Bliss(6)
Author: Lynsay Sands

Hethe grunted an unintelligible response as he followed his fiancee and her aunt along the passageway, trailed by William and the king’s man.

"My Lord Templetun." Lady Helen smiled at the older man as she paused and opened a door. "This is your room, my lord."

Hethe peered curiously through the door as the older man moved eagerly forward. He peered around the large, well-appointed room, a small fire burning cozily in the fireplace and a steaming tub sitting before it. Then his gaze fell on the pretty young miss pouring water into the tub as Lady Helen announced, "Your maid is Ellie. Ask her, should you need anything, and she will see to it."

"Thankyou, my lady." Templetun beamed at all three women as he slipped into the room. "I’m sure I shall be most comfortable."

Lady Helen smiled back, then pulled the door closed and gestured for the other men to follow as she and her aunt continued sedately to the next room. "This is your room, Sir William."

She opened the door and smiled encouragingly at the pretty little maid standing patiently beside another steaming tub. This was another large room, another cozy fire, and Hethe felt himself relaxing, forgetting the unpalatable ale as his first started into the room. William waited patiently as Lady Helen introduced the maid and repeated the comment that the girl would see to any needs.

Pulling that door closed, she turned and smiled at Hethe. "Yours is the next room, my lord."

Hethe followed her eagerly, already anticipating a soothing bath and the soft hands of a sweet young girl to scrub his troubles away. He paused politely when she stopped by the next door. Hethe could almost feel the warm water rinsing away the dust coating his body. Then the door opened. The first thing Hethe saw was the maid. It was no sweet young girl waiting for him. His maid was as old as Methuselah. A crone. A hag. And a bent, nasty-looking old hag too, with a wart hanging off her nose like an apple dangling from a tree branch.

"Dear God," he breathed in dismay.

"This is Maggie. But of course you will remember her from Holden," Lady Helen said expectantly, and he was positive he heard a reprimand in her tone. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a clue why, and didn’t really recognize the woman. She looked vaguely familiar, but he could not place her at Holden. He supposed that with that wart of hers he should be able to, but he had spent little enough time there over the years. Since she seemed to be waiting for some response, however, he grunted a vague agreement and nodded to the witch.

"She is the head of the chambermaids here now," Lady Helen continued, and again he felt sure there was some reprimand for him in her words, though he had no idea why and had little time to worry over it as she moved on. "We are very grateful for her knowledge and experience. That experience is why she shall be seeing to your needs personally rather than one of the younger, less knowledgeable girls. We thought it suitable that she serve you, the most important of our guests."

Hethe could hardly fault his soon-to-be wife’s reasoning. Still, he wished he could as he thought of the pretty young women now attending William and Lord Templetun.

"Your room is a little smaller than Lord Templetun’s and William’s," Lady Helen went on cheerfully,

"but we felt that as it was only for one night, it would be best to put you here. After the wedding, of course, you will be moved to the master chamber. There seemed little purpose in giving one of the other men this room, then switching them about after the wedding."

Hethe tore his gaze away from the dangling-wart-faced old crone to see that the room was indeed small.

Nearly as small as a privy, he saw with dismay. There was barely enough room for the tiny bed it held and the tub both.

"If you require anything, just ask Maggie and she will see to it." Lady Helen’s words drew his gaze back to the crone, who offered him a snaggle-toothed smile. He closed his eyes briefly.

"Enjoy your bath, my lord," Lady Helen added with a good cheer that made the hair on the back of Hethe’s neck prickle. He turned abruptly to search her expression, but was in time only to see the door close on her and her smiling aunt. The smile did nothing to relieve his sudden anxiety. There had been something almost feral about it, he decided.

Pushing his worries aside, Hethe straightened his shoulders and turned back to face the crone, only to have those shoulders slump again when the crone winked at him.

"Dear God," he breathed miserably to himself.

"There now, your bath is all ready, my lord. Shall I undress you?"

Hethe gave a start, his eyes widening on the old maid as she advanced eagerly toward him. He could have sworn there was a mischievous look in her eyes. Throwing his hands up instinctively, he eyed her warty hands and took a step back.

