The Velvet Promise
Page 28
“You are perfect. Now come and let the king look at you.”
Judith tried to still her beating heart at the idea of meeting the king of England. She didn’t know what she expected, but the rather ordinary great hall was not it. Men and women sat about, playing chess and other games. Three women sat on stools at the feet of a handsome man who played a psaltery. Nowhere did she see any man who could be King Henry.
Judith was astonished when Gavin stopped before a plain middle-aged man with small blue eyes and thin white hair. He looked very tired.
Judith recovered herself and quickly curtsied.
King Henry took her hand.
“Come to the light and let me look at you. I have heard much of your beauty.” He led her away, towering over her, for he was six feet tall. “You are as pretty as I have heard. Come here, Bess,” King Henry said, “and see the Lady Judith, Gavin’s new bride.”
Judith turned and saw a pretty middle-aged woman behind her. She had been surprised that Henry was the king, but there was no doubt that this woman was queen. She was a regal woman, so sure of herself, that she could be kind and generous. Her eyes held welcome for Judith. “Your Majesty,” Judith said and curtsied.
Elizabeth held out her hand. “Countess,” the queen said. “I’m so glad you could come to stay with us for a while. Have I said something amiss?”
Judith smiled at the woman’s sensitivity. “I haven’t been called ‘countess’ before. It has been such a short time since my father’s death.”
“Yes, that was tragic, wasn’t it? And the man who did the deed?”
“He is dead,” Judith said firmly, remembering too well the feel of the sword sinking into Walter’s spine.
“Come, you must be tired after your journey.”
“No. I’m not.”
Elizabeth smiled fondly. “Then perhaps you would like to come to my chambers for some wine.”
“Yes, Your Majesty, I would.”
“You will excuse me, Henry?”
Judith suddenly realized she had turned her back on the king. She turned, her cheeks flushed pink.
“Don’t mind me, child,” Henry said in a distracted manner. “I am sure Bess will put you to work on the wedding plans for our oldest son, Arthur.”
Judith smiled and curtsied to him before she followed the queen up the wide stairs to the solar above.
Chapter Twenty-Four
ALICE SAT ON A STOOL BEFORE A MIRROR IN A LARGE ROOM on the top floor of the palace. All around her were a profusion of bright colors. There were purple and green satins, scarlet taffetas, orange brocades. Each cloth, each garment had been chosen as an instrument to call attention to herself. She had seen Judith Revedoune’s gowns at her wedding and Alice knew that the heiress’s taste ran to simple colors of lush, finely woven fabrics. Alice meant to draw attention away from Gavin’s wife with her brilliant clothes.
She wore an undertunic of pale rose, the arms embroidered with black braid swirling round and round. Her crimson velvet dress was cut in deep scallops at the hem and the skirt was appliquéd with enormous wildflowers of every known color. The capelet about her shoulders was her pride. It was of Italian brocade, and in the fabric were colored animals, each one as large as a man’s hand, woven in green, purple, orange and black. She was sure no one would outshine her today.
And it was very important that Alice draw attention to herself today because she was to see Gavin again. She smiled at herself in the mirror. She knew she needed Gavin’s love after that awful time she’d spent with Edmund. Now that she was a widow, she could look back on Edmund almost fondly. Of course, the poor man was only jealous.
“Look at this circlet!” Alice suddenly commanded her maid, Ela. “Do you think that blue stone matches my eyes? Or is it too light?” Angrily, she snatched the golden circle from her head. “Damn that goldsmith! He must have used his feet to do such clumsy work.”
Ela took the headdress from her angry mistress. “The goldsmith is the king’s own, the best in all of England, and the circlet is the most beautiful one he has ever created,” Ela soothed. “Of course the stone looks light—no stone could match the rich color of your eyes.”
Alice looked back at the mirror and began to quiet. “Do you truly think so?”
“Yes,” Ela answered honestly. “No woman could rival your beauty.”
“Not even that Revedoune bitch?” Alice demanded, refusing to use Judith’s married name.
“Most assuredly. My lady, you don’t plan something…that goes against the church, do you?”
“How could what I do to her be against the church? Gavin was mine before she took him, and he will be mine again!”
Ela knew from experience that it was impossible to reason with Alice once her mind was set on something. “Do you remember that you mourn your husband as she mourns her father?”
Alice laughed. “I imagine we feel the same about those two men. I have heard that her father was even more despicable than my late beloved husband.”
“Don’t speak so of the dead.”
“And don’t you reprimand me, or I will see you go to someone else.” It was a familiar threat—one Ela no longer paid any attention to. The worst punishment Alice could imagine was to deny a person her company.
Alice stood and smoothed her gown. All the colors and textures flashed and competed with one another. “Do you think he will notice me?” she asked breathlessly.
“Who could not?”
“Yes,” Alice agreed. “Who could not?”
Judith stood silently by her husband’s side, overawed by the king’s many guests. Gavin seemed at ease with them all, a man respected, his word valued. It was good to see him in another setting besides a highly personal one. For all their quarrels and disputes, he took care of her, protected her. He knew she was not used to crowds, so he kept her close to him, not forcing her to go to the women, where she would be among strangers. He took much ribbing about this but he smiled good-naturedly with no embarrassment, as most men would have shown.
