“I will more than hurt you if you flaunt yourself before other men again.”
“Flaunt!” she jerked her arm but only succeeded in tightening Gavin’s grip. All around her were knights kneeling to ladies, receiving ribbons, belts, sleeves of gowns, even jewels, and yet he accused her of flaunting herself. “A dishonest person always believes dishonesty of others. Maybe you seek to accuse me of your own faults.”
He stopped and stared at her, his eyes dark. “I accuse you only of what I know to be true. You’re hot for a man, and I will not have you playing the whore for my brothers. Now sit here and cause no more strife among us.” He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Judith alone in the stands garlanded with the Montgomery crest.
For a moment, Judith’s senses did not function; she could neither see nor hear. What Gavin said was unjust and she could have dismissed it as such, except that he’d thrown in her face what they did in private—that she could not forgive. Had she done wrong in responding to his touch? If so, how did one stop? She could barely remember the events of the night. It was all one delicious red-velvet blur to her. His hands on her body had sent waves of delight through her; after that, she recalled little. Yet he threw it at her as if she were unclean. She blinked back tears of frustration. She was right to hate him.
She mounted the steps to enter the Montgomery seats. Her husband had left her alone to meet his relatives. Judith held her head high and refused to let anyone see that tears were beginning to well.
“Lady Judith.”
A soft voice finally penetrated her senses, and she turned to see an older woman dressed in the somber habit of a nun.
“I would like to introduce myself. I met you yesterday, but I am not sure you will remember. I am Gavin’s sister, Mary.” Mary was staring at her brother’s back. It was not like Gavin to walk away and leave a woman unattended. All four of her brothers—Gavin, Stephen, Raine and Miles—were extremely courteous. Yet Gavin had not smiled once at his bride, and although he did not participate in the games, he went to the tents. Mary could not understand him at all.
Gavin walked through the crowds to the tents at the end of the lists. Many people slapped him on the back and gave him knowing winks. The closer he got to the tents, the louder came the familiar clang of iron and steel. He hoped that the sanity of mock war would calm him.
He held his shoulders back, kept his eyes straight ahead. No one would have guessed the blind rage that filled him. She was a bitch! A conniving, masterful bitch! All he could think was that he wanted to beat her and make love to her at the same time. He had stood there and watched as she smiled so sweetly at his brothers; yet when she looked at him, it was as if he were something detestable.
And all he could think of was the way she’d been with him during the night. She had kissed him greedily, held him to her hungrily, but only after he had forced her to come to him. He’d raped her once, used the pain of her hair twisted around his arm to command her to him the second time. Even the third time, he had had to act against her initial protest. Yet she laughed and gave his brothers gold ribbons—gold like her eyes. If she gave such passion to him whom she freely admitted she hated, what would she be like with a man she liked? He had watched her with Raine and Miles, imagined them touching her, kissing her. Suddenly it was all Gavin could do to keep from knocking her to the ground. He wanted to hurt her, and he had. At least there was some satisfaction in that, except that he got no pleasure from it. In truth, the expression on her face only made him more furious. The damn woman had no right to look at him so coldly.
Angrily, he threw back the flap of Miles’s tent. Since Miles was on the field, it should have been empty, but it wasn’t. Alice stood there, her eyes sedately lowered, her little mouth submissive. She was a welcome relief to Gavin, who’d had too much in the last day of a woman who snarled at him then drove him insane with her body. Alice was what a woman should be—calm, a subordinate to a man. Without thought, he grabbed her, kissing her violently. He enjoyed it when she melted in his arms. She offered no resistance, and he was glad of that.
Alice had never seen Gavin in such a mood, and she silently thanked whoever was responsible. Yet, for all her desire, she was no fool. A tournament was too public, especially when so many of Gavin’s relatives camped nearby. “Gavin,” she whispered against his lips, “this is neither the place nor the time.”
He pulled away from her immediately, feeling that at that moment he could not stand another reluctant female. “Go then!” he stormed as he left the tent.
