Chapter 8
Helen went to the Savoy, booked a room, and paced the small space while she waited for a bathtub to be brought up to her. Cleaning herself with a bowl, water, soap, and a cloth just wasn’t gonna cut it. The room was small and not nearly as grand as she’d hoped it would be. And there was a chamber pot. She was now in a time she would be expected to crap in a bowl. It put things in perspective. Not that she was getting used to being in another time, but she supposed she had a certain level of acceptance. Hell, she could now go a few minutes without thinking about how she had left everything behind. But then something like this would happen—portable poop that would be chucked out the window—and she’d realize how alien this time period was. And how alone she was.
The tub was made of tin, and servant after servant came in carrying buckets of steaming hot water. Helen scrubbed her skin and washed her hair, the mud from her journey sloughing off and a sense of…something came over her. A peculiar variety of emotions from relief at having survived, joy at having the money, but there was more, and those emotions were the ones she couldn’t put a name to.
She could still see the look of fury and disgust on the Duke’s face as she blackmailed him. Helen didn’t like being a bad person. Even if it were for a good cause. She rubbed her skin harder, as if the guilt of blackmail was something she could wash off as well. Tears filled her eyes, and she covered her face with the washcloth, the heavy scent of flowered soap invading her nostrils. It wasn’t just the blackmail, and the dirt that left her.
It was as though she were scrubbing off the remains of her entire life.
If Mary were thinking of her right now, Mary was thinking that she was dead. Helen was someone who people thought of in the past tense. She’d say, “I miss Helen; that bitch knew how to drink a pint of beer.” Or “My friend Helen used to love to dance and watch sappy romantic movies.”
Helen stayed in the tub until the water went cold and her eyes drooped. She wasn’t just physically tired, but emotionally tired. She dried herself with a crappy piece of linen and fell naked into bed, snuggling deep under the covers, before falling into a deep sleep.