The Velvet Promise (45 page)

"Here, sweet," Stephen said, gathering Judith in his arms. "Don't cry," he whispered as he stroked her hair.

"Was it a boy?" she whispered.

Stephen could only nod.

"I lost him!" she cried desperately. "He didn't even have a chance of life before I lost him. Oh, Stephen, I wanted the baby so much. He would have been good and kind and so very beautiful!"

"Yes," Stephen agreed. "Tall and dark like his father."

Judith's sobs tore through her. "Yes! At least my father was right about getting a grandson. But he is dead!"

Stephen looked over her head to his brother. He didn't know who was the most grief-stricken, Gavin or the woman he comforted.

Gavin had never seen Judith cry. She showed him hostility, passion, humor, but never this horrible racking grief. He felt a deep sadness that she did not share her grief with him.

"Judith," Stephen said. "You must rest. You have been very ill."

"How long have I been ill?"

"Three days. The fever nearly took you from us."

She sniffed, then abruptly drew away from him. "Stephen! You were to leave. You will be late for your own wedding."

He nodded grimly. "I was to wed her this morning."

"Then you have left her at the altar."

"I would hope she heard that I didn't arrive and would not go so far."

"Did you send a message?"

He shook his head. "If the truth were told, I forgot. We have all worried greatly about you. You don't know how close you came to death."

She did feel weak and extremely tired.

"Now you must sleep again."

"And you will go to your bride?" Judith asked as he helped her lie down.

"I can go now that I know the fever is broken."

"Promise me," she said tiredly. "I wouldn't wish you to start your marriage as mine was. I want better for you."

Stephen glanced quickly at his brother. "Yes, I promise. I will leave within the hour."

She nodded, her eyes closing. "Thank you," she whispered and fell asleep.

Gavin rose from the bed as his brother did. "I too forgot your marriage."

"You had other things on your mind," Stephen answered. "Is she still angry with you?"

Gavin gave his brother a cynical look. "More than angry, I would say."

"Talk to her. Tell her how you feel. Tell her the truth about Alice. She will believe you."

Gavin looked across the room at his sleeping wife. "You must pack now.

That Scots bride will have your hide."

"If that were all she wished, I would give it to her gladly."

Both men left the room, closing the door behind. Gavin clasped his brother to him. "Christmas," he said smiling. "Bring that wife of yours to us at Christmas."

"Yes, I will. And you will speak to Judith?"

Gavin nodded. "When she is better rested and I am bathed."

Stephen smiled. Gavin had not left his wife's side for the three days of her fever. Stephen cuffed his brother affectionately and turned and left the hallway.

When Judith woke again, it was dark in the room. Joan was sleeping on a pallet near the door. Judith's head was clearer and she felt stronger and very hungry. "Joan," she whispered.

The maid was on her feet instantly. "My lady," she said and grinned happily. "Lord Gavin said you were well again, but I didn't believe him."

"I would like some water," Judith said through parched lips.

"Yes," Joan laughed merrily. "Not so fast," she said as Judith greedily drank from the cup.

The door opened and they both turned to see Gavin entering with a tray of food.

"I don't want to see him," Judith said firmly.

"Go!" Gavin commanded Joan.

The maid put down the cup and left hastily.

Gavin set the tray down on a small table by the bed. "You are feeling better."

She stared at him but wouldn't answer.

"I brought you some broth and a bit of bread. You must be very hungry."

"I don't want anything from you. Neither food nor company."

"Judith," he said with great patience, "you are acting like a child. We'll speak of this again when you're well."

"Do you think time will change my mind? Will time give me back my baby? Will time let me hold him, love him, even let me see the color of his eyes?"

Gavin took his hands away from the tray. "He was my child, too, and I have lost him also."

"So, you have learned that much! Should I feel pity for your sorrow? You didn't even believe him to be yours. Or did you lie about that also?"

"I haven't lied to you, Judith. If you will only listen, I'll tell you everything."

"Listen?" she said calmly. "When have you ever listened to me? I have tried from the moment we married to please you, yet there was little I could do that didn't make you angry. Always, I felt I was compared to someone else."

"Judith," he said and took her hand from her lap.

"Don't touch me! I am fouled by your touch."

His eyes turned from gray to black. "I have something to say, and I will say it even though you try hard to prevent me. Much of what you say is true. I did love Alice, or I thought I did. I fell in love with her before I even heard her speak. I created a woman for her to be, and she became that woman. We never spent much time together, only swift moments here and there. I never knew what she was really like, only what I wished her to be."

Judith didn't answer. Gavin couldn't read her thoughts.

"I fought against loving you," he continued. "I thought my heart belonged to Alice. But now I know that was not so. Judith," he said quietly, "I have loved you for a long time. Perhaps I have loved you from the first. I do know that now I love you with all my heart and soul."

He stopped and watched her, but her expression didn't change.

"Shall I fall into your arms now and declare my great love for you also?

Is that what is expected of me?"

Gavin was stunned. Perhaps he had expected her to say she loved him.

"Your lust killed my child!"

"It was not my lust!" Gavin said passionately. "I was tricked. Stephen and I drank too much together. A leopard could have climbed into bed with me and I wouldn't have known it!"

Judith smiled icily. "And did you enjoy the leopard's claws? You have before."

Gavin gave her a cold look. "I have tried to explain my actions to you, but you won't listen. I have told you of my love—what more can I do?"

"You don't seem to understand. I don't
care
that you love me. Your love is worthless, given freely to whoever requests it. Once I might have done much to hear those words, but they are no longer sweet to me. It has taken the death of my child to clear my mind of such fairy tales as love."

Gavin sat back, staring at her. He didn't know what else to say. "I have been wrong on all counts. You are right to be angry."

