Dawn Annis by Highlander's Ransom

herself be pampered. She’d had a week of exhausting pace, frustration, worry, and tension. She gingerly stepped into the bath and slowly sank down into the restorative depths and let out a low moan of pleasure.
    Merta laid out nightclothes for Kate. “I’ll be back to help ye dress and apply some salve to yer bruised face.”
    She took Kate’s kirtle and underthings and left the room quietly, shutting the door behind her. Kate soaked in the glorious hot water until it started to cool. She reached over and grabbed the soap from the stool sitting next to the tub and held it up to her nose. The smell of lye was pungent. But it is soap, she thought, and began with her toes. She worked the lather all the way up including her waist-length hair, concentrating on massaging her scalp. She washed her hair twice to remove the grit and dust. After rinsing and feeling like a lady once again, she climbed out of the tub and dried herself with the thick bath sheet then put on the gown and robe and sat down next to the hearth. Merta found her, brushing out the tangles in her curling hair and drying it by the cheery fire.
    “Aye, m’lady, ‘tis a beautiful picture ye be making and that’s the God’s honest truth,” Merta said as she waddled into room, her apple cheeks more so because of her toothless smile. She set a tray of food on the table near a pair of chairs in front of the hearth and arranged the dishes.
    “I had hair about yer color once in my life. Not any longer.” She pointed to her hair, a faded red washed with grey. Merta laughed and shrugged her round shoulders. “Well now, let’s be seeing about those bruises ye got there.”
    She went over to Kate and led her over to a chair by the fire. She dipped a finger into the bowl she held and started to smear the contents onto Kathryn’s face.
    “My good lord, what is that? It smells horrid.” Turning, she saw the hurt look come across Merta’s face.
    “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you. I couldn’t possibly put your salve anywhere near my nose or I will truly be sick to my stomach,” Kate said, softening her tone.
    “‘Tis cow urine. Boiled down. Will heal yer face quick like. I mix it with a bit of sheep fat. Helps it stick,” she said with a quick nod and a wink.
    “I appreciate it. I do. No, thank you,” Kate said, placing her hand on Merta’s arm to soften her words. “They are healing. I am sure they seem much worse than they are. I think in a short while they will be healed.”
    “Well, I‘m not one to be talking out of turn, mind ye, the MacGregor is not going to be liking it. He’s already upset Iain beat ye in the first place much less to be reminded of it until them bruises heal. And that’s the God’s honest truth.” Merta nodded with a frown. “Well, if ye won’t let me put the salve on yer face” Merta shrugged. “Then let’s get some food in ye. Ye must be hungry.”
    After a meal of cheese and fresh bread, Kate was feeling well satisfied and her eyes drooped. With the hot bath and the good food, her body relaxed.
    Merta stood up and moved over to Kate. “Let’s get ye to bed.”
    Kate allowed herself to be led to the bed. She lay down, sinking into the bed’s comforting softness. Merta placed a quilt over her. As she shifted down into the bed and found a comfortable spot, Kate toyed with what she had heard.
    “Merta, she said earnestly, “Iain didn’t beat me. I fell in the coach. My feet came out from beneath me. My face and hands were bruised. I hit the side of the seat. Indeed,” she said at Merta’s skeptical look. “I fell when Iain was taking over the coach. I tried to open the door and it slammed shut and I fell.”
    Merta listened with her hands on her hips. “To my way of thinking, that’s the same as beating ye. He had no business taking ye in the first place.”
    Merta put her hand out to quell Kate’s protest. “Aye, the kidnappin' and ransom idea, plain foolishness if ye are asking me. Nobody is