The Midwife: The Pocket Watch Chronicles

by Ceci Giltenan

  Bathing room? Before Elizabeth could think too much about that, Ellen ushered her into a chair at the kitchen table and sat a bowl of rich stew in front of her. “There, lass, eat up. There’s plenty more if ye’re still peckish when that’s done.”

  The stew was warm, filling and while she wasn’t certain what the meat was, it was delicious. She’d had nothing warm to eat since the porridge Gertrude had made for her at Brathanead early yesterday morning.

  She was just finishing her last few bites when a girl of about nineteen came through a door in the back of the kitchen, holding the bundle of Elsie’s things. The girl smiled shyly at Elizabeth.

  “Deirdre, lass, do ye need something?” asked Ellen.

  “Nay.” She just stood there holding the bundle looking confused.

  Ellen shook her head—a bit exasperated. “Deirdre, if ye don’t need anything, what have ye come for?”

  The girl blushed furiously. “Oh…right…Lady Lilliana asked me to bring the new midwife her belongings. She said I was to help her get a bath and then show her to the chamber she’s been given. I’ve started heating the water already.”

  “Well then, Elsie have ye had yer fill?” Ellen asked.

  Elizabeth smiled. “Aye, thank ye, it was delicious.”

  The cook beamed at her. “I’m glad ye liked it.

  “And—Deirdre was it? I’m Elsie, thank ye for bringing me my things.”

  “If ye’ll come with me, I show ye our bathing room.”

  Elizabeth had worried about what a medieval bath might be like, but a bathing room sounded promising and she didn’t think she’d ever wanted a bath more. The bathing room turned out to be a room behind the kitchen. It was built over a well, which was evidently the water source for the castle. There was a huge fireplace that shared the same chimney as the kitchen. Iron hooks held pots of water over the flames.

  Deirdre showed Elizabeth how to draw cold water from the well to partially fill the tub. When the pots were boiling, she added hot water until the bath was pleasantly warm.

  The maid gave her linen toweling and a crock filled with a liquid. Sniffing it, Elizabeth found it had a very pleasant, lavender aroma. “What is this?”

  Deirdre’s brow drew together, appearing confused by the question. “Do Macrae’s not use soapwort for bathing?”

  Soapwort? That was something a healer probably should have known. Elizabeth bluffed. “Aye, Deirdre, but it has something else in it. Lavender?”

  Deirdre smiled and nodded. “Aye, sometimes we add lavender or rose petals when making it. Do ye like it?”

  “Aye, I do. It has a lovely fragrance.”

  Deirdre beamed, clearly pleased. “Well, we’d best get ye in the tub before the water cools. I’ll help ye.”

  Help her? “I don’t need help bathing.”

  The maid blushed. “I’m sorry. I forgot ye aren’t a noblewoman. Ye seem so important. I’ll just bank the fire and leave a couple of pitchers of hot water here beside the tub to rinse yer hair with.”

  That was good, Elizabeth had no idea how to bank a fire. “Thank ye.”

  “Do ye need anything else?”

  “Nay, I don’t think so. Thank ye.”

  “When ye’re done, ye can pull this plug.” Deirdre showed her a wooden plug, stoppering a hole on the back side of the tub. When the plug was pulled, it would empty in to a curved wooden channel that sloped downward and through an opening in the wall.

  “Where does the water go?”

  “Outside.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “That much is apparent. Where does it go after that?”

  Deirdre blushed. “Of course, that was silly of me. The channel carries the water far enough away from the building to where it can drain into the ground.”

  Elizabeth nodded. It was a relatively good way to discard “grey water” and certainly made emptying the tub easy.

  “If ye don’t need me, then, I’ll wait for ye in the great hall. It is probably best if ye go there to dry yer hair. The fires are larger and hotter, it’ll dry more quickly. Then I’ll show ye to yer chamber. I expect ye’re tired after traveling for so long.”

  “Thank ye, Deirdre, I am tired.”

  When Deirdre had left, Elizabeth undressed and climbed in the tub. The hot bath was a little slice of heaven after three days of travel. She had a large soaking tub in her bathroom at home that, with the push of a button, became a whirlpool. She had never actually used it but as she closed her eyes enjoying the tranquility of soaking in this little wooden tub, she wondered why.