The long trestle tables were being set for supper, the troubadors organizing their musicians, the jongleurs, the acrobats rehearsing their stunts.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Gavin asked, smiling down at her.
“Yes. It’s all so noisy and active, though.”
He laughed. “It will get worse. Let me know if you get tired, and we’ll leave.”
“You don’t mind that I stay so near you?”
“I would mind if you didn’t. I wouldn’t like you to be free amid these people. Too many young men—and old men, for that matter—look at you.”
“They do?” Judith asked innocently. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Judith, don’t tease these men. The morals at court are very loose, and I wouldn’t like for you to be trapped in some web of your own innocent making. Stay by me or Stephen. Don’t venture too far away alone. Unless”—his eyes hardened in memory of Walter Demari,—“you wish to encourage someone.”
She started to speak, to tell him what she thought of his insinuations, but an earl of somewhere—she could never keep them straight—came to talk to Gavin. “I will go to Stephen,” she said and walked along the edge of the enormous room to where her brother-in-law leaned against the tapestried wall.
He, like Gavin, was dressed in a rich garment of dark wool, Stephen’s brown, Gavin’s gray. The form-fitting doublets were also of finely woven dark wool. Judith couldn’t help but feel a shiver of pride at being associated with such magnificent men.
Judith noticed a pretty, freckle-faced young woman with a turned-up nose who kept looking at Stephen from around her father’s back. “She seems to like you,” Judith said.
Stephen didn’t look up. “Yes,” he said dejectedly. “But my days are numbered, aren’t they? A few weeks from now, and I’ll have a bit of brown woman on my arm, screeching at my every movement.”
“Stephen!” Judith laughed. “She surely couldn’t be as bad as you think she is. No woman co
uld be. Look at me. Gavin hadn’t seen me before our marriage. Do you think he also worried that I was ugly?”
He looked down at her. “You don’t know how much I envy my brother. You are not only beautiful, but wise and kind as well. Gavin is the most fortunate of men.”
Judith felt her cheeks turning pink. “You flatter me, but I like to hear it.”
“I am no flatterer,” Stephen said bluntly.
Suddenly the congenial atmosphere in the hall changed, and both Stephen and Judith looked toward the people around them, feeling that some of the tension was directed toward them. Many people looked at Judith—some in apprehension, some smiling snidely, others in bewilderment—not understanding what the current carried.
“Judith,” Stephen said, “have you seen the garden? Queen Elizabeth has some beautiful lilies, and her roses are magnificent.”
Judith frowned at him, knowing he wanted her out of the hall for some reason. Several people moved aside and she saw the reason for the tension. Alice Chatworth walked regally into the hall, her head high, a smile of great warmth on her face. And the smile was for one person alone—Gavin.
Judith stared at Alice, her gown seeming gaudy and ill-matched. Alice’s pale skin, her obviously artificially darkened eyes did not seem at all beautiful to Judith.
The crowd grew quieter as the “secret” of Alice and Gavin was whispered from one person to the next. Judith turned from the woman to look at her husband. Gavin regarded Alice with an intensity that was almost tangible. His eyes were mesmerized by hers, and nothing seemed likely to break the contact. He watched her make her way slowly toward him and when she was close, she held out her hand. He took it and kissed it lingeringly.
The king’s laughter was heard above the small sounds of the hall. “You two seem to know each other.”
“We do,” Gavin answered, smiling slowly.
“Most assuredly,” Alice answered, giving him a demure, closed-lip smile.
“I think I should like to see the garden now,” Judith said quickly and took Stephen’s extended arm.
“Judith,” Stephen began when they were alone in the lovely garden.
“Don’t speak to me of her. There is nothing you can say that will give me comfort. I have always known of her. Since the day of our wedding.” She looked down at a rose bush, the air heavy with fragrance. “He has never been false to me on her account. He hasn’t hidden from me that he loves her or tried to pretend he cares for me in any way.”
“Judith, stop this! You can’t accept the woman.”
Judith turned to Stephen. “And what else can I do? Pray tell me what. He believes me wicked at every turn. If I go to him when he is held captive, he believes I go to my lover. If I carry his child, he believes it belongs to another.”
“The child is Gavin’s?”
“I see he has told you that he thinks that my baby is Demari’s”
“Why don’t you tell him the truth?”
“And have him call me a liar? No, thank you. This child is mine, regardless of the father.”
“Judith, it would mean a lot to Gavin to know the child was his.”
“Will you run and tell him?” she asked heatedly. “Will you knock his mistress down to get close to him? The news will make him quite happy, I’m sure. He has the Revedoune lands, an heir on the way, and his blonde Alice to love. Forgive me if I am selfish enough to want to keep some small thing for myself for a while.”
Stephen sat on a stone bench and stared at her. He knew better than to confront his elder brother at this moment when he was so angry. A woman like Judith didn’t deserve such neglect and ill treatment as Gavin heaped upon her.
“My lady,” a woman called.
“Here, Joan,” Judith answered. “What is it?”
