Lord Tristram’s Love Match: Her Stern Husband Book Three

by R. R. Vane

  Tristram suddenly halted her. “My lady wife has been finally chastened, as you can well perceive, and she has learnt true repentance for her deeds,” Tristram said in a high, grim voice. “And she is now forgiven. Because it’s Christian to forgive,” he added, giving a pointed look in his cousin’s direction.

  And Judith saw Tristram’s cousin cast an assessing look at her teary face and at the way she held herself.

  “Aye,” the prelate reluctantly said after a long while. “At last she looks repentant.”

  Tristram spoke to him with a mirthless smile, “Good. You have spoken the words in front of all to hear. And now I want you gone. And give your news to Henry and the Church. I have fulfilled my vow.”

  “You have also vowed to make sure she would never defy you again!” Tristram’s cousin countered.

  “She is still called Lady de Brunne, and you should strive not to forget! I will make sure she won’t either. Just as I vowed. And now you are to go from Redmore,” Tristram said in the same hard, grim voice he’d employed earlier.

  “Tomorrow’s fasting day. And I’ve yet to attend Sunday Mass. I shall leave after the Lord’s Day,” his cousin stated coldly.

  “Fine. As long as you are well and truly gone, and I never set eyes upon you again. FitzRolf will accompany you. He’s in a hurry to rejoin his own wife,” Tristram said just as coldly.

  He then took hold of Judith’s arm and led her up the stairs. She followed him without protest, still stunned and musing upon the words which had been spoken. When they went back to her bedchamber, she attempted to sit down, but she found that the sting in her bottom was too fierce.

  “Lie on your belly,” Tristram said, and his voice sounded warm and gentle.

  Again, she obeyed him, beginning to recall what he’d said to his cousin. Tristram went to fetch something from his trunk. She cast a worried look over her shoulder when he bent over her, hoisting her skirts to bare her bottom.

  “You…”

  Her heart started thumping in alarm, because perchance he meant to spank her again.

  “Shush,” Tristram said and his voice sounded warm and caring. “It’s just a salve. I promise it is soothing.”

  He started rubbing a thick sort of ointment onto her bottom, and Judith began to experience that shameful, maddening sensation in her quim, because her behind felt sore under his touch, yet at the same time the cold salve felt like a blissful balm upon her skin. She sighed in sheer regret when he was done, and felt a renewed soreness in her rear when he attempted to cover it with her skirts.

  “Off then?” he asked ever so gently, hoisting her skirts again after he’d perceived she was in pain.

  She nodded and felt grateful for the cool air upon her heated bottom.

  “You will feel better in the morning. The sting will fade,” Tristram said in a voice which, to Judith’s surprise, sounded somewhat remorseful.

  And she recalled the look of dark triumph upon his cousin’s gaunt face when Tristram had brought her down to the Hall, and she also recalled how the prelate had always goaded Tristram to punish her. And give your news to Henry and the Church. She plainly recalled Tristram’s cousin telling him she should have been forced to take the veil. In spite of this, Tristram had allowed her to remain in her home. At the time, she’d thought he meant to have his revenge upon her. But now she plainly recalled Tristram had not even let her utter the humbling words of repentance in front of all to hear. Instead he’d spoken them himself, in a challenging voice, daring his cousin to disprove his words. And he’d used the birch but very sparingly upon her, although he could have delivered a savage punishment with it which would have made her cower in front of him. Yet, in truth, he hadn’t. He’d spanked her soundly, but the punishment had been bearable. Harsh, but not one to inflict numbing, mindless pain upon her.

  Judith stared at her husband in sudden understanding. Oh, but she’d been so foolish! And she recalled Lord FitzRolf’s words, urging her to see Tristram was not vain, not cruel and not petty.

  “You punished me because they asked it of you, if I was to stay your wife. They made you vow it,” she muttered, berating herself for not understanding sooner he’d meant to shield rather than harm her.

  He only shrugged, choosing not to answer.

