Helen, alarmed, went to her daughter and stood before her. “Don’t tell me you think you are in love with him. Oh Judith, my sweet Judith, have you lived in this house for seventeen years and learned nothing, seen nothing? Your father was the same way once. Although you may not believe it, I was once beautiful and he was pleased with me. This is why I say these things to you. Do you think I want to tell my only child this? I prepared you for the church, to spare you. Please listen to my words. You must establish yourself with him from the first; then he will listen to you. Never show him your fear. When a woman reveals that, it makes the man feel strong. If you make demands from the first, he may listen to you—but soon it will be too late. There will be other women and—”
“No!” Judith shouted.
Helen gave her a look of great sadness. She could not save her daughter from the hurt that awaited her. “I must return to the guests. You will come?”
“No,” Judith said softly. “I will follow in a moment. I must think for a while.”
Helen shrugged and left by the side gate. There was no more she could do.
Judith sat quietly on the stone bench, her knees tucked under her chin. She defended her husband against what her mother said. Over and over she thought of hundreds of ways to show that Gavin was so very unlike her father, most of them created from her imagination.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the gate opening. A thin woman entered the garden. Judith recognized her immediately. She dressed to have people notice her. The left side of her bodice was green taffeta; the right was red. The colors were reversed on her skirt. She moved with an air of purpose. From her hidden bench behind the honeysuckle, Judith watched. Her first impression in the receiving line had been that Alice Valence was beautiful, but now she did not seem so. Her chin appeared weak, her little mouth stingy, as if it would give as little as possible. Her eyes glittered like ice. Judith heard a heavy, male footstep outside the wall, and she moved toward the smaller gate her mother had used. She wanted to give the woman and her lover privacy, but the first words stopped her. It was a voice she had come to recognize.
“Why did you ask me to meet you here?” Gavin asked stiffly.
“Oh, Gavin,” Alice said, her hands going to his arms. “You are so cold to me. Can you have forgotten me? Is your love for this new wife so strong?”
Gavin frowned at her, not touching her, but not moving away either. “You can talk to me of love? I begged you to marry me. I offered to take you without a dowry. I offered to repay your father what he gave to Chatworth, yet still you would not marry me.”
“You hold this against me?” she demanded. “Didn’t I show you the bruises from my father? Didn’t I tell you of the times he locked me away without food or water? What was I to do? I met you when I could. I gave you all I had to give a man, yet this is how I am repaid. Already you love another. Tell me, Gavin, did you ever love me?”
“Why do you talk of my loving another? I haven’t said I love her.” His annoyance remained unabated. “I married because the offer was good. The woman brings riches, lands and a title also, as you yourself pointed out to me.”
“But when you saw her—” Alice said quickly.
“I am a man and she is beautiful. Of course I was pleased.”
Judith meant to leave the garden. Even when she saw her husband with the blonde woman, Judith meant to leave, but it was as if her body turned to stone and she could not move. Each word she heard Gavin speak thrust a knife through her heart. He had begged this woman to marry him and taken Judith, because of her wealth, as a second choice. She was a fool! She had been seeing their touches, their caresses as a spark of love, but it was not so.
“Then you don’t love her?” Alice persisted.
“How could I? I have spent less than a day with her.”
“But you could love her,” Alice said flatly and turned her head to one side. When she looked back at him, there were tears in her eyes—great, lovely, shining tears. “Can you say you will never love her?”
Gavin was silent.
Alice sighed heavily, then smiled through her tears. “I had hoped we could meet here. I had some wine sent.”
“I must return.”
“It won’t take long,” she said sweetly as she led him to a bench against the stone wall.
Judith watched Alice, fascinated. She was watching a great actress. She’d seen the way Alice turned her head and deftly stuck her fingernail in the corner of her eye to produce the needed tears. Alice’s words were melodramatic. Judith watched as Alice seated herself carefully on the bench, avoiding crushing the stiff taffeta of her dress, then poured two goblets of wine. In a slow, elaborate production, she slipped a large ring from her finger, opened the hinged lid and slowly poured a white powder into her drink.
As she began to sip the wine, Gavin knocked the goblet from her hand, sending it flying across the garden. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
Alice leaned languidly against the wall. “I would end it all, my love. I can withstand anything, if it is for us. I can bear my marriage to another, yours to another, but I must have your love. Without it I am nothing.” Her lids dropped slowly and she had a look of such peace, as if she were already one of God’s angels.
“Alice,” Gavin said as he gathered her in his arms, “you cannot mean to take your own life.”
“My sweet Gavin, you don’t understand what love is to a woman. Without it I am already dead. Why prolon
g my agony?”
“How can you say you have no love?”
“You do love me, Gavin? Me and me alone?”