Stephen turned to the men in the doorway. “Find Alys and bring her here. She will know what to do.”
Several of the men rushed from the room.
Stephen was used to his older brother taking charge, but it was obvious William would be of no help. He’d seen his mother and Catherine deal with household illness and injury countless times. Biting his lip, he tried to recall what they did.
“Tell the servants to bring warm water and strips of clean cloth,” he told the other men. “I’m not sure which we’ll need, so have them bring both spirits and hot broth.”
The men rushed out almost before he had the words out.
Relief washed over him when Alys burst into the room, raining curses on Edmund.
“That devil’s spawn locked us all in the kitchen!”
She took command the moment she entered. Ignoring the body on the floor, she hurried to where William still held Catherine on the bed. She ran quick hands over Catherine.
“No wound!” she announced.
She left them to give direction to the servants setting up the washing tub in the solar. In no time, Stephen heard her shooing the servants, “Out with you now, out, out.”
As she bustled back into the bedchamber, she called over her shoulder, “And shut that door behind you!”
“Lord FitzAlan, I need you to carry her to the solar,” she said in her no-nonsense voice. “I must wash the blood off and get a better look at her.”
William cradled Catherine in his arms, rocking her as though he had not heard.
Alys got up on the step to the bed and put her face in front of his. “M’lord, this is not your wife’s blood. ’Tis only the blood of that bastard friend of yours.”
When he only blinked at her, she raised her voice. “M’lord, you must get off your backside and help me. Now!”
Stephen could almost see the words penetrating William’s skull as he looked from Alys to Stephen and back again. When William rose with Catherine from the bed, Stephen felt some of the tension go out of his shoulders.
The saints be praised, William was back with them.
In the solar, William sat on a bench next to the tub with Catherine on his lap. At Alys’s direction, Stephen picked up the cup of broth from the table and knelt in front of Catherine. Holding the cup under her nose, he watched her draw in a deep breath of the steam. He wanted to shout for joy when she opened her eyes a crack and took a small sip.
The broth seemed to revive her, for she took another sip and another. He darted a look at Alys, who smiled and nodded.
Catherine lifted her hand to touch his wrist and whispered, “Thank you.”
Stephen took her hand and kissed it, trying not to cry.
“Jamie?” Catherine asked.
“He is safe,” Stephen said. “He and Jacob hid in the stable.”
“Out with you now, Stephen,” Alys said. When he turned, prepared to argue, she said, “We must get her in the bath.”
Stephen leapt to his feet so quickly he nearly knocked over the bowl of broth. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”
As soon as Stephen was gone, Alys directed William to put Catherine’s feet into the tub. “ ’Tis important we keep her warm.”
She began a thorough inspection then, washing off blood as she worked her way up Catherine’s legs. She nodded and murmured, “Good, good,” as she went.
“The blood is not mine,” Catherine said in a voice so low William had to strain to hear it. “I do not think I am injured.”
He pressed his cheek against hers and closed his eyes.Praise God. Praise God.
“Shhh, do not talk yet, dear,” Alys crooned. “Now let us get this dirty gown off you and get you in this nice hot bath. That, and another cup of broth, and you’ll feel much better.”