The Velvet Promise (14 page)

A bricked courtyard was in the center, and Judith could see a garden with fruit trees just blooming behind a low wall.

She wanted to tell Gavin what she thought of his stewardship, but he had not given her a chance. He had done little more than give a few orders then abandoned her amid the baggage. It was up to Judith to introduce herself to the retainers.

During the past week, Judith had become very familiar with the Montgomery castle, and had found it a joyful place to work. The servants had no objections to a woman's direction. She buried herself in tasks and tried hard not to think of her husband's affair with Alice Valence. Most of the time Judith was successful. Only at night did her loneliness haunt her.

A noise in the courtyard made her run to the window. It was too early for the servants to be about, and only a Montgomery would be allowed through the smaller back gate. The light was too dim to tell who was dismounting the horses below.

She flew down the stairs to the great hall.

"Be careful, man," Raine bellowed. "Do you think I am made of iron that I can stand so much banging about?"

Judith stopped at the foot of the stairs. Her brother-in-law was being carried into the room, feet first, one leg heavily bandaged. "Raine, whatever has happened to you?"

"Cursed horse!" he said through clenched teeth. "It can't see where it is going even on the brightest of days."

She went to him as his men set him down in a chair by the empty fireplace. "Am I to understand that your horse caused this?" she smiled.

Raine stopped frowning, his cheeks beginning to dimple. "Well, maybe it was partly my own fault. He stepped into a hole and threw me. I came down on my leg and it snapped under me."

Judith immediately knelt and began to unwrap his foot which was propped on a stool.

"What are you doing?" he asked sharply. "The leech has already set it."

"I don't trust him and will see for myself. If it isn't set straight, it could leave you lame."

Raine stared at the top of her head then called to his man. "Fetch me a glass of wine. I'm sure she won't be satisfied until she causes me more agony. And fetch my brother. Why should he sleep when we are awake?"

"He isn't here," Judith said quietly.

"Who isn't here?"

"Your brother. My husband," Judith said flatly.

"Where did he go? What business called him away?"

"I am afraid I don't know. He set me on the doorstep and left. He didn't speak to me of any matter that needed his attention."

Raine took the cup of wine his vassal held for him and watched his sister-in-law as she probed the bone of his leg. At least the pain kept him from giving full vent to the anger he felt for his brother. He had no doubt that Gavin had left his beautiful bride to go to that whore, Alice. His teeth clamped down on the rim of the cup as Judith touched the break.

"It is only a little out of line," she observed. "You hold his shoulders,"

she said to one of the men behind Raine, "and I will pull the leg."

The heavy sendal of the tent was coated with water. Fat droplets collected on the ceiling and as the rain outside jarred the tent, the water dripped down.

Gavin swore loudly as more water hit his face. Since he'd left Judith, it had done little but rain. There was nothing that was not wet. And worse than the water was the tempers of his men—blacker even than the sky.

They had been roaming the countryside for well over a week, camping in a different place each night. Their food was hastily prepared in between cloudbursts and consequently was usually half raw. When John Bassett, Gavin's chief vassal, had asked his master the reason for the meandering journey, Gavin had exploded. John's level look of sarcasm made Gavin avoid his men.

He knew his men were miserable; he was himself. But at least he knew the reason for the seemingly pointless trip. Or did he? That night at Judith's father's house, when she'd been so cold to him, he decided to teach her a lesson. She felt secure in a place where she'd spent her life, surrounded by friends and family. But would she dare to act so disagreeably when she was alone in a strange household?

It worked out well when his brothers decided to leave the newly wedded couple alone. In spite of the rain dripping through the sendal of the tent, he began to smile at an imagined scene. He could see her facing some crisis—perhaps something cataclysmic, such as the cook burning a pot of beans. She would be frantic with worry, would send a messenger for him, to beg him to return and save her from disaster. The messenger would not be able to find his master since Gavin was not at any of his estates. More calamities would occur. When Gavin returned, he would find a tearful, repentant Judith who would fall into his arms, grateful to see him again, relieved that he'd come to save her from a fate worse than death.

"Oh yes," he said, smiling. All the rain and discomfort would be worth it. He would talk sternly to her and when she was completely contrite, he would kiss away her tears and carry her to their bed.

"My lord?"

"What is it?" Gavin snapped as the delicious vision was interrupted, just when he was about to imagine what he'd allow Judith to do in the bedroom, in order to obtain his forgiveness.

"We were wondering, sir, when we were to go home and get out of this cursed rain."

Gavin started to growl that it was not the man's business, then closed his mouth. He began to smile. "We will return tomorrow." Judith had been alone for eight days. That was time enough for her to learn some gratitude… and humility.

"Please, Judith," Raine pleaded as he grabbed her forearm. "I have been here two days, yet you have not given me a moment of your time."

"That isn't true," she laughed. "Only last evening I spent an hour with you at the chessboard, and you showed me some chords on the lute."

"I know," he said, still pleading, but dimples appearing on his cheeks, although he didn't smile. "It's just so awful here alone. I can't move for this cursed leg, and there is no one to keep me company."

"No one! There are over three hundred people here. Surely one of them

—" She broke off as Raine looked at her with such sad eyes that she laughed. "All right, but only one game. I have work to do."

Raine gave her a dazzling smile as she went to the other side of the chessboard. "You are the best at the game. None of my men can beat me as you did last night. Besides, you need a rest. What do you do all day?"

"Put the castle to rights," Judith responded simply.

"It always seemed to me to be in order," he said as he moved a pawn forward. "The stewards—"

"The stewards!" she said sharply as she maneuvered her bishop to attack. "They don't care as does one who owns an estate. They must be watched, their figures checked, their journals read and—"

"Read? Do you read, Judith?"

