It wasn’t that much different than getting caught in the rain. Arista let out the breath she’d been holding. Another burst of fragrance filled her lungs, and then Becky’s fingers were on her scalp. As Arista was not used to being touched, the sensation was both uncomfortable and luxurious.
The warmth of the water made her arms grow heavy. She let them fall away from her knees and they floated, suspended, next to her. She watched them with a sort of detached amusement. A sigh escaped, and she gave in and closed her eyes. Becky’s fingers worked the lather into Arista’s short hair with practiced ease.
The remaining tension in her body floated away as Becky massaged Arista’s scalp. A languid calm settled over her. By the time Becky poured two more pitchers of water over her head, Arista could have fallen asleep. Baths might not be a terrible thing after all. Becky handed Arista the cloth when she was finished. It was all very different than washing one body part at a time with a damp rag.
“Ready?” Becky stood next to the bath with a larger cloth.
No, she wasn’t ready, but the water grew cooler by the minute and Arista’s teeth were beginning to chatter. Her legs shook as she stood and stepped over the edge. Becky immediately wrapped the cloth around Arista. Goose bumps sprang up along Arista’s arms.
Becky took another cloth and vigorously rubbed it up and down Arista’s arms. A bit of heat returned and Arista’s teeth stopped chattering. Becky grabbed a robe from the peg on the screen. The bright red silk had exotic-looking tigers stitched in orange thread, rearing back with their mouths wide open. Exactly what she pictured a brothel girl wearing. The robe came only to her knees. She tugged at the hem, but it would go no lower.
“There are clothes in the wardrobe,” Arista said. Hopefully something more tasteful than the robe. It would probably be a low-cut scarlet dress. Maybe Becky could find an errand boy and borrow some clothing for Arista to wear?
As Becky hurried to the wardrobe, Arista hung back, not comfortable enough to step out from behind the screen dressed in only a short robe. The door was locked, but she did not doubt that Wild had a master key.
When Becky returned, Arista braced herself for some monstrosity posing as a dress, but the garment Becky was holding seemed quite plain. The dark blue muslin material had been cut and sewn into a flattering and demure shape. The neckline was lined with lace, and not indecent at all. In fact, it covered more than any of the dresses she’d worn as Lady A.
A wide darker sash was wound around the waist. Not what the working girls would wear; it covered too much skin for them. A maid, maybe? Becky hung it on the peg and set down a pile of white underclothes, then left a pair of shoes on the floor. Not a single piece of the clothing screamed whore.
“Would you like me to help you get dressed?” Becky asked.
Arista picked through the pile of underclothes. Normally she wore only a shift under her man’s shirt and jacket. Not even Lady A wore quite so many things. There had to be a half dozen different pieces here. She’d never get them all on correctly.
She could only nod.
Becky knew exactly what went where, though, and in only a few minutes Arista had on a chemise, a petticoat, silk stockings held up by lacy garters, and a corset laced not too loosely around her middle.
“All this when a simple shift would do just as well under a dress,” Arista mumbled. The bones in the corset forced her back straight, which in turn forced her chest out. No one would mistake her for anything but a girl.
Becky lifted the dress over Arista’s head and slid it down, shaking it as she did so that the material fell into place perfectly. After a few tugs here and there, Becky tied the sash in the back.
When Arista turned around, Becky’s eyes opened wide and her fingers pressed against her lips. “Oh, miss. You look beautiful.” She dashed a stray tear away, then hurried to hang up the robe.
Heat flooded Arista’s cheeks. She felt more exposed now than while standing naked at the tub. She lifted the hem of her dress to her waist and secured her knife to her thigh, and finally felt more like herself. More in control.
Now she was ready to go and make a deal with the devil.
Arista only had to wait ten minutes before the maid, Cecily, returned. “If you’ll come down to the garden, Mr. Wild will join you, miss.” Cecily curtsied and motioned for Arista. “Follow me, please.”
Arista took Becky’s hand and squeezed. “I’ll be back before you know it, and everything will be taken care of.”
Becky’s eye shone with unshed tears. She gripped Arista’s hand tight. “What will you do, miss?”
“I’m going to give him what he wants, but on my terms. Now lock the door behind me.” Arista let go of her friend’s hand and turned away.