The Velvet Promise

by Jude Deveraux

  “Are you saying soft words to me in hopes that I won’t be cold in bed?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I say soft words because I feel them. I don’t wish them thrown back at me.”

  “I…apologize. It was unkind of me.”

  He kissed her again. “I will think of some way for you to apologize for your hasty temper.”

  Judith giggled and he smiled warmly at her, his hand caressing her temple. “Come with me—or I’ll take you in the king’s garden.”

  She looked about the dark place, as if considering.

  “No,” he laughed. “Don’t tempt me.” He took her hand and led her up the stairs to the top floor of the manor house. The enormous room had been divided into small bedrooms for the night by folding oak screens.

  “My lady,” Joan said sleepily when she heard them approach.

  “You won’t be needed tonight,” Gavin said in dismissal.

  Joan rolled her eyes and slipped away through the maze of screens.

  “She has her eye on your brother,” Judith said.

  Gavin raised one eyebrow. “Why should you care what Stephen does with his nights?”

  Judith smiled up at him. “You waste ours in needless talk. I’ll need help with these buttons.”

  Gavin was becoming quite efficient at undressing his wife. When he started to fling his own clothes away, Judith whispered, “Let me. I will be your squire tonight.” She unbuckled the belt that held the doublet over his hard, flat stomach and slipped it over his head. The long-sleeved tunic came next, baring his chest and the upper part of his thighs between the hose and the brief undergarments.

  A fat candle burned by the bed and she pushed Gavin toward it, looking at his body with interest. Judith had explored him with her hands but never so thoroughly with her eyes. Her fingertips ran over the muscles of his arm, and his rippling stomach.

  “Do I please you?” he asked, his eyes dark.

  She smiled at him. At times he could be a little boy, worried whether he pleased her or not. She didn’t answer but moved down on the bed and untied the hose, pulling them away from his heavily muscled legs. He lay very still, as if afraid to break the spell. She ran her hands from his feet to the sides of his hips, and deftly untied the linen braies. Her hands roamed over his body.

  “You please me,” she said as she kissed him. “Do I please you?”

  He couldn’t answer but pushed her to the bed and moved on top of her. His passion was such that he could not wait for her long, but Judith also needed him as fiercely as he needed her.

  Later, Gavin held her closely in his arms as he heard her quiet, even breathing of sleep. When had he fallen in love with her? he wondered. Perhaps he was in love with her when he’d first taken her home and left her on the doorstep. He smiled in memory of how angry he’d been because she’d dared defy him. He kissed her sleeping forehead. Judith would defy him when she was ninety, he thought, looking forward to the idea.

  And what of Alice? When had he ceased to love her? Had he ever loved her? Or had it been a young man’s passion for a beautiful woman? She was beautiful, it was true, and tonight he’d been startled when he saw her again, somewhat overwhelmed by her radiance. Alice was a kind and gentle woman, as sweet as Judith was acid, but in the last few months he’d grown to love a bit of vinegar with his food.

  Judith moved in his arms and he pulled her closer. He accused her of dishonesty but he didn’t really believe his own words. If she carried another man’s child, then she had conceived it while trying to protect her husband. Misguided, surely, but her heart was always good. She would give up her own life to save her mother, and even a husband who abused her.

  He held her so tightly that she woke, fighting for breath.

  “You are strangling me!” she gasped.

  He kissed her nose. “Have I ever told you that I like vinegar?”

  She gave him a blank look.

  “What sort of wife are you?” Gavin demanded. “Don’t you know how to help a husband sleep?” He rubbed his hips against hers and her eyes widened. “To sleep so would cause me much pain. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

  “No,” she whispered, her eyes half-closed. “You shouldn’t have to bear such pain.”

  Gavin was the one who was aroused and Judith lay still in a coma of red and silver light as he ran his hands over her body. It was as if he’d never touched her before, and her body was completely new to her. After his hands became familiar with her soft, smooth skin, he started exploring again with his eyes.