  Sadly, the water began to cool too soon. She sighed, opened her eyes and began to wash with the soapwort solution. She was struck again by how very willowy Elsie was. Elizabeth had never thought of herself as beautiful, at least not by twenty-first century standards. She was too short and much too curvy. She marveled at the feel of Elsie’s long, slender legs and the delicate curve of her hips to a narrow waist. She had given up a bit of real-estate in her bust, but what she had now could only be described as perky. That was certainly different. She giggled to herself. Elsie had the kind of body most modern men loved. Of course she might not have a particularly attractive face—Elizabeth didn’t know as she still hadn’t seen her own reflection—but Cade had certainly been interested. Smiling she thought that probably said more about his intense sexuality than it did about her appearance.

  Still the idea of such a beautiful man making love to her was tempting. Nay Elizabeth, don’t even let yourself imagine that. This wasn’t her body and she would not make casual decisions that might have far-reaching consequences.

  She sighed and finished her bath by washing her hair and rinsing it with the pitchers of hot water. Elizabeth climbed out of the tub, chilling almost instantly. She wrapped herself in the linen toweling and grabbing her bundle, moved close to the fire. She removed the belt and blanket. She had used the blanket the previous evening but she hadn’t delved into the rest of Elsie’s things. As it turned out the girl had very little—a few clothes, a pin that appeared to be silver and a comb. Elizabeth put on fresh undergarments, wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and sat by the fire to comb out Elsie’s long chestnut colored hair. The air was getting cold as the fire died low, so she worked quickly, getting as many tangles out as she could before braiding it loosely. She would do as Deirdre suggested and finish drying it in front of a warmer fire. She put on clean outer garments, pulled the plug on the tub, and rerolled the bundle of Elsie’s belongings before leaving the bathing room and making her way back to the keep.

  ~ * ~

  At the sound of the rear door opening, Cade glanced towards it. He smiled as Elsie stepped tentatively into the hall. This was the first time he had seen her looking unsure of herself. She clutched her bundle to her chest and glanced around nervously, until her eyes lit on Deirdre.

  The young maid hurried towards her. “Elsie, come sit close to the fire to dry yer hair. There’s no hearth in the room that’s been prepared for ye—only a small brazier. Ye’ll take a chill if ye go to bed with wet hair.” She ushered Elsie to the hearth on the opposite side of the hall. Elsie loosened her damp braid and leaning her head towards the fire, worked a comb through it. The women were too far away for him to hear their conversation, but he found it oddly erotic to watch Elsie comb her wet hair as it dried into a rich brown cloud touched with gold. She was beautiful and very desirable.

  Long after the evening meal was over, Cade had stayed at the table drinking ale with Eric. Before Elsie returned, he had glanced towards the rear door every time someone came through it.

  After he had done this several times, Eric nudged him. “Are ye expecting someone?”

  Cade frowned. “Of course I am. I intend to caution her one more time about her sharp tongue.”

  Eric had been clearly amused. “Ah it’s her sharp tongue ye’re thinking about.”

  “Aye, if she doesn’t rein it in—around Da at least—ye can be certain there will be consequences.” Cade grinned at Eric’s sk
eptical expression. “I won’t deny also being intrigued by her. She is…unusual.”

  Eric had snorted at Cade’s choice of words. “That’s an understatement. She’s very pretty—if a bit too thin. Still, this is unlike you. You’re usually drawn to the lassies who are first drawn to ye.”

  “Aye, usually. But she’s perhaps the most alluring woman I’ve ever encountered and I’m not sure I want anyone else to discover her charming wee self until I’ve had the chance to prove her wrong.”

  “About what?”

  “About being able to restrain herself and resist my charms.”

  Eric had chuckled. “This is definitely going to be entertaining. She’s not just going to fall into yer bed as most lassies do.”

  “Lassies don’t fall into my bed.”

  “False modesty isn’t becoming. Ye can’t deny that ye’ve never had to work much to gain a lass’s attention. But ye’ll have to work for this one. Perhaps the fact that she won’t be easy to win will make victory all the sweeter.”

  “Ye’re an arse, Eric.”

