It was about this time Mrs. Bensbourne herself flew into the room and exclaimed at the site,
"Oh, dear Ansgar in Heaven, Lord Callister, please! You were injured and are our guest- Oh!" She scrambled to his side as Davishire continued to rage in confusion, he pushing her away at first while she protested, "Oh, but the bath was to help give you more heat! We were not foul playing you at all, milord!"
"We?" he went on, finally yanking the offered towel from Mrs. Bensbourne's fingers before he recalled the voice he heard from earlier and his features softened, and a sensation of worry rippled up his spine. He stumbled towards the kitchen, clumsily holding the towel while leaving a path of wet foot prints in his wake.
He clung to the kitchen's door frame while panting and staring back at Jillian with wild eyes.
"MIss Illi!" And then he recalled his towel and promptly turned about, and held the towel all the more firmer towards his form. "And what of her?" he asked, eyes going to Mrs. Bensbourne with ferocity. His voice was growling from deep within his chest as she went on to assure him.
"Oh! She came to care for you! Claiming she knew you, milord."
Davishire stiffened, before looking over his shoulder at Illi.
"Is this true?"
"The young lady only wished to help!" But a protesting old woman was silenced by Davishire's seering gaze.