She smiled at him. “That would be pleasant.”
He scooped her from the bank, then tossed her playfully in the air. She grabbed his neck in fright. “I could grow to like this fear of yours,” he laughed, as he pressed her to him. He carried her across the stream to a hill which was indeed covered with wildflowers, and built a fire under an overhanging rock ledge. In minutes he returned with a dressed haunch of the boar and set it to roasting over the fire. He wouldn’t let Judith move or help in any way. When the meat was cooking and there was a plentiful supply of firewood, Gavin left her again and returned in moments with his tabard raised about his hips, as if he carried something.
“Close your eyes,” he said, and when she obeyed, he showered her with flowers. “You can’t go to them, so they must come to you.”
She looked at him, her lap and the ground around her covered in a riot of sweet-smelling blossoms. “Thank you, my lord,” she said, smiling brilliantly.
He sat down beside her, one hand behind his back, leaning close to her. “I have another gift,” he said as he held out three fragile columbines to her.
They were beautiful, delicate things of light violet and white. She reached to take them but he moved them from her grasp. She looked at him in surprise.
“They’re not free.” He was teasing her again, but the expression on her face showed him she didn’t know it. He felt a pang of remorse that he had hurt her so badly that she should look at him so. Suddenly Gavin wondered if he were any better than her father. He ran a finger lightly down her cheek. “It’s a small price to pay,” he said gently. “I would like to hear you call me by my name.”
Her eyes cleared and were warm again. “Gavin,” she said quietly as he handed her the flowers. “Thank you, my…Gavin for the flowers.”
He sighed lazily and leaned back on the grass, his hands behind his head. “My Gavin!” he repeated. “It has a nice sound to it.” He moved one hand and idly twisted a curl of her hair about his palm. Her back was to him as she gathered the flowers around and put them into a bouquet. Ever orderly, he thought.
Unexpectedly, it occurred to him that it had been years since he’d had a peaceful day on his own lands. Always the responsibility of the castle had nagged at him, but in a few days his wife had so ordered matters that he could lie about in the grass and think of little but the sound of honeybees and the silky texture of a beautiful woman’s hair.
“Were you really angry about Simon?” Judith asked.
Gavin could barely remember who Simon was. “No,” he smiled. “I just didn’t like a woman to accomplish what I couldn’t. And I’m not so sure that this new lure is better.”
She whirled to face him. “It is! Simon agreed instantly. I’m sure the hawks will catch more game now and—” She stopped when she saw him laughing at her. “You are a vain man.”
“I?” Gavin asked, bracing himself upon his elbows. “I am the least vain of men.”
“Haven’t you just said you were angry because a woman did what you couldn’t?”
“Oh,” Gavin said as he relaxed back on the grass, his eyes shut. “That’s not the same. A man is always surprised when a woman does anything but sew and manage children.”
“You!” Judith said in disgust then grabbed a handful of grass with a clod of dirt attached to it and threw it in his face.
He opened his eyes in surprise then pulled the grime from his mouth. His eyes narrowed. “You will pay for that,” he said as he stealthily moved toward her.
Judith backed away, fearful of the pain she knew he would cause her. She started to rise but he grabbed her bare ankle and held it fast. “No,” she began before he descended on her…and began to tickle her. Judith was surprised as much as anything, then she began to giggle. She drew her knees to her chest to try to keep his hands from her sides, but he was merciless.
“Do you take it back?”
“No,” she gasped. “You are vain—a thousand times more vain than a woman.”
His fingers ran up and down her ribs until she thrashed about under him.
“Please stop,” she cried, “I can’t stand any more!”
Gavin’s hands stilled and he leaned close to her face. “Are you beaten?”
“No,” she said, but added quickly, “though you may not be as vain as I thought.”
“That is a sorry apology.”
“It was made under torture.”
