A Lily on the Heath 4 (6 page)

“Yes indeed. Is that not why you are here? At court? To find a wife? That’s what you said last evening.” Her voice was amused—until she looked down and saw that he’d taken
her
bishop. “A pox on you, Mal! I had plans for that holy man!”

He couldn’t hold back a rumbling chuckle. “Well, then, mayhap you should put your attention on the game in the stead of my business, Lady Judith.”

“But I vow I could help you with your business,” she told him, chewing on a fingernail as she looked at the board. “I am well-acquainted with all the ladies at court, and many others. I have been known to help make many a match of them. And I could,” she added, looking up at him even as her face was angled toward the board, “help you determine which would be worthy of a man such as you.”

Mal was caught for a moment by those blue eyes, soft and warm and smiling.
A man such as you
. Something inside him creaked pleasantly.

“After all,” she continued, looking back down, thank the Blessed Lord, and grasping the head of her queen, “you
are
Warwick. You control near as much land in England as my cousin Gavin Mal Verne and Lord Salisbury, and you have the wealth to go with it. As well, you are quite a skilled warrior, as was evident in the yard this morrow, and would surely be able to defend any threat to you or your wife. And then there is the matter of the unfortunate young man named Rike.”

“Rike?” he said after a beat of a moment, comprehension catching up with his thoughts.

“Aye. I saw you speaking with him, working with him. It was very kind of you, Mal—my lord. And you appeared to have done so with tact and care, so as not to mortify the poor boy. Check.”

Mal’s attention whipped back down to the game. How the bloody rood had she done
that?
Well, ’twas no matter. He could easily maneuver himself out of that threat and continue on. He shifted a pawn and replied, “The boy’s barely a squire and won’t make it to knighthood without some guidance. He’s as like to fall on his own sword than use it to defend himself.”

“I saw him too, and, ah, well…Mal, I was going to approach you and suggest the very thing. But you had already done so.” She was looking at him again with those warm eyes, only a game-board distance away.

“Because he reminded you of me, when I was such an age?” he asked, not quite able to keep a tinge of bitterness from his voice.
 

“Mayhap some trifle bit,” she replied carelessly, sliding her knight into place with a grand gesture. “But most of all because of who you’d become. Check, sirrah!”

“You hardly know who I’ve become,” he retorted, swiftly moving his king out of danger.

“’Tis true…but even as we sit here, I learn more of you. And all the ladies are asking about you, too, my lord; do you not allow yourself to think otherwise. Any new face at court—particularly one as pleasing as yours—will garner such interest. Because we are old friends, though, I wish only for the best for you. And therefore, ’tis my intent to drive you clear from certain potential wives…such as….” She leaned over the table, her face coming so close that he could see that the single, dainty freckle on her eyelid was amber and not brown, “Gladys of Darvington and Winifred d’Alsineaux.” Judith’s voice had dropped to a husky whisper, and she held his gaze with hers. “Keep yourself far from them, my lord, I beg of you, and you will be much happier.” She grinned then as her hand swooped down and snatched up his queen, replacing it with her knight. She looked up at him with dancing, triumphant eyes.

He nodded gravely, reaching for the board. “Thank you very much for the warning, my lady. Check…
mate
.”

Her eyes popped wide and she nearly burst from her seat. “Nay! You did not!” But as she looked frantically at the board, her hand hovering from place to place as if to find some move to free her from the trap, her lips pursed in acceptance. “Fie! You are fortunate, my lord, for my very next move would have been to put an end to you myself.”

“I am well aware of that,” he replied, entertained by how quickly her mood had changed from earnest advice to mischief to irritation. “Nevertheless, you are a formidable opponent, my lady.”

“As are you, my lord.” He detected the bit of a pout in her tone and he couldn’t completely smother a smile. “Laugh at me all you wish,” she told him tartly, “but I vow our next meeting will finish quite differently!”

“I dare not laugh at you, Lady Judith,” he told her, doing just that—and was surprised with himself for doing so. And surprised that he had not taken her words as an opportunity to take his leave—for there was no reason to stay now that the game was finished. He was eager to be on his way. Yet, he did not rise. “Did you not beg me to play with you in order to offer you a better challenge than your last opponents?”

