Chapter Fourteen #2
Lined with linen, the tub was dented and very used, but serviceable.
Ellowyn remained on the bed, covered up to her ears, as men entered bearing buckets of hot water and proceeded to fill up the tub.
She could also see a pair of Brandt’s soldiers in the hall, watching everyone who entered and left the room.
Already, they were protecting the duchess, Brandt de Russe’s lady wife. The thought made her grin.
A serving woman remained behind to help her bathe.
Once the water was filled about halfway in the tub, the serving woman shut the door and locked it.
Ellowyn climbed out of bed and rummaged around in the booty Brandt had brought her until she came across a sack made from dried grass soaked in oil to both strengthen and soften the strands.
It was woven tightly and tied with another piece of long grass.
Untying the top, she dumped the bag onto the coverlet and was delighted to find two white, lumpy bars of soap that smelled like orange blossoms, a small bladder that was well-sealed and when opened revealed scented sesame oil for the skin, a wooden brush made with horsehair bristles, and a decorative hair comb carved from tortoise shell.
There was even a little pot of something that looked waxy, was unscented, and that she and the serving woman figured out must have been to keep her lips from cracking.
Ellowyn recognized the consistency. She had something similar back at Erith.
Thrilled with the items, she climbed into the bath as the fire in the hearth gained steam and started smoking into the room.
After the servant woman doused Ellowyn’s hair with the warm water, she went to the window to lift the oilcloth so some of the smoke could escape.
Meanwhile, Ellowyn was scrubbing herself furiously with the white soap that had pieces of orange blossom petals in it.
The maid took charge of her hair and soaped it up into a slimy lather that took a great deal of water to rinse out.
From the top of her head to the bottom of her feet, Ellowyn was soaped and rinsed, feeling warm and wonderful.
But the bath didn’t last too long considering Brandt was anxious to get on the road.
Once out of the tub, the servant dried Ellowyn with such vigor that her skin turned red and then sparingly rubbed the oil all over her.
The result was silky skin that had a delightful smell to it, like flowers on a warm summer day.
After that, the servant picked out one of the two new shifts off the bed and put it over Ellowyn’s head, sitting her on a stool by the fire as she went to work drying the long red hair.
The woman worked quickly but not quickly enough.
With some of her hair still damp, the servant braided Ellowyn’s hair tightly and helped her dress in one of the new garments Brandt had brought her.
The shift was pale, soft wool while the surcoat was a finely woven linen dyed a dark blue.
It had laced-up ties in the back that, when cinched up, gave Ellowyn an exquisite figure.
Working swiftly and silently, the woman cinched it up too tight at first until Ellowyn begged for it to be loosened.
The servant then helped her with her hose and leather boots, and then took one of the two heavy woolen scarves that Brandt had purchased, and draped it over Ellowyn’s shoulders, tying it to the rear so it elegantly covered most of her torso.
The bright red color was striking. With her luscious figure in the shapely surcoat, red scarf, and braid draping elegantly over one shoulder, she looked every inch the Duchess of Exeter.
It was, in fact, a vision not lost on St. Hèver and Alex de Lara when they showed up with a wicker trunk they had purchased from a nearby vegetable merchant.
Two male servants were hauling the half-filled and used bathtub away and the door to the chamber was wide open when the knights appeared.
Ellowyn was standing over by the bed, carefully folding her new garments, when a soft knock on the open door distracted her.
She looked up to see two armored men smiling at her.
“Come in,” she said, waving them in. Then she noticed the trunk they were carrying. “For me? Lovely! I have all of these wonderful things to pack.”
The knights set the tightly-woven reed trunk down, tipping it over and shaking out some of the leaves and roots left over from the vegetables that had been stored in it.
“It is all we could find at such short notice, my lady,” Brennan said. “It will be serviceable for now, but the duke wishes to purchase you finer trunks when we reach a larger town. We should find more merchants with more of a variety of wares.”
Ellowyn was already carefully putting things into the wicker trunk. “This will be fine,” she told them. “Where is de Russe?”
