The Velvet Promise (36 page)

"Jocelin."

He walked past her as if he had not seen her or did not care that he had.

Alice stared after him, then slowly walked to Edmund's room. She stepped over the dead guard, her heart pounding. When she saw Edmund's body, the blood still running from the slashed throat, she smiled.

Alice went to the window, her hand on the sill, covering a stain made by another's innocent blood on the day before. "A widow," she whispered. A widow! Now she had it all—wealth, beauty and freedom.

For a month she had been writing letters, begging for an invitation to King Henry's court. When it had come, Edmund had laughed at her, saying he refused to spend the money on such frivolities. In truth, he would not be free at court to toss serving girls from windows as he was in his own castle. Now, Alice thought, she could go unencumbered to the king's court.

And there would be Gavin! Ah yes, she had arranged that also. That red-headed whore had had him too long. Gavin was hers and he would remain so. If she could get rid of that wife of his, then he would be hers entirely. He would not deny her gowns of gold cloth. No, Gavin would deny her nothing. Had she not always gotten what she wanted? Now she wanted Gavin Montgomery again, and she would get him.

Someone walking across the courtyard caught her attention. Jocelin made his way to the stairs leading to the top of the wall, a leather sachel over his shoulder.

"You have done me a great favor," she whispered. "And now I will repay you." She did not call the guards. Instead, she stood silently, planning what she would do now that she was free of Edmund. Jocelin had given her much—access to great wealth—but most of all, he had given her Gavin.

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It was hot in the tent. Gavin couldn't sleep. He stood and looked down at Judith, sleeping peacefully, one bare shoulder exposed above the linen sheet. Quietly, he drew on his clothes, smiling at his wife's still form.

They'd spent a good part of the evening making love, and now she was exhausted. But he was not. No, far from it. Loving Judith seemed to set a spark to him and light a fire that was unquenchable.

He took a velvet mantle from a chest, then pulled the sheet from her and wrapped her in the cloak. She snuggled against him like a child—never waking, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. He carried her out of the tent, nodded to the guards on duty and walked toward the forest. He bent his head and kissed her sleep-softened mouth.

"Gavin," she murmured.

"Yes, it's Gavin."

She smiled against his shoulder, her eyes never opening. "Where are you taking me?"

He chuckled and held her closer. "Do you care?"

She smiled broader, her eyes still closed. "No, I do not," she whispered.

He laughed, deep in his chest. At the side of the river he sat her down and she gradually began to wake. The coolness of the air, the sound of the water and the sweetness of the grasses added to the dreamlike quality of the situation.

Gavin sat beside her, not touching her. "You once said you broke a vow to God. What vow was it?" He tensed for her answer. They had not spoken again of the time at Demari's, yet Gavin wanted to know what befell her there. He wanted her to deny what he knew to be true. If she loved Demari, why had she killed him? And if she did go to another man, wasn't it Gavin's own fault? He knew the vow she broke was the one she made before a priest and hundreds of witnesses.

The darkness covered Judith's blushes. She was, unaware of Gavin's train of thought. She remembered only that she had gone to him before he left for battle.

"Am I such an ogre that you cannot tell me?" he asked quietly. "Tell me this one thing, and I'll ask nothing more of you."

It was a private thing to her, but it was true; he had asked her little.

There was a full moon and the night was bright. She kept her eyes turned away from his. "I made a vow to you at our wedding and… I broke it."

He nodded; it was as he feared.

"I knew I broke it when I came to you that night," she continued. "But that man had no right to say we didn't sleep together. What was between us was ours to deal with."

"Judith, I don't understand you."

She looked at him, startled. "I speak of the vow. Didn't you ask me of it?" She saw he still didn't understand. "In the garden, when I saw you and

—" She broke off and looked away. The memory of Alice in his arms was still vivid to her, and much more painful now than it was then.

Gavin stared at her, trying to remember. When it finally came to him, he began to chuckle.

Judith turned on him, her eyes blazing. "You laugh at me?"

"Yes, I do. Such a vow of ignorance! You were a virgin when you made it. How were you to know what pleasures were to be had in my bed, and that you couldn't keep yourself away from me?"

She glared at him, then stood. "You are a vain and insufferable man. I give you my confidence, and you laugh at me!" She threw her shoulders back, the mantle wrapped tightly about her, and arrogantly started to walk away from him.

Gavin, with a lecherous grin on his face, gave one powerful tug to the cloak and pulled it off her. Judith gasped and tried to cover herself. "Will you go back to camp now?" he taunted, rolling the velvet mantle and placing it behind his head.

Judith looked at him, stretched out on the grass, not even looking at her. So! he thought he had won, did he?

Gavin lay quietly, expecting any moment that she would return and beg him for her clothes. He heard a great deal of rustling in the bushes and smiled confidently. She was too modest to return to camp without her clothes. There was silence for a moment, then he heard a rhythmic movement of leaves, as if…

He was on his feet in an instant, following the sound. "Why you little minx!" he laughed as he stood before his wife. She wore a very concealing gown of tree leaves and the branches of several shrubs. She smiled up at him in triumph.

Gavin put his hands on his hips. "Will I ever win an argument with you?"

"Probably not," Judith said smugly.

Gavin chuckled devilishly. Then his hand swept out and tore away the fragile garment. "You don't think so?" he asked as he grabbed her by the waist and picked her up. The nude curves of her body were made silver by the moonlight. He swung her high in his arms, laughing at her gasp of fright. "Don't you know a good wife does not argue with her husband?" he teased.

He sat her on the branch of a tree, her knees at eye level. "I find you particularly interesting this way." He looked at her face, his own smiling, then he froze when he saw the sheer terror in her eyes.