“The tables are set for supper and you must come.”
“No, I will not. Please say that I am indisposed. Plead my condition as the cause.”
“And let that whore have him!” Joan screeched. “You must attend.”
“I agree, Judith.”
Joan whirled, not previously aware of Stephen’s presence. She flushed becomingly. She never quite got over the striking handsomeness of the men in her mistress’s new family. Even the way they moved set her to trembling with desire.
“Do you plan to attack him here?” Judith demanded. “You forget yourself at times, Joan.”
“It’s the man who makes me do so,” the maid murmured. “Lord Gavin has asked for you.”
“I’m pleased he remembers me,” she said sarcastically.
“Yes, I remembered you,” Gavin said from the gateway. “Go,” he said to the maid. “I would like to speak to my wife alone.”
Stephen stood. “I too will go.” He gave his brother one hard look, then left.
“I don’t feel well,” Judith said. “I must go to my room.”
Gavin caught her arm and drew her close to him. Her eyes looked at him coldly. How long had it been since she’d looked at him like that! “Judith, don’t hate me again.”
She tried to twist away from him. “You humiliate me, and I’m not to show anger? I didn’t know you thought I was a saint. Perhaps I should make an application for canonization.”
He chuckled at her sharp wit. “I did nothing but look at her and kiss her hand. I haven’t seen her for a while.”
Judith sneered at him. “Look at her!” she spat. “The rushes were nearly set on fire.”
He looked down at his wife in wonder. “Are you jealous?” he asked quietly.
“Of that blonde who lusts for my husband? No! I would find a worthier candidate if I were to feel jealousy.”
Gavin’s eyes flared for a moment. He had never before allowed anyone to say anything against Alice. “Your anger says you lie.”
“Anger!” she said, then quieted. “Yes, I am angry because you display your passion for everyone to see. You have embarrassed me before the king. Didn’t you see how the people stared and whispered?” She wanted to hurt him. “As for jealousy, one must love another for that emotion to occur.”
“And you bear me no love?” he asked coldly.
“I have never said so, have I?” She couldn’t read his expression. She didn’t know whether she hurt Gavin or not; but even if she had, her cruel words gave her no pleasure.
“Come, then,” he said, taking her arm. “The king waits supper for us, and you will not insult him with your absence. If it is indeed your wish to stop the gossip, you must play the loving wife.”
Judith followed him docilely, her rage strangely gone.
As newly arrived guests and ones to be especially honored, Gavin and Judith were seated by the king and queen; Judith to the king’s right, Gavin to the queen’s left and beside Gavin, Alice.
“You seem distraught,” King Henry said to Judith.
She smiled. “No, it’s only the journey and the child that weary me.”
“A child, so soon? I’m sure Lord Gavin is especially pleased with that.”
She smiled but could give no answer.
“Gavin,” Alice said softly so no other ears would hear her words, “it has been so long since I’ve seen you.” She was cautious with him, for she sensed things had changed between them. He had obviously not forgotten his love for her or he couldn’t have looked at her as he had earlier. But he had only just finished kissing her hand when his eyes drew away from her and searched the hall. They settled when he saw his wife’s retreating back. Moments later, he had deserted Alice and followed Judith.
“My condolences on your husband’s early demise,” Gavin said coldly.
“You will think I’m heartless, but I grieve very little for the man,” Alice murmured sadly. “He was…unkind to me.”
Gavin looked at her sharply. “But wasn’t he your choice?”
“How can you say that? I was forced into the marriage. Oh Gavin, if you had only waited, we could have been together now. But I’m sure the king would allow us to marry.” She put her hand on his arm.
“The king is a sympathetic man. He would listen. Your marriage could be annulled.”
Gavin turned back to his food. “Don’t speak to me of annulment. I have heard the word enough to last me a lifetime. She carries a child. Even the king wouldn’t dissolve such a marriage.” Gavin gave his attention to the queen and began asking questions about the forthcoming marriage of Prince Arthur to the Spanish Catherine.
Alice sat quietly, thinking of Gavin’s words. She meant to find out why he was sick of the word “annulment” and why he referred to his wife’s baby as “a child”—almost as if he hadn’t fathered it.
An hour later, the tables were cleared and stacked against the wall, making room for any who cared to dance. “Would you dance with me?” Gavin asked his wife.
“Should I ask permission?” she asked, looking at Alice where she sat amid several young male admirers.
Gavin’s fingers bit into Judith’s arm. “You are unfair to me. I didn’t arrange the seating for supper. I’m doing all in my power to pacify you, but there are some things I cannot control.”
Maybe I am unreasonable, she thought. “Yes, I will dance with you.”
“Or perhaps a walk in the garden,” he smiled. “It’s a warm night.”
She hesitated.
“Come with me, Judith.” They had no more stepped through the gate when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hungrily. She clung to him desperately. “My sweet Judith,” he whispered. “I don’t know that I can bear any more of your anger. It hurts me deeply when you look at me with hatred.”
She melted against him. It was the closest he’d ever come to saying he cared for her. Could she trust him, believe in him?
“Come upstairs with me. Let’s go to bed, and don’t let us quarrel again.”