Bliss(29)
Author: Lynsay Sands

"Aye, milord. I am sorry, milord," the boy gasped, hardly able to breathe. "I didn’t mean to hit that horse, milord. But my aim ain’t so good."

Helen peered at the child and felt her heart squeeze tight. He was pale and shaking, his voice trembling as he spoke. She had a vague recollection of him standing among the circle of adults who had surrounded Hethe when she had reached him. She remembered his pale, shaken face from then, too. He surely hadn’t caused all this trouble on purpose.

"Let him go, William," Hethe said after a long moment. Helen felt herself relax.

"But – "

"Let him go. I imagine he has learned his lesson. He will not be throwing any more rocks. Ever. Will you, lad?" Hethe asked heavily.

The boy’s eyes widened at the threatening tone, and he shook his head quickly.

"See?" Hethe smiled slightly. "Let him go."

William hesitated, scowling at the boy, but then released him. Being a smart lad, the child promptly scrambled out the door and fled. Hethe’s first watched him go with discontent. "You were too easy on him, Hethe. You always are. We might have lost you… and all because of one boy’s stupidity."

"We didn’t," Hethe pointed out gently.

"Nay." William’s shoulders slowly relaxed.

"I planned to go search for Stephen. I guess I will not be able to do that, now. Will you tend to it?"

"Aye. Of course."

"Good. If you find him, bring him to me. If not…"

"I shall let you know, either way," William assured him and left the room.

The moment he was out the door, Helen turned a grateful smile on her husband and squeezed the hand still holding hers. "Thankyou, my lord."

He turned to her, obviously surprised to see the relief and pleasure on her face. "For what?"

"For not punishing that boy."

"I can hardly punish a boy for bad aim. He was just playing." His eyes narrowed. "Did you truly believe I could be so vile? Did you still believe that I was the one to order those punishments on my people?"

"Nay," Helen protested, then realized it was too quickly. She sighed as her face flushed with guilt. "At least… I was not sure."

He seemed to struggle internally for a moment, then asked, "Are you sure now?"

Helen considered seriously, then nodded her head. "Aye."

"Then you are content to stay married to me?"

Back to this?she thought. Helen paused to ponder her feelings. Married to Hethe, properly and forever – or at least until death parted them… She tried to imagine the future, but all her mind could do was draw up images of their relationship so far. His horrified face each time she had shoved a baby into his arms that day of the picnic. Aye, he had looked petrified and completely at a loss as to what to do with each child, but he had not shoved them back, or dropped them in irritation. And the day of the boatride. Water was an old childhood fear, but he had summoned the courage to face it – if only so that he would not show weakness before her. And then there were his kisses. Her body began to hum just at the memory of his caress.

"Helen?"

She glanced up with a start. It was the first time she could recall that he had used her name without including "Lady" before it. She liked it. And she liked the fire in his eyes as well. It sent shivers down her back.

"Do you wish the marriage to stand?"

"Aye," Helen breathed, knowing that her agreement now was more binding than the actual marriage vow had been. She just hoped she wasn’t making a mistake.

Chapter Sixteen

Helen was settled in a chair before the fire in the great hall, mending a small tear in the gown she had worn for the journey to Holden. It was an old gown, faded and a bit tattered. The rend might even have been in it when she had first donned it, but smelling as she had at the time, she hadn’t wished to risk ruining any of her newer gowns with the scent. Now, it was the only extra gown she had. Ducky had thrown only one dress in the bag she had brought below – as Templetun had ordered, Helen thought with irritation, but wasn’t really very angry about it. She supposed the king’s man had not thought she would be away from Tiernay long. No doubt he had expected Hethe to return to his warmongering and her to be returned home immediately. Such was not the case, however. She was Lady Holden now. That thought brought her husband to mind, and Helen glanced toward the stairs to the upper level. Hethe had fallen asleep not long after she had agreed to let the marriage stand. It was a deep sleep and he snored and snuffled in it, pausing to mutter sleepily every once in a while. He was really rather adorable, Helen had decided as she peered on his sweetly innocent face in repose. But she had tired of that sport after a while and had come below to do her mending and ponder her changed circumstances. She was still there, her mind racing, when the great hall doors opened and William walked wearily in.

