He bolted from his seat. “What’s taking so long?” He paced, agitated and annoyed by the delay. He wanted her and he would have her, whatever the cost.
Someone tapped at the door. “Enter!” Joram stood on the threshold. “Come in and close the door behind you.” David waited, hands on his hips. “What did you find out?”
“The woman’s name is Bathsheba.”
“Bathsheba?” Why did that name sound so familiar? “Bathsheba . . .”
“She is Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam and the wife of Uriah the Hittite.”
Oh no! David felt his stomach drop. He remembered a skinny little girl who used to sit on Ahithophel’s knee and stare at him across the fire. No! It couldn’t be! Little Bath- sheba, who, as a child, had worshiped him and followed him to the stream at En-gedi. “I want to talk with you.” Her heart had been in her eyes. Bathsheba, married to one of his best and most reliable friends, daughter of a man he trusted and who trusted him, granddaughter of Ahithophel, Israel’s most able military adviser. Could anything be worse? He remembered looking into her eyes on her wedding day and feeling as though someone had punched him in the stomach. He’d made sure from that day on never to look at her again!
He expelled a hoarse laugh. Turning, he gripped the back of his neck. The old weariness and depression rose up once again. “You may go, Joram.”
“Is there anything you wish for, my lord the king?”
David clenched his teeth. “Nothing I can have.”
“Nothing is out of your reach, Sire. You are the king. Whatever you want is yours.”
David lowered his hand and raised his head. He was the king. Furthermore, his army was miles away at Rabbah. Uriah, Eliam, and Ahithophel had been gone for months and would not return for many more to come. His heart began to pound. What if he did summon Bathsheba to his private chambers? What if they did find pleasure in one another’s arms? What harm could one night do? Who would ever know?
His desire for Bathsheba burned hotter.
“What is your wish, Sire?”
“Bring her to me.” He felt a pang of guilt as he spoke his lust aloud, but he quickly squelched it with thoughts of the night ahead. Still, he must be prudent. “Wait until dark before you go for her, and take another soldier you know can keep a secret.”
“And if the woman resists?”
“She won’t.” Bathsheba had loved him for years. She’d followed him around the camps at Adullam and En-gedi. He’d thought she was a pesky little fly then, but now . . .
“But if she does . . . ?”
She was a common woman and he was a king. “My order stands.” Joram bowed and left. David knew Bathsheba would come to him. She had been extending him an invitation when she had so boldly met his eyes during her bath. If she regretted her impulse, he would take pleasure in swaying her.
It would be hours yet before Bathsheba was brought to his bedchamber. Time enough to bathe and anoint himself with scented oils. Time enough to order a small feast prepared. Time enough to burn incense to tease her senses. Time enough to think about the pleasures of the night ahead.
Time enough for sin to conquer him.
Bathsheba spent the rest of the afternoon in her chamber, weeping and wondering how she would ever have the courage to show her face before the king again. She dressed in a loose embroidered robe that hid every curve of her body. She brushed her hair until her scalp hurt. Then, holding the brush against her chest, she rocked and sobbed. Time hadn’t dissolved her love for David. This afternoon when she realized he was the one on the roof looking down at her, all the old feelings had risen up and swept over her again.
Someone tapped at her door. “My lady?” came the muffled voice of her maid.
“Go away!”
“There’s a soldier at the door, my lady!” The girl’s voice was shaking with alarm. “He said you must come!”
A soldier? Bathsheba rose quickly. She could think of only one reason a soldier would come to her door. Uriah was wounded or dead! Uttering a sob, Bathsheba threw open her door, brushed past her maid, and hurried through the house, her handmaiden on her heels.
The soldier stood just inside her door, but he wasn’t dusty from travel. And he wore a palace guard’s uniform. Startled, Bathsheba stopped. “Why are you here?”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “The king has summoned you, Lady Bathsheba.”
“Summoned me?” Confused, she stared back at him. “The king?”