He smiled down at her, the setting sun making her skin golden, her hair spread about her like a fiery sunset. “Who are you, my wife?” he whispered, devouring her with his eyes. “You curse me one moment, enchant me the next. You defy me until I could take the life from you; then you smile at me, and I am dazed at your loveliness. You are like no other woman I have ever known. I have yet to see you put needle to thread, but I have seen you up to your knees in the muck of the fishpond. You ride a horse as well as a man, yet I find you in a tree shivering like a child in a mortal fear. Are you ever the same from one moment to the next? Do two days ever find you the same?”
“I am Judith. I am no one else, nor do I know how to be anyone else.”
His hand caressed her temple; then he bent and touched his lips to hers. They were sunwarmed and sweet. He had barely tasted of her when the heavens suddenly opened with an enormous blast of thunder and began to empty a heavy torrent of rain on them.
Gavin uttered a very foul word Judith had never heard before. “To the overhang!” he said, then remembered her ankle. He picked her up and raced with her to the deep shelter, where the fire sputtered and crackled, the meat fat dripping into it. Gavin’s temper was not helped by the abrupt shower. Angrily, he went to the fire. One side of the meat was burned black, the other raw. Neither of them had thought to turn it.
“You’re a poor cook,” he said. He was annoyed at having a perfect moment destroyed.
She gave him a blank look. “I sew better than I cook.”
He stared at her, then began to laugh. “Well met.” He looked out at the rain. “I must see to my stallion. He won’t like standing in this with his saddle on.”
Always concerned for the welfare of animals, Judith turned on him. “You’ve left your poor horse unattended all this time?”
He did not like her tone of command. “And where, pray tell, is your mare? Do you care so lightly for her that you don’t care what has become of her?”
“I—” she began. She had been so enthralled with Gavin that she had given her horse no thought at all.
“Then set yourself to rights before you order me about.”
“I wasn’t ordering you.”
“And pray, what else then?”
Judith turned away from him. “Go then. Your horse waits in the rain.”
Gavin started to speak then changed his mind as he went into the rain.
Judith sat rubbing her ankle, scolding herself. She seemed to make him angry at every turn. Then she stopped. What did it matter if she made him angry? She hated him, didn’t she? He was a vile, dishonorable man and one day of kindness wouldn’t change her feelings of hatred for him. Or could it?
“My lord.”
She heard the voice as if from far away.
“My Lord Gavin. Lady Judith.” The voices came closer.
Gavin swore under his breath as he tightened the cinch he had just loosened. He’d forgotten all about his men. What spell had that little witch cast on him that he forgot his horse and even worse, forgot his men who diligently searched for them? Now they rode about in the rain, wet, cold and no doubt hungry. For all he would have liked to go back to Judith, perhaps spend the night with her, his men must come first.
He walked his horse across the stream and up the hill. They would have seen the fire by now.
“You are unharmed, my lord?” John Bassett asked when they met, water dripping off his nose.
“Yes,” Gavin said flatly, not looking at his wife who leaned against the rock ledge. “We were caught in the storm and Judith hurt her ankle,” he began, then st
opped when John looked pointedly at the sky. A spring cloudburst was hardly a storm, and both Gavin and his wife could have ridden the one horse.
John was an older man, a knight of Gavin’s father, and he was experienced in dealing with young men. “I see, my lord. We have brought the lady’s mare.”
“Damn, damn, damn!” Gavin muttered. Now she’d made him lie to his men. He went to her mare and savagely tightened the cinch.
For all the pain in her injured ankle, Judith hobbled quickly toward him. “Don’t be so rough with my horse,” she said possessively.
He turned on her. “Don’t be so rough with me, Judith!”
Judith silently stared through the half-open shutter at the starlit night. She wore a bedrobe of indigo blue damask lined with light blue silk, trimmed around the neck, down the front and around the hem with white ermine. The rain had cleared and the night air was fresh. Reluctantly, she turned away from the window to her empty bed. Judith knew what was wrong with her, though she hated to admit it. What sort of woman was she that she pined for the caresses of a man she despised? She closed her eyes and could almost feel his hands and his lips on her body. Had she no pride that her body betrayed her mind? She slipped off the robe and slid, nude, into the chilly bed.
