The Velvet Promise (44 page)

Stephen leaned his head back against the stone wall. "God's wounds!

And you believed her? That woman would willingly kill thousands before she would endanger one hair on her own head."

"But I asked her to marry me," Gavin persisted. "Before I ever heard of Judith, I asked her to marry me."

"Yet she chose a rich earl instead."

"But her father—"

"Gavin! Can't you look at her with clear eyes? Do you think that drunkard of a father of hers ever gave anyone an order? Even his servants don't obey him! Were he a strong man, would she have had such freedom to slip about the countryside with you at night?"

It was hard for Gavin to believe all this of Alice. She was so pink and blonde, so delicate, so shy. She looked up at him with great tears in her eyes and his heart melted. He remembered how he felt when she threatened to take her own life. He would have done anything for her. Yet even then his attraction to Judith had been enormous.

"You aren't convinced," Stephen said.

"I'm not sure. Old dreams die hard. She is a beautiful woman."

"Yes, and you fell in love with that beauty. You never questioned what else was there. You say you didn't take her to your bed. How did she get there then?"

When Gavin didn't answer, Stephen continued. "The slut stripped her own clothes off and planted herself there. Then she sent someone to summon Judith."

Gavin rose. He didn't want to hear any more. "I must go and see if Judith is well," he murmured and walked back to the manor house. All his life, since he was sixteen, Gavin had been responsible for property and men. He had never had the carefree time of his brothers to court women and learn of their natures. True, there had been many women in his bed, but always they were gone quickly. No woman had spent time close to him, laughing and talking with him. He had grown up believing all women were like he remembered his mother—pretty, sweet-tempered, gentle.

Alice had always seemed to be the epitome of those traits, and as a result, he had become infatuated with her almost immediately.

Judith had been the first woman he had really known. At first she had infuriated him. She was not obedient, as a woman should be. She would rather concern herself with his household account books than the colors used in a piece of embroidery. She was breathtakingly beautiful, but she seemed unaware of her beauty. She did not spend hours on her clothes. In truth, Joan often chose her mistress's attire. Judith seemed to be everything undesirable, unfeminine. Yet Gavin had fallen in love with her.

She was honest, brave, generous—and she made him laugh. Never once had Alice shown even a touch of humor.

Gavin stood outside the door of Judith's chamber. He knew he no longer loved Alice, but could she be as treacherous as Stephen said? As Raine and Miles also said? How did she come to be in his bed except for the reason Stephen gave?

The door opened and the midwife stepped into the hall. Gavin grabbed her arm. "How is she?"

"Sleeping now. The child was born dead."

Gavin took a deep, calming breath. "Will my wife recover?"

"I don't know. She has lost much blood. I don't know if it was from the infant, or perhaps something inside was damaged in the fall."

Gavin's face drained of color. "Didn't you say she lost blood from the child?" He didn't want to believe that something else could be wrong.

"How long have you been wed to her?"

"Nearly four months," he answered, surprised.

"And she was a virgin when you took her?"

"Yes," he said, remembering the pain he had caused her.

"She was quite far along. The child was well formed. I would say she conceived that first night or the next. No later. Perhaps there is so much blood because the child was so well advanced. It's too early to tell."

She turned to go, but Gavin grabbed her arm. "How will you know?"

"When the bleeding stops and she is still alive."

He released her arm. "You say she sleeps. May I go to her?"

The old woman chuckled. "Young men! They never seem to deny themselves. You bed one woman while another waits for you. Now you hover over the first one. You should choose one or the other."

Gavin swallowed his reply, but his scowl made the smile leave her face.

"Yes, you may go to her," the woman said quietly, then turned and went down to the stairs.

The rain came down in slashing sheets. The wind bent the trees almost in half. Lightning flashed and far away a tree split and crashed. But the four people who stood around the tiny coffin that the workers had just lowered into the ground, were unaware of the cold torrent. Their bodies swayed with the gale, but they did not notice it.

Helen stood by John, her body limp, leaning heavily against the strength of him for support. Her eyes were dry and hot. Stephen stood close to Gavin, ready if his brother should need him.

It was John and Stephen who exchanged looks, the rain running down their faces, dripping into their clothes. John gently led Helen away from the little gravesite and Stephen guided Gavin. The storm had started suddenly, after the priest had begun to read the words over the tiny coffin.

Stephen and John looked as if they were leading two blind and helpless people across the graveyard. They led Helen and Gavin into a mausoleum and left them there while they went to get the horses.

Gavin sank heavily onto an iron bench. The child had been a son. His first son, he thought. Every word he'd said to Judith about the child not being his rang in his ears. And the baby was dead because of him. He dropped his head into his hands.

"Gavin," Helen said as she sat beside him and put her arm about his shoulders. They'd had so little to do with each other since Helen screamed she wished she'd killed her daughter before allowing her to marry him. But over the months many things had changed. Helen had found out what it was like to love someone, and now she recognized love in Gavin's eyes. She saw the pain he suffered over his lost child, the fear he had of losing Judith.

Gavin turned to his mother-in-law. He never thought of any hostility between them. He saw and remembered only that Helen was close to the woman he loved. He put his arms about her, but he did not hold her. No, it was Helen who held her son-in-law, and Helen who felt the hotness of his tears through her rain-soaked gown. And finally Helen found release for her own tears.

Joan sat by her sleeping mistress. Judith's color was gone, her hair damp with perspiration. "She will soon be well," Joan said to Gavin's unasked question.

"I'm not so sure." He touched his wife's hot cheek.

"It was a nasty fall she took," Joan said, staring intently at Gavin.