“Yes. The king.” He stepped back and extended his hand toward the open front door. Another soldier was standing outside looking in at her. Bathsheba began to shake. She was a little girl again, crouching behind a boulder as David reprimanded her. Her cheeks caught fire.
“My lady.” The handmaiden moaned. “Oh, my lady.”
Bathsheba turned to her quickly and grasped her hands. “Hush, now. The king won’t harm me, Hatshepsut. He’s known my father and grandfather for many years.” Could that be the reason he was summoning her? “Perhaps he has news of them. Go quickly and bring me my shawl.” The girl ran to do her bidding while Bathsheba stood, filled with anxiety, before the palace guard. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he waited, head up, eyes straight ahead. Was it bad news from Rabbah? “Has the king summoned my mother as well?” Why would the king bother himself to personally inform two women they had lost loved ones in the war?
“Your mother?” The guard spoke wryly. “I think not.”
“Then can you tell me why the king wishes to see me?”
He looked at her then, and the expression in his eyes made heat rise into her cheeks again.
Her handmaiden returned with a shawl. Heart pounding, Bathsheba took it and draped it over her head and across one shoulder so that her face wouldn’t be seen. As she went out the door, the guards fell in on either side of her. It didn’t occur to her until she was near the palace entrance that she was still wearing the loose embroidered robe she normally wore only inside her own house.
“This way!” The guard jerked his head and led her toward a pathway around to a side entrance used only by servants. If there had been any question in her mind as to the clandestine reason for the king’s summons, or her social standing in his eyes, she had none now. Tears of shame pricked her eyes. She had only herself to blame for this situation. She kept her head down and her face covered as she went in through the servants’ entrance. She walked through the palace kitchen, the servants’ quarters and corridors, and up a flight of stairs, looking neither to the right nor the left. The guards stopped before a door. One knocked lightly, and the other stood to one side.
The moment the door opened and Bathsheba looked up, she forgot all about the guards. David’s gaze was fixed upon her.
When he smiled and held out his hand, she took it, her breath catching when his fingers closed warm and firm around hers. He drew her into his private chamber as he gave orders to the guard to keep watch. “No one is to disturb me.” And then David closed the door behind her. Her heart leaped and bounded like a rabbit fleeing for its life. He still had hold of her hand, and there seemed to be no indication that he intended to let go. “I’m glad you came.”
“Did I have any choice?”
“You did choose.”
He kissed her hand, his eyes smiling into hers. “Why do you cover your face, when you’re more beautiful than the sun or the moon?”
When she raised her hand to hold her shawl in place, he inclined his head slightly. “Come. I’ve had a meal prepared for us. Let me serve you.”
The air was filled with the sweet scent of incense. Cushions were scattered on the floor. A large bed loomed across the room. Food was spread over a long table. “How many were you expecting?”
He laughed, and the throaty sound made her tremble. “Only you, my sweet.”
“I’m not very hungry.” Gathering her courage, she looked at him. “Do you know who I am?”
“Of course.” His eyes caressed her face. “You’re the little girl wh
o used to stare across the fire at me. Do you remember following me to the stream at En-gedi?”
“I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m—”
“The most beautiful woman in the kingdom.” David searched her eyes. “You said you wanted to talk to me that morning. I told you to go home.” He tucked his finger into her shawl and drew it down from her face. “Talk to me now, Bathsheba.” He stepped closer and lifted the shawl from her hair. “Say whatever is on your mind.” The shawl slipped down from her shoulders and pooled around her feet.
“Why do you call for me now?” Her voice was thick with tears. All the years she had dreamed and hoped. She had never wanted to come to him like this. Summoned in the middle of the night . . .
“You know.” He breathed against her neck.
Her skin tingled. “It’s too late.”
“You’re here with me now.”
