Sitting up abruptly, Saidh glanced around the room, but every bit of evidence that the man had ever been there was now gone. His clothes no longer lay on the fur by the fireplace. Neither did the linen they’d left there last night. It was back on the bed, and covering her, she realized. But he’d also removed any evidence of the food and drink he’d gone down to fetch from the kitchens after their first time together. They’d eaten the food on the fur in front of the fireplace, or at least they’d started to, but had got somewhat sidetracked and had ended up with him tossing up her skirts on the fur . . . well, if she’d been wearing a skirt he’d have tossed it up, but she hadn’t.
After that, they’d returned to the bed and Saidh had cuddled up against him and drifted off to sleep, only to wake some time later to his caressing her into a fever and then thrusting into her again.
Saidh dropped back on the bed with a little satisfied sigh. While the first time had been terrible—at least the breaching had—it had much improved after that. She’d still felt a twinge of pain a time or two as they’d mated, but Greer had driven her to such heights of passion before getting to that point that it had been easily ignored.
Just the memory of the things he’d done to her made a tingle burst to life at the apex of her thighs and Saidh closed her eyes on the bed coverings overhead, allowing herself to drown in the memories. After a moment, she slipped her fingers under the sheet and furs to touch herself tentatively, curious to know what he experienced when he did it.
It was actually the first time she’d ever touched herself there and Saidh was quite surprised at how soft and slippery she was. It didn’t feel the same when she touched herself, though. She missed Greer’s presence, the feel of his warm body against her, the intoxicating scent of him, the taste of him as he covered her mouth with his own.
Suddenly wondering where he was and what he was doing, Saidh withdrew her hand, and pushed the linens and furs aside to leap out of bed. She rushed to her trunk then, the only one she’d brought, and began to pull out and examine the few gowns she’d brought away with her from Sinclair, trying to decide what to wear. For the first time in her life what she wore mattered to her. She wanted to look pretty for Greer. Of course, that being the case, it would be a time when she’d left most of her gowns elsewhere.
She was muttering to herself with exasperation as she discarded gown after gown when a knock sounded at the door. Stilling, she glanced toward it with surprise, and then—thinking it might be Greer—she straightened and rushed to it, a smile breaking on her face. Fortunately, she retained enough good sense not to open the door wide, but to crack it open and peer around it, keeping her nudity hidden behind the wooden panel.
Much to her disappointment it was not Greer, but a servant at the door. Saidh stared at the woman blankly. “Aye?”
“M’laird ordered a bath fer yer pleasure,” the maid said, offering a smile and curtsy.
“Oh,” Saidh murmured, peering past the woman to the small army of servants behind her. Two bore a huge tub, and half a dozen others carried pails full of water. Her smile softened at Greer’s thoughtfulness, and then she pushed the door closed, shouting, “Jest one minute.”
Rushing back to the bed, she dragged the top sheet off to wrap around her body. Saidh started to turn away then, but her eye caught on a large stain of blood on the bottom of the bed. It was where he’d first taken her and breached her maidenhead, she realized with a grimace, and quickly threw the furs over it before yelling, “Come in.”
The door opened at once, and Saidh whirled, and then dropped to sit on top of the furs covering the stain as the servants began to bustle in with their burdens. They were quick about their business, and filed out of the room within moments, leaving a steaming bath in their wake. All of them left but the woman who had greeted Saidh on opening the door. She merely pushed the door closed behind the others and then turned to smile at Saidh.
“Lady MacDonnell said ye must ha’e left yer maid at Sinclair since ye arrived without one. She suggested I might take her place while ye’re here,” she announced and then added quickly, “If ’tis all right with ye?”
“Oh.” Saidh hesitated. She’d happily made do without a maid this past year but she could hardly admit that. She was quite sure Lady MacDonnell would be horrified at her lack. However, she wasn’t pleased with the idea of having one again. As much as she’d loved Erin, the maid had driven Saidh mad with her constant attempts to make her more a proper lady. She’d fuss forever over her hair, fiddling and fixing it into silly little ringlets and whatnot. As for the bath, the woman had been nothing but a bother there, wanting to fill it with all sorts of herbs, spices and flowers to make her “smell sweet” and then trying to wash her arms and legs for her as if she couldn’t manage the task on her own.
Saidh did not mind help rinsing the soap out of her hair, but other than that, wanted no assistance when it came to bathing. She didn’t feel like she could refuse the offer of a borrowed maid, though. Sighing, she stood and said, “I’d appreciate help rinsing the soap out o’ me hair after I’ve washed it, but other than that need little in the way of assistance.”
“As ye wish, m’lady,” the woman said easily.
Relaxing a little, Saidh nodded and walked to the steaming bath.
“What is yer name?” she asked as she dropped the sheet and stepped into the tub.
“Joyce, m’lady,” the woman said as she retrieved soap and a scrap of linen to offer to her.
“Thank ye,” Saidh murmured taking the items.
“Yer welcome.” Joyce started to turn away, but paused when she noted Saidh running the soap over the linen. She hesitated briefly, but then said gently, “It works out best if ye wash yer hair first. Then the water is fresh fer rinsing out the soap. As well it will dry a bit while ye wash the rest o’ ye.”
“Oh.” Saidh peered at the soapy linen with a frown. Erin had always tried to get her to wash her hair first, but had never offered an explanation as to why so she’d waved away the suggestion. But what Joyce said made sense. She supposed ’twas easier to rinse yer hair in water that was not already soapy, and allowing it those extra moments to dry before getting out would be helpful too.
Smiling tentatively, Joyce asked, “Shall I take the linen and set it aside while ye wash yer hair?”