A Lily on the Heath 4 (12 page)

“I do not think that is possible,” she replied sadly. “Thank you, Malcolm.”

~*~

“My lady!” Tabby greeted
Judith with a relieved shriek when she came into her chamber. The maid flew into her mistress’s arms as if
she’d
been the one lost and then found. “You are returned! I was so afeared for you, my lady, when Crusty returned and you did not!”

Judith embraced her in return, then extricated herself carefully, wincing at the pain in her arms and legs. “I am sore tired and—”

“And your face! And arms! What has befallen you?”

“I will tell you all of it, but I must have a bath. And some of your salve for my hurts. I’ve already ordered the water to be brought up.” She stopped when the expected knock came at her chamber door.

Tabby rushed over to open it. “My
lord
!” she squeaked in shock.

Judith turned sharply, not certain whom she thought would be there after her maid’s exclamation…but the last person she expected to see was
the
king
.

“Your majesty,” she exclaimed, collapsing into a curtsy.
 

“Rise, Lady Judith,” said Henry in his low but commanding voice. “And tell your maid she need not have such a fit.”

Indeed, Tabby was fairly prostrate on the floor, her breathing coming in short, quick gasps.

“Tabatha,” Judith commanded in a steely voice, unable to fathom why on earth the king had seen fit to visit
her
. “Attend to…to…aught….”

“What is this? A menagerie? Is that a
rabbit
in yonder cage?” Henry was looking about the tiny antechamber where Bear, who had no sense of the greatness in his presence, had hardly lifted his head when the king entered the room. Unfortunately, the kitten was not so uninterested, and she stumbled from her place next to the dog and meowed up at the muscular, auburn-haired man. “And who is this?”

“Oh, my lord, your majesty, ’tis naught but a poor little cat I was nursing back to health,” Tabby managed to say, scooping up the kitten just before she began to sharpen her claws on the royal legs. Her words came out in little more than a shaky whisper and Judith took pity on her.

“The men will be here with my bath any moment. Mayhap you shall meet them in the hall so they do not…er…splash water on his majesty.” Judith turned her attention to the king, still stunned that she’d had to speak those words. “Your highness, to what do I owe this honor?”

Henry stepped into the chamber, the anteroom door closing partly behind him as Tabby went out through the main chamber door. He was dressed in informal clothing—a simple
sherte
and hose covered by a tunic, along with fine leather slippers. Nevertheless, his royal presence seemed to overtake the chamber, making the space shrink to just his size. “I just learned of your adventures this day, Lady Judith. I merely came to assure myself you have returned whole and unharmed.”

Judith blinked and tried to hide her confusion. If the king made it his business to personally visit every one of his subjects when they returned from a journey, he would spend more time out of his chambers than in. “Aye, my lord, as you are well able to see, I am whole and unharmed.”

“But for this bit of nastiness on your lovely face,” he said, reaching to touch her scraped cheek. It was more of a caress than an inquisitive touch, and his fingers lingered on her skin, brushing the curve of her jaw.

Her heart skipped a beat and Judith felt herself flush with heat and confusion. He was looking at her…oddly. In a manner that made her insides flutter uncomfortably. “Aye,” she managed to say, despite her dry mouth and pounding heart. “’Tis naught but the scrape of a pine tree trunk. I was…I climbed the tree in hopes of finding a baby falcon for the…for the queen.”

“Indeed,” Henry said. His hand fell away from her cheek and Judith breathed more easily. “We do hope it doesn’t leave a scar. Such a beautiful countenance should never be marred thusly.”

“You are very kind, your majesty,” she replied, curtsying again briefly. “And you are very kind to take the time to visit me here.”

“’Tis of naught account,” he said. “Our queen is everything to us, and we wish only to ensure that our Lady Falconer is able to fulfill the request we have made of her.”