Her heart nearly stopped when she heard heavy footsteps pause outside the room. She waited, breathlessly, for a long while before the steps receded down the hall. She banged her fist into the feather pillow and it was a long, long time before she slept.
Gavin stood outside her door for several minutes before going to the room he now used. What was wrong with him? he demanded of himself. Where did this new timidity with women come from? She was ready for him; he’d seen it in her eyes. Today, for the first time in many weeks, she’d smiled at him and for the first time ever, she’d called him by his first name. Could he risk losing that little gain by forcing his way into her chamber and again risk causing new hate?
What did it matter if he raped Judith again? Hadn’t he enjoyed it the first night? He undressed quickly and slid into the empty bed. He didn’t want to rape her again. No, he wanted her to smile at him, to call his name and hold her arms out to him. Gone from his mind were all thoughts of triumph. He fell asleep remembering the way she’d clung to him when she’d been frightened.
Chapter Twelve
GAVIN WOKE VERY EARLY AFTER A FRETFUL NIGHT’S SLEEP. The castlefolk were beginning to stir, but the sound was still subdued. His first thought was of Judith. He wanted to see her. Had she really smiled at him yesterday?
He dressed quickly in a linen shirt and a coarse woolen doublet, secured with a wide leather belt. He pulled linen hose over his muscular calves and thighs, tieing them to the linen braies that he wore as a loincloth. Afterward, he hurried down the stairs to the garden and there cut a fragrant red rose, its petals kissed by pearly drops of dew.
The door to Judith’s chamber was closed. Silently, Gavin opened it. She was asleep, one hand tangled in her hair which was spread across her bare shoulders and the pillow beside her. He placed the rose on the pillow and gently removed a curl from her cheek.
Judith opened her eyes slowly. It seemed a part of her dreams to see Gavin so near. She touched his face gently, her thumb on his chin, feeling the unshaved bristles, her fingers on his cheeks. He looked younger than usual, the lines of care and worry gone from his eyes. “I didn’t think you were real,” she whispered, watching his eyes as they softened.
He moved his head slightly and bit the tip of her finger. “I am very real. It’s you who seem to be a dream.”
She smiled wickedly at him. “Then we are well pleased with our dreams, aren’t we?”
He laughed as he put his arms around her roughly and rubbed his cheek on the tender flesh of her neck, delighting in her squeals of protest as his whiskers threatened to remove her skin. “Judith, sweet Judith,” he whispered as he nibbled her earlobe. “You are always a wonder to me. I don’t know if I please you or not.”
“And would it matter so much if you did not?”
He drew back from her and touched her temple. “Yes, I think it would matter.”
“My lady!”
They both looked up as Joan burst into the room.
“A thousand pardons, my lady,” Joan said, sniggering. “I didn’t know you were so well occupied, but the hour grows late and there are many who call for you.”
“Tell them to wait,” Gavin said heatedly as he held Judith tightly as she tried to push him away.
“No!” Judith said. “Joan, who summons me?”
“The priest asks if you wish to begin the day without mass. Lord Gavin’s man, John Bassett, says some horses from Chestershire have arrived. And there are three cloth merchants who want to have their wares inspected.”
Gavin stiffened and released his wife. “Tell the priest we will be there and I will see the horses after mass. And tell the merchants—” he stopped, disgusted. Am I master of this house or not? he demanded of himself.
Judith put her hand on his arm. “Tell the merchants to store their wares and attend mass with us. I will see them after mass.”
“Well?” Gavin asked the skinny maid. “You’ve been told what to do. Now go.”
Joan hugged the door to her back. “I must help my lady dress.”
Gavin began to smile. “I will do that. Perhaps I’ll find some pleasure in this day besides duty.”
Joan smirked at her mistress before she slinked around the door and closed it.
“Now, my lady,” Gavin said as he turned back to his wife. “I am yours to command.”
Judith’s eyes sparkled. “Even if it concerns the matter of your horses?”
He groaned in mock agony. “It was a silly quarrel, wasn’t it? I was angry at the rain more than at you.”
