If ye ever wish to have some to keep in yer room, just come see her. She’ll sell them to ye at a fair price. But these are free for all.”
Connor had mentioned she’d be paid for caring for Nola. Her heart felt lighter suddenly, with hope for a better future. In an instant, she decided one of her first purchases would be some of the fine soaps and later, when she’d saved up enough money, she could even afford a new dress.
“Yer bath be ready,” Kate told her.
Onnleigh set the items on a stool by the tub. “Thank ye, kindly, Kate.”
The girl smiled warmly again. “Call out if ye need anythin’,” she said as she left Onnleigh alone.
* * *
Once Kate left, Onnleigh quickly stripped out of her dirty clothes, undid her braid, and sank into the steamy water. She lay with her head against the edge of the tub, enjoying the luxuriously hot water and the way it instantly relaxed her.Be it a sin to enjoy somethin’ so simple?she wondered. Remembering she’d promised Bridgett she would not tarry long, she dipped the washing cloth into the water and grabbed the jar of soap. She lathered and scrubbed every square inch of her body before setting about to wash her hair. The wonderful sensation of scrubbing her scalp clean felt so good, she washed it again.
Taking in a deep breath, she ducked her head under the water to rinse out the soap, running her fingers through the long strands, working out every last bit of soap. When she rose, breaking through the sudsy water, she let out a gasp of surprise, for she had company.
Three young women—only one of whom she had a vague recollection of ever seeing—were standing next to the tub. A bolt of fear stabbed her stomach. Sputtering, she wiped water from her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing.
“So ye be OnnleighingenGrueber,” the one closest to her declared, her voice dripping with something ugly and untoward. She wore a beautiful dark red gown, her brown hair coiled elegantly around her head.
Onnleigh did not respond.
“Ye may try to wash the stench from ye, but ’twill do ye no good. Ye be as much a thief as yer da.”
Anger rose in a flash. “I be no thief,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ve nae stolen anythin’.”
The brunette quirked a pretty brow. “Ye’ve stolen Ronald from Bridgett and Connor from me,” she said pointedly. “How many men does one whore need?”
Confusion blended with anger. “I only met Ronald a few moments ago. I’ve nae stolen him from anyone. And Connor—”
“Connor bemine,ye stupid wench! Ye move in here and turn his head with yer red hair and charms and now he says he’ll nae marry me as we planned.”
Margaret.This had to be Helen’s daughter, for she was just as haughty, just as spiteful. None of what she said was true. She was no thief, no whore and to be called such made her all the more angry. “I only be here to care for his babe,” Onnleigh told her.
