The woman stopped and gaped when she saw Judith standing there with Violet, and all at once the woman was curtsying and bowing. “Oh, my lady, oh, I am so sorry! Oh, my lady, please forgive me…I did not mean…. ”
“Violet!” called a deep voice, and just then Sir Nevril came barreling around the corner of the nearby stable. Judith was surprised to see Tabatha in his wake, followed by two other men-at-arms.
When they saw her, both Tabatha and Nevril froze, their eyes going from Judith to Violet to the older lady and back again. The other men stumbled to a halt, and everyone seemed to be looking around as if lost.
“What is the meaning of this?” Judith asked sharply. She felt as if she’d walked into the middle of a chamber and everyone had stopped talking at the sight of her—not so very different from the way she’d felt that night at Clarendon when it first became known she was the king’s mistress. ’Twas not a pleasant feeling.
“’Tis nothing, my lady,” Tabatha said, speaking first after exchanging a glance with Nevril. “Clara was watching little mistress Violet, and she somehow slipped away. I hope she wasn’t—uh—bothering you. ”
“Come now, little poppet,” crooned the other woman hopefully—presumably the erstwhile Clara—as she crooked her finger at the girl.
“I am Lady Violet,” said the urchin, her hands going to her hips. “Lady Violet de Monde!”
Everything stopped at that moment. Judith’s breath caught and she looked at the horror-stricken faces around her. Something inside her pitched unpleasantly, and she turned to look at the girl. Bending so they were nearly eye-to-eye, she said, “What is your papa’s name, Lady Violet?”
“Lord Malcolm de Monde, Lord of Warwick,” pronounced the little girl proudly.
Judith straightened abruptly and looked around at the circle of guilt-ridden faces surrounding her. “I see,” was all she said. Her mind was awhirl, her insides a storm. “And how long have you been here at Lilyfare?”
This question was not directed at the girl, but instead at Sir Nevril—who seemed the most likely person to have a truthful answer.
“My lady,” Tabatha said, putting out a hand as if to shield Nevril from needing to respond.
But he would have naught of it. He stepped forward, pushing Tabby behind him as he bowed to Judith. He shifted himself protectively in front of Violet, who’d been dragged firmly to Clara’s side by the wide-eyed woman. “My lady, please do not take your fury on the girl or her nurse,” he said. “’Tis only the fault of me, for I was supposed to be watching her whilst—”
“Silence!” Judith ordered. “I do not wish to hear any explanation or excuses. ” For the only person on whom she would take her fury would be Lady Violet’s “poppy. ”
Judith looked down at Violet, who did not appear to be cowed by the tension going on around her. “I shall see you on the morrow, Lady Violet. Here. Just after the midday meal. And I shall properly introduce you to Hecate. ”
With that, she spun about and stalked off.
&
nbsp; “Tell me what you know of Violet,” Judith demanded of Tabatha later that evening.
“What do you mean, my lady?” said the maid, industriously shaking one of the bed coverings out the chamber window. Summer was waning and soon the cool days of autumn would fall. She’d replaced the bed curtains with ones of heavier material to keep the cold out, and now fur blankets would cover the mattress.
But Judith would have none of her evasion, and when she did not respond other than slamming down a metal goblet on the table, Tabatha turned slowly. She held the fur blanket in a bundle protectively against her middle as she looked at her mistress. Then, drawing in a deep breath, she exhaled and said, “I do not know much, my lady. Truly. Other than what Nevril has told me. ”
“And so it is Nevril now—no longer Sir Rabbit Stew?” Judith’s tones were sharper than usual. Knowing she was in a bad temper did little to alleviate it, for after meeting Violet, she had spent much of the day stewing about the situation and the mood had settled over her like a heavy cloud.
“Aye,” replied Tabby. Her eyes were downcast and her cheeks flushed pink. “He has asked me to wed him…. ”
“A man of war? A man in chain mail? Surely you set him on the right path and told him nay. ” Judith heard how brittle her voice was, but at the moment, she simply couldn’t care. She was empty, bereft, confused.
“Uhm…. ” Tabatha was silent for a moment, then she turned. “I agreed. To wed him. ”
“Indeed. And when were you going to approach me on this subject? Or was this meant to be yet another secret kept from me?”
Tabby shook her head, misery in every element of her posture. “Ah, my lady. ’Twas only just this morrow that he asked me. And then…everything happened. Now he fears you will not allow us to wed, and you will send everyone from Warwick away. ”
Judith hmphed. The thought had indeed crossed her mind during the fit of rage that caught her up some time ago. But of course that was not practical. Nor was it necessary. Still. Once roused, she had a temper to match her flaming hair, and Nevril was right to be wary of her—at the least until her husband was there to bear the brunt of her fury, hurt and confusion.
Would he never return?
“What do you know of Violet? Why is she here? And why was her presence and identity kept from me?”
The maid snapped the fur covering over the bed and watched it settle into place. “Lord Malcolm sent her here, to be away from Warwick. He commanded that she be kept from your sight and out of your way. I do not know why, my lady,” Tabby added quickly as Judith opened her mouth to speak. “I truly do not. ”