  “Just go to sleep. The punishment is done and over with. And you’ve no more to fear from me, I vow.”

  She’d spurned this man. And she’d humiliated him by seeking an annulment of their marriage contract. Yet, instead of seeking his revenge, he’d thought to aid her. Judith blushed fiercely, berating herself for having misjudged Tristram so. He may not have kept faith with her during their marriage, but he preserved his knightly honour. And he’d thought to protect a woman who was still his wife, rather than drive her from her home and see her harshly punished by the King and the Church. Tears spurted in her eyes. And through the haze of these tears, she saw Tristram cast her a look of sheer compassion and regret.

  “Don’t cry. It’s done and over with. I promise,” he repeated in a heart-breaking voice.

  Judith found she no longer cared for the fierce sting in her bottom as she turned and sat up, reaching for her husband.

  “Tristram, will you hold me now? Please?” she asked in a pleading voice.

  She no longer cared how pleading she sounded. What she wanted now was simply for her husband to hold her. And she understood that, even in the year she’d thought their marriage over, she’d always thought Tristram her husband.

  And Tristram held her, just as she’d asked him, and she revelled in the deep, delicious warmth of his embrace.

  “Kiss me, please,” she urged him, in the same entreating voice.

  He lowered his lips to hers, but still he hesitated, and Judith found herself capturing his lips with hers in a hungry kiss. For so long she’d dreamt of his kisses.

  Soon kissing turned to tender, lingering caresses, and Judith luxuriated in them because it was, in truth, the first time since their reconciliation that Tristram was kissing her. And it was the very first time their coupling was tender and sweet rather than ardent and frenzied.

  Later, Judith lay sated upon her belly, watching her husband through the same avid, lovesick eyes with which she’d always looked upon him. Yet she saw that while he’d undressed her during their lovemaking, the undertunic he’d worn all day had stayed in place.

  “Will you not undress for bed?” she asked lazily, thinking that, perchance, she might persuade him to love her again after they were both naked.

  He shook his head, and stared away from her.

  “Nay. I am weary,” he told her tersely.

  She sighed, understanding he was still cross with her for wanting to end their marriage. And she felt cross with herself, although she knew that at the time she’d felt she’d had no other choice. Yet they were still bound in spite of her actions, and she still loved him. And he… Tristram may not ever grow to love her, but he had protected her and kept her on as his wife, instead of taking his revenge. So he was not as unfeeling towards her as she’d thought him. Judith resolved she would settle for this for all times – because she understood she could no longer bring herself to ever part from him, no matter how little regard he now had for her.

  She looked at him with full love in her eyes, deciding once and for all not to care she was not loved in return. She brushed a kiss upon his lips, and held both his hands towards her, marvelling how graceful and long-fingered they were. He frowned at her in puzzlement, but didn’t push her away, as she began to look upon his hands closely. One hand was still reddened from the spanking he’d given her, yet now she understood why he’d done it and how he’d strived to spare her from what must have been much worse.

  She kissed both his hands, then noted something she’d never perceived before about Tristram.

  “The little finger of your right hand… It’s slightly longer than the little finger of your left. See?” she said, feeling silly, yet very happy at what she’d uttered.

>   He shook his head in sheer puzzlement.

  “What?”

  “You’re flawed – truly flawed! I never thought it when I first met you! But you are. Flawed just like the rest of us! Not flawless! Not a dream come true! I see it now. And I am happy,” Judith said with a bright smile.

  Tristram looked at his wife in some alarm, because he hadn’t meant to spank her very hard, but it seemed the spanking was making her act strangely. Before, she’d been defiant of him, yet now she was sweet, just as the Judith he’d first fallen in love with. He suppressed a smile, suddenly understanding he still loved the old, sweet Judith just as much as he now loved the new, defiant one. It was a thing he could not help, no matter how hard he’d been trying to tell himself he no longer cared for her. However, he was still blazingly angry for how she’d behaved. And even if he felt sorry for having had to humble his wife in front of her people, and for bestowing upon her a harsher spanking than he’d ever wished, he still could not bring himself to forget she’d coldly spurned him.

