HealingPassion (4 page)

Chapter Four

Dinner that evening was a more festive affair then usual.
Juliana had planned with the cook to serve a more bountiful variety of foods at
the meal, in honor of Sir Thomas’ presence. Fortunately, with the harvest just
behind them, supplies were plentiful. She made sure as well that servants would
keep the pitchers of wine full and cups refilled quickly.

The best gown she owned was the one in which she’d been
married to Lord Groswick, but she couldn’t bear the thought of putting it on
again. Her second-best gown was still a grand enough affair, with long, flowing
sleeves in deep rose velvet, worn over a shift with green embroidery at the
bosom and hem. The color suited her.

Thomas’ reaction when she entered the hall was all she could
have hoped for. His expression had been somewhere between neutral and a frown
as he talked to William Randolph, the bailiff, but it changed to astonishment
and wonder when he turned and caught sight of her.

She heard others commenting, but all her attention centered
on Sir Thomas. It pleased her that he was so very different from Groswick in
looks. His sky blue eyes could be hard and compelling, but they could also
sparkle with amusement or shine with admiration, as they did now. They were so
very unlike Groswick’s impenetrably dark eyes which never seemed to show any
emotion other than disdain or anger. And Sir Thomas’ very light blond hair
reminded her of the angels on the tapestries in the chapel. Not that anything
else about the man was so ethereal, however. He had a solid presence one could
not ignore when he was in the same room. Still, she wanted to touch his hair,
to see if it was as soft as it looked.

When their gazes met, she felt the same strange sense of
connection and sharing she’d had yesterday when she’d first seen him. It was
almost as though he could reach inside her and draw out something she barely
knew existed, or something that existed only because he was there. That strange
and different sensation made her feel a bit shaky with a combination of fear
and excitement.

“My lady, you look splendid tonight,” Thomas said. “How any
man could bring himself to leave you after setting eyes on your loveliness, I
cannot imagine.”

“You flatter me, my lord.” She couldn’t hold his gaze and
dropped her eyes.

“May I escort you to your seat?”

She nodded and placed her hand on the arm he offered. A
surge of tingling warmth spread through her fingers and up her arm, into the
rest of her body, from the spot where her hand lay on the fabric of his sleeve.
When he moved, she felt the flex of hard muscle under the linen.

It was difficult to break the connection when they arrived
at their seats. She’d never wanted to cling to anyone other than her mother,
but she had to fight a desire to put her hand back on his arm and try to hold
onto him.

He placed her in her usual spot at the left side of the
center chair. She swept an arm out to invite him to take the lord’s place. As
he was the only member of the nobility present other than herself and her
mother, courtesy demanded he have that seat. Her own desires accorded with the
requirement.

Dinner went smoothly, with the courses arriving in good
order, and well-cooked, as it always was. She watched the servants refill Sir
Thomas’ wine cup several times. She drank somewhat more than she normally would
herself, but it helped steady her nerves for what lay ahead. A group of
servants performed musical numbers they’d practiced as entertainment after
dinner. They were in fine voice and, apparently inspired by the presence of
guests, outdid themselves in both enthusiasm and melody.

As the meal concluded, before he could tell her he was ready
to bid her goodnight, she turned to him and said, “I’ve had a bath prepared for
you, my lord. I regret we had not the time to provide one last night, but we’ll
make up the lack this night.”

“And will you assist me, my lady?” he asked.

He was making this almost too easy. “Of course, my lord.
‘Tis both my duty and a pleasure in this instance.”

His smile transfigured his face, making it the most
beautiful thing she’d ever seen. It made her breath hitch in her chest and her
heart pound harder. When he stood, she did as well.

“If you’ll retire to your quarters, my lord, you’ll find the
bath awaits. Leave the door unbarred and I’ll join you in a moment.” She held
up an arm and let the wide sleeve swing free. “This is not the best choice to
wear while bathing a guest.”

“Nay. Dress more comfortably, and I’ll await your
attentions.” He bowed to her, then to everyone in the hall, and left.

