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’Tis more like she is ashamed of her conduct. Mortified that all at court know.
“But she is still a most beautiful woman,” Dirick murmured. “
’Tis no wonder the king is enamored. ”
“Indeed,” Lady Maris replied archly.
“If one is drawn to a lady with flaming red hair,” Dirick added, grinning idiotically at his wife. “And I cannot imagine who would be. Imagine the temper that would accompany hair of that color. Most particularly not I—for I seem to have an affinity for women with hair the color of pine bark and an imperious tongue. ”
“She is acting bashful and shy,” said Lady Amice. “And she is not sitting with the king—only at the end of the high table. ” The new arrival gathered up her gown to climb over the bench, taking a spot next to Mal. “Better the whore of the king should flaunt her favor and power. What has his majesty’s favorite to hide? With the king’s protection, she is untouchable, even by the queen. ” Her voice was wistful and laced with unmitigated envy.
“I do believe Lady Judith would argue with that. Do you not see her face?” Lady Maris said coldly. “Lady Judith is no fool. And she is not one to flaunt anything. Most especially the cuckolding of her friend, her majesty the queen. ”
Whore of the king.
Suddenly Mal was no longer hungry, though he’d eaten naught since the morn. The nape of his neck itched, encouraging him to turn and survey the scene himself. But he resisted, taking a gulp from his goblet instead. He was aware of Dirick’s regard, and an exchange of glances with Lady Maris, but Mal cared little for their private flirtations.
He rose abruptly and excused himself. There would be time later to woo Lady Ursula.
Somehow Judith managed to survive the meal in the great hall. Fully aware everyone had heard of the queen’s rage—and the reason for it—she wasn’t certain whether she’d become a pariah or merely a curiosity. By inviting her to sit at the high table—though not next to him, praise God—the king had shown his support for her and yet some deference to the queen.
After all, Henry had had many mistresses over the years. And more oft than not, they were openly acknowledged—at least by the king and those close to him. Rumors flew, and understanding glances and knowing murmurs were exchanged among those of the court. And the leman herself most usually had naught to hide. To be chosen by the king was, to most women, an honor.
But because of Eleanor’s fury and her public reaction, Judith didn’t know what to expect from her friends and peers. She wanted not to care, but care she did. These were her friends. This was her life, though not one of her choosing. And she had not sought any of this attention.
Nevertheless, Judith held her head high and tried to ignore the incessant throbbing of her cheek as she nibbled on as much of her food as she could choke down. She already knew she’d be attending Henry this night. He had no reason for secrecy any longer.
Why could he not find someone else on which to turn his attention?
Judith saw Maris and Ludingdon sitting with Ursula, and she wished she could join them. Hugh de Rigonier was there as well, along with Alynne, the bitter-faced Lady Amice, Castendown…and Malcolm. Nay, Warwick. He is Warwick to you.
And what must he think of you now?
She saw him rise from his place before the first course was even finished, maneuvering his way between the rows of benches and out of the hall. She wished she could do the same.
She wished she could go with him.
She wished she could go to him.
Later that night, Henry sent for her. This time, she was brought not to the small, secret chamber, but to his larger, royal apartments. They were more sumptuous and well-furnished, guarded by three men-at-arms at the outside of the door instead of a single one.
“I am sorry for this,” he said, gently touching her swollen cheek. “The queen vented her spleen upon me as well—but not nearly so violently. I did duck when she threw the goblet, though. ” He chuckled, but Judith found no humor in his words.
“I would not have hurt her,” she said, scraping up her last bit of pride in order to speak her mind. “She has been good to me. I considered her a friend as well as my liege lady. ”
“Eleanor is wise in the ways of the world, and of a marriage such as ours,” Henry replied dismissively. “Ask her of her relationship with her uncle, and in whose beds she has played. She is not one to point fingers. Aye, she is angry now, but she will come to terms with it. ”
Judith wasn’t inclined to agree, but she remained silent, closing her eyes and blocking away the feel of his hands on her bare skin. How much longer?
“And she will not lay a finger on you again,” he added, sliding his hand over a most intimate place. His breathing changed, roughened, and he probed and stroked…and then he rose over her.
Judith closed her eyes and thought of flying free, like Hecate.
The morrow after the events in the queen’s solar, Judith was alone in her chamber. The kitten—who was very nearly a cat now—sat on her lap, purring loudly. Judith wasn’t certain who was receiving more benefit from the quiet moment—she or the furry beast. Petting the soft fur was comforting, and being with a living being that required naught from her was a relief.
When a knock came at the door, she stiffened…then relaxed. The king had released her from his attentions some hours ago, and she knew he was attending to some court business. He wouldn’t be sending for her again so soon.
“Enter,” Judith called from her favorite place by the fire.
