Chapter Eight
There had been a bath.
Not so much in a proper tub as it had been in an enormous iron pot used to boil down bones and God only knew what else, but it was large enough for Andromeda to bathe in. She was so desperate to clean up that she would have bathed in a coffin had they brought her one.
Flora and Aldis were able to find soap among their own possessions, along with combs and other things for the lady’s bath, and then the pot was half-filled with steaming water.
While Flora helped Andromeda, Aldis focused on a couple of dresses they found that might be of some service.
As it turned out, whoever owned the garments had been a big woman, tall and full, and Andromeda was considerably smaller.
Aldis had her own sewing kit, so she collected it from her room and returned to the lady’s chamber determined to make the dresses serviceable.
Before the bath could happen, however, they had to wait for the soldiers Tristan had sent to bring up a bedframe and mattress.
There was a small army of them filling the chamber with a bedframe and chairs, a stool, two tables, a mattress, two dusty rugs, and a chest. They even brought up that magnificent wardrobe, up two flights of stairs, and it took eight of them to do it.
But they managed to get it into the chamber and push it against the wall.
It was still full of everything that had been crammed into it, which had caused the thing to be quite heavy.
When all was said and done, Andromeda had the first proper bedchamber that she’d had in a year.
The mattress, however, still needed to be stuffed, but Flora told Andromeda that they would do that when she went down to supper.
When the soldiers departed and a fire was burning in the hearth, Andromeda finally stripped off her ill-fitting clothing and climbed into the steaming water.
Flora took her very own soap, smelling of rosemary, and a horsehair scrub brush used to clean off the kitchen tables, and went to work on her young charge.
She scrubbed and scrubbed, washing off months of grime that Andromeda’s limited washing opportunities hadn’t been able to cleanse.
The layers of dirt began to come off.
As Andromeda sat in the pot and gripped the sides to prevent Flora from scrubbing her right under the water, Flora washed hair and arms and anything else she could get her hands on.
The brush was coarse, but it was clean. It was also necessary.
Flora set it aside when she soaped up Andromeda’s hair, using her fingers to wash out the dirt and oils, before rinsing it in the water.
Then she rinsed her hair with stale ale, letting it sit for a few minutes before rinsing it out again with clear water.
Andromeda felt weak and languid after such a scrubbing.
It was like being pleasurably beaten to death.
But along with something she’d once taken for granted, something as simple as a bath, sitting in that hot water had done something to her—it made her remember better days, of days at Rockbrook when she and Ceara and Alecia, women she considered her sisters, had fine beds to sleep in, good food, and regular baths.
They’d had a rather pampered existence, truthfully, but it made Andromeda realize that she had lived like an animal over the past year.
She had been struggling to survive, every single day, and it would have been very easy to give up.
But there was nothing in her that could condone a surrender to her situation.
She always believed something better was on the horizon if she could only fight for it.
If she could only make it to her father.
And here she was.
She and her father were going to have to have a long talk about her future, because she couldn’t go back to Ireland.
She’d had time to think about his cold reception, and although she wasn’t sure why he should treat her as if he didn’t know her, she was going to get to the bottom of it.
Perhaps it was only because he was startled to see her.
In any case, she was going to make sure he understood that she intended to be obedient and productive. She didn’t want to be a burden.
Perhaps that would make him more agreeable to seeing his daughter again.
When the water grew cold, Andromeda reluctantly climbed out and into a towel that Flora had warmed by the hearth.
The kitchen servant dried her vigorously, wrapping her up in a stained but clean piece of cloth, before sitting her down on one of the chairs the soldiers had brought up from the storage chamber.
With the chair positioned next to the hearth, the warm air was wildly comforting.
As Aldis continued to work on the dress, Flora set about combing Andromeda’s hair.
It was very long, and nearly white, with a wave to it.
The washing and rinsing in the ale had made it very shiny, and as Flora combed, it dried rapidly in the heat of the hearth.
By this time, Andromeda was growing sleepy, having a difficult time keeping her eyes open as Flora combed.