Juliana hurried to her quarters, where she found her mother
waiting for her, along with her maid.

“The bath has been prepared for him,” Lady Ardsley announced
as her maid helped Juliana out of the velvet overgown.

“Mother, are you well?” Juliana asked, noting how very pale
her mother was and the way her hands shook even more than usual.

“Well enough, my love. Today has not been one of my better
days.”

That was as close as Lady Ardsley would come to admitting
she was in considerable pain.

“Go to your bed,” Juliana directed, then looked at the maid.
“Avice, settle my mother, and then fetch some of the pain tincture from the
herb room for her.”

Normally her mother protested vehemently against taking the
medicine which tasted foul and left her feeling dizzy afterward, though it did
help her sleep on her bad days. It was some measure of her condition that she
made no demurral.

The maid nodded. Her mother stopped as she was leaving and
came back to give Juliana a spasmodic hug. Then, as though embarrassed by the
display of emotion, she turned and left as fast as she was able.

Juliana watched her go, put a light wrapper over her shift,
and went down the hall to Sir Thomas’ solar. As promised, the door was
unbarred.

She peeked in. The tub sat near the fireplace in the
spacious solar allotted to important guests, and Sir Thomas sat in it. His back
was to her, his blond head resting on the side. “Come in, Lady Juliana,” he
called, without turning around to verify her identity. “I sent my squire and my
man out for a while.”

She drew a deep breath and moved into the room, searching
for the towels and soap the servants should have left. She found them on a
stool beside the tub. It took all her courage to turn around and face him.

He wasn’t as relaxed as he wanted her to think. Though his
head tilted back, apparently at rest, his eyes were narrowed and watched her
intently. His arms lay along the sides of the tub, but his fingers clutched at
the edge with more force than needed to keep him steady.

She didn’t want to stare at him, but could hardly restrain
herself. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. She’d known it from the
moment she first looked up in the great hall and met his gaze, but seeing him
now, stripped down to his skin and the essence of his being, she understood
better.

This was a man who did not need the outer trappings of
knighthood and good birth to impress. Confidence rode his shoulders like a
cloak, and nobility radiated from him in a halo echoed by his golden-blond
hair.

At the same time there was something utterly sensual about
him as well. His skin was firm and sleek over hard muscle. It almost begged her
to touch it. A light pelt of blond hair covered the center of his chest,
narrowing toward his waist. God had indeed created a creature of
near-perfection in this man, and that in itself, was enough to make her wonder
about her course. But she’d promised her mother.

Juliana moved the stool closer to the tub, set the towels
aside and sat down. She rubbed soap on a cloth and reached over to wash his
shoulder. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m somewhat awkward at this, Sir
Thomas. I’ve had few occasions to practice. You’ll tell me if I do something
that…bothers you.”

His mouth crooked into a wry grin. “I expect you’ll do any
number of things that will bother me, but I’ll tell you if any are unbearable.”

“My lord—!”

“Nay, my lady, forgive me. I’m teasing you.”

She breathed out a sigh and relaxed a little as she washed
his hand. “Of course.”

“Did you not do this for your husband from time to time?”

“Aye, though not so often as all that. In general, he
preferred to bathe alone. Or with only his manservants attending him.”

“Forgive me for speaking ill of the man, but I cannot admire
his taste or intelligence if he chose to have manservants attending him over
yourself.”

Juliana shrugged and ran the cloth up and down his arm, then
switched to his other shoulder. “‘Twas his choice. He valued his privacy.”

“Ah. I suppose I can understand that.”

Desperate to change the subject, Juliana asked, “But what
about yourself, my lord? ‘Tis strange that a man so noble and courteous and
handsome as yourself has not wed again.” She stumbled on seeing the way his
expression darkened. “Or I presume you’re not wed. Did you not say—? Am I
wrong?”

His frown was very grim. “I am not married. My one
experience with it did not encourage me to embark on the journey again.”

Juliana hesitated. “You still grieve for her.”