"No," she smiled "I'm not angry. Neither do I hate you. I merely find life with you intolerable."

"What do you mean?"

"I shall beg the king to ask the pope for a divorce. I don't believe that even the pope would wish me to live with you after this. You shall keep half my land and—" She broke off as Gavin stood.

"I will send Joan to you. You must eat," Gavin said, then left the room.

Judith lay back against the pillow. She felt drained. How could she believe he loved her when all she could see was Alice rising from under his nude body?

For three more days, Judith didn't leave her bed. She slept a great deal and ate dutifully. Her spirits were so low that food meant little to her. She refused to see anyone, most especially her husband. Preferring to keep her opinions to herself, Joan hardly spoke to her mistress.

On the morning of the fourth day, Joan pulled the covers from Judith.

"You will not lie in bed today. There is work to be done and you must exercise." Joan took a new robe from the foot of the bed—a robe to replace the bloodstained one of green velvet. The robe was of a deep gray velvet with a wide mink collar, a mink edge along the front and around the hem.

Intricate gold embroidery ran around the shoulders.

"I don't want to get up," Judith said and turned over.

"You will!"

Judith was still too weak to resist. Joan easily pulled her mistress from the bed and helped her into the velvet robe. She led Judith to a deep window seat. "Now you will stay there while I get clean linen."

The summer breeze did feel good on Judith's face. She had a wonderful view of the garden. She leaned back against the embrasure and watched the people below.

"Gavin?" someone said quietly at his side. He sat alone in the garden, a place where he'd spent a lot of time lately. He whirled quickly at the familiar voice. It was Alice, her skin radiant in the early morning light. He had purposely put off dealing with her; he didn't trust his own reactions.

"Do you dare show yourself to me?"

"Please, allow me to explain—"

"No. You cannot explain."

Alice looked away, her hand at her eye and when she looked back, there were great, glittering tears present. Gavin looked at her and wondered how her tears had once had the power to move him. How different Judith's were! Great wrenching sobs that tore through her. She cried from grief, not to enhance her beauty.

"I did it only for you," Alice said. "My love for you is so strong that—"

"Don't speak to me of love! I wonder if you know what it is. Do you know that I talked to the girl you paid to bring Judith to you? You planned well, didn't you?"

"Gavin, I—"

He grabbed her arms and shook her. "You killed my child! Does that mean nothing to you? And you nearly killed my wife—a woman I love." He pushed Alice away from him. "I could have you before a court for this, but I blame myself as much as you. I was a fool not to have seen through you."

Alice drew her hand back and slapped him across the cheek. He allowed it for he felt he deserved it.

"Get out of my sight and don't tempt me to wring that pretty neck of yours."

Alice turned on her heel and fled from the garden.

Ela crept from the shadows. "I told you not to go to him. I told you to wait. He is very angry with you and well you deserve it." Ela was puzzled when her mistress walked behind the kitchen, into an alley.

Alice leaned against the wall. Her shoulders shook.

Ela went to her mistress and pulled her head to her ample bosom.

This time, Alice cried genuinely. "He loved me," she said through painful sobs. "He did love me once and now he doesn't anymore. I have no one else left."

"Hush, sweetheart," Ela soothed. "You have me. You have always had me." Ela held her as she had when Alice was a child and the lovely little girl had cried at the neglect of her mother. "Lord Gavin is only one man.

There are others. You are so very beautiful. There will be many men to love you."

"No!" Alice said with such violence that it shook her body. "I want him

—I want Gavin! Another man will not do!"

Ela tried to calm her mistress, but couldn't. "You shall have him then,"

she said finally.

Alice raised her head, her eyes and nose red and swollen. "Do you promise?"

Ela nodded. "Haven't I always given you what you want?"

"Yes," Alice agreed. "You have. And you will get Gavin for me?"

"I swear it."

Alice gave a small smile. Then, in a rare burst of affection, she gave Ela a swift kiss on the cheek.

The maid's old eyes misted. Of course she would do anything for this sweet girl who was so misunderstood by the people around her. "Come upstairs," she said sweetly. "We will plan a new gown."

"Yes," Alice smiled, sniffing loudly. "A merchant brought some Frankish wools this morning."

"Let's go and see them."

Judith had watched from the window only long enough to see her husband speak to his mistress. "Joan, I would like to see the king," she said, turning away from the sight.

"My lady, you cannot ask King Henry to come here."

"I don't intend to do so. You must help me dress, and I will go below to see him."

"But—"

"Don't argue with me!"

"Yes, my lady," Joan said in a hard voice.

An hour later, Judith appeared in the great hall, leaning heavily on her maid's arm.

A young man came to her side. "Alan Fairfax, my lady, if you don't remember."

"Of course I do." She managed a small smile. "You are kind to help me."

"It is a pleasure. You wish to see the king?"

She nodded gravely. She took Alan's arm and he led her to the king's chamber. It was an elegant room with a hammer-beam ceiling, linenfold paneling, and oak floors covered with Persian carpets.

"Countess!" the king said when he saw her. He had an illuminated manuscript in his lap. "You should not have left your bed so soon." He put the book aside and took her other arm.

"You are very kind, both of you," she said as Alan and Henry helped her into a chair. "I would like to speak to you, Your Majesty, on a private matter."

Henry nodded toward Alan and the knight left them. "Now, what matter is so important that you must weary yourself to seek me?"

Judith looked down at her hands. "I would like a divorce."

King Henry was silent for a moment. "Divorce is a grave undertaking.

Do you have cause?"

There were two types of divorce and three reasons for each. The best Judith could hope for was a separation, allowing her to live apart from her husband for the rest of her life. "Adultery," she said quietly.