“And why should the rain have made you angry?” she teased.
He leaned back over her. “It kept me from a sport I much desired.”
She put her hand on his chest, felt his heart hammering. “Do you forget the priest waits?”
He leaned back. “Come, then, up with you and let’s see to your dressing. If I can’t taste, I may at least look my fill.”
Judith gazed into his eyes for a moment. It had been nearly two weeks since he’d made love to her. Maybe he had left her right after their marriage to go to his mistress. But Judith realized that Gavin was hers right now, and she would make the most of that possession. Many people told her she was beautiful, but she usually dismissed them as flatterers. She knew her curved body was quite different from the thin one of Alice Valence. But once Gavin had desired her body. She wondered if she could make those eyes darken from gray to black.
She slowly pulled an edge of the coverlet back and stuck out one bare foot, then drew the coverlet to mid-thigh. She flexed both feet. “I think my ankle has quite recovered, don’t you?” She smiled up at him innocently, but he wasn’t looking at her face.
Very slowly, she moved the coverlet away from her firm, round hip, then exposed her navel, her flat stomach. She slipped slowly out of the bed and stood before him in the early morning light.
Gavin stared at her. He hadn’t seen her nude in weeks. She had long, slim legs, round hips, a tiny waist and full rosy-tipped breasts.
“Damn the priest!” Gavin muttered as he held out a hand to touch the curve of her hip.
“Do not blaspheme, my lord,” Judith said seriously. Gavin looked up at her in surprise.
“It’s always a wonder to me that you wished to hide all that under the guise of a nun.” Gavin sighed heavily as he looked at her, his palms aching with the desire to touch her. “Be a good girl and fetch your clothes. I cannot bear this sweet torture any longer. Another moment, and I would rape you before the priest’s very eyes.”
Judith turned to her clothes chest and hid her smile. Would it be rape, she wondered.
She took her time dressing, enjoying his eyes upon her and his strained silence. She slipped on a thin cotton chemise embroidered with tiny bl
ue unicorns. It barely reached to mid-thigh. Matching drawers came next. Then she put her leg up on the edge of the bench where Gavin sat stonily, and carefully pulled the silk stockings over her legs, held in place by garters.
She reached across him for her dress of rich, brown cashmere from Venice. Silver lions were embroidered down the front and along the hem. Gavin’s hands trembled as he fastened the buttons down the back. A silver filigree belt completed the costume, but Judith could not seem to manage the simple buckle by herself.
“Done,” she said after a long time of struggling with the uncooperative garments.
Gavin let out his long-held breath.
“You make an excellent maid,” she laughed, whirling about in a sea of brown and silver.
“No,” Gavin said honestly. “I would die in less than a week. Now come below with me and don’t tease me anymore.”
“Yes, my lord,” Judith said obediently, her eyes twinkling.
Within the inner bailey was a long field with a heavy carpet of sand. Here the Montgomery men and their chief vassals trained. A straw dummy swung from a gibbet which the men made sword passes at as they rode their war horses. A ring attached between two poles was the object of more passes with both sword and lance. There was also a man who was slashing at a four-inch post buried deeply in the ground by using a two-handed grip on his sword.
Gavin sat down heavily on a bench at the edge of the training ground. He took off his helmet and ran his hand through his sweat-dampened hair. His eyes were sunken into dark pits, his cheeks drawn, his shoulders aching with weariness. It had been four days since that morning he’d helped Judith dress. During that time he’d slept very little, ate even less, so that now his senses were taut.
He leaned his head back against the stone wall and thought that there was little more that could have happened. Several serfs’ cottages had caught fire, and the wind had sent sparks into the dairy. He and his men had fought the fire for two days, sleeping on the ground where they fell. One night he’d spent in the stables with a mare that delivered a colt by breech birth. Judith stayed with him throughout the night, holding the horse’s head, handing Gavin cloths and ointments before he knew he needed them. Never had he felt so close to anyone as he had then. At dawn, with a feeling of triumph, they stood together and watched the little colt take its first shaky steps.
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