“Mmph.” She made a comical expression, then reached to pluck the last slice of apple from his tray. “Now that I have told you whom to avoid, my lord, mayhap you should tell me what you seek in a wife. Surely she must be beautiful and come with a large dowry chest or a fief of her own…but what more do you seek? Shall she have hair the color of honey or eyes as green as the heath-grass?”

“I care not the color of her hair or eyes,” he replied impatiently. “’Tis of no import to me. I care not whether she is homely or comely. But she must be modest and biddable. And she must know how to manage an estate, for I need a good chatelaine to oversee the household.” Beatrice of Delbring, whose estate was only two days’ ride from Warwick, met all of those requirements. And she would be a good mother to Violet, for, as a cousin of Sarah’s, she’d oft visited Warwick. But…there were other options here at court.

“Aye,” Judith said, nodding sagely. “The Warwick holdings are vast, and you must oft travel between them.”

“Not so oft as one might suppose,” he replied. “There is much to keep me occupied at Warwick Castle, and I have long-serving, trustworthy castellans at my other holdings. In sooth, I prefer not to leave Warwick at all. ’Tis where I belong, my home. I would never have come
here
had I not been in sore need of a wife, and permission from the king to take one.” Mal closed his mouth at that point, astonished that he’d spoken so many words—and to a woman—and at the same time discomfited by the raw honesty of the contents of his speech.
 

He looked up at Judith to see what her reaction would be to his bluntness. Her expression had turned sober. Even a little sad. “Aye. ’Tis difficult to be away from one’s home.”

Something in her tone prompted him to ask, “Have you not been to Lilyfare as of late?”

Judith laughed, but it was humor tinged with bitterness. “Nay, my lord. I’ve not been to my lands for six years. The queen has made this court my home, and I fear I will never see the green heath of Lilyfare until I am buried there. If perchance the queen will even allow
that
.” She laughed again, but he heard the strain beneath the lightness.

“I am sorry for that, my lady. But surely there are benefits to being in the confidence of the queen?” Malcolm could hardly fathom what benefits might overweigh the comfort and privacy of home, but he was doing his best to be gallant.

“Oh, aye, I mustn’t sound like I’m unhappy. I’m truly not,” Judith replied brightly. “There is always entertainment here and people to talk with—and play chess with,” she added with a sassy, more genuine smile. “And her majesty has been very good to me on many occasions.”

“And surely you have done aught for her, my lady, or she would not be so attached to you,” he reminded her.

“I copy her private letters for her betimes, and if she consults with someone, I often sit with her so I can help her recall the conversation. She considers me a friend as much as she considers anyone, I trow. I am very blessed to be in my position, my lord. Please excuse my moment of complaint.”
 

“Not at all, my lady. If it ’twere I, trapped here in this gilded cage of court, I should have more than a few complaints.”

She looked at him, startled. “I said very near the same thing to my maid this morrow—of being trapped in a gilded cage. Never being allowed to fly free.” Then she seemed to shake herself from the melancholy that overtook her. “But on the topic of flying free,” she said, her expression lighting up again, “the king made a most wondrous request of me this morn.”

Mal had noticed the king speaking to her and couldn’t help but wonder on the topic, for their conversation had seemed almost intimate in nature. “Indeed?”

“Aye. He has asked of me to find and train a hunting falcon for her majesty, because she is—oh!” Her eyes flew open and her hand covered her mouth. When she drew her fingers away, her full lips were curved in a secretive smile. “There goes my flapping tongue again! Gavin never ceases to remind me that I cannot seem to keep my mouth closed. Verily, my lord, I cannot say precisely the occasion for which the king wants the gift for his wife, but it is quite an honor to be asked.”

“Indeed,” Mal said again. He decided not to ask what—or, more accurately,
whether
—the king would pay for such a gift, for Judith seemed so pleased with the honor. “If your raptors are as well trained as those of your father, then the king would be foolish to ask it of any other falconer. The raptors of Lilyfare are well known.”