Alice looked after him, a frown creasing her smooth brow. Obviously, the pleasure of bedding his new wife had not turned him from herself, as she feared it might. But still he was not the Gavin she knew.
Walter Demari could not take his eyes off Judith. She sat quietly in the Montgomery pavilion, listening attentively to her new relatives as they welcomed her to the family. Every minute since he’d first seen her, when she left the castle to ride to the church, he had watched her. He’d seen Judith slip away to the walled garden behind the tower, seen the look on her face when she returned. He felt as if he knew her, and more than that…he loved her. He loved the way she walked, with her head up, her chin firm, as if she were ready to face the world no matter what lay ahead. He loved her eyes, her little nose.
He’d spent the night alone, thinking of her, imagining her as his.
Now, after a sleepless night, he began to wonder why she was not his. His family was as rich as that of the Montgomeries and more. He’d been a frequent visitor to the Revedoune manor, a friend to Judith’s brothers.
Robert Revedoune had just purchased a lapful of fried wafers from one of the vendors and was holding a mug of verjuice.
Walter did not hesitate or take time to explain what had become a burning issue to him. “Why didn’t you offer the girl to me?” he demanded, towering over the seated man.
Robert looked up in surprise. “What ails you, boy? You should be on the field with the other men.”
Walter sat down and ran his hand through his hair. He was not an unattractive man, but neither was he handsome. He had eyes of a nondescript blue and a too-prominent nose. His lips were thin, shapeless, and could easily be cruel. His sandy hair was carefully curled into a tight little roll about his neck. “The girl, your daughter,” he repeated. “Why didn’t you offer her to me? I spent enough time with your sons. I’m not rich, but my estates rival those of Gavin Montgomery.”
Robert shrugged, eating a wafer, the jelly oozing out between the crisp layers, and drinking deeply of the sour verjuice. “There are other rich women for you,” he observed noncommittally.
“But not like her!” Walter responded vehemently.
Robert looked at him in surprise.
“Can’t you see she is beautiful?” Walter asked.
Robert looked across the pavilions that separated him from his daughter. “Yes, I see she is beautiful,” he said with disgust. “But what is beauty? It fades in no time. Her mother once looked like that, and you see her now.”
Walter did not have to look back at the nervous, emaciated woman who sat on the edge of her seat, ready to spring should her husband decide to cuff her. He ignored Robert’s remark. “Why did you keep her hidden? What need was there to keep her from the world?”
“It was her mother’s idea.” Robert smiled slightly. “She paid for the keeping of the girl, and it made no difference to me. Why do you ask me these things now? Can’t you see the joust is about to begin?”
Walter grabbed Robert by the arm. He knew the man well, knew him for the cowardice of his actions. “Because I want her. Never have I seen a woman more desirable. She should have been mine! My lands ajoin yours. I am a fit match for her, yet you did not even show her to me.”
Robert pulled his arm away from the young man. “You! A fit match?” he sneered. “Look at the Montgomeries that surround the girl. There is Thomas, nearly sixty years old. He has six sons, all living, and all producing more sons. Next to hi
m sits Ralph, his cousin, with five sons. Then Hugh with—”
“What has this to do with your daughter?” Walter interrupted angrily.
“Sons!” Robert bellowed in the man’s ear. “The Montgomeries produce more sons that any other family in England. And what sons! Look at the family the girl married into. The youngest, Miles, won his spurs on the field of battle before he was eighteen, and already he has fathered three sons of the serf girls. Raine spent three years touring the country from one tournament to the next. He was undefeated and won a fortune of his own. Stephen serves now in Scotland with the king, and already he leads armies though he is only twenty-five. And last comes the eldest. At sixteen he was left alone with estates to run, brothers to care for. He had no guardian to help him learn the work of a man. What other sixteen-year-olds could do as he did? Most of them whine when they are not given their way.”
He looked back at Walter. “And now you ask why I give Judith to such a man? If I cannot produce sons that are strong enough to live, perhaps I can get grandsons from her.”
