Nicholas nodded at the woman, then followed her up the stairs, still carrying Dougless, but also managing to ignore her. The landlady led them to a room Nicholas had not seen before. It had strange, large pottery vessels in it, one of which he recognized as a bathtub. But he saw no buckets of water, and he’d seen no maids about. Who filled this large tub?
He nearly dropped the woman he was holding when the landlady turned a knob above the tub and out poured water. A fountain inside the house! Nicholas thought, his eyes wide in disbelief.
“It’ll be hot in a minute,” the landlady said. “You should get her undressed and put her in the tub while I get fresh towels. And you look like you could use a soak too,” she said as she left the room.
Nicholas had understood enough of what the landlady said to consider the idea. He looked down at Dougless with interest.
“Don’t even think about it,” Dougless warned. “You’re to leave this room while I take a bath.”
Smiling, he set her down and looked about. “What manner of room is this?”
“It’s the bathroom.”
“I see the bathing pot, but what is this object? And this?”
Dougless stood there in her cold, wet clothes, and looked at him. She’d thought he’d made a major slip up in his disguise when he’d pretended to know so little about Robert Dudley, but as he’d said more, Dougless knew he’d been right. She’d have to call her father for the dates, but she knew without asking that in 1564, the year this man said he’d last been in, Robert Dudley had not yet been made the earl of Leicester.
So now this man was standing there in wet clothes that clung to his beautiful body, and he was asking her what a toilet and sink were. She had to restrain herself from asking what he’d been using if he didn’t know what a toilet was. But of course he knew, she told herself. However, he must have been studying very, very hard to have forgotten something so basic. She demonstrated the basin; then, with a face red with embarrassment, she explained the toilet. She demonstrated seat up and seat down. “And you never, never leave the seat up,” she said, feeling as though she were doing her part for womankind in teaching one man this simple thing.
They were interrupted when the landlady returned with more towels and a flowered cotton robe. “I noticed you didn’t have much luggage,” she said, her tone hinting that she wanted to know why. “Usually, Americans show up with so much luggage.”
“The airlines lost it all,” Dougless said quickly, and wondered if she thought Nicholas was also American. Was his accent odd to an English person?
“I thought it was something like that,” the landlady said. “I’ll get your tea and leave it on the table in the hall, if that’s all right with you. So, good night.”
“Yes, thank you,” Dougless said as the door closed, leaving her alone with Nicholas, whom she dismissed quickly. “You can go now. I won’t be long.” Smiling as though he was enjoying Dougless’s nervousness, he left the bathroom. When she was alone, Dougless slipped into the hot water, lay back, and closed her eyes. The water stung her scraped knees and elbows, but already the hot water was beginning to warm her.
How had he found her? she wondered. After she’d left him at the B and B, she’d wandered all over the village trying to find a place to stay for thirty pounds, but there was nothing. All the less expensive places were full. She’d spent six pounds on a meal in a pub, then started walking. She thought perhaps she could make it to another village before night and find shelter there. But the rain had started, it’d grown dark, and all Dougless could find was a leaky shed set in the middle of a field. At first she’d curled up on some dirty straw and gone to sleep, but she awoke sometime during the night to find herself crying—but then, crying seemed to be her normal state over the last twenty-four hours.
While she’d been crying, he had appeared—and, the truth was, she hadn’t been surprised to see him. In fact, it had seemed perfectly natural that he’d known where to find her and that he’d come out into the rain for her. It had also seemed natural when he’d picked her up in his strong arms.
When the water grew cold, Dougless got out of the tub, dried herself off, then put on the flowered robe. A glance in the mirror showed her to have on no makeup and her hair . . . The less thought about that the better. There was nothing she could do about her appearance as she didn’t have so much as a comb.
Shyly, she knocked on the half-open bedroom door. Nicholas, wearing only his still-wet trousers, flung it open. “The bathroom is yours,” she said, trying to smile and trying to act as though the situation was normal.
But now there was no softness in his face. “Get into that bed and stay there,” he ordered. “I do not intend to go bat-fowling again.”
She only nodded at him as he passed her on the way to the bathroom. On the table was a tray of food and a pot of tea. “Bet he didn’t leave me any,” she muttered at the same time she was thinking that she didn’t deserve any more kindness from him. She had been a pest to him. But he’d left enough in the pot for her to have a cup of tea and he’d left a chicken sandwich for her. Gratefully, Dougless ate and drank it all; then, wearing the thin robe, she slipped under the comforter of the second bed. When he returned, they would talk, she thought. She would ask him how he found out where she was. How had he found her in the dark in the pouring rain?
She meant to talk to him when he returned, but she closed her eyes for a moment, and the next thing she knew it was morning. Warm sunlight was hitting her full in the face, and slowly, groggily, she opened her eyes.
There was a man standing before the window, his back to her, and he was wearing only a small white towel fastened about his hips. As though in a dream, Dougless noticed that he had a muscular back that tapered down to a small slim waist, and his legs were heavy with muscle.
Slowly, Dougless came awake enough to remember who this man was. She remembered everything, their first meeting in the church when he’d drawn a sword on her, to last night when he’d found her and carried her through the rain.
When she sat up, he turned to look at her.
“You are awake,” he said flatly. “Come, get up, as there is much we must do.”
As she got out of bed, she saw that he, too, meant to get dressed . . . in front of her. Grabbing her own wrinkled clothing, she went to the bathroom to dress. When she had her clothes on, she looked into the mirror and nearly started crying again. She looked awful! Her eyes were still red, and her hair was a tangled, frizzy mess—and she knew she had no way to repair the damage. As she looked into the mirror, she thought that if all women had to confront the world with the face God gave them, there would be a great increase in female suicides.
Putting her shoulders back, she left the bathroom, where she almost ran into Nicholas, as he was waiting for her in the hall.
“First we eat; then, madam, we talk,” he said as though his words were a dare.
Dougless merely nodded as she went
ahead of him down the stairs to the little dining room.