“Caitlyn. Cait,” she finally managed to say.
The woman nodded and patted her arm. “Her name is Caitlyn, my lord,” she said loudly to the earl. “You can call her Cait as well, can’t he, lass?”
“Yes, ma’am” she whispered, daring a glance up at the Devil. He looked strangely chastised by the old woman’s tone.
“When Caitlyn is ready, bring her to the Great Hall,” he said quietly.
Unwanted or not.
Chapter Two
“There now, lass,” said the old woman as she huffed and puffed her bulk down the corridor next to Cait. “We’ll get that dirt and grime off ya and have ya good as new for your wedding. It won’t do at all to get married when you’re a mess, now will it?”
“No, ma’am,” said Cait tiredly. What she really wanted to do was find a nice warm bed to sleep in and call it a night.
Henna led her to a small room off the kitchen. Cait wandered through the hustle and bustle of servants and cooks and children, feeling dazed by all the activity. The keep, while large and forbidding, was also teeming with life. The smells of delicious food wafted in the air, making her stomach growl loudly enough for the old woman to hear.
“Oh now, we’ll have some food for you too, lass. You’re hungry, aren’t you? Had dinner yet?”
“No, ma’am,” said Cait. “I’m awfully hungry. I’m sorry to trouble you.”
“Sorry for what? We feed hungry mouths here. The earl insists on it,” she laughed. “Now what would you like to tide you over to dinner? Bit o’ bread or cheese, or maybe a fresh apple?”
“Some bread would be good. And something to drink too, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re parched. Where’s my manners? I’ll set them to warming the water and let you eat while you soak in the tub. Go on. Go on, I’ll help ya.”
She pushed Cait into a small room. She stood aside as an army of servants came in carrying buckets of hot water to pour into a large tub in the corner. Cait eyed it in wonder. It was made for a giant. For him, she supposed. Henna returned with a large mug of fresh ale and a plate of bread, fruit, and cheese. Cait drained the mug and tried not to eat too eagerly. It was hard though. She was so hungry.
“Take your time, girl,” said the old woman. “You can eat ‘til you’re full. There’s plenty more than that if you want it. You’ll need your energy for tonight, won’t ya, lass?” she said with a mischievous wink.
Cait looked back at her in confusion. “I suppose.”
“Well, then, let’s get those filthy things off ya. Have you any other clothes to put on?”
“No, ma’am,” said Cait. “Nothing any cleaner than this.”
“That won’t do.” The old woman frowned. “Let Henna take care of this. You climb into that water and wash yourself good, and I’ll be back to help with your hair in just a bit.”
Cait looked at the warm, steaming tub and then back at the door. The kitchen was so near. What if someone saw her? She decided finally that she didn’t care. She peeled off the filthy clothes of the last two weeks and left them in a pile. She stepped into the water and sighed. It was so warm, so warm.
* * * * *
By the time Henna returned a few minutes later, Cait was reclining in the tub, fast asleep. Henna looked down at the exhausted girl. Poor thing, little more than a child, and no idea at all what she’d gotten herself into. She was certain the girl knew nothing of men or what happened on wedding nights, if her blank look earlier meant anything. She wished she could allow her to rest now, but she had to get her washed up and delivered to the earl.
She roused her gently and began to wash the grit and dust from her dark hair. Jet black, she thought to herself as the chalky dirt washed away. Never seen hair so jet black. Black as the devil it was. And the eyes, when the girl turned them on her, they took her breath away. They were otherworldly. So light, so blue.
“Are you scared about tonight, lass?” she asked as she washed out the long wavy locks, rinsing them over and over until they shone like ebony stone.
“Yes,” she said, “but I think this bath is worth it, even if I must be wed to a stranger.”
Henna laughed. “You can have a bath every night if you wish. That’s what the earl does. Had this wash room made special, he did, when the old king gave him this keep.”
“He gave it to him?”
“Aye,” said Henna proudly. “For valor in battle.”
She gave the girl scented cakes of soap, helping her wash her back. She was so thin and tired. Henna couldn’t wait to get some meat on her bones and fill her out a little. She’d be a pretty thing when she was in full health, not that she wasn’t pretty now. For a thin woman, she had lovely curves, full breasts and adequate hips for bearing babes. Henna knew such things. She’d helped birth the earl and his brother, God rest his soul, and nursed them both from the day they were born.
“Is he the fighting sort then?” asked the girl. “Is he very vicious?”
Henna laughed out loud. “Vicious? Oh, goodness me no, although he can have a temper when he wants. Don’t you believe for a second that he’s the devil they say. He’s a fine man and he’ll treat you all right. Otherwise he’ll have me to answer to.”
The girl looked up at her and smiled. “Are you his mother?”
“No, dear, his mother passed a while back. But I was his nurse for many years. I take care of him still, although he would never admit it.”
The girl laughed. Henna smiled at the tinkly, light sound of it, but just as quickly the girl’s face grew sober. “I think he doesn’t like me very much. He didn’t look happy to see me.”
“You must understand that he only learned you were coming a short time before you arrived. And his last wife...” Henna’s voice trailed off.
“His last wife died, didn’t she?”
“Yes, she died. During childbirth. Just a matter of how the baby came out. I wish I could have helped her but her problems were the unfixable kind.”
Henna waited for more questions but they never came. She helped the girl out of the water and dried her off. She was a little thing, she was. All woman, but short and tiny-like.
“Are you worried about after the wedding, lass, you know?” Henna asked, not wanting to volunteer any information that might scare the girl.
“I’m just tired,” Cait replied after a moment. “I’m just so very tired. I can’t wait to go to bed.”
* * * * *
Connor nudged Duncan as Henna led his bride into the hall. By God, he recognized the dress at once, but the girl wearing it, that was something else altogether. Gone was the dust covered urchin of the courtyard, replaced by an astonishingly beautiful woman.
And she was a woman, not a child at all. Lenore’s dress revealed that, even swimming in it as she was. Lenore had been taller so the material pooled at Cait’s feet, but the bust and hips of the dress were filled out by delicious curves.
But no, it wouldn’t do for her to wear this dress. Not tonight. Lenore was in his memory enough as it was. He shot a reproachful look at Henna, beckoning her to his side.
“It was the only dress that was suitable,” she insisted.
“It is not suitable. It belonged to my dead wife.”
“The dress does not matter,” Henna argued under her breath. “What matters is the woman inside it.”
“The dress does matter!”
“Why?” asked Henna.