  Judith cried out in desperate longing for him, but he only laughed at her and pushed her hands away from his shoulders. When she was trembling with desire, he entered her and they came together almost instantly. They fell asleep, joined, Gavin still on top of her.

  When Judith woke the next morning, Gavin was gone and the bed felt cold and empty. Joan helped her dress in a gown of maroon velvet, the neckline square and cut very low. Her sleeves were lined with fox. Across her breast and around her waist were gold cords, fastened at the shoulder with a diamond brooch. At supper there’d been talk of a day’s hawking, and she wished to join the hunt.

  Gavin met her at the foot of the stairs, his eyes dancing in delight. “You’re a sleepy one. I’d hoped to find you still in bed, and perhaps join you there.”

  She smiled teasingly. “Shall I return?”

  “No, not now. I have some news for you. I have spoken to the king, and he agrees to allow John Bassett to marry your mother.” King Henry was a Welshman, a descendant of commoners.

  She stared at him.

  “Doesn’t that please you?”

  “Oh, Gavin!” she said and launched herself from the steps into his arms. Her arms were so tight about his neck, that he nearly choked. “Thank you. Many thousands of times, thank you.”

  He laughed and hugged her closer to him. “If I’d thought your reaction would have been like this, I would have talked to the king last night.”

  “You couldn’t have handled more last night,” Judith said flatly.

  He laughed and squeezed her until she cried for release, her ribs nearly breaking. “You don’t think so?” Gavin challenged. “Goad me some more and I’ll take you upstairs and keep you there until you are too sore to walk.”

  “Gavin!” she gasped, her face red. She looked around to see if anyone was listening.

  He chuckled and kissed her lightly.

  “My mother knows of her marriage?”

  “No, I thought maybe you’d like to tell her.”

  “I’m ashamed to say I don’t even know where she is.”

  “I sent John to look after the lodging of my men. I would imagine your mother to be somewhere near him.”

  “True, she doesn’t often leave his side. Gavin, thank you. It was very kind of you to grant me this favor.”

  “I wish I could grant you everything that you wanted,” he said softly.

  She looked at him in wonder.

  “Go then,” he smiled. “Tell your mother, then join me in the courtyard for the hunt.” He set her down, then gazed at her with concern. “You are well enough to ride?”

  It was the first time that he had mentioned the child in any way but anger. “Yes,” she smiled. “I’m quite well. Queen Elizabeth says the exercise will do me good.”

  “Just be sure you don’t overdo,” Gavin cautioned.

  She smiled and turned away, her mind warm from his concern. She felt light with happiness.

  Judith walked down the stairs and out of the great hall. The enormous castleyard that stood inside the guarded walls was filled with people. The noise was nearly deafening as men and women shouted to servants and servants yelled at each other. Everything seemed so disorganized that Judith wondered how anything got done. A long building stood at the end of the courtyard. Horses pranced about outside, held by their grooms. It was obviously the stables.

  “Ah, if it isn’t little Miss Red-Hair,” came a purring voice that halted Judith instantly. “Ar
e you on your way to some tryst with a lover, perhaps?”

  Judith stopped and stared at Alice Chatworth. Her enemy—face to face.

  “I’m sure you must remember me,” Alice said sweetly. “We met at your wedding.”

  “I’m sorry I was not able to attend yours, although Gavin and I shared your message of undying love,” Judith returned in kind.

  Alice’s eyes shot blue fire, her body stiffened. “Yes, it is too bad it all ended so soon.”

  “Ended?”

  Alice smiled. “Haven’t you heard? My husband, poor dear, was murdered in his sleep. I’m a widow now, and free. Oh yes, very free. I assumed Gavin told you. He was most interested in my…ah…new status.”

  Judith turned on her heel and stalked away. No, she hadn’t known Alice was no longer married. Now all that stood between Alice and Gavin was herself. No Edmund Chatworth hindered them.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  JUDITH CONTINUED TO WALK TOWARD THE STABLES, BUT she had no idea where she was going. Her mind was only aware of the fact that Alice Chatworth was a widow.