“Of course, your highness,” Judith told him, a little spark of excitement flaring inside her at the name ‘Lady Falconer.’ It might not be a formal title, but she would accept the honor nevertheless. Never had a woman been spoke of in such a manner. “And this day, I was able to capture two eyases. Surely one of them will suit for your lady wife.”

“A pair of eyases? And mayhap we shall have a matching hunter for the king himself, then?” he said, his eyes glinting with pleasure.

“Indeed, my lord…if both falcons show promise. I vow it.”
 

“Very well, then, Lady Judith. We shall leave you to your bath.” His voice slowed and deepened on the word, and his attention skimmed the chamber. “And mayhap on the morrow, you shall tell us more of your adventures, and how you intend to train a pair of falcons for your sovereigns.”

“Aye, my lord, and thank you for your kind attention this night,” Judith said. She swept into one last curtsy, remaining thus until she saw his leather slippers turn and his feet carry him from the chamber, then out to the antechamber.
 

No sooner had the door closed behind King Henry than Judith collapsed onto the stool near the fire. What was the meaning of such an encounter? Her heart was pounding and her palms damp, but Judith drew in several slow, deep breaths to calm herself.

She was close enough to Eleanor to have met the king many times, but even more importantly, to have witnessed many of his majesty’s various moods. He could be fiery and commanding, ruthless and violent…but he could also be wise and judicious—and kind and gentle, as he had been this night. He cared for his people in both England and France, and despite his thirst for power and land, Henry was a good king who was liked and respected by his most powerful barons. Judith’s cousin Gavin, Lord Mal Verne, was one of the men who had the king’s ear, and, along with Salisbury and Ludingdon, was respected by him as well. Among other things, they spoke optimistically of Henry’s plans to redesign the legal system and applauded his move to institute a jury of peers in most trials.

As for the queen…. Henry loved and respected his wife as much as any man in a marriage arranged purely for power, wealth and land would do, and together they complemented each other in the manner in which they ruled.

By the time Judith had walked her mind through those rational thoughts, her breathing had slowed and the uncomfortable fluttering in her belly eased. Clearly, Henry cared for the well-being of one of his queen’s closest confidantes—as well as the status of his own request of Judith.

A tentative knock startled her from her musings. “Enter,” she called, tensing again.

Tabby burst in, still wide-eyed and carrying the kitten. “My lady,” was all she said, looking around as if to see the king still lurking in the chamber. When she saw her mistress was alone, she said, “What—?”

“’Tis naught of your concern, Tabatha—the king’s visit. He merely wished to ensure that I was unhurt. But ’tis not something I wish to be gossiped about. Do you understand?”

“Aye, of course, my lady,” Tabby replied. Then her voice dropped. “No one saw his majesty enter or leave, my lady. I made certain of it.”

“Where is my bath?” was Judith’s only reply. The discussion was finished.

“’Tis without.” Tabby opened the door then stood aside as a parade of pages and serfs marched into the chamber.

The first two were pages and carried a luxuriously large tub fashioned of metal. They wrestled it into position in front of the fire, where the blaze would help maintain the heat. Then followed a dozen serfs with buckets of hot water, dumping them one by one into the vessel until it was filled to its smooth, curled brim. Another series of serfs brought two smaller tubs: one empty and one filled with more steaming water for washing Judith’s hair.

Tabby added a large bunch of fresh lavender branches, crushing some of the leaves and flowers between her fingers as she sprinkled it into the bath. Then, once the serfs left and the chamber door closed, Judith at last slid her sore, scraped body into the tub.

As she settled slowly into the steaming water, she groaned loudly—for the bath was both shockingly hot and wonderfully soothing. Once she was fully immersed, with only a small slop dripping over the side, she looked at Tabby and said, “And what is this about a rabbit? In my chamber?”

“Oh,” replied her maid, her expression filled with consternation. “I didn’t mean for you to find out so…unexpectedly.”

“Indeed.” Judith raised a brow as Tabby came behind her to comb out her braid and wash it. She settled in, resting her neck on a cushion at the side of the tub. As the maid went about her business, Judith closed her eyes, only half-listening to the long-winded explanation about an injured rabbit.

