Morning came too quickly as Edwina turned in her bed, the long gown wrapping around her like the red stripe on a white candy cane. She pulled it free and stuck her feet atop the covers, stretching as she woke. Why hadn’t Bertie come this morning? Surely she was up and about. The woman probably never slept with both eyes shut.
Her mind danced as she lifted her well-rested body from the bed and turned on the bath water. Just as she was slipping beneath the bubbles, she heard Bertie’s heavy footfall.
“Lass, ye ’ave run yer own bath?”
She sounded upset. “Of course, Bertie—Bertilda—you have plenty to do. I love this scent.”
“Don’t change the topic,” Bertie warned. “And call me Bertilda. I’m tired of ye saying Bertie,” she sputtered as she gathered Edwina’s tossed clothing.
“Yes, Bertie—I mean Bertilda,” Edwina said sweetly. “As you wish.”
Bertie harrumphed and closed the door behind her, opened it again, and announced, “Breakfast in an hour.” Then she was gone.
An hour? What time was it anyway? For some reason this castle had no clocks.
Edwina hummed as she shampooed her hair, wondering which book she would read today. This was her last day at the castle, and instead of trying to run, she had decided sometime during the night she would make the best of things and make full use of the library today, as, no doubt, Mr. Dunnegin and his fiancée would be making plans for their nuptials. She happily let her mind create a different heroine than that of Ilana for her Scottish hero. The book would weave a much sweeter life for the handsome Scot. Thinking thusly, she removed herself from the still warm water, toweled try, and wrapped the cherry pink towel around her body.
Off to her bag to find something suitable to wear for a Sunday’s pleasure. Upon opening her case, she picked up her Bible. Oh Lord, I have been so remiss.... Here I am running around with all my worries, and I have not talked with You. After a half hour of reading and some overdue prayer, Edwina lifted herself from the chair and pulled on a pair of worn jeans and a pink T-shirt. Planting her bare feet in the black flats, she took them off again and let them dangle from her fingertips. No way was she going to be found this day. She wanted to be alone.
After putting her ear to the door, no sound came. She opened it ever so slowly. The wood creaked loudly. Tiptoeing on bare feet, she descended the long staircase successfully and silently made her way to the library. Upon entering she saw the drapes already open and began perusing the book- shelves. Something caught her eye above.
Some of the oldest books lay on the top shelf.
It must be a half story up, she thought, then drew the ladder along the rails and positioned it squarely to the left so she could reach the desired volume. Edwina climbed slowly, curled her toes around a rung, reached for the book, and had it in her hand when a voice sounded from behind her.
“Lass, I’ll get it.”
The heavy volume fell from her grasp, and she tried to catch it, nearly knocking herself free of the ladder.
“Must you always come up behind me with that shouting voice?” Edwina let loose.
“Must ye always be aboot something unsafe?” he shouted back as he picked up the book off the floor, smoothing the pages in his large hands. “Do ye always climb library ladders in yer bare feet?”
Edwina looked down. Her shoes sat at angles on the floor below. Wouldn’t you know.
She sought another topic. “It seems I ’ave been nothing but trouble for ye ever since I arrived,” she said contritely and meant every word.
“Ye? Now ye speak like one of us Scots.” His laughter boomed throughout the room, successfully announcing to everyone where they were. So much for a quiet day alone. She slowly descended and slipped on her shoes.
“What is the noise aboot?” Bertie stood in the doorway, hands on hips.
“Nothing amiss, go aboot your business, Bertilda.” The Scot’s voice held the hint that he was still laird of the castle.
Bertie disappeared.
“After breakfast I’m leaving for the farm. Think ye can abide here without the servants calling me back?”
He was suddenly grumpy, but she had made him laugh already this morning. “Oh yes,” Edwina said sweetly, her hands behind her back. “I will do just fine. In fact, I was about to read for the entire day. If you don’t mind...,” she added.
“Do as ye wish. It is yer affair.” He hesitated at the door. “Is there anything ye’d be needing?”
“Oh no, thank you.” Edwina moved toward him. “You have been most kind, especially in light of all the... well...you know... I have been a handful, and I’m sorry for any inconvenience I have caused you. It’s because of your kindness I have been so well received in your Scotland.”
“Nicely said.” He nodded. “Well then, I will be aboot my business and you yers.” He bowed slightly. “Did you get your writing done last eve?”
He had noticed her gone early from the party.
Edwina’s eyes fell to the book in her hand. She turned it over in her palms and looked out the window before she answered.
“I... I fell asleep.”
The Scot said nothing else. Edwina could hear the clicking of his boots.
For some reason, Edwina felt melancholy. The Scot had not been as friendly. Something about his eyes. A certain... was it sadness perhaps? She shook the thoughts free of her mind and picked up the volume, soon caught up in the throes of World War II.