Page 15 of Love Beyond Time
As I walked behind Mary, I rationalized my worries away by concentrating on two pieces of information that stuck out in my mind.
One, if both my mother and I had been hurt in the collapse, I figured there would have been no one there to get help. If Mom hadn’t been able to get help, I would be dead rather than sitting in a hospital bed in the dreamlike coma I was in now. Mom was most likely fine. I just hadn’t elected to let her into my dream yet, I supposed.
Two, regardless of what had happened, there was nothing that I could do about it now.
Unnecessary stress wasn’t good for the healing process, so until I woke up and knew with certainty what had occurred, I was going to enjoy the surreal experience I was having now.
I looked up as Mary came to a halt in front of me and realized instantly that I had been paying little attention to the route we had taken to the door in front of which I was now standing.
It was a magnificent door. Strong yet feminine, the door was carved with precise detail that swirled in and around the wood with great craftsmanship. I thought it odd that I would be dreaming in such detail, but Mary interrupted me before I could explore the thought further.
“This is yer bedchamber, lass. Well, at least for a few hours anyway. After the wedding, ye will move to the laird’s bedchamber for the wedding night.” She paused to push the door open and gestured, nudging me inside. “I think ye’ll find the room quite nice. The laird’s mother used this as her own special sanctuary while she was living. Go on, dearie. Old Mary will be back shortly. I’ll have a hot bath brought up for ye.”
Before I could utter a reply, Mary was gone.
Alone, I stepped inside the doorway. My first thought was that it was far too large. My entire living room and kitchen could easily fit within this one room. Why did anyone need so much room to sleep? But as I continued to make my way through the space I realized the excess room made it easy to breathe.
The room exuded calm, and I allowed myself to fall onto the bed in the center of it. The bed was covered in the same shades of purple that were mirrored throughout the rest of the room. I was just snuggling deep down into the lush fabrics when the chamber door flew open and Mary rushed in.
“Come on, lass. Up ye go and into the tub.” She grabbed me by the arm, hauling me up out of the bed.
My head swam once again as I stood, and I gripped the wooden bedpost to hold myself up as I watched several young men carry a large oval-shaped basin past the doorway. Several steaming buckets of water were poured into the tub, and the servants retreated, closing the door behind them.
As soon as everyone was gone, Mary reached forward, fumbling with my clothes.
“What are you doing?” I pushed the old woman’s hands away from me.
“What does it look like I’m doing, lass? We doona have much time. Ye are to be at yer wedding promptly! Get yerself in that tub, dearie.” Mary’s voice was shrill and demanding as she placed her hands on her hips and glared straight at me.
“Ok. Alright.” I held up a hand to Mary and self-consciously stripped down, hopping in the water as fast as I could. The heat of the water certainly felt real and it briefly crossed my mind that I couldn’t remember ever having such a sense-filled dream before.
Mary’s face seemed to soften as she watched me hiss at the touch of the steaming water. “Lass, I’m sorry everything is happening so fast for ye. I was hoping I would have time to explain, but I’m afraid that will have to wait.”
I wondered what there was to explain in a dream. Dreams often made no sense. But as was becoming habit, I had no time to respond before Mary continued talking.
“Here’s what ye will be needing to know today.” Mary sank down onto the edge of the bed and crossed her arms with a look of exasperation. “Yer name is Blaire MacChristy. Yer father’s name is Donal, and it is yer duty to marry the laird, Eoin Conall, to help provide protection for yer father’s territory.”
I splashed water on my face, scrubbing my body with my hands as I listened to Mary’s instructions. Yes, the water was definitely hot. My skin turned pink as I lifted my arm out of it to scrub myself clean.
“Ye look just like Blaire, so once we get ye in yer dress and pull yer hair up, there’s not a soul in all of Scotland who would be able to say otherwise. That is, until ye speak, dearie. I’ve never heard anyone talk so plain. Old Mary’s not so sure what to do about that.”
Mary stood and paced back and forth around the room. The water seemed to help my aching head, and as I reached over the edge of the tub to grab a cloth and dry myself, I noticed my head didn’t spin with the effort.
“Perhaps, I can try to mimic your accent.” I began to dry myself, feeling refreshed and much more like myself.
“Accent? What do ye mean, lass?” Mary stopped pacing and pivoted to face me.
“I mean, that ye doona have to worry so much. I can try to mimic the way ye speak.” I smiled as I tried to tilt my words into the best Scottish accent I could muster. Thank goodness for all the books I’d read aloud to my kindergarteners. They always loved it when I used voices, so over the years I’d developed quite the repertoire of accents.
“Ah! That’s not bad, lass! Perhaps, ye can do it after all. That’s always what the late Laird Alasdair said: that ye’d be a blessing to us all. But I never believed his stories until this day.”
“What stories?” With my head no longer hurting, I found myself quite interested in what Mary was saying.
“Oh, I doona have time to talk to ye about that today, dear. Excuse me. I should have said, I doona have time to talk to ye about that today, miss. Old Mary has to start calling ye miss, if yer going to be lady of the castle.” Mary paused and chuckled. “I never woulda believed that today would turn out as it has, lass. Oh my, it’s been one turnip of a day for Mary. Not to mention yerself, dear. Ugh. I mean, miss. It’s been a trying day for ye as well.”
I laughed and listened to Mary ramble as I shrugged into the pale blue gown that she was holding up in my direction.
“Oh, Mary, it’s stunning!” I looked down at the bodice, quite taken with the image below me. It was the most elegant piece of clothing I had ever worn, and I wondered why women didn’t wear dresses more often. I couldn’t even see myself yet, with the way Mary had me turned away from the mirror, but I felt beautiful inside the flowing fabric.
