The Velvet Promise (33 page)

They sit at her feet and gaze at her with cow eyes."

"Speaking of cow eyes, what do you plan to do about John Bassett?"

"I should marry him to her. If Lady Helen is anything like her daughter, his life will be hell. It is little enough punishment for his stupidity."

Stephen bellowed with laughter. "You are changing, brother. Judith obsesses you."

"Yes, as a boil on my backside. Come, let's hurry these people and leave this place."

Outside the Demari estate was the camp Gavin had left. John Bassett had not known about Gavin's tunneling under the walls, for Gavin never told any of his men all his plans. When Gavin had been taken captive and John had returned to the Montgomery estate, the men Gavin had chosen kept on with their digging. It had taken days, with no man getting more than a few hours' sleep at a time. As the men dug, they braced the earth over their heads with timbers. When they were nearly through to the other side, they built a hot fire inside the tunnel. Once the timber burned away, a section of the wall collapsed with a deafening crash.

In the ensuing confusion of setting up camp, Judith was able to escape for a few moments alone. A river ran through the trees beyond the open ground of the camp. She walked through the woods and found a secluded spot where she was hidden, yet able to enjoy the sound and sight of the water.

She had not realized how tense she'd been during the last week. The incessant conniving, the lying she'd done while Walter's captive had taken a toll on her. It was good to feel peaceful and free again. Now, in just a few brief moments, she wouldn't think of her husband or of any other of her many problems.

"You too seek solace," came a quiet voice.

She had heard no one approach. She looked up to see Raine smiling at her.

"I will go if you wish. I don't want to intrude."

"You aren't. Come and sit with me. I only wanted to put myself far away from noise and people for a while. "

He sat beside her, his long legs stretched before him, his back against a rock. "I'd hoped to find things better between you and my brother, but they don't look as though they are," he said without preamble. "Why did you kill Demari?"

"Because there was no other way," Judith said, her head bowed. She looked up, her eyes full of tears. "It is an awful thing to have taken someone's life."

Raine shrugged. "It is necessary at times. What of Gavin? Didn't he explain such to you? Didn't he offer you comfort for what you did?"

"He has said very little to me," she said bluntly. "Let's talk of other things. Your leg is better?"

Raine started to speak, then they both looked toward the river when they heard a woman laugh. Helen and John Bassett walked along the edge of the water. Judith started to call to her mother, but Raine stopped her.

He didn't think the lovers should be disturbed.

"John," Helen said, gazing at him with love. "I don't think I can bear it."

John tenderly pushed a bit of hair from her cheek. She looked like a radiant young girl. "We must. It will be no easier for me to have you taken from me, to see you wed to another."

"Please," she whispered, "I cannot bear the thought. Is there not some way—?"

John put his fingertips on her lips. "No, don't say it again. We cannot be wed. We have these few hours now—that's all."

Helen flung her arms about his chest, holding him as tightly as she could. John embraced her until he nearly crushed her. "I would leave everything for you," she whispered.

"And I would give anything if I could have you." He buried his cheek against the top of her head. "Come, let's go. Someone may see us here."

She nodded and the two of them walked away, slowly, their arms locked about each other.

"I didn't know," Judith said at last.

Raine smiled at her. "It happens at times. They will get over the pain.

Gavin will find a new husband for your mother, and he will fill her bed."

Judith turned to him, her eyes a blaze of gold. "A new husband!" she hissed. "One who will fill her bed! Do men ever think of anything else?"

Raine looked at her in fascination. She'd never turned her wrath toward him. It was not just her beauty that fascinated him, but her spirit. He again felt the stirrings of love for her. He smiled. "There is little else to think of about women," he teased, only half-serious.

Judith started to speak until she saw the laughter in Raine's eyes, the dimples in his cheeks. "Is there no way for them?"

"No, none. John's parents are not even of noble birth, and your mother was married to an earl." He put his hand on her forearm. "Gavin will find a good man for her, one who will manage her property well and who will be kind to her."

Judith didn't answer him.

"I must go," Raine said abruptly as he awkwardly rose. "Curse this thing!" he said vehemently. "I had an ax blade in my leg that didn't cause me as much pain as this break."

She looked up at him. "At least it's set properly," she said, her eyes twinkling.

Raine winced at the memory of the pain when Judith had reset his leg.

"I will remember not to come to you should anything else need doctoring.

I'm not man enough to take any more of your healing. Will you return now to the tents?"

"No, I will sit alone awhile."

He looked about the place. It seemed safe enough, but he couldn't be sure. "Don't stay past sundown. If I don't see you before then, I will come for you."

She nodded and looked back at the water as he walked away. Raine's concern had always made her feel warm and protected. She remembered how glad she'd been when she saw him at the castle. His arms about her made her feel safe and secure. Then why didn't she look at him with passion? It was odd that she felt only the most sisterly affection for a man who treated her so kindly, while her husband—

She wouldn't think of Gavin while in this quiet spot. Any thoughts of him made her too angry. He'd believed Walter's words that she was carrying that man's child. Her hands went to her stomach protectively.

Her child! Whatever happened, the baby would always be hers.

"What do you plan for her?" Raine asked as he made a great show of easing himself into a chair in Gavin's tent. Stephen sat to one side, running a knife along a whetstone.

