And there would be Gavin! Ah yes, she had arranged that also. That red-headed whore had had him too long. Gavin was hers and he would remain so. If she could get rid of that wife of his, then he would be hers entirely. He would not deny her gowns of gold cloth. No, Gavin would deny her nothing. Had she not always gotten what she wanted? Now she wanted Gavin Montgomery again, and she would get him.
Someone walking across the courtyard caught her attention. Jocelin made his way to the stairs leading to the top of the wall, a leather sachel over his shoulder.
“You have done me a great favor,” she whispered. “And now I will repay you.” She did not call the guards. Instead, she stood silently, planning what she would do now that she was free of Edmund. Jocelin had given her much—access to great wealth—but most of all, he had given her Gavin.
Chapter Twenty-Three
IT WAS HOT IN THE TENT. GAVIN COULDN’T SLEEP. HE stood and looked down at Judith, sleeping peacefully, one bare shoulder exposed above the linen sheet. Quietly, he drew on his clothes, smiling at his wife’s still form. They’d spent a good part of the evening making love, and now she was exhausted. But he was not. No, far from it. Loving Judith seemed to set a spark to him and light a fire that was unquenchable.
He took a velvet mantle from a chest, then pulled the sheet from her and wrapped her in the cloak. She snuggled against him like a child—never waking, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. He carried her out of the tent, nodded to the guards on duty and walked toward the forest. He bent his head and kissed her sleep-softened mouth.
“Gavin,” she murmured.
“Yes, it’s Gavin.”
She smiled against his shoulder, her eyes never opening. “Where are you taking me?”
He chuckled and held her closer. “Do you care?”
She smiled broader, her eyes still closed. “No, I do not,” she whispered.
He laughed, deep in his chest. At the side of the river he sat her down and she gradually began to wake. The coolness of the air, the sound of the water and the sweetness of the grasses added to the dreamlike quality of the situation.
Gavin sat beside her, not touching her. “You once said you broke a vow to God. What vow was it?” He tensed for her answer. They had not spoken again of the time at Demari’s, yet Gavin wanted to know what befell her there. He wanted her to deny what he knew to be true. If she loved Demari, why had she killed him? And if she did go to another man, wasn’t it Gavin’s own fault? He knew the vow she broke was the one she made before a priest and hundreds of witnesses.
The darkness covered Judith’s blushes. She was unaware of Gavin’s train of thought. She remembered only that she had gone to him before he left for battle.
“Am I such an ogre that you cannot tell me?” he asked quietly. “Tell me this one thing, and I’ll ask nothing more of you.”
It was a private thing to her, but it was true; he had asked her little. There was a full moon and the night was bright. She kept her eyes turned away from his. “I made a vow to you at our wedding and…I broke it.”
He nodded; it was as he feared.
“I knew I broke it when I came to you that night,” she continued. “But that man had no right to say we didn’t sleep together. What was between us was ours to deal with.”
“Judith, I don’t understand you.”
She looked at him, startled. “I speak of the vow. Didn’t you ask me of it?” She saw he still didn’t understand. “In the garden, when I saw you and—” She broke off and looked away. The memory of Alice in his arms was still vivid to her, and much more painful now than it was then.
Gavin stared at her, trying to remember. When it finally came to him, he began to chuckle.
Judith turned on him, her eyes blazing. “You laugh at me?”
“Yes, I do. Such a vow of ignorance! You were a virgin when you made it. How were you to know what pleasures were to be had in my bed, and that you couldn’t keep yourself away from me?”
She glared at him, then stood. “You are a vain and insufferable man. I give you my confidence, and you laugh at me!” She threw her shoulders back, the mantle wrapped tightly about her, and arrogantly started to walk away from him.
Gavin, with a lecherous grin on his face, gave one powerful tug to the cloak and pulled it off her. Judith gasped and tried to cover herself. “Will you go back to camp now?” he taunted, rolling the velvet mantle and placing it behind his head.
Judith looked at him, stretched out on the grass, not even looking at her. So! he thought he had won, did he?
Gavin lay quietly, expecting any moment that she would return and beg him for her clothes. He heard a great deal of rustling in the bushes and smiled confidently. She was too modest to return to camp without her clothes. There was silence for a moment, then he heard a rhythmic movement of leaves, as if…
He was on his feet in an instant, following the sound. “Why you little minx!” he laughed as he stood before his wife. She wore a very concealing gown of tree leaves and the branches of several shrubs. She smiled up at him in triumph.
Gavin put his hands on his hips. “Will I ever win an argument with you?”
“Probably not,” Judith said smugly.