Judith managed to smile at this man of treachery, even as she twisted away from the hands about her waist. “You flatter me, my lord,” she said, while looking at him through her lashes.
Walter was enchanted. “You must be tired and in need of refreshment. We would have had food prepared, but you weren’t expected.”
Judith didn’t want him to think about why she came without a request. As she watched Walter’s adoring look, she knew she would do well in establishing herself to be a shy young woman, the bashful bride. “Please,” she said, her head bowed, “I would like to see my mother.”
Walter didn’t answer, but continued staring at her, her thick lashes touching her soft cheek, the pearls on her forehead echoing the creaminess of her skin.
John Bassett stepped forward, his jaw rigid. He was a big man, as tall as Gavin, but heavier with age. The steel-gray of his hair only emphasized the hardness of his body. “The lady wishes to see her mother,” he said sternly. His voice was even, but it radiated power.
Walter hardly noticed John, he was too enraptured with Judith. But Arthur was very aware of him and recognized danger. John Bassett would need to be disposed immediately. Given the freedom of the castle, such a man could cause much trouble.
“Of course, my lady,” Walter said, holding his arm out to her. One would have thought her visit was one of pleasure.
They made their way to the second-floor entrance of the tower; for in time of battle, the wooden steps were cut away to make the entrance several feet from the ground. Judith studied the interior as they walked across the great hall toward the stone steps. It was a filthy place, littered with bits of bone among the dry rushes on the floor. Dogs lazily nosed about the refuse. The deeply recessed windows had no wooden shutters, and in places the stones had fallen away, because the chinking was crumbling. She wondered if such a poor structure was indicative of the guardianship of the place. She meant to find out.
Helen sat in a chair in a little room cut into the thick stone walls on the third floor. Charcoal burned in a brass brazier; the tower had been built before fireplaces were known.
“Mother!” Judith whispered and ran forward to place her head against her mother’s knees.
“My daughter,” Helen gasped, then pulled Judith into her arms. It was a while before their tears quieted enough so they could speak. “You are well?”
Judith nodded, then looked past her mother to the men who stood there. “Are we to have no privacy?”
“Of course,” Walter said then turned toward the door. “You will leave also,” he said to John Bassett.
“No. I will not leave my lady alone.”
Walter frowned, but he didn’t want to upset Judith in any way.
“You should have left with them,” Judith said sternly when Walter and Arthur were gone.
John sat heavily in a chair by the charcoal brazier. “I will not leave you alone.”
“But I wish for some privacy with my mother!”
John neither spoke nor looked at her.
“He is a stubborn man,” Judith said disgustedly to Helen.
“Is it stubborn when I don’t let you have your way at all times?” he asked. “You are stubborn enough to rival a bull.”
Judith opened her mouth to speak, but Helen’s laugh stopped her.
“You are indeed well, my daughter.” She turned to John. “Judith is all I have ever wanted her to be, and more,” she said fondly, stroking her daughter’s hair. “Now tell me why you are here.”
“I…Oh, Mother,” she began, tears starting in her eyes again.
“Wh
at is it? You can speak freely.”
“No, I cannot!” she said passionately as she looked over at John so close by.
John gave her a look of such blackness that she was almost afraid of him. “Do not doubt my honesty. Talk to your mother. No word of what I hear will be repeated.”
Knowing she could trust him, Judith relaxed as she sat on a cushion at her mother’s feet. She wanted to talk, desperately needed to talk. “I have broken a vow to God,” she said softly.
Helen’s hand paused for a moment on her daughter’s head. “Tell me of it,” she whispered.