Page 20 of The Duke’s Lance (The Duke’s Guard #12)
H elen sank into the copper slipper tub and felt warm for the first time in twenty-four hours. The scent of lavender drifted up as she swirled her hand through the dried lavender buds floating in the bathwater.
“Thank you for helping me into the tub, Miss Josina. I thought I could do it on my own, but didn’t realize that I normally brace both hands on the edge before getting in.”
The older woman smiled indulgently. “I’m happy to help. Jeanette and I understand the need to be self-sufficient. But we also need to remind you to exercise caution while you are recovering from your injury and to not get that bandage wet. You can rest it on this folded drying cloth on the edge of the tub.”
“I promise to keep it out of the water.”
“That’s fine. Now, let me unwrap the bandage around your neck. We’ll need to gently cleanse it and use some of the ointment the innkeeper’s wife sent along with bandages.”
Helen submitted to Miss Josina’s ministrations. When the older woman folded the bandages and set them aside, Helen glanced about her, marveling at the opulence surrounding them in the alcove of the dressing room where the slipper tub sat. “I shall be finished in a few minutes, then I can attend you and your sister with your baths.”
“Take your time and soak, Helen. I shall return in ten minutes to help you wash your hair. You’ll likely drop the bucket with the rinse water if you attempt it without me.”
“I promise I won’t. O’Malley would be vexed with me.”
“He is a good man, cut from the same cloth as my Herman and Jeanette’s Samuel. They would have approved of him, and I believe they guided us to the inn where we met you and O’Malley.”
“Do you believe in fate?”
Josina smiled. “I do. Now finish up, and I shall be back to help with your hair.”
Alone, Helen washed, though it was awkward with the use of one hand. Add that to the fact that she had never spent time luxuriating in a hot bath, and the bath was anything but relaxing. A short time later, the knock on the dressing room door surprised her.
“Miss Langley, it’s Mary. Her ladyship asked me to attend you. Miss Josina and Miss Jeanette are neck deep in hot, scented water and loath to come out.”
Helen smiled at the idea, and then realized it was probably the first time the sisters had been pampered in a very long time, if ever. “They deserve to soak as long as they wish.”
“May I come in?”
“Yes, of course. Miss Josina was going to help me wash my hair, but I can forgo that for now.”
Mary was holding a small tray containing bandages, linen strips, and the small jar Mrs. Bertrum had given them. “The baroness wanted to ensure that you took your time and enjoyed a good, long soak. I’m to make sure you keep your wrist dry. When you’re ready to get out, let me know.”
“Thank you, Mary. It is difficult doing things one-handed. The Hinkle sisters were kind enough to help me again this morning.”
“I am adept with a number of hairstyles, if you would like me to do something special with your hair—after you’re dried, dressed, and I bandage your throat.”
“I’d best get out now—that is a really long list.”
Mary set the tray down. “Oh, and her ladyship wanted me to tell you that Vicar Chessy will be arriving after the evening meal to officiate.”
A thrill skittered up Helen’s spine. “I was not certain O’Malley would remember, though he did tell me that was his intention.”
The maid smiled. “When an O’Malley speaks…we all listen. For that matter, Flaherty and Garahan, too.”
“Even the baron and baroness?”
Mary nodded. “They are frighteningly good at their job protecting and deterring those who seek to attack the duke or his family.”
Helen knew for a fact that O’Malley and Flaherty were warriors at heart. But O’Malley had a gentle side, which she’d seen with the Hinkle sisters, and his kisses—Lord, they rattled her senses until her legs turned to jelly!
Mary seemed nervous, and Helen wondered if it had to do with the prospect of bandaging the shallow cut on her neck. “I don’t mind if you stare, Mary. I would if I were in your place. I’ve never actually seen a cut that could have ended someone’s life—if it had been deeper. From O’Malley’s reaction, you would have thought it had been the latter. I have never seen such quiet, controlled anger before. He was beyond incensed.”
Mary’s mouth hung open for a moment. “I beg your pardon, Miss Langley. The image of O’Malley being incensed isn’t quite what I would have pictured. Angry, boiling mad, foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog, yes…but not merely incensed .”
“Have you ever seen him lose his temper?”
“Not once, although with the breadth of his chest and powerful frame, I have imagined it is how he appears to those who try to thwart him.”
The maid sighed, and Helen wondered what the young woman was thinking now. She was caught off guard when Mary said, “He and his brother are so handsome with their light hair, emerald eyes, and those shoulders…”
Helen could barely keep up with the conversation. At least Mary seemed to lose her hesitation and worry staring at her neck. Needing to set the maid’s mind at ease, she asked, “What of Flaherty with his auburn hair and blue eyes? Then there is Garahan, with his dark hair and brown eyes.”
The maid forgot all about the cut and began to help Helen wash her hair. “They are handsome too, but there is just something about a man with blond hair and broad shoulders—” She bit her lip and ducked her head before getting up to retrieve the bucket of water to rinse Helen’s tresses. “I do not want you to think that I would ogle your husband-to-be…or Miss Caro’s husband. Although I have sneaked more than one peak at Flaherty when his broad back is turned.”