Truthfully, it had been an eventful day for Andromeda, and she was starting to feel it.
Sensing this, because more than once Andromeda closed her eyes and started to tip over, Flora threw a couple of the big coverlets on the floor next to the hearth and fashioned a pallet.
The moment Andromeda lay down on it, still wrapped tightly in the towel, she fell into a deep sleep.
The sun was down when next she opened her eyes to Flora’s gentle shaking.
Aldis had finished one of the garments for the evening meal, which was clearly underway, because the smell of roasting meat was in the air.
It wafted through the open windows on the evening breeze.
With a yawn, Andromeda stood up and went over to the bed, where Aldis had the altered garments laid out.
A shift went on first, one that had been too long, so Aldis had to hem up the bottom by several inches.
It was roomy, with long sleeves, but it was very comfortable and well made.
Over that went a very fine garment of silk in a pale shade of blue.
It had silver embroidery around the neck and wrists, and ties in the back of it so one could lace it to fit.
As Andromeda stood patiently, Flora and Aldis fussed over her, tightening up the ties and then loosening them again simply to make sure they had the right fit.
In truth, the dress gave Andromeda a stunning figure.
She was full-breasted, with a slender waist and generous hips, so the dress emphasized those attributes.
As she stood there and yawned, trying to stay awake, the servants finished with the dress and helped her put on a pair of slippers that had also been found in the wardrobe.
They were a little too big, so Aldis took them off again, and while she went to put a stitch in the heel to help them stay on Andromeda’s feet, Flora came around with the comb again and brushed Andromeda’s hair until it gleamed.
It looked like the rays of the sun, warm and soft and flowing.
She didn’t look like the same woman who had entered the chamber.
Combed and cleaned and in a dress that actually fit her, Andromeda looked like a goddess.
Aldis finished with the slippers and helped her put them on again.
They fit better than they had before, but they were still big.
As Andromeda looked down at herself, smoothing over the blue dress, Flora approached her with a necklace she had found in the wardrobe.
“You look like a proper lady now,” the old servant said with satisfaction. “It’s astonishing what soap and water can accomplish.”
Andromeda smiled weakly. “I’d forgotten what it felt like to be clean again and wearing clean clothing,” she said. “I cannot thank you enough for your help. I owe you much.”
Flora beamed. “It was good to be out of the kitchens and doing something I used to do in my youth,” she said, holding up the necklace. “We found this in the wardrobe with other pieces of jewelry. I think it will go well with the dress, my lady.”
Andromeda took it in her hands, looking it over with delight. It was a gold chain with pearls woven into the chain itself, and at the end of it was a square-shaped golden medallion with blue stone and pearls set into it.
“Sweet Mary,” she whispered. “This is a magnificent piece. And you said you found it in the wardrobe?”
Flora nodded. “There are others,” she said. “But that is blue. Like your eyes, my lady.”
She was smiling as she said it, and Andromeda grinned bashfully, but she put the necklace on and the medallion hung right between her breasts. She didn’t have a mirror, but she wished she did. She would have liked to see herself clean and properly dressed for the first time in a year.
“I suppose I should join them in the hall now,” she said. “Will you show me how to find my way from this place so I do not wander for years, unable to discover the door?”
She was jesting a little, referring to the size of the place, and Flora nodded.
“I will, my lady,” she said. “Aldis is going to stay and finish with the other dress. She’s also going to take another look at the other garments to see if there is something else she can alter to fit you.
You must have proper clothing, after all. ”
Andromeda thought on that, fingering the medallion as she snorted softly. “I’d forgotten that,” she said. “My life over the past year has been so trying that… I had forgotten what it feels like to wear something that fits, or the warmth of a bath. I’ve forgotten what it is like to be a lady.”
Flora’s gaze lingered on her with concern. “Have… have you been traveling long, my lady?”
Andromeda nodded. “Long,” she murmured, remembering the hell of the last year and then thinking she should try to push it out of her mind. “Long, indeed. Now… will you show me how to find the hall?”