pleasure, my lady.”
“Your wickedness knows no bounds, Millane,” she chided, though she wondered how one would go about doing such a thing.
The maid only laughed and motioned to the scullery girls hovering outside the door. They marched in and poured hot water in the wooden basin until Millane appeared satisfied. Dismissing them quickly, she dragged the bathing screen forth, arranging the privacy barrier around the tub and hearth, blocking any wind and trapping the fire’s heat. She hung a wrap and a square of white linen from pegs on the screen. Stirling rose from the bed and plucked a glass bottle from the cluttered top of the chifferobe. She removed the stopper and inhaled the familiar scent of lavender.
“I shall do that, my lady.” Millane took the bottle from her unresisting fingers and poured a generous amount into the steaming water. “After you bathe, I will rub some lavender oil into your skin. The softness will please Lord Quinn.”
Stirling slanted a look at her maid, wondering how she knew what would please the dark Norman invader. Had the brazen wench attempted to bed him? Aghast at the small flare of jealousy, she thrust the thought away and shook her head adamantly. “You will not. I may wed with him this day, but I do not want him.”
“But, my lady, surely --”
“Nay,” Stirling snapped, then gentled her tone at the girl’s puzzled expression. “I am his boon, Millane and nothing more.” She grabbed the hem of her nightrail, tugging the billowy material over her head. She handed the gown to the maid and shivered as if a cold wind swept through the room. The servant rushed to pull the leather over the window, securing it with a length of rope to a nearby iron bar.
“Why your father did not install glass panes, I’ll never know.” she muttered when she stood at Stirling ’s side again.
“For protection, you goose. The archers must have quick access should enemy forces attack.”
“And what of the ones who climb the walls in the dead of night and murder us in our beds?”
“No one can climb this high undetected, Millane.”
“You do.”
Stirling frowned at her cheeky maid, annoyed by the girl’s continued innuendo and impudence. While ‘twas not unusual for Millane to speak so freely, a precedent set between them years earlier, today every word, every knowing smile grated on her nerves. She drew in a breath, attempting to quell the restlessness plaguing her. “Enough. ‘Tis not for other ears Millane. Especially now with him here. Should my night jaunts be discovered, ‘twill be disastrous.”
“Aye, my lady, you can trust me.” The girl smiled softly and ushered Stirling to the basin.
“I always have.” Stirling stepped into the tub, a sigh of pleasure escaping her as the luxurious warmth surrounded her.
“Shall I wash you, my lady?” Millane held a bar of lightly scented soap.
“Nay, I will do it.” Stirling reached for the bar. “Leave me. I will let someone know when to come for the basin.”
“I will return to dress you, my lady.” Millane curtsied and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.
Stirling released a breath she didn’t know she’d held and leaned her head back against the rim of the tub, cushioned by a linen towel. Stretching her legs out, she gently moved them back and forth, luxuriating in the feel of the water lapping against her skin. Allowing the warmth of the bath to seep into her, she tried to force out the tension and uncertainty plaguing her. But ‘twas no use. Too many questions remained unanswered. Dangerous questions. Why did Tristan scale the castle walls? What was he after? And who did he tell she would not cooperate? And what sort of animal saved her from Tristan? True, the beast frightened her, but did not harm her. It sought only to protect her. Most peculiar.
Stirling frowned as she sat up and lathered her arms, another thought entering her mind. Perchance Tristan knew the location of the hidden papers.
“Your wickedness knows no bounds, Millane,” she chided, though she wondered how one would go about doing such a thing.
The maid only laughed and motioned to the scullery girls hovering outside the door. They marched in and poured hot water in the wooden basin until Millane appeared satisfied. Dismissing them quickly, she dragged the bathing screen forth, arranging the privacy barrier around the tub and hearth, blocking any wind and trapping the fire’s heat. She hung a wrap and a square of white linen from pegs on the screen. Stirling rose from the bed and plucked a glass bottle from the cluttered top of the chifferobe. She removed the stopper and inhaled the familiar scent of lavender.
“I shall do that, my lady.” Millane took the bottle from her unresisting fingers and poured a generous amount into the steaming water. “After you bathe, I will rub some lavender oil into your skin. The softness will please Lord Quinn.”
Stirling slanted a look at her maid, wondering how she knew what would please the dark Norman invader. Had the brazen wench attempted to bed him? Aghast at the small flare of jealousy, she thrust the thought away and shook her head adamantly. “You will not. I may wed with him this day, but I do not want him.”
“But, my lady, surely --”
“Nay,” Stirling snapped, then gentled her tone at the girl’s puzzled expression. “I am his boon, Millane and nothing more.” She grabbed the hem of her nightrail, tugging the billowy material over her head. She handed the gown to the maid and shivered as if a cold wind swept through the room. The servant rushed to pull the leather over the window, securing it with a length of rope to a nearby iron bar.
“Why your father did not install glass panes, I’ll never know.” she muttered when she stood at Stirling ’s side again.
“For protection, you goose. The archers must have quick access should enemy forces attack.”
“And what of the ones who climb the walls in the dead of night and murder us in our beds?”
“No one can climb this high undetected, Millane.”
“You do.”
Stirling frowned at her cheeky maid, annoyed by the girl’s continued innuendo and impudence. While ‘twas not unusual for Millane to speak so freely, a precedent set between them years earlier, today every word, every knowing smile grated on her nerves. She drew in a breath, attempting to quell the restlessness plaguing her. “Enough. ‘Tis not for other ears Millane. Especially now with him here. Should my night jaunts be discovered, ‘twill be disastrous.”
“Aye, my lady, you can trust me.” The girl smiled softly and ushered Stirling to the basin.
“I always have.” Stirling stepped into the tub, a sigh of pleasure escaping her as the luxurious warmth surrounded her.
“Shall I wash you, my lady?” Millane held a bar of lightly scented soap.
“Nay, I will do it.” Stirling reached for the bar. “Leave me. I will let someone know when to come for the basin.”
“I will return to dress you, my lady.” Millane curtsied and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.
Stirling released a breath she didn’t know she’d held and leaned her head back against the rim of the tub, cushioned by a linen towel. Stretching her legs out, she gently moved them back and forth, luxuriating in the feel of the water lapping against her skin. Allowing the warmth of the bath to seep into her, she tried to force out the tension and uncertainty plaguing her. But ‘twas no use. Too many questions remained unanswered. Dangerous questions. Why did Tristan scale the castle walls? What was he after? And who did he tell she would not cooperate? And what sort of animal saved her from Tristan? True, the beast frightened her, but did not harm her. It sought only to protect her. Most peculiar.
Stirling frowned as she sat up and lathered her arms, another thought entering her mind. Perchance Tristan knew the location of the hidden papers.
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