Philipa snorted at her. "You shall. And mind me well, miss, you will play the part to perfection if you do not wish for your siblings to suffer unkind fates."
Anne felt her eyes widen. Philipa snickered as she noticed the horror on Anne's face.
"Now I have your attention. You will take Mary's place, or I shall see your two sisters wed before dark to the meanest men I can find! As for your brothers, I know a few prostitutes who need husbands. We need to think of their Christian souls. Marriage might be just what they need to make them repent their whoring ways."
"You are despicable." Anne refused to hold her tongue. Even God wouldn't condemn her for stating something so true.
"I am the lady of this house and my word is law."
Philipa waited, her eyes glittering with triumph. She pointed at the bathtub, her face set like stone.
"I am not a liar. I wouldn't know how to deceive a man."
Philipa waved her hand again. "There will be no need for lies. You are the earl's daughter. You are being sent to the Scot's bed. Simply keep your mouth shut and all will be well. When you find yourself with child, you will beg to come home to have your mother at your side when the birthing time comes. You see? Simple."
"Surely you do not believe this earl to be so slow witted as to not notice you have changed his wife for another."
Philipa waved her hand again. "The man is a Scot. I wouldn't expect a servant to understand but they are war-loving people. He'll likely plow you a few times, make sure you're breeding, and take off for more war among their clans. No man has any interest in a pregnant wife and Scots prefer their women uncivilized. He's got a mistress for sure, and your bed won't hold any interest to him once he knows his child is planted in your womb. By the time the babe is born and he comes to see his son, it will be more than a year. Changing places will be easy. The man will not even remember what color eyes you have. Besides, you and Mary look very similar. Mark my words, girl, you'd better set your mind to producing a son."
"I can't be a part of such a foul scheme. My father has bound Mary to this man."
"And I am giving him a daughter, a different daughter, yet still his child. As lady of this house, I can do that."
"You aren't given the power to lie about it. Dishonesty is a mortal sin."
Philipa frowned. "Make your choice, madam. Shuck your dress and bathe or prepare to watch your mother walking out of the gate while your siblings are bound to remain in the castle. The charge of theft should be enough to convince the guards to throw her into the road. With your father at court, whom do you think the captain will believe? The lady of the house, or you?"
Chapter Three
Evil
Anne stared at Philipa and knew that what was shining in the lady's eyes was pure evil. Not once in her life had she ever believed that any person might be so horrible. A glance over at Mary showed her another woman who placed her own comforts above the very life of the servants who brought them those comforts. There was no hint of mercy on the younger lady's face, either; only a slight fear that Anne wouldn't bend to the whim of her mother.
But to take her place in the wedding bed … Anne shivered, unable to grasp such an idea. To agree to such a bargain made her no better than a whore. A woman reduced to using her body to buy what she needed.
But there really was no choice to make. She would choose her love for her family above herself. Reaching for the button on the top of her doublet, she pushed it open.
"There. I am glad to see you behaving so reasonably." Philipa looked pleased. "Help her, Mary. We have to see this finished before any of the maids become wise."
Anne's doublet dropped away and Mary attacked the tie that closed the waist of her skirts. They dropped to her ankles, leaving her in her chemise and stays. Anne felt Mary's fingers on the ties that closed the corset, loosening them until her breasts hung free. Any other time, she would have savored the freedom from her stays, but Philipa's eyes dropped to her chest, inspecting her body. Philipa's lip curled in distaste as Mary grasped the hem of Anne's chemise and pulled it over her head. Philipa stared at her bared chest and grunted.
"With plump tits like those, you should breed quickly. I made a wise choice when I had you watched. You'd have a string of bastards like your mother if I hadn't."
"I am not promiscuous."
Philipa glared at her. "What you are is forgetful of your station."
Anne sat down on a small stood to begin removing her boots. She hid her fury as she looked at the boot lacings. It would be most unwise to continue to speak her mind. Her family would be left behind to suffer Philipa's temper.
But she wanted to voice every word she'd ever bitten back. The woman was horrible, an evil consort of demons. No one else could contrive such a plan or force it onto the shoulders of another.
"Hurry up." Mary dropped to her knees and began pulling on the other boot. "We haven't much time." Her eyes shimmered with glee as she removed the boot and yanked Anne's stocking down.
Anne was suddenly shy. She'd never stood nude in front of anyone. Mary got to her feet and went around back of her to pull her braid loose. For such a spoilt child she was better at the task than Anne might have guessed. Her half-sister picked up a brush and began working it through Anne's hair. It looked as though Mary had learned something at court while waiting on the Queen.
"Stand up. I want a look at you."
Anne rose, her hands covering as much of her body as possible. Philipa snapped her fingers at her.
"Stop cowering."
Anne bristled but let her hands fall to her sides. The lady swept her from head to toe, her lips pressing into a hard line.
"In with you, this Scot will never believe that his noble bride wasn't bathed before his arrival."
The water was still warm. It only made her angrier to sink into it and not be able to enjoy the moment. She always had to bathe in a chemise because the bathing tub used by the servants of Warwickshire was not in a private room. Besides, everyone needed help washing their hair or they tracked water across the floor when they went to fetch a bucket of rinse water. The sight of her own nipples was slightly distracting because she rarely looked at them.
The bar of soap landed in front of her, splashing water into her eyes. Her hand shot out, grabbing it out of reflex. Normally, no one simply threw such a costly item.
No one but Philipa, it would seem.
The soft scent of lavender teased her nose as Mary dumped a cup of water over her head. It was cold and tickled her nose. More followed until her hair was completely wet. But the fire was blazing, warming her bare skin. She had never had so fine a bath, never been allowed to wash with scented soap. The French soap glided over her skin. She suddenly understood why Philipa enjoyed her bath so much. If she were allowed such fine soap, she would linger in her bathing as well.
Mary rushed her through the bath, using hard motions of her hands to scrub Anne's hair. Within a quarter hour, Anne stood in front of the fire with the linen wrapped around her body. Despair tried to claim her but she resisted. It was not an easy task but panic would only aid Philipa.
"Surely this cannot work."
Philipa scoffed at her.
"What if the earl wishes to spend a few nights at Warwickshire before returning to his lands?"
"He's Scots. The man will want to return home with all haste. I hear their clans raid one another when they hear the lord is away. Yet another reason why I will not send my only child to that barbaric land." Philipa shook out a chemise. "No matter if he does decide to stay. I shall tell him Mary is ill. You will remain hidden until he is ready to depart."
"Wear these." Mary handed her stockings. Anne stared at them. The tiny rows of knitted finery were something she had dressed Philipa in but never dreamed to don herself. "You must be ready at all times."
A fine chemise followed, as did an entire dress that was Mary's. It was good wool for traveling but edged in trim that was only for vanity. A quilted petticoat and stays were fit to her body as well. Mary drew a brush through her hair until it was dry and then she braided it.
"There. Now, you will wear a veil when you meet this Scot so that none of the household staff become wise. You will remain in the upper alcove until I come for you. Make no mistake, my girl. Cross me and I will turn your mother out without a loaf of bread or a cloak."
Philipa waved her toward the back stairs. Anne went but didn't lower her head before she moved. Instead she stared straight at Philipa, refusing to give her deference. The lady's face turned purple with temper.
"Get you up those stairs, and best you ponder what further defiance will bring on your family. Go."