Read Online Edwina by Patricia Strefling - Free Book Online Page A

a slight
emergency trip to Scotland changes your whole way of thinking. And
after only two days! Perhaps she was
overly tired.
    She lifted herself out of the tub and to her
surprise found a beautiful, satiny white dressing gown lying across
her pillows. Had Bertie left it for her? Perhaps there was a new
guest and she needed to leave the room tonight.
    Still in her cherry pink towel, she picked up
the heavy garment, and it slid across her fingers like silk.
Perhaps it was silk. She had no clue. But it felt wonderful as she
rubbed it across her cheek. The scent... what was it? Lavender? She
fanned the fabric underneath her nose and sniffed. “Ah, it is
Lavender, my favorite.” She whispered.
    A tap followed by Bertie’s now familiar
presence interrupted her thoughts. “Ye like it?”
    “Aye,” she answered and saw Bertie’s
smile.
    “Lass, ye are not Scottish are ye?”
    “Oh no, Bertie. Irish on both sides.”
    “Ach.” Bertie said no more.
    “I see how it is,” she teased and let the
towel slide off while Bertie slipped the gown over her head. “It is
so beautiful.” Her hand ran along the smooth fabric.
    “Silk, lassie. Pure silk.” Bertie’s eyes
skimmed her. “Ya know ye’d be a right pretty lass if ye’d... well,
walk the hills a bit.”
    “Ah, so you think I’m fat?”
    “Fat? Such a nasty word, lass. If I thought
so, I wouldna say it.”
    “Well, you’ve got eyes. I’m not exactly a
willow stick.”
    Bertie made great work of punching the
pillows into shape.
    “What does it matter? I’m just a librarian in
a small town back home. I doubt I’ll marry. . . Edwina didn’t
exactly like where this was going.
    “Oh puff and stuff. Ye’re a young gal. A good
man would like a woman with some flesh on ’er. Just ask my
William.”
    “ You have a husband?”
Edwina knew her shock was showing.
    “Ye think me incapable?” Bertie’s familiar
hands-on- hips stance was unrepentant.
    “It’s not that, Bertie. Would you please stop
putting words in my mouth?” She sat on the side of the bed and
nearly slid off.
    “See lass, a smart-tongued one ye are. Nearly
fell to yer death with that slippery silk.”
    Suddenly the absurdity of their conversation
struck Edwina and she began to laugh. She laughed until her sides
hurt. The usually sharp-tongued Bertie had joined in and neither
could stop themselves.
    “I can see me tellin’ Laird Dunnegin that ye
slipped off the bed and died, right at my feet, cause of the
nightdress. And ye being an American . . .”
    “Now Bertie, that’s not nice.” They were off
again. For several minutes neither could gain their composure.
    “Bertie, stop. Stop!” Edwina held her sides
as she rolled on the bed.
    “Lass, ye are the grandest child in a woman’s
body I ’ave ever witnessed.”
    “Well, you’re not so bad yourself, Bertie...
when you lighten up a little.”
    Finally they settled down, and Edwina could
ask the question she longed to say.
    “Bertie, tell me about your William.” She
settled herself under the covers and allowed Bertie to tuck her
in.
    “Now lass, what ye be wantin’ to know aboot
me old man? He died and left me penniless, ye know it.”
    “He did? Did you love him, Bertie?”
    “Aye. Till I wanted to die for not having him
with me.”
    “What did it feel like—to love someone that
much, I mean.”
    “ Lass, there are no words.
Even Shakespeare, bless his English soul, was not able to pin it
down about the way a man loves a woman, even though he
tried.”
    Edwina gazed into the woman’s sad eyes. “And
as a woman also loves her man.”
    “Ah... I see. Did you have children?”
    “One lad, but he died afore he was three. And
no more came after that. It was our lot in life, I suspect. We must
have sinned too much, for the good Lord gave us no more babes.”
    “Oh Bertie, God doesn’t do things like
that.”
    “Puff and stuff.” She waved off Edwina’s
comments.
    “Well, He doesn’t.”
    “And ye—the little lass from