She drew back and lifted her chin, scarcely able to see his face through her tears. “Summoned like a harlot and brought to you through the servants’ gate!” She shook her head and bowed her head again. “And I’ve no one else to blame, considering the way I behaved this afternoon. I’m sorry. I—”
“You took my breath away.”
“I did?” Her child’s heart trembled and swelled with pride. “Oh, David. Send me back.”
“Not yet.” He tipped her chin firmly. “You aren’t happy, are you?”
Tears trickled down her cheeks. “How can you ask such a question?”
“I want you to be happy.” He searched her eyes and his expression changed. He looked troubled. “Do you remember your wedding feast? When I looked into your eyes in Hebron, my stomach dropped to my feet. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
“Is that why you left so quickly?”
“Why else?” He put his arms around her.
She put her hands against his chest. She knew she should say something to stop him. She should be like Abigail and make him aware of the sin he was about to commit. But her resolve weakened when she felt his heart pounding faster and harder than her own. He wanted her. I’ll let him kiss me once, just once, and then I’ll say something to stop him. I’ll have his kiss to remember. Just one.
When his mouth took hers, Bathsheba felt herself being pulled down with him into a vortex of desire. His fingers raked through her hair. He moaned her name, and the words of warning died in her throat. As her body caught fire, she clung to him and didn’t say a word.
She knew that if she did, David would remember himself and send her home where she belonged.
Hours later, David stood beside his bed watching Bathsheba sleep. She was so beautiful she made his heart ache. But it would be dawn soon. He had to get her out of the palace before anyone knew she’d been here. When he’d awakened and seen her lying beside him, he thought of Ahithophel, Eliam, and Uriah, and what they would make of this clandestine affair. What was I thinking! They could turn the army against me!
Putting his knee on the bed, he leaned down and kissed her. Her eyes opened slowly, still clouded with sleep. She smiled. “David,” she sighed.
His pulse quickened. Shaken by his feelings, he straightened. “It’s almost daylight, Bathsheba. You have to go.”
Her smile died.
David’s stomach squeezed tight at the wounded look in her eyes. Turning quickly away, she dragged a blanket up and covered herself. Shame hadn’t been in attendance last night, only unbridled passion. But now, morning had come and light streamed in upon the true situation.
“My guards will see you safely back to your house.” Why should he feel guilty? They had a right to some happiness, didn’t they?
She sat up quickly. “I know my way home.” When he heard the soft sound she made as she groped for her discarded robe, he went down on his knees on the bed and reached for her.
“Bathsheba,” he said, his voice hoarse with pent-up emotion. She jerked from his touch. He caught hold of her shoulders and pulled her back against him. She struggled to be free. He locked his arms around her. “Bathsheba,” he said raggedly and buried his face in her neck. How could he let her go after last night? He breathed in the scent of her and knew he was undone.
“I thought last night would be enough.” She put the heels of her hands against her eyes. “I thought I could live on the memories of being with you. But now . . . I feel . . . I feel . . . unclean!” She shuddered.
Her words so mirrored his own feelings that he was disturbed. “Do you think I want to send you away?” He felt torn and frustrated. “I’d keep you with me if it wouldn’t raise a cry across the city. Your father . . . your grandfather.”
“My husband!”
“I have to get you out of here before anyone knows what’s happened between us.”
Her body was tense against him. When he kissed her neck, she leaned her head back with a shaky sigh. “It’s no use. Someone will find out. And I’ll die for it.”
He went rigid. “No one’s going to find out!”
She turned in his arms, and he saw the fear in her eyes. “People already know, David! Your guards, my handmaiden. Any one of a dozen people who saw your men bring me in through the servants’ entrance last night.”
He dug his fingers into her hair. “And who are they to dare speak against the king? My men will keep silent, and you will tell your maid she’d better hold her tongue if she values her life!” He saw the shock in her eyes and spoke more gently. “You didn’t realize what a ruthless man I could be, did you?” He tried to smile, but there was a fierceness inside him that claimed her for his own. “Listen, my love. Suppose someone did whisper of our night together. Would any priest dare confront me?”