The hot water and its relaxing scent nearly had her slipping into repose. As she did so, the water lapping gently against her shoulders, Judith couldn’t help remembering the rhythmic jolting of Malcolm’s horse rocking her against him as she fell asleep. Despite the massive size of the beast, and the startling distance from the ground, she was able to relax and doze, safe in Mal’s arms.

Such a feat was surprising, for Judith oft found it difficult to sleep even in her own bedchamber. She woke at any little noise, and if she wasn’t comfortable, she didn’t sleep well.
I was very tired this day.
Aye, she was tired and sore and she’d felt safe and comfortable huddled against his solid chest—a torso she could easily picture after having seen it bare in the training yard.

Judith’s heart tripped a beat when she remembered the feeling, and when she thought about the way his powerful thighs angled behind and beneath hers as they rode. The unyielding texture of mail pressed into the back of her breeches, its chill warming as it brushed against her. At the time, she’d managed to push away the awareness of such intimacy by engaging him in conversation. But now, away from Mal, quiet and relaxed, she felt her entire body flush with heat. And it wasn’t from the bath.

Malcolm of Warwick had matured into a powerful, courageous lord from the awkward young man she’d known. And he was kind too—taking Rike under his wing. He would be a fine husband for any gentlelady. Judith started, splashing a generous wave of water over the rim of the tub.

“What is it, my lady? Did I pull your hair?”

“Nay,” she replied, biting her lip as she sank back down. “I was nearly asleep and almost slipped under the water.”
 

Tabby replied, but Judith wasn’t listening.
A fine husband.
She’d been so intent on matching him up with one of the other ladies at court, she’d never thought….
 

Judith’s mind was working, her insides fluttered and bubbled and she gnawed on her lip. Then she stopped cold. And sagged back into the water.

The queen.

The queen would never allow Judith to wed and thus leave her side. To wed and then have an allegiance to a husband.

Tabby had been right:
’Twill be the end of the world—or at least her reign—before the queen allows you to see the green hills of Lilyfare.

Or to wed.

SIX

The next morning,
Tabby went to the kitchen garden to pick baby lettuce and other greens for her injured rabbit. On her way back to the keep, she made a detour around the north side of the bailey in hopes of accidentally encountering Bruin, the second marshal of the guest stables.

Bruin was five-and-twenty to Tabby’s age of eighteen, and though he was shy around her, she found she could get him to smile on occasion—if she worked hard at it. He had a crooked tooth in the front that made him particularly endearing and a habit of shifting from foot to foot when she was speaking to him. Yet the man hardly said three words in her presence, for he seemed to prefer the company of the horses that were in his charge to any two-legged creature.

It was Tabby’s desire to change that, and so she made certain to saunter past the stable whenever possible. Bruin was healthy, unmarried, gentle with the animals—and above all, he wasn’t about to ever go off to war.

Today, however, when she walked past, Bruin was nowhere to be found. Mayhap he was brushing one of the horses, or attending to a broken bridle.
 

Nevertheless, Tabby found herself loitering a bit longer than necessary in hopes he might return. Behind her, she heard the clang of swords where the men-at-arms were training. The very sight of them, clashing with sword and shield, made her angry and sad all at the once. Thus, she resolutely kept her back to the embattled men, having no wish to watch them preparing for violence and bloodshed. Other women might admire their sleek muscles and powerful movements, but Tabby did not.

’Twas that folly which caused her to quite literally jump when a voice behind her said, “How fares the main ingredient of my rabbit stew?”

Tabby whirled and the basket slung over her arm crashed into the man standing behind her. Arugula, dandelion and lettuce leaves scattered into the dirt. With a sound of annoyance, she dropped into a crouch to gather them up, all the while doing her best not to speak out of turn. She nearly had to bite her tongue to keep from snapping at Sir Nevril.