Gavin only nodded, more concerned with Judith than with any talk.

"What do you plan to do to her?" Joan continued.

"Do to her?" Gavin demanded. "I hope only to see her well once again."

Joan waved her hand. "No, I mean to Lady Alice. What punishment do you plan for the trick she played? Trick!" Joan snorted. "A trick that may cost my lady her life!"

"Don't say that," Gavin growled.

"I ask you again: what punishment do you plan?"

"Hold your tongue, woman! I know nothing of a trick."

"No? Then I will speak my piece. There is a woman below, in the kitchen, who cries her eyes from her head. She has a gold coin which she says Lady Alice gave her to lead my lady to you while you were in bed with that whore. The girl says she thought she would have done anything for the coin, but she didn't mean murder. She says Lady Judith's baby's death and maybe the lady's own death are her fault and that she will go to hell for their murders."

Gavin realized it was time to face the truth. "I would like to see this woman and speak with her," he said quietly.

Joan rose. "I will fetch the girl if I can find her."

Gavin sat with Judith, watching, noting that her natural color was returning.

It was some time later when Joan came back, pulling a frightened and cowering girl behind her. "This is the slut!" Joan said and gave the servant a vicious push. "Look at my mistress as she lies there. You have killed a baby, and now you may kill my lady. And she never hurt a soul. Do you know she often lectured me for mistreating scum like you?"

"Quiet!" Gavin commanded. The girl was obviously very frightened.

"Tell me what you know of my wife's accident."

"Accident, ha!" Joan snorted, then quieted at Gavin's look.

The girl, her eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other, told her story in disjointed, hesitant sentences. At the end, she threw herself at Gavin's feet. "Please, my lord, save me. Lady Alice will murder me!"

Gavin's face showed no pity. "You ask me for help? What help did you give my wife? Or our child? Shall I take you to where they have buried the child?"

"No," the girl cried desperately, her head touching the floor.

"Get up!" Joan commanded. "You dirty our floor!"

"Take her away," Gavin said. "I cannot bear the sight of her."

Joan grabbed the girl's hair and viciously pulled her up, then gave her a hard kick toward the door.

"Joan," Gavin said. "Take her to John Bassett and tell him to see that she is safe."

"Safe!" Joan exploded then her eyes hardened. "Yes, my lord," she said in a falsely submissive voice. She closed the door, twisting the girl's arm behind her back. "She kills my lady's baby, and I am to see her safe!" she muttered. "No, I will see that she gets what she deserves."

At the top of the spiral stairs, Joan's hand bit into the terrified girl.

"Here! stop that!" John Bassett growled. He had never been far from Judith's room over the last several days. "Is this the one Lady Alice paid?"

There wasn't a person in the castle who wasn't aware of the story of Alice's treachery.

"Oh please, sir," the girl begged, falling to her knees. "Don't let her kill me. I won't do anything like that again."

John started to speak. Then he gave Joan a look of disgust and lifted the maid. Joan stood for several minutes, watching their retreating backs.

"Too bad he took her. You could have saved me some work," said a quiet voice behind her.

Joan whirled to face Alice Chatworth. "I would rather see you at the bottom of the stairs," Joan sneered.

Alice's blue eyes blazed. "I will have your life for that!"

"Here? Now?" Joan taunted. "No, that's not your way. You hire people to do your work for you—then you simper as if you were an innocent maid."

No one had ever dared say such things to Alice!

"Come," Joan taunted. "Why do you hesitate? I stand on the brink of the stairs."

Alice was tempted to try to give the maid one hard push, but Joan looked to be strong, and Alice couldn't risk losing such a struggle. "You will look to your life for this," Alice sneered.

"No, I will look to my back, where such as you would strike." Joan stared at the woman, then began to laugh. She laughed all the way up the stairs until she reached her mistress's room.

The midwife and Gavin hovered over Judith. "The fever has begun," the old woman said quietly. "Now prayers will help as much as anything else."

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Judith was dreaming. Her body was hot and sore, and she had trouble concentrating on what was happening. Gavin was there, smiling at her, but his smile was false. Behind him stood Alice Chatworth, her eyes glowing in triumph. "I have won," the woman whispered. "I have won!"

Judith woke slowly, coming fretfully from the dream that seemed real as she felt the ache of her body, as if she'd slept for days on a board. She moved her head to one side. Gavin sat sleeping in a chair by the bed. Even asleep he looked tense, as if he were ready to spring to his feet. His face was haggard, his cheekbones prominent under his skin. He wore several days' growth of beard, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

Judith was puzzled for a few moments, wondering why Gavin should look so tired and she should ache so badly. Her hand moved under the covers and touched her stomach. It had once been hard and slightly rounded, but now it was sunken and soft. And oh so horribly empty!

She remembered everything then, remembered Gavin in bed with Alice.

He had said he no longer cared for her and Judith had begun to believe him. She had started to think of a good life together, of when their child would be born and they would be happy. What a fool she had been!

"Judith!" Gavin said in a strangely harsh voice. He quickly sat beside her on the bed, his hand feeling her forehead. "The fever is broken," he said with relief. "How do you feel?"

"Don't touch me," she whispered. "Get away from me!"

Gavin nodded, his lips set in a firm line.

Before either of them could speak again the door opened and Stephen entered. The worried expression on his face gave way to a broad smile when he saw she was awake. He quickly went to the side of the bed opposite Gavin. "Sweet little sister," he murmured. "We thought we might lose you." He touched her neck gently.

At the sight of a familiar and loved face, Judith felt tears come to her eyes.

Stephen frowned and looked to his brother but Gavin shook his head.