Leah, wrapped in a cotton robe, was led to another room and in this one sat a tub of…“What is that?” she said with a gasp.
“Mud,” Regan answered, laughing.
So Leah was immersed in mud, made to stand in her birthday suit until it dried, and given three more baths. Then she lay on a table while Nicole and Regan tried to scrub her skin off with coarse leather gloves. She was put into another tub of water, this one greasy with vegetable oil, and when she was removed they rubbed her with cucumber cream.
“Not bad,” Regan said at the end of the day, hair straggling in her eyes, her dress filthy. “I think we accomplished a lot.” She smacked Leah on her bare bottom, handed her a robe, and escorted her upstairs.
Exhausted, but her skin feeling tingly and alive, Leah fell into the bed.
&
nbsp; The next morning Nicole and Regan were there again. Leah groaned and pulled the covers over her head.
“Oh no, Leah,” Regan said, laughing, “greet the day with a smile.” She pulled the covers off, but Leah did her own walking downstairs to the torture chambers.
“I’ve been itching to do this,” Nicole said, pulling the cap from Leah’s dirty hair. “I wonder what color it is?”
Leah sat in a hard chair while Nicole took a stiff-bristled brush to her scalp, scrubbing so hard it brought tears to her eyes.
“Dandruff,” Nicole murmured, but Leah didn’t even know what that was.
While Nicole scrubbed, Regan applied a cornmeal mixture to Leah’s face. When the mask was dry, they began washing her entire head. It took four shampooings to remove years of grease and dirt.
“I won’t swear to it but I think there’re touches of red in here,” Nicole said.
Even wet, Leah’s head felt lighter than it ever had, but before she could speak, Nicole began dumping handfuls of mayonnaise on her newly clean hair. Her head was wrapped in a very hot towel and she was left alone in the darkened room, her head leaning backwards, grated raw potato under her eyes.
Wesley, she kept thinking. I’m really, truly his wife, and he’s worth all of this.
In the evening her hair was washed again and rinsed with rainwater mixed with lemon juice, vinegar, and rosemary. Nicole had covered all the mirrors on their path from Wesley’s bedroom to the storage areas where they were working, so Leah had no idea how she looked, but as she sank into the bed she knew she smelled better.
Leah was appalled to learn that Nicole and Regan expected her to change her underclothes and bathe every single day. She felt that if it’d been done once it was done forever, but on the third day they pushed her into a tub again. They were determined to soften Leah’s skin since it bore calluses from years of work. Her elbows and knees were scrubbed raw, then bleached with lemon juice and massaged with strawberry cream.
And always there were lectures. Nicole taught her how to care for her skin and hair even if she spent all day in a field behind a team of horses. Since Leah couldn’t read, they made her memorize recipes for creams, facial masks, hair conditioners, and shampoos; on and on they went, making Leah recite them until she could repeat them even asleep.
After two weeks of treatments, Nicole, her hands in Leah’s clean, soft, shining hair, stood back. “Do you think we can show her now?” she asked with a smile.
“Wait.” Regan laughed. “Put this on, Leah.” She held out a deep green silk taffeta dressing gown, embroidered with tiny, colorful birds.
“I couldn’t.” Leah hesitated, but Nicole’s look stopped her. Leah dropped the plain muslin gown she wore and slid her arms into the silk, her eyes rolling slightly at the feel of it. “It’s lovely.”
“All right, now stand right here,” Regan ordered, posing Leah before a full-length mirror that was draped with a bed sheet.
When Regan, with a flourish, pulled the sheet away, Leah made no reaction—because she had no idea who the person in the mirror was. She turned to see who was behind her, but when the reflection moved also, she stood still.
The woman in the mirror was not just pretty; she was beautiful. Long, thick auburn hair cascaded about her shoulders, down her back, and big green, intense eyes looked out of a square-jawed face marked with a full, sensuous mouth. Tentatively, Leah lifted her hand to touch her own cheek—and the next minute she collapsed in a heap on the bed while Regan and Nicole laughed.
“I think we’ve succeeded,” Regan said in triumph, then her head came up. “I want to show her off. Just a bit, right now.”
“It’s early,” Nicole warned.
“Come along, Leah,” Regan said, taking Leah’s hand.
Regan led Leah through a part of the house she’d never seen before, through long hallways, past a vast dining room. “Does this place have an end?”
“You’ll learn your way around. Now we’re going to Travis’s office.”
“Wesley’s brother?”