“Nathan would.”
“Nathan knows me. He would dismiss any gossip as ugly rumor and nothing more. And besides, who would take the word of a guard or handmaiden over that of a king?” He kissed her tears away. “Trust me. I won’t allow any harm to come to you. I swear it!”
“I’ve always trusted you, David. My father said you’ve always been a man of your word.”
David winced inwardly, but anger rose quickly in self-defense. Why should he feel guilty over spending one night with the woman he desired? What harm could come of something done in secret? He was the king. Didn’t he deserve some happiness? Kings had always taken whomever they wanted. Why shouldn’t he? Who had done more in bringing the tribes together? Who had killed Goliath and rallied the Israelite army to victory? Who had led the kingdom to victory after victory? Who had been wrongly accused and pursued for years all because the people loved him? And during those hard years, who had been the one man to praise God? Besides, it was no one’s business but his own what he did in the privacy of his chamber!
Still, he knew it was wiser to keep his own counsel in this particular matter. He thought of Eliam, his longtime friend. He thought of Ahithophel, his adviser. He thought of Uriah’s courage and ferocity in battle. If they found out Bathsheba had spent the night in his bed, there would be trouble. All three were men of God and would want to follow the letter of the Law. And the Law of Moses demanded that an adulteress be put to death.
Fear gripped David’s belly as he realized the danger to Bathsheba. He shoved it away and reminded himself he was the king! Who would dare touch a woman he loved?
“No stone will ever strike you.” He would kill any man who tried to harm her.
It never once occurred to David that it was he who was shattering her life.
Bathsheba waited for David to summon her again, but he didn’t. She watched for him on the wall, but the king didn’t appear. She listened for word of him, but all she heard was “The king is resting in his palace while our husbands are off at Rabbah fighting his war with the Ammonites!”
“It’s our war,” she said in his defense. “If the Ammonites get away with insulting David’s ambassadors, they might think him weak and attack Jerusalem. Better to have the battle at Rabbah than here.”
She tried to tell herself that David was busy with matters
of state, but jealousy and hurt crept in. Her imagination tormented her. Whom is he holding in his arms tonight? Ahinoam? Abigail? Or had he lost all interest in his wives and concubines? How many other women in this city have looked up at the handsome king strolling along the battlements and yearned to warm his bed? She remembered the girls in the camps, girls exactly like her, who’d gazed at David with adoring eyes and dreamed dreams about him.
David could have anyone he wanted! Even before he was king, women were falling in love with him.
She was stricken with regret and fear as the days passed. If only she had fled to the privacy of her house that day. If only she hadn’t brazenly continued her bath, exposing herself to this endless heartache. She had no one to blame but herself for what she suffered now. She’d gone willingly to David’s bed. She’d told herself love was reason enough to give herself to him. David, her god.
Why hadn’t she thought about the Law before she gave herself to him? He had assured her that no stone would touch her. But what could he do if the priests cried out against her? For if their affair became known, she had no illusions about who would bear the blame. David was a beloved king. She was a powerless woman.
Adultery! She’d committed adultery! How could she have done such a thing after being brought up by her mother, father, and grandfather, who all held to the Law of Moses with such fierce devotion?
If they ever find out, they’ll kill me!
A week passed and then another and another, and she received no summons from the palace, no message, no hint of David’s concern. How easily he had abandoned her!
The time for her monthly show of blood came and went, and terror filled her. After all the years of trying and failing to conceive with Uriah, she was pregnant after one night in David’s arms! Why now? Why under these circumstances? What could she do now?
Had she only imagined the tenderness in David’s touch? Had her hope deceived her into believing she saw love in his eyes? If he loved her, wouldn’t he have summoned her by now? or at the least have sent a message of some kind?
Nothing! He cares nothing about me!
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