Gavin was on the other side, eating, as he had been doing ever since he left the castle. "I assume you mean my wife," Gavin said as he speared a piece of roast pork. "You seem overconcerned with her," he challenged.

"And you seem to ignore her!" Raine spat. "She killed a man for you.

That's not easy for a woman—yet you don't even speak to her of it."

"What comfort could I give her after my brothers have given her so much?"

"She gets little enough elsewhere."

"Shall I have my squire fetch swords?" Stephen asked sarcastically. "Or perhaps you would like full armor?"

Raine relaxed immediately. "You are right, brother. I just wish that this other brother of mine were as sensible."

Gavin glared at Raine, before looking back at his food.

Stephen watched Gavin's eating for a moment. "Raine, are you trying to interfere between Gavin and his wife?"

Raine shrugged and adjusted his leg. "He doesn't treat her well."

Stephen smiled in understanding. Raine had always been a fighter for the underdog. He would champion any cause that he felt needed him. The silence between the brothers grew heavy until Raine rose and left the tent.

Gavin looked after him then pushed the food away, full at last. He stood and walked toward his cot.

"She carries the man's child," Gavin said after a time.

"Demari's?" Stephen asked then gave a low whistle at Gavin's nod.

"What will you do with her?"

Gavin sank onto a chair. "I don't know," he said quietly. "Raine says I didn't comfort her, but how could I? She killed her lover."

"Was she forced?"

Gavin hung his head. "I don't believe so. No, she couldn't have been. She had the freedom of the castle. She came to me in the pit and again when I was brought from there and taken to a tower cell. Had she been forced, she wouldn't have had such freedom."

"That's true, but doesn't her visiting you mean that she desired to help you?"

Gavin's eyes blazed. "I don't know what she desires. She seems to be on the side of whoever holds her. When she came to me, she said she did everything for me; yet when she was near Demari, she was wholly his. She is a clever woman."

Stephen ran his thumb along the edge of his knife, testing it. "Raine seems to think a great deal of her, and Miles also."

Gavin snorted. "Miles is too young to know yet that women have anything besides a body. And Raine he has championed her cause for long."

"You could declare the child to be another's and set her aside."

"No!" Gavin said almost violently, then looked away.

Stephen laughed. "You are still hot for her? She is beautiful but there are other beautiful women. What of Alice, whom you declared you loved?"

Stephen was the only person Gavin had ever confided in about Alice.

"She was married not long ago to Edmund Chatworth."

"Edmund! That bit of slime! Didn't you offer her marriage?"

Gavin's silence was his answer.

Stephen put his knife back in the case at his side. "Women aren't worth the worry you spend on them. Take that wife of yours and bed her, and don't give her another thought." He dismissed the subject and rose. "I think I'll go to sleep. It's been a long day. I'll see you tomorrow."

Gavin sat alone in his tent, the darkness rapidly gathering. Set her aside, he thought. He could do that since she carried another man's child.

But he couldn't imagine not seeing her.

"Gavin," Raine interrupted his thoughts. "Has Judith returned? I told her she mustn't stay out past sunset."

Gavin rose, his jaw clenched. "You think too much of my wife. Where was she? I'll find her."

Raine smiled at his brother. "By the stream, through there," he pointed.

Judith knelt by the side of the river, her hand playing in the cool, clear water.

"It's late. You must return to the camp."

She looked up, startled. Gavin towered over her, his gray eyes dark in the fading daylight. His expression was closed.

"I don't know these woods," he continued. "There may be danger."

She stood, her shoulders back. "That would suit you, wouldn't it? A dead wife is surely better than a dishonored one." She lifted her skirts and strode past him

He grabbed her forearm "We must talk, seriously and without anger."

"Has there been anything else between us except anger? Say what you must—I grow weary."

His face softened. "Does the burden of the child tire you?"

Her hands flew to her stomach. Then she straightened, her chin up.

"This baby will never be a burden to me."

Gavin looked across the water, as if he struggled with some great problem. "For all that has happened since, I believe you meant well when you gave yourself into Demari's hands. I know you have no love for me, but your mother was held also. For her alone, you would have risked what you did."

Judith nodded, frowning slightly.

"I don't know what happened after you came to the castle. Perhaps Demari was kind to you and you needed kindness. Perhaps even at the wedding, he offered you kindness."

Judith couldn't speak as her bile rose.

"As for the child, you may keep it and I won't set you aside, as perhaps I should. For if the truth were known, maybe some of the blame is mine. I will care for the child as if he were my own, and he shall be given some of your lands to inherit." Gavin paused and stared at her. "Do you say nothing? I have tried to be honest… and fair. I don't believe you could ask for more."

It took Judith a moment to recover herself. Her teeth were clamped together when she spoke. "Fair! Honest! You don't know the meaning of those words! Just look at what you're saying. You are willing to concede that I came to the castle for honorable purposes, but after that, you insult me horribly."

"Insult you?" Gavin asked, bewildered.

"Yes! Insult me! Do you believe me to be so baseborn, that I would give myself freely to a man who threatened my mother and my husband—for before God, you are that! You say I needed kindness! Yes, I do, as I have never had kindness from you. But I'm not so shallow as to break my vows to God for a little thoughtfulness. Once I broke such a vow, but I won't do so again." She looked away, her face warm with memory.

"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?"