Helen could not recall ever having a conversation like this one. Actually, Mary was doing most of the conversing. She rather enjoyed the maid’s happy rambling, and smiled when Mary continued, “There are not many men hereabouts half as handsome as the duke’s guard—even in the village. There is one exception, the blacksmith, Mr. Coleman. He has an intimidating stature and physique. Most men are not as tall, strong, or dedicated as the men protecting the baron and baroness. Did you know that each one of the men in the duke’s guard have taken a lead ball, or been stabbed, protecting them?”
Helen shivered. “I did not, though I do know Garahan’s brother Aiden has—and have seen him bleeding. He was sent to protect my former mistress. I was Miss Emily Montrose’s maid and then companion for half my life. I confess, it feels odd to be the one in the tub, being waited on.”
“I can only imagine,” Mary replied. “But her ladyship was adamant that the bride-to-be was to be waited on. She even set out a lovely gown for you to wear. I’m quite talented with a needle and thread, and can make any alterations to fit the gown to you, if need be.”
Helen was by turns horrified and humbled by the generosity of the baroness. “Oh, but I couldn’t possibly accept a gown from the baroness. I’m nobody.”
“Not true. Just because we are not highborn, like the baroness—she is the Duke of Wyndmere’s sister, you know—that does not mean that we do not have worth. Her ladyship has told us that more than once. Besides, you are going to be wed to one of the Duke of Wyndmere’s private guard. As O’Malley’s wife, you will be treated with the same respect he receives. All of the women who have married members of the duke’s guard are treated well…even though they come from all different walks of life. No one is ever reviled. You’ll get used to it.”
Helen was silent while Mary continued to monopolize the conversation. The maid filled her in on some of the attacks that had occurred at Summerfield Chase within the last few months. When Mary paused for a moment, Helen said, “It sounds like what Emily and I went through on our journey to Wyndmere Hall.”
“And more recently, from what we have been told. You are so lucky O’Malley was sent to find you.” Mary shuddered. “Now then, wait just a moment while I fetch the drying cloth.”
The kind maid returned with the cloth, then helped Helen to stand and lean on her as she helped her out of the copper tub. “Do not worry about getting me wet. I can change.”
With little fuss, Helen found herself dried off and helped into a soft, cream-colored chemise and a deep rose gown.
Mary stood back and stared. “Her ladyship will be so pleased. You look radiant, Miss Langley.”
“Please, call me Helen.”
“Wait until she sees you, Miss Helen.” The maid’s eyes gleamed. “Wait until O’Malley sees you. Now then, I could make a tuck here on both sides, if you like.”
“No, I think it’s perfect the way it fits.”
A few minutes later, again with Mary’s expert help, Helen had donned stockings and satin slippers that only needed a bit of fabric stuffed into the toes to bring them down to her size.
“Come sit by the fire in the bedchamber and let your hair dry. We cannot risk you catching a chill by putting your hair up while it’s damp. While you sit, I will take care of the wound on your neck. I know from experience that if a cut gets dirt in it, infection is a possibility.”
The maid kept up her chatter while she applied the healing salve from the jar. Gently, carefully, Mary folded one of the linen squares lengthwise and held it against the wound. “Hold it there just for a moment, please.” Efficiently, she wound a thin length of linen around Helen’s neck, snug enough to hold the bandage in place, but not too tight.
“Thank you for helping me, Mary. I truly appreciate it.”
“My pleasure, Miss Helen.” Mary smiled conspiratorially as she held up what looked like O’Malley’s cravat. “Before you ask, O’Malley sent you a clean one—you’re to use it as a sling.”
Helen’s heart trembled in her breast as she inhaled and caught a hint of O’Malley’s scent—rain-washed air with a hint of leather—as Mary competently fashioned the sling and tied it around her neck.
“There now, you are all set. After I do your hair for you, I will need to check with Margaret and Elizabeth—they should be nearly finished assisting the Hinkle sisters. Her ladyship will be expecting the three of you shortly. She’ll be serving tea in her sitting room. Mrs. Green has made a few batches of her frosted teacakes. Those two scamps Percy and Phineas gobble them up whenever they get the chance.”
“I knew the baroness was expecting—how old are their other sons?”
“They are Mrs. Garahan’s young cousins…twins.” Mary frowned. “Those poor little boys were recently made wards of the baron and baroness. It is not my tale to tell, though I am at liberty to say that Baron and Baroness Summerfield are the kindest of souls to have done so.”
Helen did wonder what the story was, but would not press Mary to confide in her. She could always ask O’Malley. There wasn’t any information the men in the duke’s guard were not privy to.
Surprised at her train of thought, she realized that she was anticipating being able to discuss things that affected their life with him. She hoped that they would grow close, and not just because of what she knew happened in the marriage bed, but because they looked forward to sharing every aspect of their lives together. At least, she hoped O’Malley would share some of his worry and burden from the job he performed for the duke. Time would tell.