“Yes, my lord,” Simon grinned, revealing two missing teeth. “I’m not so old as I don’t know a good idea when I hear one. The lady’s as smart as she is lovely. Came down here first morning she was here and watched me for a long time. Then, just sweet as can be, she made a few suggestions. Come inside, my lord, and see the new perches I made. Lady Judith said the old ones was the cause of the birds’ sore feet. She said tiny mites get in them and hurt the birds.”
Simon started to lead the way into the building, but Gavin didn’t follow. “Don’t you want to see?” Simon asked sadly.
Gavin hadn’t recovered from the fact that his grizzled falconer had taken advice from a woman. Gavin had tried to make hundreds of recommendations to Simon, as his father had, but to their knowledge, Simon had never done what either man wanted. “No,” Gavin said, “I’ll see later what changes my wife has made.” He could not keep the sarcasm from his voice as he turned on his heel. What right did the woman have to interfere with his mews? Certainly women liked hawking as well as men, and certainly Judith would have her own hawk—but the care of the mews was a man’s work.
“My lord!” a serf girl called, then blushed when Gavin looked at her so fiercely.
She curtsied and held out a mug to him. “I thought perhaps you’d like some refreshment.”
Gavin smiled at the girl. Here at least was a woman who knew how to act properly. He looked into her eyes as he sipped; then his attention was drawn to the drink. It was delicious! “What is this?”
“It’s the spring’s strawberries and the juice of last year’s apples after they are boiled, then a bit of cinnamon.”
“Cinnamon?”
“Yes, my lord. The Lady Judith brought it with her from her home.”
Gavin abruptly thrust the empty mug back at the girl and turned away. Now he was truly starting to get annoyed. Had everyone gone mad? Quickly, he made his way to the far end of the bailey, to his armorer’s. At least in that hot place of forged iron he would be safe from a woman’s interference.
The sight that greeted him was shocking. His armorer, an enormous man, naked from the waist up, muscles bulging from his arms, sat quietly by a window—sewing. “What is this?” Gavin demanded angrily, suspicious already.
The man smiled and held up two small pieces of leather. It was a design for a new hinge that could be used on a knight’s armor. “See, the way this is made, the hinge is much more flexible. Clever, isn’t it?”
Gavin clenched his jaw tightly. “And where did you get this new idea?”
“Why, from the Lady Judith,” the armorer answered, then shrugged when Gavin stormed from the shed.
How dare she! he thought. Who was she to interfere in what was his, to make change after change without so much as asking his approval? These estates were his! If any changes were to be made, they were to be made by him.
He found Judith in the pantry, a vast room attached to the kitchen, kept separate from the house for fear of fire. She was buried, head and shoulders, inside an enormous bin of flour. Her auburn hair was unmistakable. He stood close to her, taking full advantage of his height.
“What have you done to my home?” he bellowed.
Instantly, Judith came out of the bin, narrowly missing banging her head on the cover. In spite of Gavin’s height and his loud voice, she was not afraid of him. Until her wedding less than two weeks ago, she had never been near a man who wasn’t angry. “Your home?” she answered in a deadly voice. “And pray, what am I? The kitchen maid?” she asked as she held out her arms, covered in flour to her elbows.
They were surrounded by castle servants who backed against the walls in fear, but who would not have missed such a fascinating scene for anything.
“You know damn well who you are, but I will not have you interfering in my business. You have altered too many things—my falconer, even my armorer. You are to tend to your own business and not to mine!”
Judith glared up at him. “Then pray tell me what I’m to do if I’m not to speak to the falconer or whoever else needs advisement.”
Gavin was puzzled for a moment. “Why, women’s things. You are to see to women’s things. Sew. See that the maids cook and clean and…make face creams.” He felt the last suggestion was inspired.
Judith’s cheeks blazed, her eyes glittering with little splinters of golden glass. “Face creams!” she snarled. “So now I am ugly and need face creams! Perhaps I should also make lash darkeners and rouges for my pale cheeks.”
Gavin was bewildered. “I didn’t say you were ugly, just that you are not to set my armorer to sewing.”
Judith’s jaw was set firmly. “Then I will not do so again. I will let your armor stay stiff and cumbersome before I talk to the man again. What else may I do to please you?”
Gavin stared at her. The argument was not going his way at all. “The mews,” he said weakly.
“Then I will let your birds die of soft feet. Is there anything else?”
He stood there dumbly with no answer for her.
“Now I assume we understand each other, my lord,” Judith continued. “I am not to protect your hands, I am to let your birds die, and I am to spend my days concocting face creams to cover my ugliness.”
Gavin grabbed her by the upper arm and lifted her from the floor so that they faced each other. “Damn you, Judith, you are not ugly! You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He stared at her mouth, so close to his.