Tangled In Time

Bare Confessions

The bath was bliss, steaming hot with frothy bubbles, just the way I liked it. The hot water seemed to wash away the day's stress, easing the tension out of my body. I found myself reluctant to get out. It had been ages since I'd enjoyed a nice relaxing bath, but my tranquillity lasted only twenty minutes before Sophie gently knocked on the door. She had left a long, plush robe hanging on the back of the door, and I eagerly wrapped it around myself. My hair, now wet and curly, had taken on a life of its own during my bath. I grabbed a nearby towel and quickly bundled it up, wondering how I would ever manage to tame it before the party tonight.

When I came out of the bedroom, all the bags and boxes from mine and Blake's shopping trip were now stacked by the door, their contents having been put away in the drawers. The evening gown was hung up on the back of the door.

"Thank you," I said to Sophie, who stood by the door with her hands behind her back.

"Would you be able to help me get ready? I'm not sure what to do with my hair. It's a mess from travelling, and I'm not sure what's in fashion here," I said, finishing quickly.

"Do ya know how ya'd like to wear it?"

I laughed and then unwrapped the towel, letting my wild curls fall around my face. "I have no idea."

The real Sophie, less timid and more confident, emerged with a hasty hand-to-mouth gesture to conceal a giggle.

As we both laughed at the wildness of my hair, there was a light knock at the door. Sophie crossed the room to answer it, revealing another maid holding a tray of steaming soup.

"Miss Felicity, Mr. Blake asked me to bring this soup for you," the maid said with a warm smile, setting the tray down on a nearby table. The aroma of the soup filled the room, comforting and inviting.

"Oh, thank you," I replied.

The maid nodded before quietly excusing herself, leaving me and Sophie alone with the tray of soup. I hadn't even realised I was hungry until I smelt the soup. The swirl of steam rising from the bowl teased my senses, the rich aroma of herbs and roasted vegetables awakening my appetite. I took a seat at the table, lifting the spoon to take a tentative sip. The warmth spread through me with the first mouthful. The soup was smooth and hearty, perfectly seasoned with just a hint of thyme, filling my empty stomach with a comfort I hadn't realised I needed. The gentle clink of the spoon against the ceramic bowl was the only sound in the room as I savoured each bite.

As I towel-dried my hair, Sophie took my empty bowl downstairs and returned with a borrowed hot comb, generously lent by one of the other maids who shared my hair texture. She spent almost an hour taming my unruly hair, skilfully transforming it into smooth waves reminiscent of a 1940s Hollywood star, securing one side in place with hairpins.

"Wow, thank you," I breathed while looking at myself in the tri-fold mirror.

Sophie, having worked wonders with my hair, politely asked, "Would ya like me to leave now, or d'ya want help wi' makeup an' gettin' into yer dress?" She seemed to enjoy helping me get ready.

I couldn't help but express how well she had done, and I could sense she needed a boost given how timid and unsure of herself she seemed. "Do you usually assist with this sort of thing? You're good at it."

"No, Ma'am," she replied with a shy smile. "I usually help wi' cleanin'."

"How come you're not in school?" I asked.

"Well, I'm 22, Miss," Sophie said, leaving me taken aback.

"Really?" I exclaimed, genuinely shocked. She had a youthful appearance, and I couldn't help but attribute it to the delicate freckles scattered across her fair complexion. "You're lying," I blurted out, taken aback. Sophie flinched, thinking I was calling her a liar.