dirty clothes and piled them in a heap in the privy closet. As far as she was concerned, that’s the only place where they belonged.
Stepping into the basin, the warm water instantly soothed her. Gradually, she lowered herself in the heavenly tub until she sat with her knees tucked under her chin. The chambermaid had left a cake of soap, a comb and a drying cloth on a small table, and across the room, a dressing gown had been laid out on the bed.
Holding the soap to her nose, Helen inhaled. “Sugared lavender.” Mother’s concoction, the scent would always remind her of home. Home. Such a comforting thought.
With languid strokes, she washed every inch of her body and lathered soap in her hair. Once clean, Helen closed her eyes and leaned back. Oh, how the warmth buoyed her woes and took them floating away. How long had it been since she’d allowed herself to be at ease? Peaceful, she cleared her mind and focused on sunshine. The sun’s rays started inside her midriff and radiated out through her limbs. She stretched her fingers and toes and the radiance of the sun shot through the tips of each, until the sense of complete weightlessness flooded her entire body.
Helen rested there, suspended in complete tranquility. Only when the water grew cold did she open her eyes.
“With all due respect, I do not like the idea of abandoning Lady Helen in a hunting cottage in the midst of the forest,” Mr. Keith said, riding a grey gelding alongside Helen’s bay and pulling a pack mule behind.
“I agree. I would not allow it if the forest were not entirely safe,” Gyllis replied as she led the way, sitting sidesaddle atop a sorrel Galloway. “Dunollie guards patrol Fearnoch daily. Make no bones about it, I assure you my sister will be secure.”
“I’m sure I will be fine,” Helen agreed. Maggie rode in a sling suspended around her neck, and seemed to be quite enjoying the horse’s movement. “If Lady Gyllis is confident, then so am I.”
After a good night’s sleep and a morning meal of oats, bacon and eggs, Helen felt like a new woman. With two borrowed kirtles, and a pack mule loaded with enough stores to see her through Yule, she was excited about this new adventure. How a modicum of independence enlivens one’s soul.
“There it is.” Gyllis pointed through the trees.
Helen leaned aside to look around her. Sure enough, a stone cottage was practically hidden by the dense forest. She instantly adored it. “Oh, ’tis quaint.”
“’Tis a hovel,” Mr. Keith groused. “A lady of your stature should be in a grand castle.”
“Hogwash,” Helen said. “This is exactly what I need whilst awaiting word from His Holiness.”
They rode into the clearing and dismounted. “There is a burn about fifty paces to the south,” Gyllis said. “And the water is pure and sweet.”
“Lovely.” Helen inhaled the scent of pine and wildflowers with a smile.
Mr. Keith tied the horses. “I’ll set to unpacking the mule.”
“My thanks.” Helen looked to Gyllis. “Shall we?”
“It isn’t a keep, but you and Maggie will want for nothing.” Gyllis pulled down the latch and opened the door.
As soon as Helen stepped inside the cottage, she was rapt. Though Gyllis hadn’t exaggerated about it being rustic, the hideaway had distinct charm. A large stone hearth consumed much of the far end wall with a brushed sheepskin rug before it. Cast iron cooking utensils hung from iron pegs and a grill had been installed over the fire for easy use. In front of the hearth were two wooden chairs—one was a delightful rocker with a cushioned seat.
Helen pointed. “I intend to spend my evenings rocking Maggie in that chair, singing lullabies until the bairn falls asleep.”
“You do have a beautiful voice for ballads.” Gyllis grinned. “Maggie will slip into slumber in no time.”
With a smile, Helen looked to the center of the chamber. A long table consumed the space, with benches on either side. Helen imagined Sir Sean and his men would roast venison and eat like kings whilst embellishing tales of their hunting expeditions. And being a hunting cottage, bows and quivers of arrows hung near the threshold.
Gyllis gestured to an open door across the chamber from the hearth. “Follow me.”
Helen crossed the floor to find a small bedchamber. It held a large bed, covered by a down-filled comforter and nearly consumed the entire space. “This is simply perfect.”
The Lady of Dunollie cleared her throat. “I daresay Anna was conceived in