Chapter 5
“Hurry now! We’ve got a lot of work to do,” Mary says as she takes my hand.
“Come now, dear, we’ve got to prepare you for dinner. The hall will be full of folks that want to meet ye.” And as I come full awake, the room again fills with a barrage of women. Each has a purpose: one to tend to the fire, one to bathe me, one to wash my hair. I’m at once embarrassed by all the attention and enjoying the pampering.
The ritual of primping in the seventeenth century is much the same as primping in 2017. Once Lady MacGregor gets my reluctant consent to prepare for the evening’s festivities, a flurry of activity ensues. I’m all but thrown into a large tub in my room. Two baths in one day; it’s quite decadent.
The women set the tub in front of the fireplace, and add fresh rose petals to the water. They must have picked them from Lady MacGregor’s garden. As I soak in front of a room full of women, they choose gowns they think suit me, often citing my eye color or complexion. It’s as if I’m not even in the room.
I sigh as I rest my chin on my bent knees. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I close my eyes and think about what I’ve left behind—my job and my apartment. My friends will be worried about me. What will they do when they find my shoes and clutch on the bench by the fountain? As the heat of the water washes away my melancholy, Claire makes an appearance. Taking a seat on the bed, she looks over the dress selections.
Wonderful warm water is poured over my head. Having my hair washed is indeed divine. I delight in the warm water sluicing over my skin. Over my shoulders and between my breasts, the heat teases my already sensitive skin. My nipples pebble, and I shiver—not with cold, but with anticipation. My thoughts drift to Angus. Thinking of his lips blazing a path over my skin makes me ache. I imagine the sensation of his stubble scraping my skin as his fingers dig into my thighs and it makes me squirm. I wriggle in the tub sending ripples through the water. Though I’m in a room full of women, my hand reaches down my stomach and lingers there as the maid rinses my hair again. My fingers tingle and twitch and glide down between my legs to find that place that aches.
I need something, or in this case someone, to extinguish that yearning deep inside of me. No, that’s not entirely true. Not just anyone can relieve me. There is only one man I want, and I’m fairly certain that having him once won’t be enough.
It wouldn’t be a gentle coupling. He would destroy me with each kiss. Each punishing thrust a reminder that he owns me. As reluctant as I am to admit that, he does. And what’s more confusing is that I want this. My answer would be Yes, I’m yours. I want him to bind me to him.
“Katherine, your face is awfully rosy. Is the water too hot for you?”
My hand stills, and I open my eyes to a roomful of women staring curiously at me. I must be a sight.
“Oh, no. It’s fine. I’m just thinking about tonight.” Understatement of the year.
Brenda comes to stand by the tub and holds out towel signaling the end of my bath. Carefully and no longer self-conscious that a roomful of women tend to me, I step into the arms of the maid.
“Lady Katherine, yer as tall as a man,” one of the maids comments as she works the towel down my legs.
“Hush, Brenda,” Mary scolds, “Mind your manners.”
“It’s okay. I am tall. I like it.” I smile at Brenda to let her know I’m not insulted.
“There’s a painting hanging in the Green Lady’s room at Crathes. You’ve the same look of her, fair skin, rosy cheeks, green eyes. Of course, you’ve got gold in your hair from the sun and she’s got dark locks.” Brenda takes my measure as she finishes drying me.
I’m then dried and dressed in a light cotton robe as the women decide on my dress in the end, my “personal stylists” choose a lovely peach silk. As I’m dressed, I can’t help but notice how snug it is.
“Um, ladies, is this going to fit?” I don’t see how they’re going to get this dress on me. It defies all laws of physics.
“Certainly, now stand up straight and hold on,” Mary says matter-of-factly.
“Hold on? Wait, hold on to what?” And as I’m instructed to hold onto the post of the bed, the laces of the corset are pulled so tight I’m sure I hear one of my ribs snap.
“Holy Jesus!” I cry, and the room full of women erupts in laughter. Glad I can amuse them. Rubbing my middle and trying not to breathe, which isn’t difficult considering how tight the dress is, I look down at myself. I have to admit, it’s a gorgeous dress. A confection of peach silk over a cream slip; it does wonderful things for my figure. As long as I don’t need to breathe the rest of the night, I’ll be fine.
Really, are you sure this dress is decent?” I turn to the ladies in my room and they smile at me.
“Hush now, yer lovely. You’ll be fighting them off with a stick.” And Mary laughs, “I heard ye beat Angus with a wee stick.”
“Is nothing sacred?” I murmur.
“Oh, you’ve caused quite a stir, Katherine.” Claire hands me a glass of wine, and I take a hearty sip as Margaret surveys me in the dress. As Claire admires her handiwork, the drink leaves a warm trail down my throat and settles my nerves. As I pace around the room of women, my thoughts wander to life outside in the courtyard. Above the yard and ever vigilant, there are armed guards on the wall equipped with bows and arrows. Below, I find massive horses towing carts filled with hay and goods to be sold or traded. Off in the distance and never far are the green hills: the rugged beauty that is Scotland herself.
I imagine Angus walking toward me through the heather and over the cobbled stones. His eyes devour me. My breath quickens and my body tingles in anticipation. Bringing my glass to my lips, I indulge in more of the castle stock, and I realize that I’m very warm all of a sudden. Whether it’s the wine or thoughts of Angus, I lean out of the window slightly to catch a bit of fresh air.
I hear my name called in the background by an annoyed maid.
“Katherine Cameron!” Mary admonishes, and pulls me back from the window from which I was leaning, “be careful or you’ll fall to yer death.”
“Sorry Mary,” I reply and hold out my glass for more of the lovely wine. “May I have some more wine, please?”
“Only if ye promise not to lean out any more windows,” Mary says. “Now sit and be still.” Mary motions for one of the maids to refill my glass. I could get used to this.
“Lady Katherine, you’re awfully flushed. Is it the wine or were ye thinking on a certain man, perhaps?” Brenda says as she combs the tangles from my wet hair.
“Angus?” I say staring into my empty glass, “I wasn’t thinking of him. Just admiring the view.”
“I didna say his name, but now that you mention it,” Brenda’s voice laced with amusement, “there’s certainly been talk of you and the warrior since your arrival.”
“Me and Angus? I don’t see why,” I say. “He’s very handsome but surely he has many admirers.”
“Aye, that he has lass,” Mary chimes in, “but none have caught his eye. None until recently, of course.” She smiles as one of the maids fills my glass.
I sip the fruity wine and let my mind wander to a certain warrior, a new favorite pastime of mine. I begin to respond but one of the maids points to the chair and says, “Set yerself there and let’s tend to yer hair.” Pouting, I am ushered into a seat by the window. From my room, I can see the courtyard and the activity below. The torches are being lit, and if ever I believed in magic, tonight would surely be the night. I say as much and the women agree.