Her husband’s first moved toward the stairs to the upper floor, but paused when she called out to him.

He turned and moved in her direction.

"No luck?" she asked curiously when he stood before her.

"Nay. Is he awake?"

Helen shook her head. "Mary said that he should sleep for a little while yet."

William nodded, then glanced at the chair opposite her. After a hesitation, he moved to sink into it with a sigh.

"It must be upsetting for you."

"What?"

"That Stephen has behaved so. I know Hethe is unhappy."

"Aye." William nodded and glanced toward the fire. Helen had asked one of the servants to build it up to fight off the chill in the air. The coming storm she had sensed this morning hadn’t yet broken, but the air was heavy and damp. "We are all very close. Well, we used to be. I guess Stephen has changed these last five years, what with being left behind all the time.

" ‘Tis odd…"

"Hmm?" William glanced pointedly at her when she hesitated.

Shrugging, slightly embarrassed, she hesitated, then said, "The day we arrived here, I mistook Stephen for Hethe when he first stepped out of the keep. Today I did the same with you when I saw you cross the bailey. True, it was from the bedchamber window, but you all have the same build. And, while Stephen does not, you even have Hethe’s coloring. The three of you could almost be related."

"That’s because we are."

Helen glanced up sharply, catching the alarmed look that crossed the knight’s face. He hadn’t meant to say that.

"I mean – "

"Nay," Helen interrupted, knowing he was going to try to equivocate. "Tell me."

William hesitated, then sighed. "We are half-brothers. We all have the same father, just different mothers. Stephen’s mother was the village lightskirt; mine was the blacksmith’s daughter."

"I see," Helen murmured. "And the three of you were raised here in the castle together?" It was a logical conclusion, she thought. After all, she knew that the three of them had studied chivalry here together.

"Oh, nay." He gave a slight laugh at the idea. "Though Stephen and I were brought into the classroom, then onto the training field, we both continued to live in the village. Our father only paraded us around to try to shame Hethe into being a better student. He did poorly at his lessons."

"Aye. He told me so," Helen admitted, then shook her head. "I never would have guessed that. He is intelligent and speaks well."

"Oh, aye. He is intelligent," William assured her quickly. "He always did well in languages and such, so long as it was done orally, but he had difficulty with actually writing. He formed his letters backwards sometimes and – " William shook his head, seemingly at a loss to explain. "One of his teachers claimed he had come across it before, that the best thing to do was to teach and test Hethe orally and forget about the written word. But our father simply tossed the man out on his ear." He grimaced. "To his way of thinking, Hethe just needed more beatings – to inspire him not to be so lazy."

Helen had heard as much from Hethe, and it had disturbed her. She liked it even less now. She didn’t like to think of her husband as a child being abused. She decided a change of topic was in order. "It must have been hard on you and Stephen. Living in the village and yet being forced to come up to the castle for lessons."

"Aye, sometimes," William admitted. "But Hethe always made us feel welcome. He was glad for the company, though our teachers never let us forget where we belonged. And the children taunted Stephen horribly about his mother – about being a bastard. About putting on airs and taking lessons in the castle."

Helen frowned at the thought. Children could be so cruel.

"You maybe shouldn’t let His Lordship know I told you this," William said suddenly, looking uncomfortable. "He might be angry."

About to speak, Helen caught a glimpse of the man in question making his way down the stairs. Eyes widening with alarm, she quickly stood. "Hethe!"

Head jerking around, William caught sight of his lord limping down toward them. William was out of his chair in a flash and hurrying after his master’s wife as she rushed toward the staircase.

"What are you doing? You could fall and break your neck!" Helen cried, rushing up the stairs. She saw that he wasn’t so much limping down as hopping on his uninjured foot.

