A Lily on the Heath (Medieval Herb Garden 4)

She danced out of his reach. “Not until I have seen to every inch of you—”

“Every inch?” he asked. “I have some inches for you to see to. ” He patted the growing bulge behind his hose, grinning lasciviously.

Maris laughed and cast him a hot, purposeful look that had him lunging for her. She whirled out of reach once more. “But of course, those inches must need special treatment. Very special treatment. But only after I’ve peeled the last bit of cloth from your skin. Why do men allow their wounds to bleed into the sherte, and then dry thus?” she asked, moving back within range of his randy hands in order to soak the cloth in warm water and pull it carefully away.

“Because we do not care, for we know we have sharp-tongued wives to do it for us. Inflicting torture is one of the things they do best,” he said, sliding his hand around to cup her breast. “By God, you are still so full and round,” he murmured, burying his face in her neck.

Maris shivered and sagged against him for a moment, her hand settling over his flat belly, her fingers brushing the top of his hose-covered cock. It had been overlong since they lay together, for the king had called Dirick to him only a month after Rogan’s birth. Now the babe was a half-year old. She had sorely missed her husband, which was why she had made the journey to court.

But there was aught to be seen to before any special treatment so there was no blood over the bedcoverings. And Maris must assure herself there were no serious wounds on the man she loved, for after the injuries she’d tended to in his squire Claude, she feared what Dirick might be hiding beneath his bravado and clothing.

She slipped from his embrace, taking a piece of the sherte with her. He winced and glowered as she ripped it from his skin. “Not only do you put me off, but you torture me in the process,” he grumbled.

“Then let us talk of aught else while I see to you—no more distractions. Sally will be back with Rogan soon, and I know he will want to see his papa. ”

“Only as long as you promise to give special attention to all of my inches. ”

“But of course, my lord,” Maris replied primly. “Every inch shall get its due. Now, what do you know of Judith of Kentworth and her liaison with the king?”

“What say you?” Dirick stared at her, his lustful interest shifting to befuddlement. “Where do you hear this rumor?”

She shook her head. “’Tis no rumor. The queen confronted her in the solar this day. ’Twas an ugly scene. ”

“Judith of Kentworth. Hair the color of fire? Mal Verne’s cousin?” Dirick repeated. “I would not have believed it. ”

“Nor would anyone else. The other ladies were stunned by the revelation. Even Ursula of Tenavaux, who is quite close to Judith, did not know. ”

“Not that the king isn’t known for his…appetite,” he mused as she pulled off another cloth-scab. “And she is a comely woman. Ouch!”

Maris grinned. “So sorry, my lord. ”

He grumbled again and reached around, firmly grasping her arse with both hands as he pulled her up against him. “You are not sorry in the least. ”

“For such a warrior, you are a quite a chicken-heart,” she told him, poking his shoulder. “That would not have even hurt Rogan. ” Then, once again disengaging herself from his busy fingers—though ’twas getting more difficult to do—she turned her attention back to the matter at hand. “So Lady Judith did not flaunt her relationship with the king. She kept it secret. I wonder how long she has been warming his bed. ”

“I do not know, Maris. But what I do know is…someone must needs warm my bed. Right now. ”

And before she could make even a token protest, he scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed.

NINE

By the time of the evening meal, the gossip had spread like a blaze among tinder.

But Mal, who’d kept himself busy away from the doings of the court by working with Rike, first heard of the events in the queen’s solar when he joined Dirick of Ludingdon and the man’s wife at one of the trestle tables in the great hall.

“She’ll likely have a bruise, and mayhap a scar,” Lady Maris was saying to Lady Ursula as Mal stepped over the bench and settled into a place across from them. “I tended to her as well as I could, but only time will tell. ”

Dirick handed Mal a bottle of wine to fill his goblet as he asked his wife, “Will she show her face for dinner? Or will she remain abovestairs, for fear of meeting the wrath of the queen?”

“I do not—ah, well, there is the answer to your question. ” Maris nodded toward the front of the hall.

Mal, ignorant of the topic of conversation, didn’t deign to turn behind him to look until Lady Maris added, “See you there? That does not look like a woman infatuated with her lover. The king fawns, and Judith looks miserable. And the queen is nowhere to be seen. ”

Mal had stiffened at the mention of Judith. But instead of looking, he busied himself by sawing through a loaf of bread with a dull knife. In the end, he resorted to tearing off a hunk of it and leaving the blade to rest. Then he reached for a platter of stewed rabbit and carrots, training his attention on the wealthy blond lady across from him. Lady Ursula was easy on the eyes, he told himself. He must set his mind to better acquainting himself with her. Or mayhap he could turn his eye to Lady Alynne, who had a sweet countenance and did not chatter quite as much.

“Her face! Why, look at her face,” Lady Ursula gasped, her blue gaze widening. “It’s green and purple! And the cut,” she whispered. “Her majesty’s ring was cruel. Poor Judith. ”

He didn’t turn, yet there was a prickling at the back of his neck. Knowing she was there, and with the king. That does not look like a woman infatuated with her lover. The words hung in his mind, but he dismissed them.