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Rowan heaved a sigh of relief as she saw the man’s arm let go his clothes; then, shut the bath room door tight and latch it. She could hear him humming loudly, an unrecognizable tune. And then came the sound of splashing indicating, she was sure, that he had got into the bath.
She grabbed up his clothes with the tips of her fingers and ran down the hall to where Meliot leaned on the now still broom. ‘Give me a moment,’ she said quietly, though she doubted she could be heard at this distance and through the closed door.
Feet a blur as she ran toward where the washtubs were, she dropped the clothes in the sudsy water, then ran to the attic where the abandoned clothes of former guests were kept. Rowan picked out a serviceable pair of breeches and a clean tunic and hurried back to the bath room. She knocked once on the door, saying she would just leave his clothes on the small table just outside it. Not waiting for an answer, she ran down the hall the Jack’s room.
‘Alright then!’ she said, a bit out of breath from her scurrying. Taking the broom from her friend, she went on. 'I’ll just busy myself down the hall a bit. And when I see him fetch in the clean clothes, I’ll start singing . . .’
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