She would not! She would find her own life and, if possible, her own love. Her husband would come to mean as little as possible to her.
She stood silently, controlling her tears, and all she could seem to remember was the sweetness of Gavin’s kiss that afternoon, so different from his attack of tonight.
Gavin stirred in the bed and opened his eyes. At first he did not recall where he was. He turned his head, saw the emptiness beside him. She had gone! Every inch of his skin tightened until he noticed Judith in front of the fireplace. He did not think of his sudden fear, but was relieved that she was still with him. She seemed to be in another world and did not hear him turn onto his back. The sheets were liberally sprinkled with blood and Gavin frowned at them. He knew he’d hurt her, but he didn’t understand why. Alice had been a virgin when he took her, but she had shown no pain.
He looked back at his wife, so small, so alone. It was true he had no love for her but he had used her harshly. A maiden did not deserve rape.
“Come back to bed,” he said softly, smiling a bit. He would make love to her slowly, by way of apology.
Judith straightened her shoulders. “No, I will not,” she said firmly. She must begin by not letting him control her.
Gavin stared at her back, aghast. The woman was impossible! She made every sentence a contest of wills. His jaw set, he rose from the bed to stand before her.
Judith had not really seen him nude before and his bare chest, covered with dark hair over sun-bronzed skin, drew her eyes. He looked formidable.
“Have you not learned that you will come to me when I call?”
She lifted her chin and met his eyes. “Have you not learned that I will give nothing to you freely?” she countered.
Gavin stretched out his hand and took a curl from her hip, winding it about his wrist, again and again, pulling Judith nearer as she shrank from the pain. The coverlet fell away and he pulled her bare skin against his.
“Now you use pain to take what you want,” she whispered, “but in the end I will win because you will grow tired of fighting.”
“And what will you have won?” he asked, lips close to her.
“Freedom from a man I hate, a brutal, lying, dishonorable—” She stopped when he kissed her. It was not the kiss of an hour before, but one of gentleness.
At first, Judith refused to react to him but her hands went to his arms. They were hard, the muscles prominent, and his skin was so very warm. She became aware of the hair on his chest against her breasts.
As his kiss deepened, he loosened his hand from her hair, his arms encircling her shoulders. He moved her so her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder.
Judith gave up thinking. She was a mass of sensation—every feeling new and undreamed of. She pressed closer, running her hands over his back, feeling the way the muscles moved, so different from the smoothness of her own back. He began to kiss her ears, little nibbles on the lobes. Gavin gave a low, throaty chuckle when Judith’s knees turned to water and she collapsed against the strength of his arm behind her back. He bent, put his other arm beneath her knees, his mouth never leaving her neck, and carried her to the bed. He kissed her body from her forehead to her toes and Judith lay silent, only her senses alive.
Before long she could bear no more kissing. She ached all over, and she pulled his hair to better meet his mouth. She fastened on his lips hungrily, with greed.
Gavin’s senses, too, were reeling. Never had he had the leisure to make love to a woman as he did tonight, and never had he imagined the pleasure of it. Judith’s passion was as fierce as his own, yet neither rushed their lovemaking. When he moved atop her, her arms held him tightly, pulling him nearer. There was no pain for Judith this time; she was ready. She moved with him, slowly at first, until they exploded together joyously.
Eventually Judith fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, her leg thrown over Gavin’s, her hair twisted round and round his arm.
But Gavin did not fall asleep immediately. He knew that this was the first time for this soft woman he held, but in a way he felt as if he had just lost his virginity, too. And that was certainly an absurd idea. He could not possibly remember all the women he’d taken to his bed. But tonight was infinitely different. Never had he experienced such passion. With other women, when he felt his arousal at its height, they drew back. But not Judith. She had given as much as he gave.
He picked up a lock of her hair from across his neck and held it up, letting the firelight play though the strands. He held it to his nose, then to his lips. She moved against him and he snuggled closer. Even in sleep she wanted him nearby.
