Worse, she didn’t want to be filmed in the tub, with or without the gown. But then Fiona sprinkled fresh lavender sprigs into the water, and the bath looked more tempting than ever.
“It’s either this or no bath at al ,” Fiona said. She took Chloe by the hand and led her toward the tub.
“Everyone else has bathed in their gowns.”
Chloe folded her arms. “They have? Who?”
“Let’s see, Lady Grace, Mrs. Crescent, Mrs.—”
“Al right. I’m in.” Fiona handed Chloe in and she sank into the water as the gown bil owed out around her.
Within seconds, her butt had gone numb. “This water is f-freezing!” She popped up out of the water like a piece of toast from a toaster, only not as warm.
“It’s colder out of the water than it is in,” Fiona observed tartly, and pushed Chloe’s shoulders back under. Brush in hand, she scrubbed her mistress’s neck, hair, and shoulders. “You’l get used to the temperature.”
Chloe cringed. The brush hurt and the wet gown clung to her ribs. “Why is the water so cold?” Her teeth were chattering.
Fiona scrubbed a little harder. “You real y don’t know, do you?”
“No.” Goose bumps on Chloe’s arms and knees were showing through the gown. She brought her knees up to her chest and eyed the camerawoman who was filming discreetly from the side.
Fiona ladled water the temperature of frozen vodka over Chloe’s head. “First, the footmen had to pump water from the wel ,” she said. “Then they had to carry it up two flights of stairs, with wooden yokes on their backs, until they dumped it in here. The two of them had to go up and down about fifteen times.”
Sorry as she felt for the footmen, Chloe touched her lips and wondered if they’d turned blue yet.
“That work alone took the better part of the day. Then, of course, we started the bathing in order of rank. Lady Grace went first, then her chaperone, then yours, then Julia’s chaperone, then Julia, and now you. After you, it’l be the servants’ turn, starting with Lady Grace’s maidservant.”
Chloe saw that a long, curly blond hair was floating in the water along with some of the froth from the raw egg shampoo and she pul ed it out, draping it on the side of the tub.
“After a few people have been in the water, it gets colder, it seems.” Fiona rinsed the egg out of Chloe’s hair with the ladle. “Best to be first.”
Chloe froze, if an already frozen person could freeze any more. She shot up out of the water and splashed both Fiona and the camerawoman.
“What?! I’m taking a bath in
Fiona looked up at her. “Wel , yes, of course. Only the titled ladies get fresh water. But you knew that, didn’t you?”
“Ugggh!” Chloe vaulted out of the bathtub, knocking over the silver pitcher of lavender, which clanked to the ground. While Fiona bent to pick it up, Chloe whisked a linen sheet from a peg, wrapped herself up, and squished down the hal in her wet feet.
“Does this mean you’re finished with your bath, then?” Fiona cal ed out after her.
Chloe had climbed onto her sagging mattress and lay shivering in the linen sheet, which didn’t work anything like a terrycloth towel.
“A lady doesn’t scream in her bath,” Mrs. Crescent declared as she lumbered into the bedchamber, Fifi and Fiona right behind her.
“I know,” Chloe said while Fiona rubbed her hair with the linen towel. “Tel me. How does a Regency lady quit being on a reality-TV show? I want to go home.”
Fifi chose that moment to bound onto the bed and wag his curl of a tail at Chloe. Someone had removed his bandage and there was only a scrape on his back.
“Quit?” Mrs. Crescent settled into the mahogany chaise with the gorgeous scrol work at each end. She rested her head on a tasseled cylindrical pil ow, closing her eyelids. “You can’t. You told me yourself things are heating up.”
Although Fiona had laid out an amazing blue gown, Chloe pul ed on her nightgown.
Fiona folded her arms. “What about your dinner gown, miss?”
“I’m too tired for dinner. Tired of suckling pigs and quail. Tired of a cesspool instead of a bath. Tired of chamber pots. I’m tired of Lady Grace’s attacks both by bul et, mince pie, and barely minced words. I quit.”
Mrs. Crescent shook her head. “But you look gorgeous, dear. I believe you’ve lost more than a few pounds. You’re not a quitter.”
“Oh, yes I am. If you only knew!”
She’d quit her marriage for one thing. She was the one who left Winthrop. He didn’t have the guts to leave her.
As these thoughts swirled through her mind, the camerawoman opened the door and continued filming.
Mrs. Crescent leveraged her pregnant self off the chaise and clapped for Fifi to fol ow her. “Sounds like you need some rest. Just ring if you want a tray brought up to you, dear.”
Fiona stoked the fire, drew the drapes, and snuffed out the candles.
Chloe fel asleep to the scuttling sounds she had been hearing every night now. She hugged her elbows and