"Nay, nay. I can do it myself," he said quickly, suddenly wishing he had waited for his squire to come in from overseeing the care of his horse before allowing Lady Helen to urge them above stairs. Then he would have had an excuse to send the woman off.

"A shy one, are ye?" The hag cackled, then busied herself gathering soap and a strip of linen he presumed was for him to dry himself with afterward. He wouldn’t want her help with that either, he thought, a shudder running through him at the idea of her hands on his skin. Forcing the thought away, Hethe reluctantly began to undress himself.

"Ye sure ye don’t need my help there, my lord?" the hag asked, tossing the linen over her shoulder and turning to survey his slow progress.

Shaking his head, Hethe at last resigned himself to disrobing, removing his sword belt and dirk. The hag stood watching him silently, her eyes lighting with interest as he removed his tunic. With that distracting him, it was rather amazing that he noticed that the room wasn’t as warm as it should have been.

Scowling, he glanced around the small, cramped quarters until his gaze came up on the window. It was uncovered, allowing a cool afternoon breeze in to fan over him. "There is no covering on that window!"

The wench raised her eyebrows and peered at him in surprise. "On a fine day such as this? Nay, my lord. Besides, it was sent down to have the dust beaten out of it. In your honor," she added, making him feel churlish for complaining.

"Well, then you should have built a fire," he grumbled. "I shall catch a chill getting out of the bath if you do not."

Her eyebrows rose again and she repeated, "On a fine day like this? Well, I thought a strapping figure of a man like yourself wouldn’t be needing such fuss. But, if it’s a fire you’re wantin’, I’ll build one as soon as I have you settled in your bath."

Mouth flattening in displeasure, Hethe quickly continued to undress. By the time he got to his breeches, her eyes were practically burning holes in his flesh.

Muttering under his breath, Hethe resisted the urge to cover himself like a timid virgin and pushed off his leggings. He left them puddled on the floor and strode quickly to the tub. Awareness that the old witch’s eyes were roving over him as he moved, and mostly over the area below his waist, made him pick up speed as he headed for the water. This was ridiculous, really. He had never been shy before. But he could almost feel her eyes burning into his groin – and the sensation was not pleasant. At least not from her. Now, if it had been one of the merry young maids that had been sent to Templetun and William, that might have been a different story. However, this one’s gaze just made him rush forward and nearly leap into the tub, slopping water everywhere in his eagerness to hide himself.

"Yow!" Hethe popped upward out of the tub with a roar. The water was scorching hot. Blistering. He would be lucky if his balls hadn’t been boiled right off. It was hard to tell at that point; every inch of skin that had been submerged in that moment before his nerve endings had reacted was now screaming in agony. Hethe stumbled in his eagerness to get out of the hot water, but he had only pulled one foot out of the tub when the old hag suddenly rushed forward with a pail of cold water. He supposed she was trying for the tub, but her aim was off. The icy liquid sprayed over his still-heated skin, leaving him gasping in shock as it ran down his body, half splashing into the tub, half onto the floor.

"Sorry, my lord. It seemed fine to me. It’s the way Her Ladyship likes it. Guess you’re a little more delicate." She set down the one pail, grabbed up another, and splashed it too over him as she spoke.

"We’ll have it right in a minute, though."

A third pail splashed over him. Hethe heaved a resigned sigh and merely reached down to cover his more important bits as she rushed away for more water. This is a test , he told himself soothingly. The good Lord is trying my patience as some sort of lesson . Hethe feared he was going to fail the test.

Putting up one hand defensively as the hag stooped to trade her empty pail for another full one, he roared, "Enough!"

"Cool enough now, is it?" she asked cheerfully, straightening and turning to peer at him.

"Aye." Hethe dropped his hand back to cover his lower regions when her gaze dropped there, then plopped down to sit in the water again. Aye, it was cool enough now. If anything, it was too cool. Tepid at best, he realized with disgust.

"Shall I wash your back for you, m’lord?" the hag asked solicitously.

Hethe’s gaze snapped to her as she advanced, soap in one warty hand. "Nay," he said quickly. "In fact, I am quite sure I’ll need no more help. You can go."

"Go?" Her eyes widened in surprise. "But who will help you out of the bath?"

