“I don’t know,” Gavin said honestly. “I only eat the stuff, I don’t bake it.”
“You have been eating gold! I shall tend to this straightaway. Why didn’t you show me this before?”
“Because, dear wife, I thought I could run my life on my own. Pity any man who thinks so.”
She stared at him. “I will find this baker!” she said as she started to leave the tent.
“Shouldn’t you take your knitting? Perhaps you won’t find enough to occupy you.”
Judith looked over her shoulder at Gavin and saw he was teasing her. She re
turned his smile, then picked up the ball of yarn and tossed it to him. “Perhaps you are the one who needs occupation.” She glared pointedly at the ledgers, then left the tent.
Gavin sat and held the yarn for a moment, turning it around in his hands. The tent was too empty when she was gone. He went to the open flap and leaned against the pole, watching her. She never screamed at a servant, but somehow she got more work out of them than he ever had. She took care of the food, the laundry, the setting up of camp, everything, with ease. Yet she never showed any strain and one would never guess she managed six things at once.
She finished talking to the man whose cart was loaded with bread. The short, fat man went away, shaking his head, and Gavin smiled in amusement. He knew just how the baker felt. How many times had Gavin been right yet felt he’d lost the argument? Judith could twist words around until a person couldn’t remember his own thoughts.
Gavin watched her walk about the camp. She stopped to taste the stew in a pot, spoke to Gavin’s squire where the boy sat on a stool polishing his master’s armor. The boy nodded and smiled at her, and Gavin knew there would be some small change made in the simple procedure. And the change would be for the better. Never had he lived or traveled in such comfort—and with such little effort made on his part. He remembered the times he left his tent in the morning and stepped into a pile of horse manure. Now he doubted if Judith allowed the muck to hit the ground. His camp was the cleanest he had ever seen.
Judith felt him staring at her and turned and smiled, looking away from the chickens she inspected. Gavin felt his chest tighten. What did he feel for her? Did it matter that even now she carried another man’s child? All he knew was that he wanted her.
He walked across the grass and took her arm. “Come inside with me.”
“But I must—”
“You would rather stay outside?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
She smiled delightedly. “No, I don’t think so.”
They made love leisurely, savoring each other’s bodies until their passion mounted. This was what Gavin loved about making love to Judith. The variety. She never seemed to be the same twice. One time she would be quiet and sensual, the next aggressive and demanding. At other times she would be laughing and teasing, another acrobatic, experimental. But no matter how she was, he loved loving her. Even the thought of touching her excited him.
Now he held her close, his nose buried in her hair. She moved against him as if she could get closer to him; it was not possible. He kissed the top of her head drowsily and fell asleep.
“You are falling in love with him,” Joan said the next morning as she combed her mistress’s hair. The light through the tent walls was soft and dappled. Judith wore a dress of soft green wool, a braided leather belt about her waist. Even in the simple, unadorned traveling garment, her skin glowed and her eyes were all the jewels she needed.
“I assume you refer to my husband.”
“Oh, no,” Joan said nonchalantly. “I meant the pie man.”
“And how…can you tell?”
Joan didn’t answer.
“Isn’t it right for a woman to love her husband?”
“It is if the love is returned. But be careful and don’t fall so hard for him that you are torn apart if he is untrue.”
“He has hardly been out of my sight,” Judith said in his defense.
“True, but what of when you are at the king’s court? You won’t be alone with Lord Gavin then. There will be the most beautiful women in England. Any man’s eyes would stray.”
“Be quiet!” Judith commanded. “And tend to my hair.”
“Yes, my lady,” Joan said mockingly.
All day, as they traveled, Judith thought of Joan’s words. Was she beginning to fall in love with her husband? She had seen him once in another woman’s arms. She had been angry then but angry at the fact that he paid her so little respect. But now the idea of seeing him with another woman made her feel as if little slivers of ice were being driven through her heart.
“Judith, are you well?” Gavin asked from the horse beside her.