  “Just go to sleep now, wife,” he ordered, making his voice stern.

  Yet he could not sleep, knowing he had a grim day of punishment of his own ahead tomorrow, and not failing to recall how it had been between him and Judith and how he’d never understood why she’d come to part from him.

  Chapter 15

  Two years ago, 1172

  Tristram had had enough of Redmore, and he’d already begun to long for his own home, warmer and with more comfort than this northern castle. He’d strived to see Redmore through Judith’s eyes, but he had failed. And it did not help that Judith behaved differently towards him than he’d envisaged. The first day after his arrival, she’d professed she had pressing business and she had avoided him. Tristram had told himself she was upset by the discourteous way he’d behaved towards her on the stairs, and he had berated himself for his barely governed lust. He’d refrained from touching her ever since, trying to engage her in talk and laughter, and telling himself that once she saw he did not mean to treat her like an unfeeling lout, she was bound to forgive him for the crude, artless caresses he’d bestowed upon her on the day of his arrival. Yet, in spite of all his efforts to behave courteously, Judith was cold to him, and had taken to coming to bed long after he did. Tristram began to understand she was truly angered by what he’d done. So he’d tried to have an earnest talk with her.

  “Judith, the day of my arrival. On the stairs. I behaved wretchedly. I see only too well I’ve angered you, and for that I wish to–”

  Judith had cut him off with a bright smile.

  “Nay, you have nothing to reproach yourself for, my lord. You’ve always been considerate and kind to me. It’s just that Redmore takes so much of my time now! I am weary.”

  Tristram had nodded, but he’d seen the look in her eyes. It was sad and forlorn. But perchance Judith was right, and she worried much over Redmore. He’d seen how hard she toiled every day to oversee her home and learn things she hadn’t known before, and he’d attempted to aid her in some of her duties. Yet he’d found most of the people in the castle spoke the English of the North and he had trouble keeping up with them. Nevertheless he was now striving to learn this new and different English, and he felt confident he’d soon overcome this obstacle. He’d tried to get Judith to teach him, thinking this would help regain the bond they’d shared before they’d parted, but Judith had claimed to be too tired or too busy to teach him her way of speaking.

  He sighed, beginning to think there was an easy way out of their conundrum. He loved his own home and he was needed there. And he could not see why Judith could not join him there. She was his wife, and from now on they belonged together. He didn’t wish to ever part from her for as long as he had. Certainly, he would go away whenever he was summoned by his liege, but once both he and Judith resided at Devensey, which was far closer to London and the Court, their life would become easier. And Judith would find it less arduous to oversee his demesne, rather than be burdened with the care of stark Redmore. Sir Roderick and his capable wife would get more aid in overseeing things at Redmore, as he and Judith could appoint several of their vassals to come to help manage it. As for Lady Fenice, she could certainly join them in their new home, and he believed the warmer, gentler climate of his home and the increased comfort would improve the good lady’s health. He liked the lady Fenice because she reminded him of the wise, tender mother he’d lost, and he would never dream of having Judith part from her.

  “I have been thinking,” he said cautiously one day, when he’d finally been able to persuade Judith to take a walk with him upon the hills. “If Redmore is such a burden to you, perchance you might consider joining me at Devensey.”

  He brightened when he thought of his home, and began to understand this might be the change Judith needed in order to become his wife in truth. She would learn to know him better by getting to know his childhood home, and thus begin to see he truly cared for her. Perchance she’d learn to love him.

  Judith frowned at him.

  “You wish me to leave my home?”

  Tristram understood he may have erred in telling her of this so soon.

  “Not now. Think upon it. I cannot stay forever at Redmore,” he told her.

  “You’ve been here for but two weeks,” Judith countered, and for the first time since he’d known her, that sweet voice of hers sounded sharp.

