The Velvet Promise (Montgomery/Taggert 2)

“It doesn’t seem to be hurt badly,” he said as he looked back at her.

“No, it doesn’t,” she said quietly.

A sudden breeze blew a lock of hair across her eyes. Gently, Gavin brushed it away. “What do you say I build a fire and we roast that hideous pig?”

She smiled at him. “That would be pleasant.”

He scooped her from the bank, then tossed her playfully in the air. She grabbed his neck in fright. “I could grow to like this fear of yours,” he laughed, as he pressed her to him. He carried her across the stream to a hill which was indeed covered with wildflowers, and built a fire under an overhanging rock ledge. In minutes he returned with a dressed haunch of the boar and set it to roasting over the fire. He wouldn’t let Judith move or help in any way. When the meat was cooking and there was a plentiful supply of firewood, Gavin left her again and returned in moments with his tabard raised about his hips, as if he carried something.

“Close your eyes,” he said, and when she obeyed, he showered her with flowers. “You can’t go to them, so they must come to you.”

She looked at him, her lap and the ground around her covered in a riot of sweet-smelling blossoms. “Thank you, my lord,” she said, smiling brilliantly.

He sat down beside her, one hand behind his back, leaning close to her. “I have another gift,” he said as he held out three fragile columbines to her.

They were beautiful, delicate things of light violet and white. She reached to take them but he moved them from her grasp. She looked at him in surprise.

“They’re not free.” He was teasing her again, but the expression on her face showed him she didn’t know it. He felt a pang of remorse that he had hurt her so badly that she should look at him so. Suddenly Gavin wondered if he were any better than her father. He ran a finger lightly down her cheek. “It’s a small price to pay,” he said gently. “I would like to hear you call me by my name.”

Her eyes cleared and were warm again. “Gavin,” she said quietly as he handed her the flowers. “Thank you, my…Gavin for the flowers.”

He sighed lazily and leaned back on the grass, his hands behind his head. “My Gavin!” he repeated. “It has a nice sound to it.” He moved one hand and idly twisted a curl of her hair about his palm. Her back was to him as she gathered the flowers around and put them into a bouquet. Ever orderly, he thought.

Unexpectedly, it occurred to him that it had been years since he’d had a peaceful day on his own lands. Always the responsibility of the castle had nagged at him, but in a few days his wife had so ordered matters that he could lie about in the grass and think of little but the sound of honeybees and the silky texture of a beautiful woman’s hair.

“Were you really angry about Simon?” Judith asked.

Gavin could barely remember who Simon was. “No,” he smiled. “I just didn’t like a woman to accomplish what I couldn’t. And I’m not so sure that this new lure is better.”

She whirled to face him. “It is! Simon agreed instantly. I’m sure the hawks will catch more game now and—” She stopped when she saw him laughing at her. “You are a vain man.”

“I?” Gavin asked, bracing himself upon his elbows. “I am the least vain of men.”

“Haven’t you just said you were angry because a woman did what you couldn’t?”

“Oh,” Gavin said as he relaxed back on the grass, his eyes shut. “That’s not the same. A man is always surprised when a woman does anything but sew and manage children.”

“You!” Judith said in disgust then grabbed a handful of grass with a clod of dirt attached to it and threw it in his face.

He opened his eyes in surprise then pulled the grime from his mouth. His eyes narrowed. “You will pay for that,” he said as he stealthily moved toward her.

Judith backed away, fearful of the pain she knew he would cause her. She started to rise but he grabbed her bare ankle and held it fast. “No,” she began before he descended on her…and began to tickle her. Judith was surprised as much as anything, then she began to giggle. She drew her knees to her chest to try to keep his hands from her sides, but he was merciless.

“Do you take it back?”

“No,” she gasped. “You are vain—a thousand times more vain than a woman.”

His fingers ran up and down her ribs until she thrashed about under him.

“Please stop,” she cried, “I can’t stand any more!”

Gavin’s hands stilled and he leaned close to her face. “Are you beaten?”

“No,” she said, but added quickly, “though you may not be as vain as I thought.”

“That is a sorry apology.”

“It was made under torture.”