Walter was furious. He’d lost Judith merely because the old man dreamed of grandsons. “I could give her sons!” Walter said through clenched teeth.
“You!” Robert began to laugh. “How many sisters do you have? Five? Six? I lose count of them. And what have you done? Your father runs your estates. You do little, except hunt and tickle the serf girls. Now leave me and don’t cry to me again. If I have a mare I want bred, I give her to the best stallion. It will be left at that.” He turned back to look at the joust, dismissing Walter from his mind.
But Demari was not a man to be dismissed so easily. Everything Robert said was true. Walter had done little of merit in his short life, but that was only because he had not been forced to as the Montgomery men had been. Walter had no doubt that had he been forced, by the early death of his father, into a position of responsibility, he would have done as well or better than any other man.
He left the stands a changed man. A seed had been planted in his mind and that seed began to grow. He watched the games begin, the gold Montgomery leopard everywhere, and as he saw it glitter in the sun, he began to think of it as an enemy. He wanted to prove to Robert and to the Montgomeries, but mostly to himself, that he was everything they were. The longer he stared at the green and gold pennants, the more he was sure he hated the Montgomeries. What had they done to deserve the rich Revedoune lands? Why should they have what should have been his? For years he’d suffered the company of Judith’s brothers, yet had never taken anything in return. Now, when there was something he wanted and should have had, he was denied it because of the Montgomeries.
Walter left the fence and started walking toward the Montgomery pavilion. The growing anger at the injustice he felt gave him courage. He would talk to this Judith, spend time with her. After all, by rights, she was his, wasn’t she?
Chapter Eight
JUDITH SLAMMED SHUT HER CHAMBER DOOR SO HARD THAT even the stone walls seemed to shake. It was the end of the first day of her marriage, and it could easily qualify as the most horrible day of her life. It should have been happy, a day full of love and laughter—but not with the husband she had! There had not been an opportunity missed by Gavin to humiliate her.
In the morning he accused her of being a whore for his brothers. When he stalked away and left her to herself, she talked to other people. One man, Walter Demari, was kind enough to sit by her and explain the workings of the tourney. For the first time that day, she began to enjoy herself. Walter had a knack for seeking the ridiculous, and she greatly enjoyed his humor.
Gavin suddenly reappeared and commanded her to follow him. Judith didn’t want to cause a scene in public, but in the privacy of Raine’s tent, she told Gavin what she thought of his behavior. He left her alone to take care of herself, but when she showed any enjoyment, he took it away from her. He was like a small boy with a toy he didn’t want but made sure no one else could have it. He’d sneered at Judith then, but she saw with satisfaction that he had no answer for her.
When Raine and Miles came in she and Gavin stopped their quarrel. Later, she walked with Miles back to the tourney. It was then that Gavin truly demeaned her. As soon as Alice Valence appeared, he practically ran forward. Gavin looked as if he could eat her, devour her, yet at the same time he looked at her with reverence, as if she were saintly. Judith had not missed the sidelong look of triumph Alice gave her. Judith pulled her eyes away, straightened her back and took Miles’ arm. She would let no one see how she’d been publicly embarrassed.
Later, at dinner, Gavin ignored Judith, even though they were seated side by side at the high table. She laughed at the jester, pretended to be pleased when an extremely handsome jongleur composed and sang a song to her beauty. Truthfully, she hardly heard him. Gavin’s nearness had an unsettling effect on her, and she could enjoy nothing.
After the meal, the trestle tables were dismantled and pushed against the wall to make room for dancing. After one dance together, for the sake of propriety, Gavin had proceeded to whirl one woman after another in his arms. Judith had more invitations to dance than she could accept, but soon she pleaded fatigue and ran up the stairs to the privacy of her room.
“A bath,” she demanded of Joan, whom she’d dragged from a corner of the stairwell where she was intertwined with a young man. “Bring a tub and hot water. Maybe I can wash away some of today’s stench.”