Gavin’s eyes grew heavy. For the first time he could ever remember, he was sated and content. Ah, but there was the morning. He smiled before he drifted asleep.
Jocelin Laing returned his lute to its leather case and gave a barely perceptible nod to the blonde lady before she left the room. There had been several offers that night from women to share their beds. The excitement of the wedding and especially of seeing the handsome couple undressed and put to bed had sent many people off to find pleasure of their own.
The singer was an especially handsome young man; hot, dark eyes under long, thick lashes; dark hair that waved away from perfect skin that stretched over high cheekbones.
“Busy tonight?” one of the other singers called, laughing.
Jocelin smiled as he fastened his lute case but did not answer.
“I envy a man with a bride such as that.” The other man nodded toward the stairs.
“Yes, she is beautiful,” Jocelin agreed. “But there are others.”
“Not like that one.” The man moved closer to his friend. “There are some of us meeting with a few of the brides’ women. You are welcome to come.”
“No,” Jocelin said quietly. “I cannot.”
The singer gave Jocelin a sly look, gathered his psaltery and left the great hall.
When the enormous room was quiet, the floor spread with hundreds of straw mats for the sleeping retainers and guests of lesser importance, Jocelin made his way upstairs. He wondered how the woman he went to meet could have arranged a private room. Alice Valence was not rich, and though her beauty had won her an earl’s ring, she was not one of the higher-born guests. On this night, when the castle was overflowing, only the bride and groom had a room alone. The other guests shared beds set out in the ladies’ solar or in the master bedroom. The beds were large—often eight-foot squares—and with the heavy curtains surrounding them, they seemed like individual chambers.
Jocelin had no trouble entering the room set aside for the unmarried women; several men had slipped through the door already. It was easy to see the bed curtains slip aside and glimpse the blonde. He went to her quickly. The sight of her filled him with desire. Alice held out her arms, hungry for him, almost violent in her passion and any attempt Jocelin made to prolong their pleasures met with resistance. She was like a storm, full of lightning and thunder.
When it was over, she did not want Jocelin to touch her. Always alert to a woman’s moods, he obeyed her unspoken wish. Never had he seen a woman who did not want to be held after lovemaking. He started to don his hastily discarded clothes.
“I will be married in a month,” she said quietly. “You will come to my husband’s castle then.”
He did not comment. They both knew he would be there; he just wondered how many other men she asked.
A single ray of sunshine came through the window, its heat tickling Judith’s nose. Sleepily, she brushed at it then tried to turn away but something held her by the hair. She lazily opened her eyes and saw the strange bed canopy overhead. When she remembered where she was, she felt her face grow hot. Even her body seemed to blush.
She moved her head toward the other side of the bed and looked at her sleeping husband. His lashes were short, thick and dark, a new growth of beard starting on his cheeks. Asleep, his cheekbones were not as sharp. Even the deep cleft in his chin seemed relaxed.
Gavi
n lay on his side, facing her and Judith let her eyes roam over him. His broad chest was liberally covered with dark, curling hair. The muscles made large, shapely mounds. His arms was capped by a round, firm muscle. Her eyes drew down to his hard, flat stomach. It was only after a moment that her eyes went lower. What she saw did not seem so powerful but as she watched, his manhood began to grow.
She gasped and her eyes flew back to his. He was awake, watching her, his eyes growing darker by the moment. No longer was he the relaxed boy-man she had awakened to, but a man of passion. Judith tried to move away but Gavin still held her trapped by her hair. What was worse, she did not truly want to resist. She remembered that she hated him; but more than that, she remembered her pleasure when he made love to her.
“Judith,” he whispered and the tone of his voice made chills run along her arms.
He kissed the corner of her mouth. Her hands pushed weakly against his shoulders but even at his slight touch, her eyes closed in surrender. He kissed her cheek, her earlobe. Then, as she gasped for breath, his mouth came down on hers. His tongue sweetly touched the tip of hers. She drew back, startled. He smiled at her as if he understood. Last night Judith thought she’d learned all there was to know about love between a man and a woman, but now she thought, perhaps she knew very, very little.