He remained silent for some time. Just when she’d concluded
he wouldn’t answer, he said, “I do not grieve for her. She wasn’t worth a
single tear.”

After a start of astonishment, Juliana leaned over him to
wash his other arm, and was treated to the scent of his body, his essential
manly smell. Her breasts were dangerously close to his chest. If she looked
down, she could see…Yes, the parts of him normally hidden beneath his clothes
were just as impressive as what showed.

She felt the heat rising in her face when she realized he
knew what she saw. That knowledge mixed with the hard anger still showing in
his expression.

“Not worth a tear? Surely the loss of any human being is
worth at least some grief, no matter how much they might have hurt us.”

He softened a bit. “You take on so much responsibility, ‘tis
easy to forget how young you still are,” he said.

“I’m one and twenty,” she protested. “Not so very young.”

“To an old man of near thirty, you seem like a mere child.”

She most definitely did not want him thinking of her as a
child. “You tease again, my lord. You are no old man.”

“Perhaps less so in body than in spirit. I’ve traveled too
much, seen too much of battle and other evils of this world. I’m weary of it.
Perhaps it’s your innocence of spirit that makes you seem so young.”

She carefully cleaned his right hand, working the cloth
between his fingers and over his palm. “Do not impute too much virtue to me, my
lord. I have sinned. I have sinned grievously, in truth.”

She drew back. He raised a leg to allow her easy access for
cleaning it. Juliana rubbed more soap into the cloth and set to work on his
foot.

“The Bible and the church say we are all sinners,” he
answered. “But some sin more and more vilely than others.”

The answer would surely dismay her, possibly even hurt, but
she asked anyway. “What did your wife do to hurt you so much?”

Muscles tensed in hard bunches in his calf as she washed it.

“She lied and betrayed me. She tore my family apart and
estranged me from them.”

Juliana struggled to control her reaction when she heard the
word “lied.” Her conscience, always bitterly ready to reproach her, roused and
nagged at her. She had little family—only her mother—but it had saved her at a
time when she might have found it difficult to survive otherwise. She hated for
him that he was estranged from his. “I am sorry. It must have been terrible for
you.”

He shrugged but remained tense, even as she washed his foot
and asked him to change legs. “I survived. She did not. I know not if that was
God’s justice or mercy.”

“How did she die?”

“Giving birth. The child did not survive either. Though I
buried him as my son, he was not.” His tone admitted no grief but still she
could feel the pain he would not voice. It hurt her on his behalf.

“Ah. She was unfaithful to you, then? ‘Tis hard to believe,
though, that a woman would not keep faith with someone like yourself.”

He laughed harshly, a sound that held a world of irony, but
no amusement. “I suppose she kept faith in her way, though I could not prove
it, after she’d achieved her desires and cost me much of what I held dear.”

She looked up from the knee she stroked with the cloth. “My
lord? I fear you speak in riddles.”

His smile held the same twisted irony. “Ah, well. It has
been said that I’m no easy man to understand. In this, though, ‘tis not that
it’s difficult, so much as I find it difficult to speak of.”

“You needn’t then, if you find it so painful.” Juliana put
more soap on the rag and handed it to him when she stood up. “If you would wash
yourself, my lord, I’ll begin on your hair.” She nodded toward his privates and
he took her meaning as well as accepting the cloth from her.

“‘Tis an old wound, and should not be so painful now as it
was.” He was quiet a moment while she dipped water in a tin cup and poured it
over his head to wet his hair. “Margaret was betrothed to my brother. Not
Carlwick, but my next older brother. She was a beautiful but willful young
woman, charming and spoiled. Accustomed to having her own way. I believe her
parents never denied her aught that she wanted if it were in their power to
give it to her. When she came to our home for the betrothal to my brother, she
looked at us all and decided that she wanted myself rather than Edwin.”

He sighed as she massaged the soap into his hair and relaxed
somewhat. “I cannot entirely fault her for that. Edwin is…slow in wit and not
much to look upon in truth, though he has a warm and loving heart. But the
arrangement was long made and ‘twas her duty to honor it.”