"I am fine," her husband grumbled as William caught up and gently urged Helen out of the way. Despite his protest, the knight then drew Hethe’s arm over his shoulder and helped him down the rest of the stairs. Helen followed, her hands caught anxiously in the folds of her skirt.

"Besides, I was bored up there by myself," Hethe went on as William helped him cross the floor to the chairs by the fireplace.

"You are supposed to be resting your leg," Helen reminded him grimly.

"And I am. I have not put any weight on it. I hopped to the stairs."

"And halfway down them. You might have hurt yourself."

Hethe rolled his eyes and glanced at his first. "See what you are missing by not being married, William?

We really have to find you a wife."

William merely chuckled as he settled his friend in the chair he himself had been occupying only a moment before. Helen promptly moved to seize the chest beside the chair in which she had been seated, and began to drag it around in front of Hethe, but William was there to finish the task for her.

"What is that for?" Hethe asked in surprise.

"To put your foot on. You should be keeping it elevated."

Hethe grumbled, but he allowed her to lift his injured appendage onto the chest. His gaze slid to William.

"Did you find Stephen?"

"Nay," his first admitted, shaking his head in apology. "I looked everywhere I could think. I asked around the village, I even sent men out in various directions to question farmers, but no one has seen him.

It is as if he rode out of the bailey and disappeared."

Hethe sighed, looking weary. "That does not bode well."

"Nay," William agreed reluctantly. "He should not be gone from the keep for so long."

"He could be injured, or…"

Hethe’s voice trailed away unhappily, but Helen saw him glance up sharply when William added, "Or he fears you have discovered what he was up to."

"How would he know that?" Hethe asked.

"Well, Stephen was never stupid. Besides, there is Lady Helen here."

"Me?" Helen asked, eyes wide. "What about me?"

"Well, he must know you two would eventually talk, that things would come out."

"Aye," Hethe said thoughtfully.

Helen picked up the gown she had been mending and reclaimed her seat. She saw her husband’s eyes fall on what she was doing, recognizing the fabric as that of the frayed, ugly dress she had worn at Tiernay on her last day as its sole master.

"Why are you bothering to mend that gown?" he asked irritably as she began to stitch. "Surely you have others?"

"Aye," she agreed calmly, knowing his testiness was merely due to concern about Stephen. "At Tiernay."

"At Tiernay? Do you mean to say that the dress you are wearing and that one are the only clothes you have here?" he asked with dismay.

Helen gave him a look. "Lord Templeton was in a bit of a hurry. He told Ducky to put one gown in a bag and bring it below, then he rushed me out."

"Damned idiot man," Hethe muttered, shifting impatiently in his chair. "Well, we shall have to rectify that.

We shall make a quick journey to Tiernay. It is probably for the best, anyway. Your aunt is most likely worried about you. I am sure she will be relieved to see you alive and well. No doubt she fears I have killed you by now," he added grumpily.

"No doubt," Helen murmured with amusement. "She is most likely preparing for the funeral as we speak."

His eyes shot to hers, his mouth opening for a retort. Then he caught the laughter dancing in her eyes and he slowly relaxed, a smile curving his lips. "Aye. We can attend it, perhaps. See how well done it is, then give her notes for future reference."

Helen laughed softly and bent her head to her sewing. Hethe was silent for a moment. She could feel him watching her; then he addressed William. "We will leave on the morrow. Aftermidday."

Helen glanced up in time to see the knight nod. "I will see to the arrangements. How many men do you wish to bring?"

Hethe pondered briefly, then shrugged. "Ten and yourself should do well enough. It is not a long journey."

Nodding, William started to move away, but before he could, Hethe added, "SendJohnson in. I will be leaving him as chatelain. I must instruct him on how I want him to behave with the people here. And on how to deal with Stephen if he returns while we are gone."

William acknowledged the order with a wave, then continued out the keep doors.

"Why not William?" Helen asked. When Hethe peered at her blankly, Helen explained. "Why are you not leaving William as your chatelain?"