The Velvet Promise Read online

  “I don’t understand how life in a nunnery could prepare you for what you’ve done here. I would have thought you spent your days in prayer.”

  She smiled down at him as he sat in the gravel path beside her. It was getting lighter now, the sky beginning to turn a rosy pink. She could hear the clatter of the servants in the distance. “Most men feel that the worst thing that could happen to a woman would be to deprive them of a man’s company. I assure you that a nun’s life is far from empty. Look at St. Anne’s. Who do you think runs those estates?”

  “I never thought about it.”

  “The prioress manages estates that make the king’s look poor. Yours and mine together could fit into a corner of St. Anne’s. My mother took me to meet the prioress last year. I spent a week at her side. She is a constantly busy woman ordering the work of thousands of men and acres of land. She does not”—Judith’s eyes sparkled—“have time for woman’s work.”

  Gavin was startled for a moment then he began to laugh. “A thrust well delivered.” What had Raine said about her sense of humor? “I stand corrected.”

  “I’d think you’d know more about a nunnery since your sister lives there.”

  A special glow came over Gavin’s face when his sister was mentioned. He smiled. “I cannot imagine Mary running anyone’s estates. Even as a child, she was so sweet and shy that she seemed of another world.”

  “And so you let her enter a convent.”

  “It was her wish, and when I inherited from my father, she left us. I wanted her to remain here and not marry if she didn’t want to, but she wanted to be near the sisters.”

  Gavin stared at his wife, thinking that she had come very close to spending her life in a convent. The sunlight caught fire in her auburn hair; the way she looked at him, without anger or hatred, made his breath catch.

  “Ow!” Judith broke the spell as she looked down at her finger, nicked on a rose thorn.

  “Let me see,” Gavin said as he took her small hand in his larger one. He brushed away a drop of blood from her fingertip then raised it to his lips, as he looked into her eyes.

  “Good morning!”

  Both of them looked up at the window above the garden.

  “I hate to disturb your lovemaking,” Raine called down from the manor house, “but my men seem to have forgotten me. And with this damned leg, I am little more than a prisoner.”

  Judith pulled her hand from Gavin’s and looked away, her cheeks, for some reason, flushing.

  “I will go and help him,” Gavin said as he stood. “Raine says he is leaving today. Maybe I can hurry him along. Will you ride with me this morning to choose a mare?”

  She nodded her head but didn’t look at him before he left the garden.

  “I see you’re making some progress with your wife,” Raine said as Gavin roughly helped him down the stairs.

  “It would have been more if someone hadn’t started bellowing out the window,” Gavin remarked bitterly.

  Raine snorted with laughter. His leg hurt and he didn’t look forward to the long journey to another estate, so he was in a bad mood. “You didn’t even spend the night with her.”

  “Of what concern is that to you? Since when do you notice where I sleep?”

  “Since I met Judith.”

  “Raine, if you—”

  “Don’t even say it. Why do you think I am going when my leg hasn’t even begun to heal?”

  Gavin smiled. “She is lovely, isn’t she? In a few days I will have her eating out of my hand; then you’ll see where I sleep. A woman is like a hawk. You must starve it until it is eager for food; then it will be easily tamed.”

  Raine stopped on the stairs, his arm about Gavin’s shoulder. “You are a fool, brother. You may be the biggest fool ever created. Don’t you know that the master is often the servant of his hawk? How many times have you seen men carry their favorite hawk about on their wrists, even in church?”

  “You talk nonsense,” Gavin said, “and I don’t like being called a fool.”

  Raine set his teeth together as Gavin jerked his leg. “Judith is worth two of you and a hundred of that icy bitch you think you love.”

  Gavin stopped at the foot of the steps, gave his brother a malevolent look and moved away so quickly Raine had to grab the wall to keep from falling. “Don’t you speak of Alice again!” Gavin said in a deadly voice.

  “I damned well will speak of her! Someone needs to. She is ruining your life and Judith’s happiness. And Alice isn’t worth a strand of Judith’s hair.”

  Gavin raised his fist then dropped it. “It’s good that you’re leaving today. I won’t listen to anymore about my women from you.” He turned on his heel and stalked away.

  “Your women!” Raine called after him. “One owns your soul and the other you treat with contempt. How can you call them yours?”

  Chapter Eleven

  THERE WERE TEN HORSES INSIDE THE FENCED AREA. EACH one was sleek and strong with long legs that inspired visions of the animals running across flowery fields.

  “I am to choose one, my lord?” Judith asked as she leaned across the fence rail. She looked up at Gavin beside her, watching him suspiciously. All morning he had been exceptionally pleasant; first in the garden, and now as he gave her a gift. He’d helped her on the mount, taken her arm when she, in an unladylike gesture, climbed atop the rails. She could understand his irritation, his scowls, but she was quite leery of this new kindness.

  “Any one that you want,” Gavin answered, smiling at her. “They have all been gentled and are ready for a bridle and saddle. Do you see one you like?”

  She looked back at the horses. “There isn’t one I don’t like. It’s not easy to choose. I think that one, the black one.”

  Gavin smiled at her choice, a mare with a high-stepping, dainty gait. “She is yours,” he said. Then, before he could help her down, Judith was on the ground and through the gate. Within minutes, Gavin’s man had the mare saddled and Judith swung onto her animal’s back.

  It felt wonderful to ride a good horse again. To Judith’s right lay the road to the castle; to her left, the dense forest, a hunting ground for the Montgomeries. Without thought, she took the road to the forest. For too long she had been confined inside walls and jammed between people. The great oaks and beeches looked inviting, their branches connecting overhead to form a private shelter. Judith did not look back to see if she was being followed, but only plunged ahead toward the waiting freedom.

  She rode hard, testing the mare and herself. They were compatible, as she knew they would be. The horse enjoyed the run as much as Judith.

  “Quiet now, sweet one,” Judith whispered when they were well inside the forest. The mare obeyed, daintily picking her way between the trees and bushes. The ground was covered by ferns and hundreds of years of accumulated foliage. It was a soft carpet and a silent one. Judith breathed deeply of the clean, cool air and let her mount decide the way.

  The sound of running water caught Judith’s attention, as well as her mare’s. A stream, deep and cool, ran swiftly between the trees, sunlight playing through the overhanging branches. She dismounted and led her horse to the water. As the mare quietly drank, Judith pulled handfuls of sweet grass and began to rub the sides of the horse. They had galloped hard for several minutes before reaching the forest, and the mare was sweaty.

  Judith was engrossed in her pleasant task, glorying in her horse, the day, the roaring water. The mare perked up her ears and listened, then backed away nervously.

  “Quiet, girl,” Judith said, stroking the soft neck. The horse took another, sharper step backward, threw her head back and neighed. Judith whirled, grabbing at the reins of the frightened animal and missed.

  A wild boar approached, sniffing the air. It was wounded, its tiny eyes glassy with pain. Judith tried again to get the reins of her horse but the boar began its charge and the mare, wild with fear, took off. She grabbed her skirts and began to run. But the charging pig was faster than she. Judith m