Judith laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “Is there ever anything that one brother does that the others don’t know about?”
“Not much,” Raine said then looked over her head to Miles. “There is the question of course of where our little brother spent last night.”
“With Joan,” Judith said before she thought.
Raine’s eyes danced in laughter while Miles’s were, as usual, unreadable.
“I…know because Joan had a lot to say about him,” said Judith, stammering.
Raine’s dimples deepened. “Don’t let Miles scare you. He is very curious as to what the woman said.”
Judith smiled. “I will tell you the next time I see you. Perhaps I can encourage you to visit sooner than you planned.”
“Well said!” Raine laughed. “Now, in truth, we must go. We wouldn’t be welcome at court unless we paid our own way, and I cannot afford the extra expense.”
“He is rich,” Miles said. “Don’t let him fool you.”
“Neither of you fool me. Thank you both for all your time and concern. Thank you for listening to my problems.”
“Shall we all cry, when we could be kissing this delicious woman?” Miles asked.
“You are right for once, little brother,” Raine said as he lifted Judith from the ground and planted a hearty kiss on her cheek.
Miles took her next and laughed at his brother. “You don’t know how to treat a woman,” he said as he gathered Judith in his arms and gave her mouth a very unbrotherly kiss.
“You forget yourself, Miles,” came a deadly voice.
Judith broke away from her brother-in-law to see Gavin staring at them, his eyes dark.
Raine and Miles exchanged looks. It was the first time that Gavin had ever shown any real jealousy. “Put her down before he draws a sword on you,” Raine said.
Miles held Judith for a moment longer and looked down at her. “She might be worth it.” He set her gently on the ground.
“We will see you again soon,” Raine told Gavin. “Perhaps at Christmas we can get together. I should like to see that Scottish lady Stephen is to marry.”
Gavin placed a possessive hand on Judith’s shoulder and drew her close to him. “At Christmas,” he said. His brothers mounted their horses and rode away.
“You aren’t really angry?” Judith asked.
“No,” Gavin sighed. “But I didn’t like seeing a man touch you—even my own brother.”
Judith took a deep breath. “If they come at Christmas, the baby will be born then.”
The baby, Gavin thought. Not “my baby” or “our baby,” but “the baby.” He didn’t like to think of the child. “Come, we must break camp. We have stayed here too long.”
Judith followed him, blinking back tears. They didn’t mention the time at Demari’s castle nor did they talk of the baby. Should she tell him that the child could only be his? Should she plead with him to listen to her, to believe her? She could count days and tell him how far along she was, but once Gavin had hinted that she might have slept with Demari at her wedding. She returned to the tent to direct the maids in the packing.
They made camp early that night. There was no hurrying to reach London, and Gavin enjoyed the time on the journey. He had begun to feel close to his wife. They often talked as if they were friends. Gavin found himself sharing childhood secrets with her, telling her of the fears he’d had when his father died and left him with so much land to manage.
He sat now at a table, a ledger open before him. Every penny spent must be recorded and accounted for. It was a tedious job, but his steward had fallen ill with some fever, and Gavin could not trust one of his knights’ ciphering.
He took a drink from a mug of cider and looked across the room to his wife. She sat on a stool by the open tent flap, a ball of blue yarn in her lap. Her hands struggled with a long pair of knitting needles. As he watched, she made more and more of a mess. Her lovely face was contorted with the effort, the tiny tip of her tongue showing between her lips. He looked again at the books and realized that her attempt at knitting was an effort to please him. He had told her often enough of his displeasure when she interfered in the castle business.
Gavin smothered a laugh as she snarled at the yarn and muttered something beneath her breath. He calmed himself. “Judith,” he said, “perhaps you can help me. You don’t mind setting that aside?” he asked with all the seriousness he could muster. He tried not to smile as she eagerly tossed the yarn and needles against the tent wall.
Gavin pointed to the ledger. “We’ve spent too much on this journey, but I don’t know why.”
Judith pulled the ledger around. Here at least was something she understood. She ran her fingers down the columns, her eyes moving from one side to another. She stopped suddenly. “Five marks for bread! Who has been charging so much?”