“Your husband is outside tending to some business,” Alex replied. “He has asked us to escort you outside when you are ready.”
She grinned as she rolled up the blue shift and surcoat she had worn the day before. “I meant to ask where my husband is,” she said as she turned for the trunk and tucked the garments in. “I have not yet gotten used to calling him that.”
“And we have not gotten used to calling you his wife,” Alex countered, returning her smile.
“It all seems so new and strange, doesn’t it?” Ellowyn asked.
Both Alex and Brennan nodded, inevitably thinking back to the first day they met her. A marriage between their liege and the spitfire of a woman at that time seemed the most unlikely of things. Just like Brandt and Ellowyn, the knights of the duke’s command were still getting used to the idea, too.
“It does, indeed,” Alex replied quietly.
The sack of dried grass was the last thing to be packed in the wicker basket and Brennan secured the lid. Slinging the trunk over one big shoulder, he took it out of the room as Alex and Ellowyn followed.
The corridor outside was dim as Alex escorted Ellowyn to the stairs.
The soldiers that had been guarding the hall were leading the way down the steps into the main room, which was dark and cold at this hour.
The innkeeper and his employees were moving around, preparing for the coming day, and smells were wafting from the kitchen that was tucked back into one corner of the inn.
Ellowyn most definitely smelled bread and she turned a hungry eye in the direction of the kitchen.
Alex must have sensed her famished state, or at least had already anticipated it, because he was already snapping commands at the kitchen staff.
One of the women who had helped with Ellowyn’s bath came forth with a basket containing what Ellowyn thought were small loaves of bread. She found out she was very wrong.
“You can take this with you, my lady,” the woman handed her the basket, pointing at the contents. “These are little loaves of puffed cakes. I have put butter and honey on them for you. Eat them while they are warm.”
Ellowyn was very interested. So was Alex.
The quieter, more introspective version of Dylan evidently had a strong interest in food.
She picked up a piece of one of the puffed little cakes, which were actually hollow inside, and popped it in her mouth.
It was delicious. She offered one to Alex, who gladly took a piece.
He, too, thought they were quite delicious.
“What are these puffed cakes made from?” Ellowyn wanted to know, stuffing another one into her mouth.
“Flour, eggs, a little milk and salt,” the servant told her. “We bake them in fat and they puff up into little hollow cakes. Sometimes we douse them with gravy, which is also very delicious.”
Ellowyn had already put another cake in her mouth by the time the woman had finished explaining how they were made.
Alex took the last one. The serving woman ran off with the basket and returned with several more, all hot and delicious with white butter and golden honey soaking into them.
She also included several cuts of well-cooked meat, which smelled divinely.
It was crispy, salty and greasy, and Alex took a piece before Ellowyn could get to it.
He crunched into it the brittle meat, pieces flying out of his mouth.
Ellowyn selected her own piece and bit into it.
“What is this wonderful meat?” she asked, mouth full.
The servant woman grinned, displaying the only three discolored teeth she had. “Bacoun my lady,” she replied. “It is cured, salted, and fried pork.”
Ellowyn was sold. “Give me all you have. I suspect it will be stolen from me when the knights smell it.”
The old servant was on the move. “I shall return, my lady.”
Ellowyn devoured her fill of the puffed-up cakes while waiting for the bacoun, leaving a few for Brandt on the assumption he had not yet eaten.
When the servant returned with a slab of bacoun wrapped in burlap that was quickly soaking with the grease, Alex carried it outside for her but Ellowyn kept shooting him threatening expressions to ensure the temptation of the pungent smell would not lure him into eating it.
She wanted it for Brandt, protective and concerned for her new husband.
He had displayed as much consideration for her. She would return the favor.
It was still quite misty outside in the breaking dawn.
Water coated the buildings, landscape, and people, and there was an icy chill to the air.
The army was packed up and ready to depart and Ellowyn could see the knights through the mist, making sure everything was set before they departed for the very long journey to Guildford Castle.
As she stood on the stoop of the inn, watching the activity, a carriage pulled up in front of her.