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Castle Leoch did boast a proper bathtub, but that was reserved for Colum’s use in the normal course. For the rest of us, we were largely restricted to what had been called, when I was growing up after the first World War, a “cat bath.” One cleaned oneself in in a bowl of hot water by removing clothes and scrubbing the skin revealed with a cloth, then re-donning the clothes before moving to the next portion of one’s anatomy to keep from freezing.
This was a remarkably thrifty way to bathe, and one did end up relatively clean if one maintained a regular schedule of this behaviour- many did not- but it was fairly inconvenient for the washing of one’s hair.
Castle Leoch did boast another bathing option, however, though it was not warm. The loch nearby was the first choice for most of the young men, after a hard day of work to make themselves decent for dinner.
The afternoon that Dougal told me that I would be leaving Leoch, I gathered up my bathing paraphernalia and went to the loch. I knew enough now of the bathing habits of men in this time and place to guess that I would not see another opportunity to wash my hair until I made it back home.
I dabbled my feet in the water first, and found that the loch was as cold as advertised. I was quite determined to wash my hair, however, so I stripped down and gritted my teeth to enter the cold water. I was fortunate that there was some fugitive sun that day, even penetrating the trees that were screening me from view. I laid out my shift in a shaft of sunlight so that it would be warm when I got out.
Once fully in the water, however, I found that my temperature equalized fairly quickly, and the water began to feel fresh across my skin, rather than cold, and I was able to relax.
I took a deep breath and sank below the surface to wet my hair. The cold water over my head seemed to wake every nerve in my body, as though I had spent the past few weeks asleep, and when I emerged from the water, everything seemed brighter, clearer, and more real than it had since I’d arrived.
One of the things that was suddenly clear was the young man standing near the tree where I had left my clothes.
“Jamie!” I cried in shock, and clutched my arm across my breasts. I did not think he was close enough to be able to see them through the water, but it was entirely instinctual.
“Mistress Beauchamp?” he said, sounding surprised. “What are you doing out here?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I asked, exasperated. “I’m bathing. What are you doing out here?”
“Looking for water nymphs,” he said, and I could hear the laughter in his voice, the clown. “I thought I’d finally found one. They’re beautiful girls clad only in the water of the loch, you ken?”
I would not let the lad fluster me. Fortunately, my skin was too cold to blush, and he was too far to see my face clearly.
“Seems I’ve only found a caeillech. You’d best be careful though, Sassenach, or a water horse might see you and take you away to be his bride.”
I let out a huff through my nose that he could hear from the bank and he laughed.
“Have a care in truth though, Mistress, for the bottom drops off quite sharp not to far out. Those that canna swim should stay close to the shore, aye?”
“Never fear, Mr. McTavish, for I’m a rather accomplished swimmer,” I said, not without a note of pride in my voice.
“Oh aye?” he asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes indeed. Learned when I was a girl. So you needn’t fear for me, Jamie. You go on back up to the castle, and leave me to my bathing, won’t you? I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Aye, in the morning then, Sassenach.”