Contrary to what Judith believed, Gavin had been very aware of his wife’s presence. There had not been a moment when he had not known where she was or whom she was with. It seemed she had talked for hours to some man at the tourney. She laughed at his every word, smiling up at him until the man was obviously besotted.
Gavin had pulled her away for her own good. He knew Judith had no idea how she affected a man. She was like a child. Everything was new to her. She looked up at the man with nothing hidden, nothing held in reserve. She laughed openly at what he said, and Gavin could see the man took her friendliness for more than she meant it to be.
Gavin meant to explain this to her, but when she attacked him, accusing him of all manner of insulting things, he would have died rather than explain his actions. He’d feared that he might wrap his hands about her lovely throat. At least Alice’s brief appearance had calmed him. Alice was like a cool drink for a man just stepped from the rages of hell.
Now as he held his hands on the fat hips of an unattractive young woman, he watched Judith mount the steps. He did not dance with her, afraid he might apologize. For what? he wondered. He’d been kind to Judith until that time in the garden when she’d started acting insane, making vows she had no right to make. He was right in taking her away from the man who obviously thought her smiles meant more than they did, but she made Gavin feel as if he were wrong.
He waited a while, danced with two more women, but Judith did not return to the great hall. Impatiently, he climbed the stairs. In those brief seconds, he imagined all sorts of things she could be doing.
When he opened the door to the chamber Judith lay up to her neck in a tub of steamy water. Her auburn hair was piled atop her head in a soft mass of curls. Her eyes were closed, her head resting on the rim of the tub. The water must have been very hot because her face was lightly dampened with sweat. All his muscles froze at the sight of her. She had frowned at him, raged at him and even then she was magnificent, but now she was innocence personified. Suddenly he knew that this was what he wanted from her, this was all he needed. What did it matter that she despised him? She was his and his alone. His heart was pounding as he closed the door behind him.
“Joan?” Judith said languidly. Receiving no answer, her eyes flew open. She saw the look on Gavin’s face and knew his thoughts. In spite of herself, her heart began beating quickly. “Leave me to my privacy,” she managed to whisper.
He ignored her as he advanced, his dark eyes grown darker. He bent over her, took her chin in his hand. She tried to pull away but he held her fast. He kissed her, roug
hly at first but then his grip and kiss became gentle, deep.
Judith felt herself drifting. The pleasure of the hot water, his hand on her cheek, his kiss, weakened her. He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes, the gold warm and glowing. All thoughts of hatred were gone from them. There was only the nearness of their bodies. Their hunger for each other overcame any hostility or even thoughts of who loved whom.
Gavin knelt by the tub, his hand moving to the back of Judith’s neck. He kissed her again, ran his mouth along the curve of her neck. She was moist and warm and the rising steam was like his growing passion. He was ready, but he wanted to prolong his pleasure, drag it out to the height of near-pain. Her ears were sweet and smelled of the rose-scented soap she used.
Suddenly he wanted to see her—all of her. Gavin put his hands under Judith’s arms and lifted her. She gasped at the unexpected movement, at the coolness of the air after the heat of the water. A soft, warm towel hung within arm’s reach, which Gavin wrapped her in. Judith did not speak. Somewhere, buried in her mind, was the knowledge that words would break the spell. He touched her tenderly—no harsh demands, no bruising. He sat on a bench before the fire and stood her between his legs as if she were a child.
Had someone spoken of such a scene, Judith would have denied that it could happen, that Gavin was an insensitive brute. She felt no embarrassment by her nudity while he remained fully clothed, only wonder at the magic of the moment. Gavid dried her carefully. He was a bit clumsy, too rough at times, too gentle at others.
“Turn,” he commanded and she obeyed as he dried her back. He tossed the towel to the floor and Judith held her breath. But he did not speak. Then he ran his fingers down the deep indentation of her spine. She could feel the chills his touch brought. His one finger said more than a hundred caresses.
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