fact, you can help me strip him while we wait for the water."
"I can strip myself."
Helen glanced down sharply at her husband at those husky words. "Husband, you are awake."
He lifted his head slowly, revealing open eyes that were a little dazed. "Aye. More's the pity. I feel like hell. And I smell worse."
"Aye, you do," Helen agreed, then smiled apologetically when he grimaced at her. "What happened?
How did you end up in the moat?"
He lifted a hand to his forehead, frowning in concentration. "Someone knocked me in. Hit me over the head first."
"Again?" Helen cried in alarm. How many times had her husband suffered an injury to the head lately?
Was it three times? And the man still lived. He obviously had a skull as thick as the castle wall.
"Aye. Again. And it is all your fault," Hethe snapped, catching Helen's attention and drawing a gasp of outrage from her.
"Mine?"
"Aye. If I had not still been a little fuzzy-headed from your potions, I would have heard the man approach."
Helen gaped at him for the accusation, then her eyes narrowed in fury. "Well, then it is a good thing you are such a hard-headed bastard."
Aunt Nell gasped in horror, and William and Boswell both shifted uncomfortably as silence filled the room. In response, Hethe asked with deadly calm, "And just what is that suppose to mean?"
"Nothing." Helen said sweetly. "Nothing at all. Though I should like to point out that you went completely unharmed while you were sleeping. However, since you won't continue to rest and recover up here where it is safe, perhaps you should wear your helmet should you intend to wander about any more. It would appear you need it."
"You - " Hethe began furiously, but Aunt Nell saved Helen from his words by asking quickly, "Did you see who hit you?"
Hethe paused and glanced over at her. He started to shake his head, winced in pain, then said, "No,"
instead.
Her anger dissolving at seeing his pain, Helen released her pent-up breath on a sigh and reached out to caress his cheek. "Do you hurt anywhere besides your head?"
Hethe hesitated, then apparently decided to take the olive branch she offered. He reluctantly admitted,
"My chest and my throat."
"The chest and throat must be from swallowing moat water," she explained. Glancing at his damp, matted hair, she was disgusted to see something move in it. She wasn't sure, but it seemed better to bathe him before checking for any more head wounds.
"You mean I swallowed that filth?" Hethe asked with horror.
Helen nearly laughed at his expression, but managed to swallow it back. "I fear so." She glanced around as her maid came back into the room, leading a contingent of servants carting a bathtub and pails of water. "Ducky, could you get a servant to fetch up some ale?"
"Aye, my lady."
Aunt Nell stopped her, saying, "Nay. I shall do it. Helen may need your help with bathing Lord Hethe."
She was gone before anyone could protest. Not that such seemed likely.
Helen turned back to Hethe. "Perhaps we should get you out of those clothes and into the tub."
Boswell and William immediately moved forward, and Hethe scowled from one man to the other. "I said I can do it myself."
"Aye," William agreed soothingly. "We'll just stick around in case you're needing a strong arm to get you to the tub. Better one of us than you sully Lady Helen's clothes, too."
Hethe seemed to notice then that both men were as wet and filthy as himself. He turned an inquisitive look on William. "Did you pull me out?"
"Boswell got there first and did most of the work. I just helped."
"Oh." Hethe glanced to the man and nodded solemnly. "Thankyou, Boswell."
Helen's man shrugged uncomfortably, but managed a grim "Milord," when she nudged him.
"Shall we get you into the tub now?" Helen prompted. The servants had finished their business and filed out.
Grunting, Hethe pushed himself to his feet... and nearly tumbled onto his face. Boswell and William each grabbed an arm to steady him, then began to help him undress, despite his protests, which grew fainter as the moments passed. It was rather obvious that he was growing weaker by the moment, and Helen was relieved that the men ignored his assurances that he could manage alone.
A servant arrived with the requested ale just as they helped Hethe to the tub. The girl handed it over to Helen, informing her that her aunt had arranged for baths to be prepared also for Boswell and William, so