Her eyes softened and her voice was sweeter than honey. “Then I may set my poor brain to something besides beauty enhancers?”
“Yes,” he whispered, weakened by the nearness of her.
“Good,” she said firmly. “Then there is a new arrowhead I should like to talk with the armorer about.”
Gavin blinked in astonishment, then set her on the floor so hard her teeth jarred together. “You will not—” He broke off as he stared at her defiant eyes.
“Yes, my lord?”
He stormed from the kitchen.
Raine sat in the shade of the castle wall, his bandaged leg thrust before him, sipping Judith’s new cinnamon drink and eating rolls still warm from the oven. Every now and then he tried to suppress a chuckle as he watched his brother. Gavin’s wrath was apparent in his every move. He rode his horse as if a demon chased him and thrust his lance viciously through the stuffed quintain that represented his foe.
Already the fight in the pantry was being told and retold. In another day it would reach the king in London. In spite of his mirth, Raine felt sorry for his brother. He’d been bested publicly by a bit of a girl.
“Gavin,” he called. “Give the animal a rest and come sit awhile.”
Reluctantly, Gavin did as his brother bid when he realized that his horse was covered with foam. He threw the reins to his waiting squire and walked tiredly to sit beside his brother.
“Have a drink,” Raine offered.
Gavin started to take the mug then stopped. “Her new drink?”
Raine shook his head at his brother’s tone. “Yes, Judith made it.”
Gavin turned to his squire. “Fetch me some beer from the cellar,” he commanded.
Raine started to speak then saw his brother’s eyes strain across the courtyard. Judith walked from the manor house, across the sand-covered training field toward the line of war-horses tethered at the edge. Gavin’s eyes watched her hotly; then, as she stopped by the horses, he started to rise.
Raine grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him down to the seat again. “Let her alone. You’ll only start another quarrel which you will no doubt lose again.”
Gavin started to speak, then stopped when his squire handed him a mug of beer.
When the boy was gone, Raine spoke again. “Don’t you do anything except bellow at the woman?”
“I don’t—” Gavin began, then stopped and gulped more beer.
“Look at her and tell me one thing that is wrong with her. She is beautiful enough to rival the sun. She works all day to set your home to rights. She has every man, woman and child, including Simon, eating from her hand. Even the war-horses dantily take apples from her palm. She is a woman of humor, and she plays the best damn game of chess in England. What more could you want?”
Gavin had not taken his eyes from her. “What do I know of her humor?” he said bleakly. “She has never even called me by my name.”
“And why should she?” Raine demanded. “When have you ever so much as said a kind word to her? I don’t understand you. I have seen you woo serf girls with more ardor. Doesn’t a beauty like Judith deserve sweet words?”
Gavin turned on him. “I am not a simpleton to be told by a younger brother how to pleasure a woman. I was in women’s beds when you were with your wet nurse.”
Raine did not reply but his eyes were dancing. He refrained from mentioning that there were only four years’ difference in their ages.
Gavin left his brother and went to the manor house where he called for a bath to be prepared. As he sat in the hot water, he had time to think. As much as he hated to admit it, Raine was right. Perhaps Judith did have a reason to be cool to him. Their marriage had started on the wrong foot. It was too bad he had had to strike her on their first night, too bad she had entered his tent at the wrong time.
But that was over now. Gavin remembered how she said he would get nothing from her but what he took. He smiled as he lathered his arms. He’d spent two nights with her and knew she was a woman of great passion. How long could she keep from his bed?
Raine was right, too, when he mentioned his brother’s ability to woo a woman. Two years ago, he’d made a wager with Raine about a certain icy countess. In a surprisingly short time Gavin had climbed into her bed. Was there a woman he could not win when he set his mind to it? It would be a pleasure to bring his haughty wife to heel. He would be sweet to her, court her until she begged him to come to her bed.
Then, he thought, nearly laughing aloud, she would be his. He would own her and she would never again interfere in his life. He would have everything he wanted—Alice to love and Judith to warm his bed.
Clean and dressed in fresh clothes, Gavin felt as if he were a new man. He was elated at the idea of trying to seduce his lovely wife. He found her in the stables, precariously suspended from a high rail of a stall gate, talking soothingly to one of the war-horses as the farrier cleaned and trimmed an overgrown hoof. Gavin’s first thought was to tell her to go away from the beast before she was hurt. Then he relaxed. She was very good with horses.
“He’s not an animal that is easily tamed,” he said quietly as he went to stand beside her. “You have a way with horses, Judith.”