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Nothing had ever looked more inviting and Mal hadn’t slept in a bed since leaving Warwick—well over a se’ennight ago. So, while the tub was being emptied by a parade of serfs, the maids helped him pull on his hose and tunic. And then he sent them all away and climbed into his bed. He pulled the curtains tightly against the stream of bright sun.
And, surrounded by the scent of his wife, he slept.
Malcolm woke immediately when the chamber door opened.
“Of all the things—to fall into a bog,” Judith was saying as she came in. Her arrival was accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of the metal tub being slid across the stone floor, then the soft rustle of people moving, the sloshing of water.
Mal sat up quietly, his heart pounding, his body alert. He should reveal himself, but…nay. Not now. Not when there were serfs and maids about. He was bedamned if he’d air his dirty laundry for all to see and gossip on.
Now he could smell the stink of algae and mud, he could hear the soft swish of clothing, of trunks opening and closing, the muffle of Judith’s voice as she pulled the gown over her head. The bed curtains rippled and twitched from the activity in the chamber and he felt ridiculous, being reduced to hiding in a bed while his wife bathed. And though it would be humiliating to be discovered in such a position, he could not make himself announce his presence.
At last the serfs were gone and only Tabatha remained to serve her mistress. And though he couldn’t see what was happening, he could envision it. The soft splash as Judith climbed into the tub, t
he drips as a washing cloth was brought from the water, the scent of lavender and lily overtaking that of rotting plants and muck. Knowing he was about to fight what was likely the most dangerous battle of his life, Mal closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, then pulled open the curtains.
Both women whirled, staring at him with shocked eyes. Tabby gasped.
“Dismiss your maid,” he said to his wife.
Judith’s face, already flushed from the warm water, turned even pinker. Her lush lips were parted and her hair was piled on her head with a few wisps brushing her gold-dusted ivory shoulders. Thank God he could see naught else of her.
He tensed, praying she would not disobey him—for that he could not allow.
“You may go, Tabatha,” she said tightly.
The maid’s eyes were circles of surprise and confusion, but she said not a word and swiftly left the chamber, closing the door behind her.
Now Mal could return his full attention to Judith, and he did. Silence smothered the room like a heavy tapestry.
“And so you’ve come to claim your husbandly right,” Judith said at last, leveling a stare at him. It was neither friendly nor angry. Merely…accepting.
Hope leaped inside him, then faded. He wanted more than her acceptance. “I needed a bath,” he told her. “And I’ve not slept in a bed for nearly a fortnight. ”
“Surely your mistress could have provided one for you. ”
A wave of fury and confusion washed over him. “Mistress?” he snarled in frustration. “What is this madness you cling to? I have not even looked on a whore since the day you forced me to play chess. ”
She gaped at him. Then the shock faded and her expression became pinched. “Your lover then. Mayhap you must worship her from afar because you are not wed. Which would explain the lack of a bed,” she added sharply. Her face was turned away, but he saw the slender column of her throat convulse as she swallowed.
“I do not know what you are speaking of,” he said desperately. “My lover? My mistress? Judith, you accuse me of aught I do not understand. ”
“I am not a fool. I know you wished to wed Beatrice. I know you love her. You could hardly wait to be rid of me, to return to her. ” Her voice became thready and high. “But why did you have to bring her here? Under my roof? Was it not enough that you must pine for her whilst wedding me?” Now she looked at him, distraught and devastated, the water sloshing with her vehemence. “I know ’twas wrong of me to open that door, to trick you into offering for me—to use your honor against you—but I tried to release you, Malcolm. I tried and you would not allow it!”
By now he was off the bed, next to the tub, ignoring the streak of pain in his ankle as he crouched next to her. “Beatrice? Of Delbring? You believe I love Beatrice of Delbring? Is that what this is all about?” he bellowed, half in fury, half in joyful relief.
She merely looked at him and nodded. He was close to her, pressing against the side of the tub, his arms wide, his hands gripping the edge as if to embrace the vessel itself. Water seeped into his tunic and he could see the pulse pounding in her throat and the tempting hint of breasts. His own heart thudded madly.
“You mad, mad woman,” he whispered, reaching to touch her, curving a dark, scarred hand under her chin. “The only woman I love is you. I cannot even look at a whore because you have so ruined me. ”
“But…you were negotiating a marriage contract. With Delbring. While we were at Clarendon. Nevril told Tabatha—you were so happy, he said—and then you became angry when you learned you must wed me…. ” Judith’s voice broke. She was looking at him through blue pools of hope, yet her eyes were still laced with suspicion and pain. “And then you left me here to go to Delbring…. ”
Mal shook his head, his fingers sliding down along her throat and over her delicate collarbone as he tried to understand how she could have come to such wrong conclusions. It took a moment before comprehension dawned. “Nevril. That rock-head. He did not know of our plans to wed. But I sent messages, many of them—to Mal Verne, Salisbury, and Peter of Blois and others—and aye, to Delbring. But ’twas only to give off the impression I meant to make a match there. I could not allow the king or queen to get a hint of our plans…and so I allowed some to think that was my intent. And I was happy because a miracle had happened. ” He brought himself up on his knees, pulling her close. “I had the chance to wed you. ”
She did not resist when he covered her mouth with his. Her lips were warm and softly parted, and he was gentle, for the fierce desperation he harbored for so long was gone. Judith tasted sweet and lush, and ’twas all he could do to keep from crawling over the edge and into the tub, gathering her damp, sleek body to him.
But she turned away too soon, easing back against the edge of the tub. “But you left me here. Why? And why did you not tell me of Violet? Why would you keep such a secret from me?”
A flicker of shame caught him and it was Mal’s turn to shift, shocking his weak ankle as he put space between them. “I had to send her from Warwick, for I wanted her to be safe from the disease there. But I was not…certain how you would accept her. ”
