A Lily on the Heath (Medieval Herb Garden 4)

“A tongue-lashing is a small price to pay for such a woman warming your bed,” Castendown replied archly.

“I cannot disagree on that. And as I sore miss the tongue-lashing—and all the good that comes of it later—I am well-pleased she and the babe should arrive at Clarendon within a fortnight. Though if she’s learned from the queen, ’tis likely she’ll travel even faster and may arrive before we return. ”

“In which case you’d receive the tongue-lashing and any necessary mending of your severed limbs,” Mal reminded him dryly.

“Not to mention a warm bed,” Dirick added with a satisfied grin.

Mal laughed, but the exchange with his friend gave him aught to think on in relation to marriage and wives and the benefits and drawbacks of them. He’d met Maris of Ludingdon and had been surprised—and mildly amused—by the obvious delight Dirick felt being wed to her. They were together more often than Mal had ever been with Sarah, or ever wanted to be. Malcolm had done his business, making war and managing the fiefs of Warwick, and Sarah had run the household. They coupled when necessary, ate together when it was convenient, and went their separate ways otherwise…but this was clearly not the case with Dirick and Maris. They were together as oft as Dirick was with his squire—mayhap even more. The flash of an image of Judith, sitting at table in Warwick, came to his mind and he frowned then ignored it.

When the group broke to water the horses and trade a few bites of dried meat and bread, Mal had the opportunity to speak with Nevril about Alpha.

“I left him in the charge of the second marshal,” Mal told his master-at-arms. “But mayhap you should have stayed back, for Alpha knows you and is less like to plant a hoof in your face. ”

Nevril grimaced, causing his scar to stretch taut. “Praise God I did not. Methinks the marshal should manage his own charges. If not,” he said with a shrug, “a hoof on the foot or in the gut is only what the twit deserves. ”

Mal raised his brows, surprised at the vehemence from his normally even-tempered man. “And what is stuck in your craw this day, Nevril? You know as well as I how ornery Alpha can be with anyone—even myself betimes. ”

The man scratched his beard and glared into the wood. “That maid Tabatha seems to think Bruin could walk on water if he chose. A broken foot might teach her otherwise. ”

“Tabatha? Lady Judith’s maid?” Mal frowned. Apparently, even away from Clarendon and the copper-haired witch he was not to have peace from her.

“Aye. That’s the one. She was loitering at the stable again this morrow when I went to get Alpha’s saddle for you. I heard her complainin’ to Bruin that her lady came in very late to the chamber last eve. ”

So it had been Judith he’d seen. “Did the maid know where she’d been, so late in the night? Alone?”

Nevril began to reply, then looked sharply at him. “I ne’er said she was alone, my lord. ”

“You did not need to,” Mal retorted flatly. “I saw her myself—or at the least, I believed it was her. Wrapped in a cloak as she was, hidden under a hood, I wasn’t certain. ” He looked at Nevril expectantly. “But what she would be doing at such an hour, and alone…I cannot guess. ”

“Tabatha did not say whence her lady came. But…she was accompanied by one of the king’s guards. ” Nevril glanced around and stepped closer. His voice dropped low as he said, “Some nights ago, the king came to their chamber. Alone. ”

Malcolm stared at him for a moment as the man’s words sunk in. There was only one reason a man would go to a woman’s chamber alone. “Indeed,” he replied, aware that his expression had gone blank. A loud roaring seemed to fill his ears.

Fool. You fool! You saw the signs.

“The maid insisted I say naught to anyone on it, my lord, for it seemed to upset her—and I have not. Not until this very moment. I do not gossip. But…. ” Nevril’s voice trailed off and he stared into the forest, as if to avoid seeing his master’s face. “I bethought you should know. ”

Mal decided he’d prefer not to understand why his man thought that way. Instead, he nodded and, thankfully, at that moment, Castendown called for the group to mount up again. Mal swung into the saddle of his replacement mount, eager to be on his way—both in thought and in deed.

Praise God I must have naught to do with that woman.

Judith knelt on the cold, hard floor of the chapel.

She held a string of prayer beads formed of stewed and dried rose petals, given her by her cousin Gavin’s wife Madelyne. The faint scent of roses clung to the beads, wafting to Judith’s nose every time she moved from one to the next.

Pater noster, she prayed, eyes closed, head bowed, “qui es in caelis…. ”

The chapel, a small secondary one tucked in a far corner of the keep, was silent and dark. She was alone in the place which had become her sanctuary. Even the king wouldn’t find her here. And if he did, surely even he wouldn’t order her to come to him from a church.

It had been a week since Henry first summoned her to his private chamber. Since then, Judith had spent three more nights with him.

“I cannot cease thinking of you,” the king had told her after the third night they were together. They were abed, furs and cushions mounded around them; some even on the floor, for Henry was a vigorous lover. “You are my obsession, my fiery lady. ”

A silk cloth was her only covering, from waist to foot, and Judith had no choice but to lie there as he trailed a finger over a shoulder and down to circle her breast. Her skin rose in little bumps in its wake.

“You fill my dreams and my thoughts, so that e’en when I meet with my barons or hold court you are never far from my mind. ” He leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of her neck, then her shoulder, his tongue slipping out in a gentle caress. Judith shivered a little, for her skin was sensitive there.

“Why do you never smile when you are here with me?” he demanded. “You are known for your wit and vivacity, and yet you are dull and quiet in my chambers. ”