Not quite

At the top of the stairs was a small landing and two doors one on each side. "There is a garderobe through there, Miss Evelyn." The big breasted matron pointed at the smaller of the two doors, "should you need it." Judging by the privy's location Christine guessed the waste dropped into the stables below where it would join the horse dung and be cleared away by muckrakers when they made their rounds. No doubt the mistress of the house was very proud of the accommodation, but after her experience fleeing from the castle, the last thing Christine wanted was to be anywhere near one of those dank holes ever again.

Luckily the Verderer's goodwife was already opening the larger door and did not see the way her nose crinkled. On the other end of the landing was a ladder leading up to the third story of the townhouse, and as she was dragged into the master bedroom Christine had just long enough to wonder if that is where the Verderer's two boys had their beds. Through the arched doorframe Christine saw a bedroom that was both large and warm. The window faced the South, and although not high enough to see over the roofs of the houses to the river below, it did offer a wonderful view of the afternoon sun settling towards the horizon.

"Let's get you out of these stinking layers."

Before Christine could even consider objecting, she realized that there was no other way. This dress, like nearly all her garments, was designed to be fastened and unfastened by a maidservant. There was no way she could reach behind her back far enough to unlace the dress, so without a murmur of protest she turned her back to the goodwife and let her start working at the knots of her lacing.

"Goodness, child, it looks like you've been swimming in this dress."

"Yes, mum," Christine tried to hold still as the lacing started to loosen, "my brother and I had to cross a pretty nasty river to get to the King's woods."

"Poor things, it is a wonder you made it safely to Oldchester."

"We would not have if it weren't for your husband." Christine sniffed as the memory of the encounter with the outlaws came rushing back. There was something about this kindly woman that made it possible to talk about the horrific ****. By the time the matron had lifted her dress up over her slender shoulders, and loosened the ties on her undergarments, Christine had related how the Verderer had rescued her. It was not the most coherent of stories through the mixture of tears and relief, but all the while the goodwife 'clucked' in encouragement and held her when the emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

"The good Lord works in marvelous ways, Evelyn." She told her as she knelt at her feet working at her muddy boots, "We will light a candle to give thanks for your safety this next mass." Between the horror of the attack and the kindness of these strangers Christine felt she had been rolled on a topsy-turvy ride at the fair. As the Verderer's wife fussed with the bath, Christine was able to untie the silk sash with her father's ring and fold it neatly on the table. Just in time too, because she didn't even notice the servant's arrival until her clothes were whisked away and she was standing as bare as the day she was born before a large tub ankle deep with water.

"Get in girl, the water won't get any warmer, and for all the world, I can't think of a soul in this city that is more in need of a good soaking than you." This was all the encouragement Christine needed and she knelt in the tub and started scrubbing the mud off her arms. "Sit still, child." A stream of hot water was poured over her head, running in rivulets over her shoulders and down between her breasts to splash onto her thighs.

"Although, you are in truth no child at all, are you Evelyn." The goodwife lifted her chin and looked at her full breasts and tuft of hair between her legs appraisingly. "Surely most girls are wed by your age."

"Yes Mam," Christine hated lying to these kind people, but it was for their safety as much as hers. "With the plague and my father's pilgrimage, any match that might have been made was put off."

"Did you have your eye on a young man though?" The good wife laughed as she poured another pitcher of warm water over her head. "I imagine my Jerod, will be pining at your feet once he sees what's been hiding under all that mud." Christine's blush brought a joyful laugh from the Verderer's wife, but it was not the woman's son that made her cheeks brighten." God forgive me. The shame of knowing that she wanted this honest woman's husband was far worse than being naked, and the more the woman spoke the worse it got. "I don't doubt for an instant that those men would have kept you in a most shameful way. Even covered in filth, you cut a fine figure, it is probably just as well that my husband didn't see you like this, or he'd have had a hard time retraining himself."

"The Verderer could never treat a young woman so poorly." Christine was quick to jump to the man's defense, but that only made the woman laugh harder.

"Don't take me wrong, Evelyn." Her fingers were slowly lathering a rose-scented soap into Christine's hair. "My husband is the finest man I know, but even a saint can be tempted by the flesh, and as goodly as he is, my Werner is no saint."

Luckily, Christine was able to use the soap to wash her face instead of speaking. She couldn't imagine hearing any woman speak so openly about the philandering of her husband. It was far too confusing to even think about. Christine resolved to be on her best behavior until she and Erik could meet with Master Merthier on the marrow. The last thing she wanted was to cause a rift between the Verderer and his jolly wife.

With her bath nearly over, Christine stood modestly with her hands covering her private parts as she was rinsed off with three quick pours of the pitcher.

"There, now." The woman smiled "you look as pretty and pure as the Blessed Mary herself." Once again Christine found herself at a loss for words, she couldn't imagine her mother or even one of her earthy servants saying something so profane, and yet coming as it did the complement made her tingle all over. "Now then," The Verderer's wife moved to a great chest that sat at the foot of the bed. "Your clothes won't be dry 'til tomorrow, but let's see what I have that could possibly be small enough to fit your dainty little frame for the night."