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“Come back to bed,” Judith called out, feeling wretched. “I’ll strive to do better! I promise!”
He shook his head, casting her a grim look.
“It’s plain you fear my touch at this time, and I will not press. We’ll talk upon this later. And I will make you see you’ve naught to fear!”
Judith opened her mouth to tell him it was not him she was afraid of, but, rather, herself. She loved him too much and wanted him too much. While he…She felt deeply afraid he would trample upon her heart. Was it all just a game to him? Was that what Tristram was doing now? Playing the game with an untried maiden, just for the thrill of it? She shook her head, not wanting to believe this of him. Yet the hateful image of the kerchief and of the rosary and of the pressed flower came back to haunt her. She already knew it was a lady’s kerchief and lady’s rosary. As for the flower – the flower was without a doubt a love token.
“You do not have to sleep on the floor,” Judith suddenly resolved. “I shall go and sleep in my mother’s chamber. There is a large bed there, and neither of us shall suffer tonight.”
She pulled her shift over her body, and didn’t even wait for Tristram to call after her. She fled from the bedchamber, like the coward she was. When she joined her mother in the solar, she found that Lady Fenice was still in bed, but wide awake.
“I worried over you,” her mother said, and reached to embrace Judith.
And Judith let herself be held by her mother, as if she’d still been a child. She tried to reason she was indeed behaving like a child. She should have spoken to Tristram of her fears. Surely, Tristram was not as her mother had told her he was. He was a worthy, honourable man, and he already cared for her. Hadn’t he even said so? He’d told her he loved her. Fancy that – a man like him loving a woman like her! A nagging voice inside her head wouldn’t let her be. It felt too good to be true.
“Mother, has Aunt Edith told you of a lady at Court, about my age or perchance older than me? A lady who perchance has a name which begins with a B?”
Her mother didn’t answer for a while, but when she spoke her voice was full of anguish.
“The lady Bernadette, you mean. Yet, nay, I cannot fathom that your husband has ever spoken of her to you. He… Oh, Judith, let this be! I’m sorry I said the things I said to you. You have a chance at happiness, and Sir Tristram is proving himself to be a gracious husband, in spite of what he did when you were apart.”
“Just tell me. Do not shield me from it, Mother, please!” Judith said, sitting up and gritting her teeth against what she would now hear.
“Your husband... My sweet, men have their urges. There were women at Court and out of it, your aunt has told me – women he dallied with. I didn’t want to believe it at first because you know your aunt, and I feared she spoke out of spite because she wanted you to marry Raymond. But then she told me of a lady whose family I knew well – the lady Bernadette de Villiers. I doubted her words at first. Yet Edith swore on the Holy Cross she saw them locked in a passionate embrace not three months past. Perchance it is not true. The lady’s married.”
Bernadette… Judith conjured up the image of the hateful kerchief in her head, and of that dainty rosary only a woman could possess. And she hated Lady Bernadette fiercely. And she hated herself fiercely, for loving Tristram so. She understood only too well this was not just a random woman Tristram had coupled with. By the tokens he kept of her, she understood Tristram cared for this woman. Tristram must love this woman deeply. Then why had he lied to her this night? Why had he called her beautiful? Why had he said he loved her? Was it all a game to him? A wicked game perchance? A mockery of her? She buried her face into her hands, knowing she loved Tristram so very much that she would be content with only crumbs of his affection or even with his scorn. Yet it hurt fiercely to think he’d sought to torment her by telling her of his love. Had he no heart, no heart at all? And couldn’t he see as clear as day he need tell her no lie at all? She was already at his mercy, no matter how he chose to treat her.
“I know men of his sort, my sweet. They thrive on women’s adoration. But perchance I was mistaken. Perhaps he means just to be kind to you and only hide the way things are in truth. They say the lady Bernadette is the most beautiful woman that ever was.”
“I did not know of her! I haven’t even glanced upon her at Court!”
“She’s married, my sweet. She must have been with her husband at their demesne when you were there.”
Judith pushed her mother’s placating hand away and went to sit by the dark window. She didn’t sleep all night, just staring into blackness. When morning came she resolved to confront Tristram. She’d rather have the truth of it than torment herself thinking upon the lady Bernadette and the love tokens she’d perceived.
Chapter 17
At dawn, when Judith went in search of Tristram, she found him already in the stables, seeing to his horse. He wore a look of grim preoccupation on his face, and at first she thought he was still cross with her for the way she’d behaved last night. He spoke urgently when he caught sight of her. “There’s need of me as soon as can be. King Henry summons me. The journey will be long and I mustn’t tarry. Trouble and strife are ahead – I cannot shirk from it though.”
He looked grim, yet resigned he must go when his liege called, and Judith knew at once it was a summons he could not ignore. So she assisted him with hasty travel preparations, knowing this was not the time to speak of the troubles which plagued her. When it was time for him to leave, Tristram sighed deeply, frowning upon her, and brushing a quick kiss upon her cheek.
“I gave you a reprieve last night, my lady. But this has to end. I’ll make you my wife in truth when next we meet,” he spoke.
His tone was one of terse command, and somewhat unlike the gentle, courteous Tristram she’d come to know, but she could understand why he was behaving thus. He had grim, urgent business ahead of him and little time to tarry.
“You’ll see there’s naught to fear! I’ll show you. When you come to me, we shall be together!” he added in the same decisive voice which left no room for argument.
“Come to you?” she asked, not understanding.
Tristram nodded.
“After my business here in England is done, Henry has ordered me to go to France. To Poitiers and Queen Eleanor’s Court of Love. He has a message for his royal wife which cannot tarry, and I’m the one he has appointed to deliver it.”
“France?”
“Aye,” Tristram nodded. “This time, I won’t be parted from you. I’d like you to come with me. It’s not an arduous journey, and I daresay you’ll come to like Eleanor’s Court of Love.”
Certainly, everyone knew that in Poitiers Queen Eleanor had surrounded herself with the worthiest troubadours in the world. It was the place where the most wondrous songs and tales were wrought, and Judith had always longed to see it. Yet the excruciating, maddening jealousy and mistrust returned in full force. Besides, Tristram was commanding her to go with him when he knew too well she could not leave her mother.
