“Yet she chose a rich earl instead.”
“But her father—”
“Gavin! Can’t you look at her with clear eyes? Do you think that drunkard of a father of hers ever gave anyone an order? Even his servants don’t obey him! Were he a strong man, would she have had such freedom to slip about the countryside with you at night?”
It was hard for Gavin to believe all this of Alice. She was so pink and blonde, so delicate, so shy. She looked up at him with great tears in her eyes and his heart melted. He remembered how he felt when she threatened to take her own life. He would have done anything for her. Yet even then his attraction to Judith had been enormous.
“You aren’t convinced,” Stephen said.
“I’m not sure. Old dreams die hard. She is a beautiful woman.”
“Yes, and you fell in love with that beauty. You never questioned what else was there. You say you didn’t take her to your bed. How did she get there then?”
When Gavin didn’t answer, Stephen continued. “The slut stripped her own clothes off and planted herself there. Then she sent someone to summon Judith.”
Gavin rose. He didn’t want to hear any more. “I must go and see if Judith is well,” he murmured and walked back to the manor house. All his life, since he was sixteen, Gavin had been responsible for property and men. He had never had the carefree time of his brothers to court women and learn of their natures. True, there had been many women in his bed, but always they were gone quickly. No woman had spent time close to him, laughing and talking with him. He had grown up believing all women were like he remembered his mother—pretty, sweet-tempered, gentle. Alice had always seemed to be the epitome of those traits, and as a result, he had become infatuated with her almost immediately.
Judith had been the first woman he had really known. At first she had infuriated him. She was not obedient, as a woman should be. She would rather concern herself with his household account books than the colors used in a piece of embroidery. She was breathtakingly beautiful, but she seemed unaware of her beauty. She did not spend hours on her clothes. In truth, Joan often chose her mistress’s attire. Judith seemed to be everything undesirable, unfeminine. Yet Gavin had fallen in love with her. She was honest, brave, generous—and she made him laugh. Never once had Alice shown even a touch of humor.
Gavin stood outside the door of Judith’s chamber. He knew he no longer loved Alice, but could she be as treacherous as Stephen said? As Raine and Miles also said? How did she come to be in his bed except for the reason Stephen gave?
The door opened and the midwife stepped into the hall. Gavin grabbed her arm. “How is she?”
“Sleeping now. The child was born dead.”
Gavin took a deep, calming breath. “Will my wife recover?”
“I don’t know. She has lost much blood. I don’t know if it was from the infant, or perhaps something inside was damaged in the fall.”
Gavin’s face drained of color. “Didn’t you say she lost blood from the child?” He didn’t want to believe that something else could be wrong.
“How long have you been wed to her?”
“Nearly four months,” he answered, surprised.
“And she was a virgin when you took her?”
“Yes,” he said, remembering the pain he had caused her.
“She was quite far along. The child was well formed. I would say she conceived that first night or the next. No later. Perhaps there is so much blood because the child was so well advanced. It’s too early to tell.”
She turned to go, but Gavin grabbed her arm. “How will you know?”
“When the bleeding stops and she is still alive.”
He released her arm. “You say she sleeps. May I go to her?”
The old woman chuckled. “Young men! They never seem to deny themselves. You bed one woman while another waits for you. Now you hover over the first one. You should choose one or the other.”
Gavin swallowed his reply, but his scowl made the smile leave her face.
“Yes, you may go to her,” the woman said quietly, then turned and went down to the stairs.
The rain came down in slashing sheets. The wind bent the trees almost in half. Lightning flashed and far away a tree split and crashed. But the four people who stood around the tiny coffin that the workers had just lowered into the ground, were unaware of the cold torrent. Their bodies swayed with the gale, but they did not notice it.
Helen stood by John, her body limp, leaning heavily against the strength of him for support. Her eyes were dry and hot. Stephen stood close to Gavin, ready if his brother should need him.
It was John and Stephen who exchanged looks, the rain running down their faces, dripping into their clothes. John gently led Helen away from the little gravesite and Stephen guided Gavin. The storm had started suddenly, after the priest had begun to read the words over the tiny coffin.