Always Mine Read Online Free PDF Page B

for the cloth and pot of soap and carefully washed her face. Elise insisted on sham-pooing her hair.
    “I have washed away the blood and dirt. Tilt your head back so I may rinse it.”
    When the soap was gone, Lydia pushed the hair from her face, feeling her tresses’ unfamiliar length. Her eyes widened.
    “Please. Open the shutters.” Seeing Elise’s blank look, Lydia pointed to the window opening. Elise scampered over and unlatched the shutter, letting in the soft afternoon light.
    Flowing over Lydia’s shoulders was a mass of dark chestnut hair with deep hints of auburn. Her hands shot up, splashing water over the sides of the tub. Elise jumped at the soaking she received.
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    “Oh . . . my . . . God.” For the first time, Lydia realized how changed she herself was. Disbelief filled her as she stared at her arms and studied her hands. She lifted her legs abruptly, again sloshing water over the sides of the tub. She gasped.
    Her legs were shorter, more slender. Why, they even looked delicate, as if she had never run a marathon or rollerbladed.
    “Merciful saints! Why are you flopping around?” Elise cupped her hands beside her mouth and stage whispered, “Are you having a brain fit? I must get Mother. Please, do not drown while I am gone.”
    “Don’t you dare leave. Sit still while I figure this out.” Her heart pounding, Lydia forced herself to breathe slowly and calmly. She stared at her legs and shook her head. It can’t be. Grabbing the sides of the tub, she stood and looked down.
    Her breasts were small but perfect with tips the color of pink roses. A flat, firm stomach followed. She looked lower still to see her woman’s mound tufted with soft brown hair.
    When she spied firm thighs without a hint of cellulite, her knees folded and she dropped down into the tub.
    “Oh, Brianna, you will surely drown if you do not stop.”
    Elise darted around the tub like a frightened squirrel.
    “Let me think.” Lydia’s mind was in turmoil. She felt her face. Although the slender nose felt familiar, the rest seemed more delicate. Never had she dreamed that she had a different body. Yet it had to be a dream.
    Still, it felt real—her painful headache, being hungry, feeling everything she touched and even smelling the rose soap.
    Most important was the relief she felt when she used the chamber pot. That, too, had never happened in her dreams.
    Stepping from the bath, she wrapped herself in a drying cloth and went to sit beside the large brazier to dry her heavy length of hair. Trying to arrange it with the wide-toothed comb Elise handed her, she soon discovered her long, curly
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    Sophia Johnson
    tresses came with a problem. Patiently, she untangled the snarls as Elise rummaged through the carved trunk.
    “The scullery maid said that giant Scotsman went to Saint Anne’s after matins this morn and returned in a rage.” Elise briskly shook several garments in the air. “He challenged every one of your Saxon guards to meet him in the training field.” Eyes wide with fright, she lowered the garments and whispered, “Do you think he has skewered them with his sword?”
    Lydia knew she was talking about the macho man who thought it was his God-given right to command her.
    “Not damned likely. Uh, where are my things? I must get dressed. Does the hotel serve the evening meal at sunset?”
    Elise flapped the handful of clothes close to Lydia’s eyes.
    “Blessed saints. You cannot go below.” Elise waved her arms around adding an extra denial. “You do not see your clothes and you forget your name. I do not understand half of what you say, for your speech is most strange. Mayhap ’tis that rock’s fault?”
    She sounded hopeful.
    After Elise slipped a delicate silk smock over Lydia’s head and followed it with a light green tunic, Lydia sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on the old-fashioned hose. Hmmm.
    How did she secure them around her thighs?
    Noting her hesitation, Elise shook her head