  “Judith.”

  She looked up and managed to smile at her mother.

  “Will you ride in the hunt today?”

  “Yes,” she said, the joy gone from her day.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Judith tried to smile. “I lose my mother—that’s all. Did you know that Gavin has given permission for your marriage to John Bassett?”

  Helen stared at her daughter. She neither spoke nor smiled. Slowly, the color drained from her face. She fell forward into her daughter’s arms.

  “Help!” Judith managed to gasp.

  A tall young man who was nearby ran to her and quickly lifted Helen.

  “To the stables,” directed Judith, “out of the sun.”

  Once in the shade, Helen began to recover almost instantly.

  “Mother, you are well?”

  Helen looked meaningfully at the young man.

  He understood the look. “I’ll leave you alone,” he said and walked away before Judith could even thank him.

  “I…didn’t know,” Helen began. “I mean I didn’t know Lord Gavin even knew of my love for John.”

  Judith stopped herself from laughing aloud. “I asked him some time ago for permission, but he wanted to consult the king. Yours will be an unusual wedding.”

  “And soon enough,” Helen murmured.

  “Soon—? Mother!”

  Helen smiled like a child caught in some mischief. “It’s true—I bear his child.”

  Judith sank into a pile of hay. “Shall we deliver together?” she asked in wonder.

  “Close.”

  Judith laughed. “Arrangements must be made quickly, so the baby will be able to claim a name.”

  “Judith!” She looked up to see Gavin coming toward them. “A man said your mother took ill.”

  She rose and took his arm. “Come, we must talk.”

  Moments later, Gavin shook his head in disbelief. “And to think I believed John Bassett to be a sensible man!”

  “He’s in love. Men and women do unusual things when they’re in love.”

  Gavin looked at her eyes, the gold especially brilliant in the sunlight. “I’m well aware of that.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was a widow?” Judith asked quietly.

  “Who?” he asked, honestly puzzled.

  “Alice! Who else?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t think to tell you.” He smiled. “I find I have other thoughts when you are near me.”

  “Are you trying to change the subject?”

  He grabbed Judith by the shoulders, lifting her from the ground. “Damn you! It’s not I who am obsessed with the woman, but you. If I cannot reason with you, I’ll try to shake some sense into you. Would you like to be shaken in public?”

  He shook his head in wonder when she smiled at him sweetly. “I would rather attend the hunt. Perhaps you could help me mount my horse?”

  He stared at her a moment, then set her down. He would never understand women.

  The hunt was exhilarating to Judith, the little tiercel hawk on a perch on her saddle. Her hawk brought down three cranes, and she was well pleased with the day’s hunting.

  Gavin wasn’t as lucky. He was barely in his saddle when he received a whispered message from a maid. Stephen wished to meet with him on some private matter when they were two miles outside the castle walls. His brother asked that he tell no one about the meeting—even his wife. Gavin was puzzled by the message as it didn’t sound like Stephen. He left the hunting party while Judith was engrossed in the flight of her tiercel, cursing his brother under his breath for taking him away from such a lovely sight.

  Gavin didn’t ride directly to the place indicated but tied his horse some distance away and approached cautiously, sword drawn.

  “Gavin!” Alice said, her hand to her breast. “You gave me a terrible fright.”

  “Where is Stephen?” Gavin asked, still looking about the place warily.

  “Gavin, please put your sword away. You frighten me!” Alice smiled, but her eyes didn’t look fearful.

  “You have called me, and not Stephen?”

  “Yes, it was the only way I knew to get you here.” She lowered her eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t come for me alone.”

  Gavin sheathed his sword. It was a quiet and secluded place, much like the one where she used to meet him.

  “Ah, so you think of that time also. Come, sit by me. We have a lot to talk about.”