"I can get out on my own," he assured her grimly. "Just go. Now."

Shrugging, the old woman sidled to the door, but her eyes never left his free hand once. Hethe supposed she feared he might hit her. He was rather proud that he hadn’t.

"If there be anything else you’re needing, m’lord."

"Out!" Hethe snapped. He would die of his needs ere calling on the old hag to do anything else for him.

Nodding, she bobbed a curtsy once she was safely beyond his reach and slid from the room.

Sighing, Hethe released the hold he had taken of his most private bits to prevent their further abuse, then peered around the room. It wasn’t just smaller than those rooms he had watched Templetun and William disappear into, it was meaner too. There were no tapestries on the walls, nothing to sit on but the bed and a half-broken chair, and, of course, no coverings on the windows or fire in the fireplace. The air was unpleasantly cool on his damp skin.

It was only for one night, he reminded himself soothingly. Tomorrow night he would share the master chamber with his new bride. Lady Foul-Breath. Groaning, he closed his eyes briefly, then sat up with a sigh and glanced about for the soap. The water was not getting any warmer. The sooner he cleaned himself up, the sooner he could get out. Unfortunately, the soap was nowhere to be seen.

Frowning, he started to stand to look about, but just then an image of the hag popped into his mind. She had been still holding the soap when he had ordered her out. He had a very clear image of that soap in her hand as she had exited the room. He also saw, quite clearly, the linen for drying hanging over her shoulder.

Cursing, Hethe sank back into the tub miserably. Pissy ale. A bath hot enough to boil off his balls, then freeze them. No covering on the window. No fire to dry by. A nasty old hag to serve him. And now, no soap or drying linen. And a soon-to-be wife with dragon breath. Oh, he would have to be sure to send his thanks to the king for this.

Straightening from her bent position outside Lord Holden’s door, Helen leaned against her aunt helplessly, doing her best to smother her giggles as the door opened before them. Eyes widening as she saw the two women the exiting Maggie immediately tugged the door closed behind her and urged them all down the hall.

"What were you doing?" Maggie hissed as soon as they were far enough away not to fear being overheard. "Had he seen you – "

"We could not just walk off and leave you alone," Helen explained, her voice bubbling with excited victory. "I was not certain of this part of the plan, and I feared for your safety when you volunteered to do it. But you were brilliant, " she praised. "And so swift, Maggie. I knew you still had some fire in you."

"Aye," Aunt Nell agreed with a chuckle. "And it was very clever of you to keep yourself out of hitting range."

Maggie wrinkled her nose. "Aye. But I don’t think it was necessary. He didn’t look moved to hit me.

Well, not really," she added at Helen’s doubtful look.

"Hmmm," Helen murmured, unconvinced. "Nevertheless, I think we should stick to our plan. It would probably be better if you were out of sight for a bit. A nice visit with your daughter in the village should do the trick. She is expecting you?"

"Aye. And she’s grateful for it. She’s far along with her baby now, you know, and finds working in that tavern of her husband’s terribly wearing. She is looking forward to my help, and I to the visit."

"Good, good." Helen patted her hand, then paused and peered at the cloth she held. "Is that – "

Maggie peered down at the linen in her hands and gave a slightly evil grin. "His Lordship’s toweling linen. I forgot I had it when he ordered me out," she said blithely. Her lips puckered into an all-out smile at the twinkle in her mistress’s eyes.

"You are a wonder, Maggie," Helen marveled, then turned the servant toward the stairs once more. "Off you go now. Have a nice time."

"Aye, m’lady." Maggie started off toward the stairs only to pause and peer back suspiciously at the pair of noblewomen. "You’ll not be going back to spy on him, will you? I don’t think it would be good for the two of you to be caught lollygagging about outside his room. He isn’t in the best of moods at the moment."

"Nay," Aunt Nell agreed with a disappointed sigh. She began to urge Helen after Tiernay’s mistress of chambermaids. "It would be best if we steer clear of the man for a bit. We wouldn’t want to give him any reason to suspect something is amiss."

"Aye." Helen acquiesced reluctantly and allowed herself to be dragged away. There was nothing she wanted to do more than to go kneel outside the Hammer’s door and watch the rest of their plan unfold.