She wanted to ask him when Gavin would return, but she already knew the answer. At dusk.
She closed the door and inspected the food. Warmth still emanated off the fresh-baked brown bread. Inhaling the heavenly scent, she smoothed on soft butter and took a huge bite. "Mmm." A chunk of yellow cheese sat on a small wooden cheese board. She cut off a slice with the knife.
It reminded her of a modern-day cheese sandwich. He had also included a bowl of pea soup and a small glass of wine. The pea soup made her leery, but after a small taste, she found it delicious.
After finishing the food, she tugged back the drapery to find droplets of water on the wavy glass. She gauged the time to be mid-to-late afternoon, though, with the low-hanging clouds and misting rain, she couldn't be sure. No one here needed to know the exact time. They didn't run to appointments, classes, or meetings. She found it freeing, in a way, to eat whenever a hunger pain struck instead of at a specific time. No one cared if she lazed about in bed all day.
But she cared. She was no slacker. She had always had goals and been driven to pursue them. Here, yes, it might be like a vacation, but could she live this way forever, having no aspirations or career?
Her whole life would change along with her identity. She would no longer be a professor.
"Who am I? Wife of Gavin," she whispered. Was it enough?
A fist pounded on the door, startling her.
She jumped and glared at the door. "Yes," she called.
"M'lady?" Hewie's voice.
Pulling open the door, she found him standing in the corridor, looking awkward and red-faced.
He bowed. "Crocker sent you a bucket of warm water and this." He placed a plaid wrapped parcel tied with a string into her hands, set the bucket inside the doorway, then dashed away, clumping down the stairs a second later.
"What on earth?" She frowned down at the wooden bucket of steaming water—for a sponge bath, she supposed. That had to be why Hewie had bolted. He didn't want to mention bathing to the chief's wife. And what was this plaid? A throw or blanket?
She closed the door and barred it, then untied the parcel. Unfolding the fabric, which smelled of lavender, she discovered a plaid skirt wrapped around a clean smock and a blue bodice. Wow. Had Crocker done this for her… washed those old clothes so she could change? How sweet of him. It almost brought tears to her eyes.
She would have to thank him and have him teach her how to do seventeenth-century laundry. She would have to be her own scullery maid.
Dang, how she missed her washer and dryer.
Sighing, she picked up the bucket of water, which contained about two gallons, and poured some into the basin. Tub baths required a tremendous amount of work from this skeleton crew. She wouldn't want to lug twenty gallons of water in buckets up all those stairs and couldn't ask Hewie or Crocker to do it again. She would have to get used to sponge baths if she stayed here.
After bathing, she put on the clean clothes and headed into the corridor, then up the narrow stairs toward the battlements.
"Where are you off to, m'lady?" Ewan startled her. He stood in the darkness at the top of the steps, in front of the door.
She assumed he would know. "The roof."
"His lairdship wishes you to stay inside because of the witch, you ken."
"So, I'm not allowed to go outside? Even onto the battlements."
"That hag, Wilona MacRae, is trying to kill you. She can fly onto the battlements."
Dani blew out an annoyed breath. She couldn't stay caged in this dark, gloomy castle all day, forever. She could hardly see out the few narrow windows in the thick walls… not to mention the pervading cloudiness outside.
"Fine." Clenching her teeth, she turned and trod away, back to Gavin's room, and slammed the door. At least the window here was a bit larger than the one in the room where she'd first slept.
As the evening grew darker and the rain outside heavier, she lit two candles and paced. Why did Gavin return so late every day? What could possibly demand so much of his time, while she had more free time than she knew what to do with? She would have to find a chore or hobby.
The door opened, startling her. She spun to see Gavin sticking his head in for a brief glance, his hair wet from the rain. Still annoyed with him for abandoning her all day, she scowled.
He opened the door wider and motioned Crocker into the room. "Just place it on the table, if you please."
The cook deposited a tray heaped with food onto the table near the door, then bowed and headed out.
"We appreciate all your hard work, Crocker," Gavin called after him, then closed the door and faced her.
