My Laird's Castle Read Online Free PDF Page B

behind me.  
    I leaned against the door, willing the strong oak to hold me up. My legs were weak, whether from exhaustion or traveling two and a half centuries into the past, I didn’t know.  
    I crossed the room and noted a white garment lying on the bed. Mrs. Agnew must have brought the nightgown in while I was downstairs. I wondered if this too was a garment worn by Colin’s wife. I was a bit squeamish about wearing such an intimate garment belonging to a dead woman, but then again, the alternative was my still-damp jeans and shirt or the beautiful velvet gown that I now wore. No, nightgown it would have to be.
    I unlaced my dress and slipped out of it, laying it out across a wooden trunk at the end of the bed. Slipping the nightgown over my head, I marveled at the softness of it. If I had to guess about clothing in the eighteenth-century Highlands, I would have thought everything would be wool, but this nightgown was definitely silk. In fact, I would not have imagined the porcelain tea service or the luxurious hangings, but then again, I was no historian. Or Colin was very wealthy indeed.  
    I became aware of a discomfort in my nether regions, and I swallowed hard. Where on earth was the bathroom? I had to use it, and I desperately wanted to wash my face.  
    A white porcelain pitcher and bowl on a side table caught my attention, and I hurried over to it. Next to the bowl was a small chunk of something that looked like soap, and a linen towel. I looked inside the pitcher. Yes! The water was warm. Mrs. Agnew was a saint, she really was.
    But toilet first. Where was it? I searched the room for a connecting door but could find none. I couldn’t very well wander the castle at night, knocking on doors. Well, perhaps I could, but I wasn’t going to. I couldn’t hold it till morning either. If nothing else, I supposed I could sneak out to the woods. I rolled my eyes. The sooner I found my way home, the better off I would be.
    I plopped down on the bed, contemplating the awful certainty that I was going to have to head for the woods, when my foot hit something cool and hard just underneath the frame. I bent over and looked under the bed, not without some fear.
    A fairly large porcelain bowl came into view, and I blinked. Oh, please no. Please tell me this was not a chamber pot! I retrieved the bowl and stared at it.  
    What could I do? Even if it wasn’t a chamber pot, it certainly beat heading out into the cold, rainy night to do my business.  
    I won’t describe the next few moments except to say that I should probably have taken the nightgown off before attempting to maneuver myself over the bowl. However, I relieved myself without mishap and pushed the bowl back under the bed.  
      I fairly leapt for the pitcher of water on the sideboard, poured some into the basin and washed my face and hands. The soap had a faint smell of lavender, quite pleasant really. I dried my face and hands, feeling much, much better. A hairbrush would have completed my toilette, and I moved over to the dressing table to search it.  
    Yes! Mrs. Agnew had come through again, for there on the table was a very fine silver comb. I combed my hair with the heavy thing, wondering again at Colin’s financial worth. But what did I know? Maybe all Scottish lairds had silver combs.
    I saw my blouse and jeans had been picked up off the floor and draped over some sort of blanket holder near the fire. Mrs. Agnew must have retrieved the stand from another room, because I hadn’t seen it earlier.  
    Face washed, hair brushed, I climbed into the bed, drifting down into the mattress. No foam mattress this, I felt myself enveloped in its softness as I pulled silk sheets and a velvet coverlet across my body. Expecting to lay awake for hours as I fretted about how to get back home, I surprised myself by falling instantly asleep.
    I awakened suddenly to a raucous sound, and I pushed myself upright. At first, I couldn’t orient myself. Where was I? What