She looked up in surprise, her hand on her queen. "But of course. Don't you?"

Raine shrugged. "I never learned. My brothers did, but it didn't interest me. I have never known a woman who could read. My father said women couldn't learn to read."

Judith looked at him in disgust as her queen put his king in mortal danger. "I think you should learn that a woman can often best a man, even a king. I believe I have won the game." She stood.

Raine stared at the board in wonder. "You can't have won so soon! I didn't even see it. You kept me talking so that I couldn't concentrate." He gave her a look from the corner of his eye. "And my leg pains me so that it's hard for me to think."

Judith looked at him with concern for a moment, then began to laugh.

"Raine, you are a liar of the first water. Now I must go."

"No, Judith," he said as he lunged and grabbed her hand and began to kiss it. "Judith, don't leave me," he begged. "In truth, I am so bored I may go mad. Please stay with me. Just one more game."

Judith was laughing very hard at him. She placed her other hand on his hair as he began making outrageous promises of undying love and gratitude if she would only stay with him an hour longer.

And that was how Gavin found them. He had forgotten his wife's beauty by half. She was not dressed in the velvets and sables she had worn at their marriage, but in a simple, clinging gown of soft blue wool. Her hair was pulled back into one long, thick auburn braid. If anything, the plain garment made her even more lovely than before. She was innocence, yet the lush curves of her body showed her to be all woman.

Judith became aware of her husband's presence first. The smile on her face died immediately and her entire body stiffened.

Raine felt the tension in her hand and looked up at her questioningly.

He followed the direction of her eyes and saw his scowling brother. There was no doubt as to what Gavin thought of the scene. Judith started to pull her hand away from Raine's grasp, but he held it firmly. He would not give the impression of a guilty man to his angry brother. "I have been trying to persuade Judith to spend the morning with me," Raine said lightly. "I have been confined to this room for two days with nothing to do, but I can't persuade her to give me more of her time."

"And no doubt you have tried every persuasion," Gavin sneered, his look directed at his wife who stared at him coldly.

Judith jerked her hand away from Raine. "I must return to my work,"

she said stiffly, as she left the room.

Raine attacked first before Gavin had a chance to do so. "Where have you been?" he demanded. "Only three days married, and you drop her on the doorstep like so much baggage."

"She seems to have handled the situation well," Gavin said as he sank heavily into a chair.

"If you hint at something dishonorable—"

"No, I don't," Gavin said honestly. He knew his brothers well, and Raine would not dishonor his sister-in-law. It was just a shock after what he had expected… and hoped… to find awaiting him. "What happened to your leg?"

Raine was embarrassed to confess falling from his horse, but Gavin didn't laugh as he usually would have. Wearily, Gavin lifted himself from the chair. "I must see to my castle. I have been away a long time and I'm sure it's close to falling down about my ears."

"I wouldn't count on that," Raine said as he studied the chessboard, going over each of Judith's moves in his head. "I've never seen a woman work as Judith does."

"Bah!" Gavin said condescendingly. "How much woman's work can one do in a week? Embroider five ells of cloth?"

Raine looked up at his brother in surprise. "I didn't say she did woman's work, I said I haven't seen a woman work as she does."

Gavin didn't understand, but neither did he press Raine for an explanation. As the lord, Gavin had too much to do. The castle always seemed to flounder mightily after he'd been away for a while.

Raine knew his brother's thoughts and called after him. "I hope you find something that needs doing," he laughed.

Gavin had no idea what his brother was talking about and dismissed the words as he left the manor house. He was still angry that the scene he'd dreamed had been destroyed. But at least, there was hope. Judith would be glad he had returned to solve all the problems that had developed in his absence.

When Gavin rode through the baileys that morning, he had been so anxious to get to his weeping wife that he hadn't noticed any changes.

Now he observed subtle alterations. The half-timbered buildings in the outer bailey looked cleaner—almost new, in fact, as if they'd been recently chinked and whitewashed. The gutters that ran along the back of the buildings looked as if they'd been emptied recently.

He stopped in front of the mews. Here the falcons were kept—merlins, peregrines, sparrow hawks, tiercels. His falconer stood in front of the building, a hawk tied by the leg to a post, while the man slowly swung a lure about the bird.

"Is that a new lure, Simon?" Gavin asked.

"Yes, my lord. It's a bit smaller and can be swung faster. The bird is forced to fly faster, and its aim must be truer."

"Good idea," Gavin agreed.

"It's not mine, sir, but the Lady Judith's. She made the suggestion."

Gavin stared. "The Lady Judith told you, a master falconer, of a better lure?"

"Yes, my lord," Simon grinned, revealing two missing teeth. "I'm not so old as I don't know a good idea when I hear one. The lady's as smart as she is lovely. Came down here first morning she was here and watched me for a long time. Then, just sweet as can be, she made a few suggestions. Come inside, my lord, and see the new perches I made. Lady Judith said the old ones was the cause of the birds' sore feet. She said tiny mites get in them and hurt the birds."

Simon started to lead the way into the building, but Gavin didn't follow.

"Don't you want to see?" Simon asked sadly.

Gavin hadn't recovered from the fact that his grizzled falconer had taken advice from a woman. Gavin had tried to make hundreds of recommendations to Simon, as his father had, but to their knowledge, Simon had never done what either man wanted. "No," Gavin said, "I'll see later what changes my wife has made." He could not keep the sarcasm from his voice as he turned on his heel. What right did the woman have to interfere with his mews? Certainly women liked hawking as well as men, and certainly Judith would have her own hawk—but the care of the mews was a man's work.