A Lily on the Heath (Medieval Herb Garden 4) - Page 41

Judith took a deep breath and then before she could stop them, tears began to flow. All of her weariness, frustration and fear came tumbling out. She told Maris the whole of it—of Eleanor’s punishment of her and Judith’s servitude thus, the intimate details of Henry’s increasing demands, how she was trapped in a never-ending struggle of power between the king and queen…and, finally, of her conversation with Malcolm.

During Judith’s speech, Maris helped her to sit on the bed. She settled next to her, holding her friend’s hands as she listened. Her face betrayed no expression until Judith finished speaking. Then she blinked and said ruefully, “Less than a se’ennight I was gone and all of this has happened. ’Tis glad I am that this court is not my home. ”

Judith wiped her eyes and blew her nose, feeling more than a little foolish for her mad torrent of words and tears. “Forgive me, Lady Maris. I had no cause to pile all of my worries on you. ” She realized with a stab of fear that she’d done what Malcolm warned her not to do—to tell anyone of their impending marriage. Not that it would matter any longer, but she had betrayed his confidence. Again my foolish tongue!

“Very well. So we must reassess the situation. First,” Maris said, digging in a small pouch hanging from her belt, “I have brought you something to assist with the king. And now that I have learned the whole story, ’twill help you with the queen…at the least for a time. I meant for you to have a rest from the king’s attentions, but now that you are bleeding, you can send word to him of that. Surely he will give you a reprieve of some days. ”

“Aye,” Judith said, hoping Maris was correct. As the queen had pointed out, however, there were other ways to pleasure a man aside of copulation. And Henry never seemed to tire of her.

“But this,” Maris said, giving her a small vial, “will ensure you have at the least three days of peace. Mayhap longer. ” Judith took it and looked at the dark brown liquid, then back up as her friend explained, “’Twas my great luck to come upon an herbary during our journey. ’Tis a rare plant, and I paid a grand sum for it—aye, you shall find a way to compensate me betimes, for Dirick bellowed quite loudly when he learned of the cost—but when you drink it with some small bit of water—take care, for ’tis foul-tasting and bitter—you will soon show red patches all over your body. They will itch, but they are harmless and will disappear after some days. But I promise you, the king—and likely the queen—will not wish to be in the presence of aught so ugly and contagious. And I will assure them that ’tis not a deadly disease, but they do not wish to be exposed. ” Maris’s eyes danced and she looked as if she would love such a jest.

Judith took the vial, herself smiling at the thought. “Thank you, my lady. ’Tis very thoughtful of you. I shall use it as needed and I will most definitely repay you. ”

“Now. To your other, larger issue. ” Maris clicked her tongue and pulled her knees up to her chest, easing back further onto the bed as her bliaut and kirtle bunched up around her. “Ah,” she said with a smile, “’tis long since I’ve been able to this—for having a babe in the belly made it impossible to even see my feet, much less pull them up like this. ”

Judith nodded, but her thoughts went immediately from large bellies carrying babes to the niggling knowledge of what she must tell Malcolm.

As if reading her mind, Maris said, “You are considering not telling Warwick. ”

Though her friend’s tone was neutral, Judith flushed. “Nay. Not truly. Though ’tis a fantasy, I confess. ”

“You could wait to tell him. What harm would there be—another day or two. Mayhap he will make the arrangements and you will be wed…and then your flux will come. And then he will know any babe planted in your belly is his. ”

Judith felt a sharp stab at the thought of Malcolm planting a child in her belly—a pleasant, yet disappointed thought. “I cannot do that,” sh

e said, shaking her head. “He does not deserve to be trapped along with me. ’Twas wrong of me to say such a thing in the first place, to capture him so. ”

Maris tsked and sat up. “But it would solve your problem quite handily. And if your flux comes later…well then, you will already be wed. And he will have obtained a beautiful, wealthy wife for his troubles. ’Tis no bad bargain. ”

“Along with the king’s wrath and the queen’s spleen,” Judith replied. “I could not bear that that burden be thrust on him, Maris. I truly could not. ”

“I’ve found,” her friend said, “that betimes, the workings of a man’s mind is not the same as that of ours. They yearn for violence and bloodshed, for battle and war…and sometimes, their perception of honor is much different than that of ours. Methinks they oft prefer the chance to be honorable in a difficult situation than to have a quiet, simple life. He would do it for you. ”

“’Tis true,” Judith replied. But her mind was made up; speaking with Maris had removed any last bit of doubt. As painful as it would be, as dark as her future might seem, she would release Warwick from their agreement.

“I do not know what it is has taken the stick from up his arse,” Nevril said to Gambert, “but I am near ready to praise it as a miracle. ”

They stood in the bailey, just on the other side of the training yard’s gate. Both sweating, out of breath, and bare of torso, they’d just cleaned and put their swords away for the day. But they were smiling and in good humor, for their lord had not only not cursed them roundly—whilst pointing out each one’s failings on the field for all to hear—but neither had been landed on the field with his face plowed into the dirt, thanks to their ill-tempered but skillful master. Which had been happening with great regularity for nearly a se’ennight, and always accompanied by more bellowing and cursing from Lord Malcolm.

Gambert glanced to where his master was speaking to Lord Dirick, who’d returned to Clarendon with his wife only hours ago. “Praise God indeed,” the squire said. “Lord Mal is in such fine spirits these last days, I fair expect him to break into song. ”

They both laughed heartily at the image of the staid, sober Malcolm of Warwick bellowing a bawdy tune in the training yard. Though with his change in mood, ’twas possible even the inconceivable could happen.

“Mayhap I shall find the man a lute,” jested Nevril.

Gambert chortled. “Methinks we’ll soon be on our way back to Warwick. Another cause for celebration, for I am sore weary of sleeping on a pallet in a hot chamber of farting, snoring men. At the least at Warwick, I have only to share with you and a half dozen others. ”

“And we have our own pallets,” allowed Nevril.

“With the number of missives my lord has been sending as of late—to Mal Verne, Rittenbridge and Salisbury and, most importantly, Delbring—I suspect we shall make a detour there for a wedding. ’Tis apparent he has at last settled on a bride, and soon we shall have a new lady at Warwick. And my lord shall remain in his good humor whence he has a woman in his bed every night. ”

“Aye,” Nevril said, but he sounded much less enthusiastic. He couldn’t help but glance at the stable where the irritating Bruin continued to have the temerity to exist.

Tabatha the maid had hardly given Nevril anymore than a nod and a glance since he brought her to Lord Malcolm two days ago—the ungrateful wench. But since he would soon be bound for Warwick, Nevril concluded, ’twas just as well. For some unknown reason—likely stemming from his bad choice of rabbit stew jests and skill with the bow—she continued to show only loathing toward him.

Still…when he left the training yard, Nevril slowed his pace as he passed the stable. It would make for an even finer day if he found reason to pique the hard-hearted maid once more. For when she glowered and her eyes flashed, he found it more entertaining than the thought of Warwick playing the lute.

As luck would have it, this dallying brought his very desire to pass, for as he walked toward the keep, he spied Tabatha walking toward him. In the light, her bright golden hair gleamed as if drawing the sunbeams toward it. To his surprise, when she saw him, instead of changing direction or even turning her face to a glower, she increased her speed…coming straight to him.

Tags: Colleen Gleason Medieval Herb Garden Romance
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