She smiled, her eyes crinkling sweetly at the corners. “Thank you, Mal—my lord. That is very kind of you to say. And aye—my birds are as well trained as those of Father’s. Mostly due to Tessing and his guidance,” she added modestly. “Mayhap you would care to come on a hunt with me? Then you may see for yourself…and mayhap you’ll request such a bridal gift for your future wife? If ’tis a fine enough present for the queen, then ’twould be a fine bride’s gift.” Her eyes were wide and ingenuous.
 

Mal couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Very well, Lady Judith. I shall take your recommendation into account.” Just then, Hugh de Rigonier moved into view, meeting his eyes purposefully. Mal nodded in assent and stood. “And now, I believe there is another gentleman who wishes to take on your challenge. Good morrow, my lady.”

THREE

The next morning was rainy
and gray, and stayed that way all through the day. Judith found herself cloistered with the queen, who was still in the early months of her pregnancy and required much entertainment, fawning, and solace. By the time she returned to her chamber that night, Judith was exhausted and in dire need of privacy. She didn’t even regret missing dinner in the Great Hall and the visiting acrobats who entertained the court.

However, the next day dawned as different from the days before as possible: sunny with blue skies and nary a cloud to be seen.

“’Tis a perfect day to hunt for the queen’s falcon,” Judith told Tabatha as she looked out the window slit.
 

Her maid knew what that meant and pulled an old pair of men’s hose and a heavy
sherte
that fell nearly to Judith’s knees. She donned the masculine clothing then fastened an unfashionably wide leather belt around her waist. Its holes and ties were useful for attaching tools and other implements. She wore a pair of well-worn but sturdy boots and tucked the end of her single braid into the back of her belt to keep it from swinging into her way. Over this ensemble she pulled a wool cloak with a hood then fastened it at her throat with a heavy brooch.

When she searched for hunting birds, Judith was known to climb trees or over rocky terrain into small mountains in order to find their nests. It was no easy task, but one she enjoyed on most occasions. There was something exhilarating about being so high in a tree she could see for what seemed like leagues…not to mention wearing clothing that allowed such freedom of movement.

“Now, lady, I’m getting too old to folla you up into them branches,” Tessing told her when she informed him of her plans. They stood in the mews while she gathered up the items she needed for her task.

“And right you are,” she told him. “You’re to stay on the ground so if I fall, you can catch me.” This last she said with a jest and he rolled his eyes and shook his head,
tsk
ing.

“If’n yer pap was alive, he’d send me up after ye anyway,” said the elderly man. “Old bones or nay. Tell me if’n one hair on yer head was bent, I’d be hung by m’toes.”

“And now you’re jesting with me, Tessing, because we all know all my hair is bent and curly,” she teased her mentor. “And asides, Papa used to send
me
up in the trees for him when the branches were too delicate to bear his weight.”

“An’ he’d be on the ground the whole time, pacin’, waitin’ to catch you if’n you fell.”

“And I never did,” she reminded him, swinging a small leather bag over her shoulder. Inside was a hunk of cheese, two apples and some dried beef. She’d tucked a skin of watered-down wine into her belt. Now she took two live mice and a vole from the cages where Tessing kept them and stuffed them into a small wooden box-cage. The small rodents would be good bait for her trap, or food for a young hawk if she needed it, and then her captured bird could ride back in the empty cage. “I want you to stay here anyway, Tessing. Someone must take care of Hecate, Gall and Petrus. You know I may not return until late tonight, or even tomorrow.”

The nearest forest that could be inhabited by raptors was a two hours’ ride away. But it was near a shallow ridge of rocky hills, and there was a good chance one or both places would offer a selection of nests for Judith to raid.
 

“Sir Piall is coming with me,” she told him when he began to protest. “And dressed as a boy like I am, and him as a simple man-at-arms, the two of us will attract no unwanted attention. We’ll ride quicker if it’s only us, and I am not about to be naysaid,” she finished, her voice going a little steely. “This is a special gift for the queen, and I must find the right hawk. If I don’t find one today or on the morrow, then I’ll go back on another time.” Though she didn’t say so, Judith was determined not to return until she found the best hunter…even if it meant sleeping on the ground. Hence the heavy cloak.