Raine’s eyes blazed. “I would rather have lost a hundred buildings than you.”
Gavin grinned. His even white teeth shone against the blackness of his dirty face. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “But I think I’d rather lose a little flesh than another building.” He turned away and went to direct the men in the dousing of the structure that was next to the one he had hacked to pieces.
Raine shrugged and walked away. Gavin had been master of the Montgomery estate since he was sixteen years old, and he took his responsibility very seriously. What was his was his, and he would fight to the death to keep it. Yet the lowest serf, the worst thief, if they were residents of the Montgomery holdings, would get the fairest treatment from Gavin.
Late at night, Gavin returned to the manor house. He went to the winter parlor, a room off the great hall that served as a family dining room. The floors were covered with thick carpets from Antioch. The room was a recent addition and was paneled with the new linenfold paneling, the walnut carved to look like the draping of fabric. One end of the room was dominated by an enormous fireplace. The stone mantel above was sculpted with the Montgomery leopards.
Raine was already there, clean and dressed in black wool, an enormous silver tray in front of him heaped high with roast pork, chunks of warm bread, dried apples and peaches. He fully planned to eat every pound of the food. He grunted and pointed toward a large wooden tub filled with steaming hot water set before a roaring fire.
Gavin’s fatigue was catching up with him. He slipped off his braies—a tight garment of hose and underpants—and his boots, then slipped into the water. It stung his recently blistered and cut body. A young servant girl appeared out of the shadows and began to wash Gavin’s back.
“Where is Miles?” Raine said between mouthfuls.
“I sent him to Revedoune’s. He reminded me that the engagement was to take place today. He went as my proxy.” Gavin leaned forward, letting the girl wash him. He did not look at his brother.
Raine nearly choked on a piece of pork. “You what!”
Gavin looked up in surprise. “I said I sent Miles as my proxy for the engagement to the Revedoune heiress.”
“Good God, haven’t you any sense at all? You can’t send someone else as if you were purchasing a prize mare. She’s a woman!”
Gavin stared at his brother. The firelight showed the deep hollow in Gavin’s cheek as his jaw muscles began to flex. “I am well aware that she is a woman. If she weren’t, I wouldn’t be forced to marry her.”
“Forced!” Raine leaned back against the chair, incredulous. It was true that while Gavin’s three younger brothers were traveling freely about the country, visiting castles and manors in France and even the Holy Land, Gavin had been chained to a ledger. He was twenty-seven and in eleven years, except for the recent uprising in Scotland, he had hardly left his own home. Gavin did not know that his brothers often made allowances for what they considered his ignorance of women other than the daughters of the lower classes.
“Gavin,” Raine began patiently, “Judith Revedoune is a lady—an earl’s daughter. She has been taught to expect certain things from you, such as courtesy and respect. You should have gone in person to tell her that you wish to marry her.”
Gavin held out his arm as the servant girl ran a soapy cloth over it. The front of her coarse woolen dress was wet, and it clung to her full breasts. He looked into her eyes and smiled at her, beginning to feel the first risings of desire. He glanced back at Raine. “But I don’t want to marry her. Certainly she cannot be so ignorant to think I’m marrying her for any reason besides her lands.”
“You cannot tell her that! You must court her and—”
Gavin rose out of the tub and stood while the girl climbed on a stool and poured warm water over him to rinse him. “She will be mine,” he said flatly. “She will do as I tell her to. I have
seen enough highborn ladies to know what they are like. They sit in their upstairs solars and sew and gossip while they eat honeyed fruit and grow fat. They are lazy and stupid; they have had everything they ever wanted. I know how to treat those women. I sent to London a week ago and ordered some new tapestries from Flanders—something silly like a nymphet cavorting about a woods so she won’t be frightened by scenes of war. I’ll hang them in the solar and give her access to all the silk threads and silver needles she can use, and she will be content.”
Raine sat quietly and thought of the women he had met in his journeys about the country. Most of them were like Gavin’s description, but then there were women of intelligence and fire who were more like companions to their husbands. “What if she wishes to have a hand in the estate affairs?”
Gavin stepped out of the tub and took the soft cotton towel the girl handed him. “She will not interfere in what is mine. She will tend to what I tell her, or she will repent it.”
Chapter Four
SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH THE OPEN WINDOWS, slanting across the rush-covered floor, playing with little dust motes that glittered like specks of gold. It was a perfect spring day, the first of May, the sun shining, the air filled with the sweetness that only spring can bring.
It was a large, open room, half of the entire fourth floor of the half-timbered house. The windows facing south admitted enough light to warm the room. It was a plain room, for Robert Revedoune would not part with money for what he considered frivolous, such as carpets and tapestries.
This morning, though, the room did not look so sparse. Every chair was covered with a splash of color. There were garments everywhere; beautiful, lush, brilliant garments, all new, all part of the dowry of Judith Revedoune. There were silks from Italy, velvets from the Orient, cashmeres from Venice, cottons from Tripoli. Jewels winked everywhere: on shoes, belts, circlets. There were emeralds, pearls, rubies, enamels. And all of it was laid upon a background of fur: sable, ermine, beaver, squirrel, curly black lamb, lynx.
Judith sat alone amid this splendor, so quietly that someone entering the room might not have seen her except that Judith’s person outshone any fabric or jewel. Her little feet were encased in soft green leather, lined and bordered with white ermine, spots of black dotting the fur. Her dress fitted her body tightly about the bodice, the long sleeves draping from wrist to past her waist. The waist was snug, revealing its tininess. The square neckline was low; above it, Judith’s full breasts showed to advantage. The skirt was a soft bell that swayed gently when she walked. The cloth was of gold tissue, fragile and heavy, iridescent and shimmering in the sun. Her waist was encircled with a narrow belt of gold leather set with emeralds. On her brow was a thin cord of gold, a large emerald suspended in the middle. A mantle of emerald-green taffeta hugged her shoulders, fully lined with ermine.
On another woman the sheer brilliance of her green and gold gown might have been overwhelming. But Judith was more beautiful than any gown. She was a small woman with curves to make a man gasp. Her auburn hair hung down her back to her waist, ending in heavy curls. Her strong jaw was set and she held her chin high. Even now as she thought of the dreadful events to come, her lips were full and soft. But her eyes were what riveted attention. They were a rich, deep gold that grabbed the sunlight and reflected it off the gold of her gown.
She turned her head slightly and looked outside at the beautiful day. At any other time she would have been pleased by the weather, wanting to ride across the fields of fragrant flowers. But today she sat very still, careful not to move and crease the gown. It was not the dress that kept her so still, but the heaviness of her thoughts. For today was her wedding day—a day she had long dreaded. This day would end her freedom and all happiness as she knew it.
Suddenly the door burst open and her two maids entered the large room. Their faces were pink from just having raced back from the church where they had gone to get an early look at the groom.
“Oh, my lady,” Maud said. “He is so handsome! He is tall with dark hair, dark eyes and shoulders…!” She held her arms out to their fullest extent. She sighed dramatically. “I don’t see how he managed the doorways. He must turn to the side.” Her eyes danced as she watched her mistress. She did not like to see Judith so unhappy.
“And he walks like this,” Joan said as she threw back her shoulders until the blades nearly touched and took several long, firm strides across the room.