  “I’m an arse because ye’ve let a lass get under yer skin?”

  “Ye’re an arse because ye keep braying on about foolish things.”

  “Foolish things…now I’m glad ye mentioned that because enticing that bossy little bit into yer bed might be exceedingly foolish.”

  “Why, pray tell, do ye think it would it be different from a tumble with any other willing lass?”

  “It probably wouldn’t be if she hadn’t gotten under yer skin.” Cade had scowled at him but Eric went on, ignoring his cousin’s displeasure. “And frankly, it might not matter quite as much if she were a clanswoman. The romance would run its course or if it didn’t yer da might be convinced to let ye marry within the clan.”

  Cade hadn’t been able to keep from snorting. “That would be foolish, and highly unlikely.”

  “But still possible.”

  “Aye, I suppose it’s remotely possible. So, since we are discussing the extremely improbable, why would she be different from any other common lass?”

  “Because that common lass belongs to Laird Macrae, not yer da. She has to be returned to him, and likely very soon. It would seem that she’s already done all she can do. Wynda doesn’t require the attention of a midwife for the next six months—she just needs to stay in bed. And there’s no chance under heaven that Laird Macrae will allow someone with her skills to stay here forever. She’s a valuable asset to his clan. I expect he’d sooner marry ye to one of his wee lassies.”

  “They’re bairns.”

  “My point, exactly. He wouldn’t make such a betrothal. And that’s what daughters are for—making alliances.”

  Cade had arched an eyebrow at his cousin. “Ye might want to avoid ever saying that to the lass ye find yerself betrothed to.”

  “’Twas a jest, but ye know I’m right—Macrae won’t allow her to stay here. So if ye do manage to win her, don’t make more of it than it is.”

  “Why are ye worried? I haven’t lost my heart to a lass yet.”

  Eric had shrugged. “This one seems different.”

  “Ye’re daft. She’s just an attractive lass.”

  “Perhaps, but never say I didn’t warn ye.”

  “I won’t because the warning was completely unnecessary. Make no mistake, Eric, I would never make a decision that would not be in this clan’s best interests. I am intrigued by her, but I am in no danger of losing my heart.”

  Eric had barked a laugh. “I believe ye, thousands wouldn’t.”

  “Arse,” muttered Cade.

  “Well, coz, after almost six days in the saddle and sleeping on the frozen ground most nights, ye can wait alone to tangle with that lass’s sharp tongue,” his innuendo was clear, “I’m going to bed. Good night,” he had called over his shoulder as he left.

  Now, as Cade watched the beautiful lass from a distance, it irritated him to admit, even to himself—his cousin had been right. He was drawn to Elsie in a way he never had been to any other lass before her. He’d spent much of the last three days in her company—hell most of that time, she’d been on his lap with his arms around her—and he’d quite enjoyed it. Perhaps it was just the thrill of the chase, but there was no question, he desired her.

  Elsie had evidently finished drying her hair, because she confined it once again in a long braid before picking up her small bundle.

  That was his cue. He stood and crossed the hall towards the entrance to the tower stairs, reaching it just as Deirdre and Elsie did. “And where are ye lovely lassies going?”

  Deirdre smiled shyly and curtsied. “Good evening, Sir Cade. I promised Lady Lilliana I’d see to Elsie. I’m showing her to her chamber.”

  “Ye needn’t bother, I can do that. It’s late, I’m going up to my own chamber and I need to speak with Elsie anyway. Which room did my aunt have prepared?”

  “The small one at the end of the corridor, just down from the Laird’s chamber, sir.”

  “Well then, Elsie, after ye.” He motioned towards the stairs. “Good night, Deirdre.”

  “Good night, sir.” She bobbed another curtsy.

  Elsie frowned, but didn’t argue. He followed as she climbed the stairs. The enticing scent of lavender trailed in her wake. When they reached the landing, he placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her down the corridor stopping in front of the last door.

  Turning to face him with her back to the door she said, “Ye told Deirdre ye needed to speak with me.”

  His lips twitched as he suppressed a smile. She actually believed she was going to control this encounter. He leaned in close, gaining no small bit of satisfaction on hearing her breath hitch as he did. Reaching behind her, he lifted the latch and opened her door. “After ye.”