"Judith," he whispered. "I forgot your fear. Forgive me." He had to pry her hands loose from the tree limb, the knuckles white. Even when she was loose, he still had to drag her across the limb, scraping her bare bottom on the rough bark. "Judith, forgive me," he whispered as she clung to him.

He carried her back to the edge of the river and wrapped the mantle about her, holding her in his lap and cuddling her close. His stupidity infuriated him. How could he have forgotten something so important as her terrifying fear of heights? He lifted her chin and kissed her sweetly on the mouth.

Suddenly her kiss turned to passion. "Hold me," she whispered desperately. "Don't leave me."

He was struck by the urgency in her voice. "No, sweet, I won't."

Always she had been a woman of passion but now she was in a frenzy.

Her mouth clung to his; then her lips ran along his neck. Never had she been so aggressive.

"Judith," he murmured. "Sweet, sweet Judith." The mantle fell away and her bare breasts pushed against him, insolently and demanding.

Gavin's head began to swim.

"Do you leave these garments on?" she asked in a harsh whisper as her hands ran under the loose tabard. Gavin could hardly bear leaving the nearness of her body for even a few moments to remove his clothing. His doublet was quickly tossed over his head, then his shirt. He hadn't bothered with underwear when he left the tent.

Judith pushed him to the ground and leaned over him. He lay very still, scarcely able to breathe. "It is you who looks to be frightened," she laughed.

"I am." His eyes twinkled. "Will you have your way with me?"

Her hand moved over his body, delighting in his smooth skin, the thick mat of hair on his chest. Then it moved lower and lower.

He gasped, his eyes turning black. "Do what you wish," he said hoarsely.

"Only do not take your hand away."

She laughed throatily, feeling a surge of power course through her. She had control of him. But the next moment, feeling his hardness in her hand, she knew he had as much power over her. She was insensible with desire. She climbed on top of him, leaned over and hungrily sought his mouth.

Gavin lay still as she moved on him but soon he could lay still no longer.

He grabbed her hips and guided her—faster, harder, his fierceness beginning to match her own.

And then they exploded together.

"Wake up, you hussy," Gavin laughed and slapped Judith's bare buttocks. "The camp wakes and will search for us."

"Let them," Judith murmured and pulled the mantle closer to her.

Gavin towered over her, her body between his feet. Never had he experienced such a night as the one just past. Who was this wife of his?

An adulteress? A woman who went from one loyalty to the next, as the wind carried her? Or was she good and kind, as his brothers thought?

Whatever she was, she was a demon when it came to lovemaking. "Shall I call your maid to dress you here? Joan will have a few words to say, no doubt."

When Judith sleepily thought of Joan's smirks, it took little time for her to come fully awake. She sat up and looked at the river, then took a deep breath of cool, morning air. She yawned and stretched, the mantle falling away, exposing one full, impudent breast.

"God's teeth!" Gavin swore. "Cover yourself, or we will never reach London and the king."

She smiled at him enticingly. "Maybe I would rather stay here. Court couldn't be half as pleasant."

"Yes," Gavin laughed, then bent and wrapped her in his mantle and swooped her into his arms. "Come, let's return. Miles and Raine leave us today, and I wish to speak with them."

They were silent as they returned to the tent. Judith snuggled against Gavin's shoulder. Would that it could always be like this, she thought. He could be kind and tender when he wanted. Please God, she prayed, let this last between us. Don't let us quarrel again.

An hour later, Judith walked between Raine and Miles, each man holding her hand. They looked to be an incongruous group: two large men dressed in heavy wool traveling clothes, Judith between them, barely reaching to their shoulders.

"I will miss you both," Judith said, squeezing their hands. "It's good having all my family near, though my mother rarely leaves John Bassett's side."

Raine laughed. "Do I hear jealousy in that?"

"Yes," Miles said. "Aren't we enough for you?"

"Gavin seems to be enough," Raine teased.

Judith laughed, her cheeks turning pink. "Is there ever anything that one brother does that the others don't know about?"

"Not much," Raine said then looked over her head to Miles. "There is the question of course of where our little brother spent last night."

"With Joan," Judith said before she thought.

Raine's eyes danced in laughter while Miles's were, as usual, unreadable.

"I… know because Joan had a lot to say about him," said Judith, stammering.

Raine's dimples deepened. "Don't let Miles scare you. He is very curious as to what the woman said."

Judith smiled. "I will tell you the next time I see you. Perhaps I can encourage you to visit sooner than you planned."

"Well said!" Raine laughed. "Now, in truth, we must go. We wouldn't be welcome at court unless we paid our own way, and I cannot afford the extra expense."

"He is rich," Miles said. "Don't let him fool you."

"Neither of you fool me. Thank you both for all your time and concern.

Thank you for listening to my problems."

"Shall we all cry, when we could be kissing this delicious woman?" Miles asked.

"You are right for once, little brother," Raine said as he lifted Judith from the ground and planted a hearty kiss on her cheek.

Miles took her next and laughed at his brother. "You don't know how to treat a woman," he said as he gathered Judith in his arms and gave her mouth a very unbrotherly kiss.

"You forget yourself, Miles," came a deadly voice.

Judith broke away from her brother-in-law to see Gavin staring at them, his eyes dark.

Raine and Miles exchanged looks. It was the first time that Gavin had ever shown any real jealousy. "Put her down before he draws a sword on you," Raine said.

Miles held Judith for a moment longer and looked down at her. "She might be worth it." He set her gently on the ground.

"We will see you again soon," Raine told Gavin. "Perhaps at Christmas we can get together. I should like to see that Scottish lady Stephen is to marry."

Gavin placed a possessive hand on Judith's shoulder and drew her close to him. "At Christmas," he said. His brothers mounted their horses and rode away.