A Lily on the Heath (Medieval Herb Garden 4)

When she pulled it away, her full lips glistened deliciously and Mal had to avert his gaze. Even unfed and unrested, even wasting away to skin and bones, even painting repulsive mental images of her in her lover’s bed, she was a gloriously beautiful woman. His desire for her washed over him, so strong and deep he could scarcely draw in a normal breath. Dog. You are no better than the king.

“’Tis a shame you’ve set your heart on Beatrice of Delbring,” she said, those lips curving in a humorless smile. “Else I should throw myself on your mercy and beg you to wed me and take me from here, and then no one would know if I carry the king’s babe or nay. I would be quit of him and this court. ” She dug in the packet and pulled out a corner of the bread. “But, nay. Lady Beatrice’s heart is safe. I would not ask that of you—or any man. For the queen’s wrath would come upon you…and the king’s as well. ” She bit her lip and stared down at the crumbling bread. “Henry claims he is quite obsessed with me, and that he shall never tire of my company. ”

Mal was very still for a moment, and then his body rushed alive. Hot and cold and filled with hope, fear…and, God help him, lust.

“What of de Rigonier?” Mal at last found his voice.

Judith looked at him. Her expression had reverted to despair. “I would not ask it of him either. I fear the king and queen would—”

“Nay,” Mal said impatiently. “That is not my meaning. What of you and de Rigonier?” She shook her head, clearly at a loss. He tried again. “You were no virgin in Henry’s bed…was it de Rigonier?”

Her eyes widened. “Nay, of course not. ’Twas Gregory who took my maidenhead—who had the right to do so, as my betrothed. ”

Mal’s tension eased. “You and de Rigonier are not lovers?”

“Nay. ” Even in the dim light, the color rising in her cheeks was obvious. “I may now be called whore, but ’tis only that the king has made me thus. ”

“I will wed you. ”

She stared at him. “Nay, Ma—Warwick. Do not be a fool. ” Her eyes were wide with consternation and regret. She reached to touch him, her small hand resting on his arm. “’Twas a jest. Only a jest. I would not allow it. ”

“Allow it? You?” His laugh rang out, echoing eerily in the small, closed room. Yet, desperation surged through him. To be so close to his desire, to have it within his reach…. He would not allow it to be snatched away. “The king himself has granted me leave to wed where I will. You meet all of the requirements, Lady Judith. I will wed you, and take you from here. And none will know that you carry the king’s babe. I will raise him as my own. And you know I have no aspirations to the throne, nor to such power as a bastard prince would give. ”

“Lord Warwick, I cannot…. ” she began. But she was looking away, down at her fingers twisted and wrapped within her cheese-stained gown. “I could not live, knowing you put yourself at such risk. Nay. We cannot. ”

He could not see her face. But he didn’t care. Reason had deserted him. Reason and prudence. “You said it—’tis the only way you might escape your fate. I will manage it all, Judith. And we will wed. ”

And even as she hesitated…then nodded, glancing at him briefly then looking away once more, Mal hardly noticed. He was flush, alive, alert, victorious.

And if he was no better than the king, at the least he would be entitled to her in his bed in the eyes of God and the Church.

TEN

I will wed you.

Even after Malcolm had gone and Judith was alone, she could not erase those words from her mind. They were the answer to a prayer…a solution of which she’d hardly allowed herself to dream. To be Malcolm of Warwick’s wife.

And yet she could hardly look at him, for fear he’d see the truth in her eyes. How she’d trapped him. Gently, innocently…but entrapped him nevertheless.

Deceitful woman!

I did not intend to lead him that way. She spoke silently, directing her thoughts to the image above her of the Virgin Mary, who surely thought her an unconscionable wench. And truly, Judith hadn’t been thinking clearly when the words poured from her mouth. She hadn’t considered what it would mean to him, putting himself at odds with not only the queen but the king as well. Nay, they had been foolish, capricious words, half in jest, half in despair…her thoughtless mouth running off on its own, leaving her brain behind once again.

And Malcolm, being the honorable man he was, would never deny the chance to assist a lady in distress. It was his responsibility. And part of what made him a good man…a man she had come to care for far deeply than she realized until now. For though he had offered her everything she wanted, she knew she must not accept it, knowing what it could do to him.

Thus, guilt and relief warred with fear and delight. She could be Malcolm’s wife.

Nay, I cannot do this to him. She couldn’t drag him into the mire of her life and affix him alongside her, betwixt the warring faction of queen versus king. He was a powerful lord, a wealthy and important baron—but just as easily, the king could find reason to disseisin him from his lands, to seize Warwick and his other estates. Throw Mal into prison….

Nay, I must not do this to him. Her belly, tight and empty for so long, felt heavy with the stones of nausea and guilt.

Judith felt the cold, hard floor beneath her knees once again as she rose upon them. She clutched the prayer beads so tightly they left marks on her skin. And she prayed for a different way, another answer to her petition. Show me an

other path.

Before Mal left the chapel, he warned Judith to say naught to anyone of their plan to wed. Not even to Tabatha. “I must make careful arrangements,” he said, his face intent, his mind clearly working. “So as not to bring the king’s wrath down on us. ”

“There is naught you can do,” Judith protested. “He will be furious. ” I tried again, she cried silently, arguing with her conscience. I tried to talk him from it, but he would not listen. Foolish, honorable man.