  She blushed, but didn’t move. “Ye don’t need to come in to tell me whatever’s on yer mind.”

  “Aye. I do.” He took hold of her shoulders, turned her around and gently pushed her inside the room before closing the door behind him.

  Once in the room she spun to face him. “What right do ye have—”

  He put a finger on her lips silencing her. “Not another word.”

  “How da—”

  He silenced her again. This time he put his hand behind her neck pulled her to him, and crushed his lips to hers. She was warm and soft and tasted as sweet as he had imagined. When he felt her begin to respond, he broke the kiss, letting go and taking a step back.

  He had to stifle a smile again at her flustered expression.

  Her mouth opened once more, as if to speak, and he held up one hand. “Ye’ll remain silent, or I’ll give yer tongue something better to do until ye learn how to keep it still.”

  She scowled, her lips pressed into a hard line, but she said nothing.

  “That’s a good lass.”

  If anything, her scowl deepened.

  “Now, over the last few days I’ve repeatedly told ye to mind yer tongue. This very evening, I’m certain those words were barely out of my mouth, before ye stirred my father’s ire. Ye told me ye hadn’t spent much time in Laird Macrae’s company but surely ye know better than to speak to him as ye did to my father. The Macrae is not known for his gentle nature and I’m certain ye would have paid dearly if ye’d shown him such impudence.”

  Elsie remained quiet but fear flitted briefly across her features.

  If that’s what it took, he would use it. “By contrast, my father is a much more tolerant man but Lady Wynda’s wishes are all that stayed his hand tonight. Since ye’ve sent her to bed for six months—it’s unlikely she’ll be able to stop it again and as much as I might want to, neither will I.”

  He saw that flash of fear again and to his surprise, he felt guilty at having been the one to put it there. Still, he’d feel worse if she crossed Da again and suffered because of it. “Lady Wynda needs ye and for that reason, ye’ve been granted a measure of respect not normally given a lass of no standing. While something tells me ‘tis yer bol
d self-assurance that gives yer clan confidence in ye, ye must remember yer place. Particularly around my father and for that matter, Uncle Hamish too. Elsie, please don’t give either of them a reason to punish ye.”

  Suddenly she looked very young and vulnerable—he hadn’t seen that in her before. It stirred something deep within him. He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. “I don’t want ye hurt. Do ye understand?”

  She gave a small nod.

  He smiled. “Ye can speak now, lass.”

  “I have nothing to say.”

  “Well, that may be a first.”

  She looked away. He wasn’t sure if she was angry or embarrassed. He lifted her chin to peer into her eyes. She had beautiful, silvery gray eyes, which at the moment were unreadable. “I don’t know what to make of ye, lass. Ye intrigue me…nearly as much as ye irritate me.”

  There it was—that flash of spirit returned.

  She stepped back, away from his touch. “Well, if I irritate ye so, feel free to take yer leave.”

  He chuckled. “Not yet. I have one more thing to tell ye.”

  “What is it?” she demanded with her hands on her hips.

  He took a step towards her and pulled her close. “Only that ye might want to mind yer tongue around me too. I won’t punish ye, but I’ll be only too happy to silence it in my own way.” He kissed her again. If he had felt any resistance he would have released her, but on the contrary, she seemed to melt against him. He deepened the kiss, plundering her mouth with his tongue. When he finally pulled away, her cheeks were flushed and, to his delight, she looked a little off balance and starry-eyed.

  He winked at her. “I’m glad to see it works.”

  Regaining her composure, she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Good night, sir.”

  “Good night, Elsie.” Cade grinned to himself as he left her chamber. Aye, he’d prove her wrong.

  Chapter 9

  As tired as she was, Elizabeth lay awake, her head spinning. She couldn’t even begin to process her attraction to Cade MacKenzie. She had been in her last year of medical school before she had ever connected with someone enough to date him seriously. That had ended when they had accepted residencies in different cities. Since then she had dated a few men casually and while she’d enjoyed their company, she had never been so befuddled by one. She wanted Cade’s arms around her, his mouth on hers, but good Lord, when he kissed her every mature, rational thought fled.