His eyes were smoky-gray as he pulled her to him again. He ran his tongue along her lips, touching the inner corners especially. She parted her teeth for him and tasted of him. He was better than the richest honey; hot and cold, soft and firm. She explored his mouth as he had explored hers. She had no idea of shyness. In truth, she had no ideas at all.
She ran her hands over him as he lowered his head to her neck, running his tongue along the pulse beat there. Instinctively she leaned her head back, her breathing deeper, quicker.
When his lips and tongue touched her breasts, she nearly cried out. She thought perhaps she might die under such torture. She tried to pull his head back to her mouth but he gave a deep, guttural laugh that made her shiver. Maybe he did own her.
When she thought that she would lose her mind, he moved on top of her, his hand caressing the inside of her thighs until she was shaking with desire. When he entered her, she cried out; there was no relief to her torment. She clutched at him, her legs about his waist as she rose to meet each thrust. Finally, when she was sure she would explode, she felt the pulsing throbs that released her. Gavin collapsed on top of her, holding her so close that she could hardly breathe. But at the moment she didn’t really care if she ever did breathe again.
An hour later the maids came to dress Judith, waking the bridal couple. Suddenly she was very aware of her hair and her body wrapped around Gavin’s. Maud and Joan had several things to say about Judith’s abandonment. The sheets were stained, and there were more linens on the floor than on the bed. The squirrel coverlet was on the other side of the room by the fireplace.
The maids pulled Judith up and helped her to wash. Gavin lazily lolled on the bed and watched every movement.
Judith would not look at him; she could not. She was embarrassed to the very depths of her soul. She detested the man. He was everything she hated; dishonorable, a liar, greedy, yet she had acted with no pride when he touched her. She’d made a vow to him—and to God—that he would get nothing from her, but he took more from her than she’d wanted to give.
She hardly noticed as her maids slipped a thin linen chemise over her head, then a gown of deep green velvet. The dress had been embroidered with intricate gold designs. The front of the skirt was divided, revealing a wide stripe of the silk underskirt. The sleeves were full and gathered at the wrists. They were cut in places, and the lighter green silk underdress was pulled through the slashes.
“And now, my lady,” Maud said as she handed Judith a large, flat ivory box.
Judith stared at her maid in surprise as she held the box open. On a black velvet bed lay a wide collar of gold filagree, the tiny wire in places as thin as hair. Along the bottom of the necklace was a row of emeralds, many of them perfectly matched in size, none of them bigger than a raindrop. “It is…beautiful,” Judith whispered. “How did my mother—”
“It is your bride’s gift from your husband,” Maud said, her eyes sparkling.
Judith could feel Gavin’s eyes on her back. She whirled and faced him. The sight of him in bed, his skin so dark against the whiteness of the sheets, made her knees weak. It took great will, but she bent one knee and curtsied. “Thank you, my lord.”
Gavin’s jaw clenched at her coldness. He would have liked the gift to thaw her somewhat. How could she be so hot in bed, so cold and haughty out of it?
Judith turned back to her maids and Maud finished fastening the buttons of the gown. Joan plaited the top layer of her mistress’s hair, and intertwined the braids with gold ribbons. Before they finished, Gavin commanded them to leave the room. Judith did not look at him as he hurriedly shaved and dressed in a dark brown doublet and hose, a tawny wool jacket over it, the lining of golden lynx.
When he stepped toward her, she had to forcibly calm her hammering heart. He held his arm out for her and led her to the waiting guests below.
They attended mass together, but for this mass there was no hand kissing or staring at each other. They were solemn and sober throughout the service.