  He stared at her and without wanting to he began to compare her to Judith. Alice was pretty, yes, but her little mouth with its closed-lip smile seemed ungenerous—stingy, almost. Her blue eyes rather reminded him of ice rather than sapphires. And the red, orange and green she wore seemed gaudy instead of brilliant, as he used to think of her clothes.

  “Have things changed so much that you sit so far away from me?”

  “Yes, they have.” Gavin didn’t see the brief frown that crossed her pale brow.

  “Are you still angry with me? I’ve told you over and over that I was married against my will to Edmund. But now that I am a widow we—”

  “Alice,” he interrupted, “please don’t talk of that again.” He had to tell her, and he dreaded hurting her. She was so soft and delicate, so unable to take the pain of life. “I will not leave Judith, neither through annulment nor divorce nor any other unnatural means.”

  “I…don’t understand. There is a chance for us now.”

  He put his hand over hers in her lap. “No, there is not.”

  “Gavin! What are you saying?”

  “I have grown to love her,” he said simply.

  Alice’s eyes blazed at him a moment before she recovered her temper. “You said you would not. On your wedding day you promised me that you wouldn’t love her.”

  Gavin almost smiled in memory. Two vows had been made that day. Judith had vowed to give him only what he took. How deliciously she had broken that vow! And he, too, had broken his. “Don’t you remember that you threatened to take your own life? I would have done or said most anything to keep you from doing that.”

  “But now you no longer care what I do with my life?”

  “No! It’s not that. You know you will always have a place in my heart. You were my first love, and I will never forget you.”

  Alice looked up at him, wide-eyed. “You talk as if I were already dead. Tell me, has she taken all your heart that I can have none?”

  “I told you that you had a part, Alice, don’t do this to us. You must accept what has happened.”

  Alice smiled, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. “Should I accept it with the fortitude of a man? But Gavin, I’m a woman—a frail and fragile woman. Your heart may be cold to me, but mine is only warmer at seeing you again. Do you know what it was like being married to Edmund? He treated me like a servant, locked me in my room continually.”

  “Alice—”

  “And can you g
uess why? Because at your wedding he had me watched. Yes, he knew when we went alone to the garden. He knew the times when I was alone with you in your tent. Remember the time you kissed me with such feeling, the morning after your wedding?”

  Gavin nodded, not wanting to hear her confession.

  “During our marriage, he never lost a moment to remind me of the time I had spent with you. Yet I bore it all, willingly—gladly almost—for I knew you loved me. Each and every lonely night I lay awake and thought of you, of your love for me.”

  “Alice, you must stop.”

  “Tell me,” she said quietly, “didn’t you once think of me?”

  “Yes,” he answered honestly. “I did at first. But Judith is a good woman, kind and loving. I never thought I would love her. It was a marriage for estates, as you know.”

  Alice sighed. “What am I to do now? My heart is yours—has always been, will always be.”

  “Alice, this won’t help. It’s over between us. I’m married and I love my wife. You and I must part ways.”

  “You are so cold to me.” Alice touched his arm, then moved her hand up to his shoulder. “Once you were not so cold.”

  Gavin clearly remembered making love to Alice. Then he had been blinded by his love for her, and he believed anything she did was the way it should be done. But now, after months of passion with Judith, the idea of bedding Alice almost repulsed him. The way she could not stand to be touched before or after lovemaking. No, with Alice it was sex—a pure animal drive, nothing else.

  Alice saw the expression on his face but didn’t understand it. She continued with her hand until she touched his neck. He stood immediately. Alice stood also, but she took his reluctance at her touch as a sign of his growing desire for her. She stood boldly against him, her arms going around his neck. “I see you do remember,” she whispered, raising her face to be kissed.

  He gently pulled her arms from his neck. “No, Alice.”

  She glared at him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You are so unmanned by her that you are afraid of her?”

  “No,” Gavin said, surprised, both at Alice’s reasoning and her outburst. Anger was unnatural to Alice, who was always so sweet-tempered.