Free My Laird's Castle by Bess McBride Page A

stopped for a moment, but the sky remained overcast.  
    “Where is yer Montana then?” Colin asked as we strolled through the rain-drenched garden with its rows of brightly colored flowers, herbs and colorful plants I didn’t even recognize.
    I told him about Whitefish, Montana, and its proximity to Glacier National Park, the beauty of the Rocky Mountains so different from the Highlands and yet so similar. I told him about my life as a librarian, quiet and until now, fairly serene. I had already told him about trains the night before, and I related Whitefish’s connection as a stop on the former Great Northern Railway.  
    We walked for a couple of hours, until a light rain encouraged us to return to the house.  
    “Have Mrs. Agnew or Sarah draw ye a bath to warm yer bones. I wish to go down to the river to see if it remains flooded.”
    “No! Take me with you. I want to go.” I clutched his arm.
    “Ye canna, woman!” Colin pulled my hand from his coat and brought it to his lips again. “The weather is frightful, and I canna have ye taking chill. I concern myself wi yer health in our wet Scottish weather.” He shook his head as if he had reconsidered. “Nay. Up ye go. Warm yerself. I will see ye at supper.”
    I could do nothing but watch him disappear out the back door again, assuming he was going to make his way around to the front of the house and head for the river.  
    I slipped out of the clogs and cloak and headed toward my room, wondering how to find Mrs. Agnew. But Mrs. Agnew, that worthy woman, seemed to know when she was needed. She appeared at my side as I began to climb the stairs.
    “Will ye be needing that bath now, mistress?”  
    Was she psychic? Or just Celtic?
    “Yes, Mrs. Agnew. I would like to take a warm bath, if it’s not too much trouble.”
    “Not at all, mistress. Sarah will bring the water up presently. I have laid out a dress for supper this evening. I’ll bring a dish of tea up after ye’ve bathed.”
    I stopped on the stairs and turned to look at her.
    “Oh, Mrs. Agnew, you are a treasure,” I said with a smile.
    The housekeeper’s cheeks reddened. “Oh, awa wi ye!” Her Scots dialect thickened with embarrassment, and my smile widened.  
    “You are,” I repeated, and I turned to climb the stairs, wondering what fabulous costume she had set out for me today.

Chapter Six
    Bathing was an interesting adventure, if only climbing in and out of the steep-sided tub, which resembled something between an oversized cream pitcher and a barrel, albeit in a lovely shade of brass.  
    Young Sarah made several trips with buckets of hot water, even after I thought she was done and I had climbed in. I quickly threw a linen cloth over my chest when she came in for what I hoped was the last time.
    “Mrs. Agnew says I’m to ask if ye need help washing yer hair,” she said with a small curtsey.
    I had thought to dip my hair in the now soapy water and hope for the best in the absence of clear water to rinse it with, but I improvised.
    “No, thank you, Sarah, but could you hand me the water pitcher there? I’ll just rinse with that.”
    She picked up the pitcher near the washbasin and handed it to me.  
    “It is cold, mistress. Shall I pour it into yer water and put some of this hot water in it?”
    “Oh, sure, that would be great.” And so she did. I eyed the steaming water being poured into the pitcher and thought I’d better wait a bit for it to cool down before washing and rinsing my hair.  
    “Do you wash your hair with this soap, or do you have a special shampoo?” I asked, holding up the bar of lavender soap.
    “Shampoo, mistress? I dinna ken what ye mean. Her ladyship washed her hair with the lavender soap. The servants have naethin so fine.”
    I bit my lip. “Too soon, I guess,” I murmured under my breath.
    “That’s okay,” I said to Sarah. “Thank you for everything. I can’t imagine how heavy those buckets of water must be.”
    Sarah blinked, and her