  He sighed.

  “Aye, and I shall stay longer, yet we need to speak of this. Devensey is my true home.”

  “And Redmore is mine,” she countered in the same sharp voice as before.

  “You are my wife now. And…” he said in a placating voice.

  Judith cut him off. “I expect the next thing you’ll say is that I am bound to obey you in every way and follow you wherever you go,” she flung at him and her voice sounded even sharper.

  Tristram suddenly felt at the end of his tether. And he didn’t fail to recall the cold way she’d behaved towards him and how she’d rebuffed his attempts to mend things.

  “You are indeed my wife now,” he said in a voice which must have sounded high and angry. “And, aye, as my wife it is your duty to be by my side!”

  “What of yours?” Judith countered.

  He frowned at her, not understanding what she meant. Certainly, he had his own duties towards her just as she had hers towards him. Why was she bringing this up now as if he’d done a grievous thing? He had already begged her forgiveness for how he’d behaved, and it now seemed to him she was making far too much of his mistake. They were married after all. And he had not pressed her to share his bed, although, he knew only too well, most men of his acquaintance would not have cared to behave as courteously as he had.

  He sighed, because, in truth, those men he thought about were the very same men, who, as boys, had called his friend Bertran a bastard and Tristram himself a weakling. And he should never strive to compare himself to them.

  “What is it that you wish from me?” he asked his wife in plain weariness. “I do not understand you. I do not know what you expect me to say or do. We’re married now. You seemed to like being by my side before. And now you shun me. We have a life ahead to share. It seems to me we should be able to speak plainly.”

  Judith looked at him and opened her mouth to speak, yet she then shook her head. Soon a look of longing and regret appeared upon her face. She sighed with a rueful smile and touched his shoulder gently.

  “Forgive me. I-it’s silly. We’ve been so long apart. I thought… Oh, never mind what I thought! I suppose I was afraid you’d downright forgotten me. While I-I thought only of you!”

  Her voice was just as sweet as he recalled it, and his heart thumped fiercely in his chest. He kissed her tenderly, mindful of not being as ardent as he’d been with her before, but soon coming to understand Judith was not averse to being touched more ardently. She pressed herself against him in undisguised passion, and Tristram came to understand she had not deceived him and that it hadn’t been his
eager caresses which had made her upset.

  “I also thought of you!” he told her, loath to break the kiss. “We’re in agreement then. So why was it we argued?”

  Judith heaved a deep sigh, pressing herself even more tightly against him, and causing Tristram to hardly wait for the time to seek their bedchamber.

  “I wasn’t behaving like a good wife should. You’re right. I should join you at Devensey. But Tristram, my mother may not ever be able to leave Redmore! Besides, it’s always been my home. That was why I spoke to you so sharply. It’s hard for me to envisage myself in another home. Yet you are right. We’re married now, and my place is by your side.”

  “Rest assured, I shall never ask you to part from your mother!” Tristram hurried to say. “As for Redmore…”

  He held Judith tight against him, recalling all the stories she’d told him of her home in the first days of their marriage. Beautiful stories, which had seemed like fairy tales to him. The way Judith had always spoken of Redmore, it seemed she loved it deeply, perchance even more deeply than he loved Devensey.

  “Perhaps,” he said, now fully brightening, “we might also find ourselves in agreement upon this. You needn’t leave your beloved home for all times. What if we both spent every other year at Redmore and every other year at Devensey? Both are fine demesnes, and perchance things would be better because we’d get to properly oversee both homes in turn.”

  Judith beamed at him, and she suddenly looked so relieved that he felt the need to caution her, “Have a care though. While I am needed at Court or on the battlefield, it will come only upon you to bear the burden of both our homes. Still, I hope in time things would be less tempestuous at Henry’s court. I am weary of it and do not seek vain glory on the battlefield.”

  “Henry’s still feuding against his queen and sons?” Judith asked with a sudden frown.