Page 34 of Hold Fast

Another sigh, longer this time.

“He’d been raised for it, trained since birth to become laird. But I dinnae think he wanted it. At least nae so soon. And I ken that it weighs heavily upon him. Duck your head again, Una. We must get you out before the water grows cold,” Cat commanded, and again Una obeyed.

When Una surfaced, Joan stood next to the tub with a large drying cloth warm from the fire. She wrapped it around Una, helped her out of the tub, and pushed her gently towards a chair by the hearth. Una sat, and Joan squeezed the water out of her hair with another cloth before running a wooden comb through the ebony locks. Soon, Una was warm and practically pink from the fire, her long hair gleaming behind her.

“I thought it was you,” Joan said as she ran the comb through her hair.

“Who?”

“Laird Stewart’s servant spoke of the Cameron healer and how skilled they had been, how much Lady Stewart trusted her. I thought it must have been you. I told the laird to fetch you.”

Una’s throat tightened with emotion.

“I am glad you did,” she whispered.

She was. Sitting before a fire, having been tended with careful hands and treated with kindness from the moment she had arrived, Una realized that shewasglad. She had found her lost friend. She had been assured safety. Perhaps she didn’t have to go to the Stewarts.

Joan guided Una to stand and removed the drying cloth from around her torso.

“Arms up,” Joan said brightly.

Una raised her arms and bent her knees so that Joan could slip a fine linen shift over her raised hands. Joan guided the fabric as it cascaded down Una’s body, over her breasts and the softness of her belly. She shivered.

“Here we are,” Cat said, approaching with a pale blue gown. Una could tell without touching it how soft the wool would feel.

“This color will make her eyes look even more stunning, aye, Joan?”

“Aye,” Joan agreed readily.

They worked together to tug the gown into place, lacing it up the back.

“It fits you perfectly!” Cat exclaimed.

Una smoothed her hands down the exquisite fabric, feeling her callouses catching on the fine weave.

“’Tis beautiful,” she said softly. “But I shouldnae wear something so fine. Icannaewear something so fine. I will ruin it within a day. Within the hour!”

“Pfft,” Cat said. “’Twas my mother’s gown, and it has sat in this trunk all these years. A gown like this should be worn to turn heads, nae sit in a chest tempting moths.”

“We can find you another dress for your bloodiest work, and you can keep this one for the rest of the time. I’ll loan you an apron in the meantime,” Joan said, tugging on Una’s hand. “Now come and sit and I’ll braid your hair.”

Una allowed herself to be led back to the chair in front of the fire and sat. Joan made quick work of plaiting Una’s hair.

Squeezing Una’s shoulder’s tightly, Joan said, “There. You always were such a beauty, Una.”

Una lurched to her feet at the memory of Malcolm Cameron muttering those same words to her as he kissed her hand before their handfasting ceremony. He had leered up at her, hovering over her knuckles, a cold glint in his eyes. “You always were such a beauty, lass.”

Una felt the blood drain from her face. Suddenly the room felt too small. She backed toward the door. “I thank you for the bath, but I must see to Connor,” she stammered before wrenching open the door.

She ran out the door and straight into a wall. A warm, solid wall that wrapped itself around her. She gasped and flinched away.

“Easy, Una,” Ewan said. “What is amiss?”

His hair was damp and he smelled clean, wearing a fresh leine and plaid.

“Nothing,” she snapped.

“Then why did you race out of Cat’s room like hell is on your heels?”