Chapter Seven
THE GROUNDS OUTSIDE THE REVEDOUNE MANOR RANG with noise, the air charged with excitement. Brilliantly colored pennants were everywhere, fluttering from the stands and from the tents that covered the field. The clothing flashed in the sunlight like jewels. Children dashed in and out of knots of people. Vendors, with large boxes hanging about their necks, hawked their wares, selling anything from fruit and pies to holy relics.
The lists itself was a sand-covered field a hundred yards long with two rows of wooden fences along both sides. The inner fence was short—only three feet high—but the outer one was eight feet. The space inside was for the squires and horses of the participating knights. Outside the tall fence, the merchant class and the serfs pressed for a view of the games and jousts.
The ladies and the knights who did not participate sat on terraced benches high enough above the lists to see everything. The benches were canopied and marked with sendal banners displaying the colors of each family. Several areas bore the Montgomery leopards.
Before the joust began, the knights walked about in their armor. Depending on the wealth of the knight, the quality and modernity of the armor varied greatly. There could be seen the old-fashioned chain mail or the newer plates sewn onto leather. The richest knights wore the new Maxmilian armor from Germany. It covered a man from head to foot in fine steel. There was not an inch that went unprotected. It was a heavy protection, weighing well over a hundred pounds. On top of the helmets were plumes showing the colors of the knight.
As Judith and Gavin walked toward the tourney grounds, Judith was bewildered by all the noise and smells surrounding them. It was new and exciting to her, but Gavin had his own contradictory thoughts. The night had been a revelation. Never had he come near enjoying a woman as much as he had Judith. Too often his couplings had been hurried or secret meetings with Alice. Gavin did not love the woman who was his wife—in fact, he found talking to her infuriating—but never had he known such uninhibited passion.
Judith saw Raine coming toward them. He was dressed in full armor for the joust. The steel was etched with tiny gold fleurs-de-lis. He carried his helmet under his arm, and he walked as if he were used to the enormous weight of the armor. And he was.
Judith did not realize she dropped her hand from Gavin’s arm when she recognized her brother-in-law. Raine came toward her quickly, a dimpled smile on his face, a smile that had turned many feminine knees to water.
“Hello, my little sister,” he grinned down at her. “This morning I thought I had dreamed such beauty, but I see you are more than I remembered.”
She was delighted. “And you make the day brighter. Will you enter the event
s?” She nodded toward the sand-covered field.
“Both Miles and I will take part in the joust.”
Neither of them seemed to be aware of Gavin as he scowled at them.
“And these ribbons I see the men wearing,” Judith said. “What do they mean?”
“A lady may choose a knight of her favor and give him a token.”
“Then I may give you a ribbon?” She smiled at him.
Raine was immediately on one knee before her, the hinges of the armor creaking, steel against steel clanging. “I would be honored.”
Judith lifted the transparent veil that covered her hair and took one of the gold ribbons from a braid. It was obvious that her maids had known about the giving of favors to a knight.
Raine smiled at her as he put his hand on his hip and she tied the ribbon around his upper arm. Before she finished, Miles walked to the other side of her and knelt also. “You would not favor one brother over the other, would you?”
Today, when she looked at Miles, she understood what other women had understood about him since he had his first beard. Yesterday she had been a virgin and had not known the meaning of his intense gaze. She blushed prettily and bent her head to slip another ribbon around her other brother’s arm.
Raine saw the blush and began to laugh. “Don’t start on her, Miles,” he laughed, for Miles’s women were a common joke about the Montgomery castle. Stephen, the second brother, once complained that Miles had impregnated half the serf girls by the time he was seventeen, the other half by eighteen. “Don’t you see Gavin glaring at us?”
“I see both of you making fools of yourselves,” Gavin said with a snarl. “There are other women here. Go find one of them to parade yourselves before like braying jackasses.”
Judith had barely finished tying the knot of the ribbon on Miles before Gavin’s fingers bit into her arm and he forced her away. “You’re hurting me!” she said, trying to pry his fingers loose but making no progress.
The Velvet Promise Page 7