The Velvet Promise Read online

  “I have no idea what you mean,” Gavin began, his own temper flaring. “You talk in riddles.”

  “You hint that I am an adulteress. Is that a riddle?”

  “You bear the man’s child. How else can I say it? I have offered to care for the baby. You should be grateful that I don’t cast you aside.”

  Judith stared at him. He didn’t ask if the child was his. He assumed that Walter’s words were the true ones. At her wedding, Judith’s mother had said that a man would believe the lowest-born serf before he believed a woman. It was true. And if Judith denied sleeping with Walter? Would he believe her? There would be no way to prove her words.

  “You have no more to say?” Gavin demanded, tight-lipped.

  Judith glared at him, speechless.

  “Then you agree to my terms?”

  Well, she would play the game his way. “You say you give my child my lands. You sacrifice little.”

  “I keep you! I could set you aside.”

  She laughed. “You could always have done so. Men have that right. You keep me while you desire me. I’m no fool. I would have something more than just an inheritance for my child.”

  “You ask payment?”

  “Yes, for coming to you at the castle.” The words hurt. She was crying inside, but refused to show it.

  “What do you want?”

  “I would have my mother given in marriage to John Bassett.”

  Gavin’s eyes opened wide.

  “You are her nearest male relative now,” Judith pointed out. “You have the right.”

  “John Bassett is—”

  “Don’t tell me. I know too well. But can’t you see how she loves him?”

  “What has love to do with it? There are estates to be considered, properties to be joined.”

  Judith put her hands on his arms, her eyes pleading. “You don’t know what it is to live without love. You have given yours, and I have no chance for it. But my mother has never loved a man as she loves John. It’s in your power to give her what she most needs. I beg you, don’t let your animosity toward me keep you from letting her have some happiness.”

  He stared down at her. She was so beautiful but he saw also a lonely young woman. Had he really been so harsh to her that she needed Walter Demari, if even for a few moments? She said he’d given his love, yet at that moment he couldn’t remember Alice’s face.

  He pulled Judith into his arms. He remembered how frightened she was when she’d been treed by the boar. So little courage—yet she’d confronted an enemy, as if she alone could slay dragons.

  “I don’t hate you,” he whispered, holding her close, his face buried in her hair. Raine once asked what was wrong with her, and now Gavin asked himself that question. If she did carry another man’s infant, wasn’t it his fault for leaving her unprotected? In all their marriage, Gavin could remember being kind to her only once. The day they had spent together in the woods. Now his conscience hurt him. He’d planned that day only to woo her back to his bed. He thought only of himself and not of her. He bent and put his hand under her knees. He sat down on the sweet-smelling grass, his back against a tree and held her curled in his arms. “Tell me what happened at the castle,” he said gently.

  She didn’t trust him. Always, when she trusted him, he flung her words back in her face. But his body felt good to her. This feeling is all we share, Judith thought. Only lust exists between us. Not love or understanding—or, least of all, trust.

  Judith shrugged, refusing to reveal anything to him. Her lips were so close to his neck. “It’s over now. It is better forgotten.”

  Gavin frowned, wanting to press her to talk to him but her nearness was more than he could bear. “Judith,” he whispered as his mouth came down on hers.

  Her arms went about his neck and drew him closer, her mind going blank at the touch of him. Forgotten were any ideas of understanding and trust.

  “I have missed you,” Gavin whispered against her neck. “Do you know that when I first saw you at Demari’s, I thought I was dead?”

  She leaned her head away, giving Gavin the arch of her slender throat.

  “You were like an angel bringing light and air and your beauty into that…place. I was afraid to touch you for fear that you weren’t real—or that you were real, and I would be destroyed if I dared touch you.” He fumbled with the laces at her side.

  “I am most real,” Judith smiled.

  He was so enchanted by her look that he pulled her to face him and kissed her deeply. “Your smiles are rarer and more precious than diamonds. I have seen so few of them.” His face blackened suddenly with memory. “I could have killed you both when I saw Demari touch you.”

  She stared at Gavin in horror, then tried to push away.

  “No!” he said and held her close. “Do you give him more than me, your husband?”

  Judith was in an awkward position, but she managed to draw her hand back and slap him across the cheek.

  His eyes blazed as he caught her hand in his, crushing her small fingers together. Then suddenly he pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You are right. I am a fool. It’s done. It’s behind us. Let’s look to the future and to tonight only.” His mouth captured hers and Judith fought any rage. In truth, she thought of nothing at all as his hands roamed beneath her clothes.

  They were hungry for each other, more than hungry. The starvation Gavin had experienced in the tent was nothing compared to what he felt at having to do without his wife.

  The indigo-blue wool dress was torn away, as was the linen undertunic. The tearing fabric added to the passion, and Judith’s hands struggled with Gavin’s clothes. But his hands were faster than hers. Instantly, his clothes lay in a heap on top of hers.

  Frantically, Judith pulled him to her and Gavin more than met her ardor. Within moments they came together in a fiery starburst that left them both exhausted.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “HE THINKS HE’S BETTER THAN US,” BLANCHE SAID spitefully. She and Gladys were in the Chatworth buttery, filling jugs with wine for the eleven o’clock meal.

  “Yes,” Gladys said but with less venom. She missed Jocelin very much, but she was not angry about it as Blanche was.

  “What business do you think keeps him away from us?” Blanche asked. “He spends little enough time with her,” she jerked her head upward to indicate Alice Chatworth’s room. “And he is seldom in the hall.”

  Gladys sighed. “He seems to spend most of his time alone in the hayloft.”

  Blanche suddenly stopped her task. “Alone! Is he alone, though? We haven’t thought of that. Could he keep a woman up there?”

  Gladys laughed. “Why would Jocelin want just one woman when he can have many? And what woman is missing? Unless he has one of the serfs, I know of no one who could have been missing so long.”

  “Then what else could hold a man like Jocelin? Here, you!” Blanche called to a passing serf girl. “Finish filling these mugs.”

  “But I—,” the girl began but Blanche gave her arm a vicious pinch. “I will,” she said sullenly.

  “Come, Gladys,” Blanche called. “While Jocelin is busy somewhere else, let’s put an end to this mystery.”

  The two women left the little buttery and walked the short distance to the stables.

  “See, he removes the ladder each time he leaves,” Blanche observed. She walked quietly into the stables, Gladys close behind her. Blanche put a finger to her lips and pointed to the fat stableman’s wife. “The old dragon keeps watch over him,” she whispered.

  The girls took the ladder, being careful not to make any noise. They placed it against the outside wall, the end braced against the opening to Jocelin’s room. Blanche lifted her skirts and climbed up. When they were once inside, their view of the little room blocked by the stacks of hay, a woman’s voice reached them.

  “Jocelin? Is that you?”

  Blanche smiled in malicious triumph at Gladys and led the way into the open area. “Constance!”