A Lily on the Heath 4 Read Online Free Page B

part of the reason was still terribly evident: he found her to be utterly, intimidatingly beautiful. Limned by silvery moonlight, her veil slipped carelessly down to her shoulders. With her elegant, perfectly formed nose and high cheekbones outlined by the pearly light, she appeared even more comely than he recalled. Her brilliant red-gold hair blazed even in the gray night. He forced himself to look away, settling his attention onto the relative safety of her shoulder.  
    “I hope you are well, Lord Warwick,” she said, stepping even closer. Now he must look at her lips, curved into a soft, welcoming smile, and the shape of her eyes—like that of a perfect peach pit. She gave a little laugh. “It feels odd to name you so; for I have still and always did think of you only as Malcolm, a friend of my—of Gregory’s.”
    “I care not if you call me Malcolm,” he said with a shrug. Then, realizing she’d given him an opening, he added, “’Twas a tragedy, Gregory’s death. I have heard….” He hesitated. “Is it true Mal Verne slayed him?”
    She nodded, her smile fading slightly. “Aye. ’Twas even before Gregory and I were able to marry. But Gavin has overpaid his penance for the deed—and ’twas an unfortunate circumstance all around. Gregory was involved in an ugly scheme—one he should never have been part of. Thus, I hold no grudge against Gavin, and he has finally come to accept that. He is well now, and recently wed. And tell me of your father. Lord John? What happened?”
    The pang of grief still nudged at him, though it had been years. “A growth overtook his belly, and he died in his bed after a long illness. ’Twas five years past.”
      “I’ve heard you only arrived in Clarendon this day. What brings you so far from home?” she asked, and Mal wondered if she meant to keep him conversing all the night.  
    Why did he feel so itchy, so impatient? So…unsure of himself? ’Sblood, he wasn’t the awkward, green boy he’d been when last they met. His irritation with himself grew and he responded more bluntly than he meant. “I’ve come to petition the king, for I’m in need of a wife.”
    The moment those words left his lips he realized that for the first time ’twas a possibility—although a far-reaching one—that Judith of Kentworth could be his wife. As soon as the thought formed, a heady rush of heat flooded his body, making him light of head…then was followed immediately by a sharp chill that left him feeling slightly ill. Nay. He wouldn’t even consider the prospect. She was…not suitable for him.
    “Did you not wed Sarah of Glawstering?” she asked, seemingly insistent on learning every event that had overtaken his life in the last seven years. Would she soon ask him how many moons it had been since he last saw his mother? Or how many times he’d gone to a shire’s faire?
    But despite his desire to end the conversation and get away from the woman, he must respond. “Lady Sarah and I were wed as planned, but a fever claimed her four summers ago.”
    “I’m very sorry,” Judith said, her eyes so very large and steady, fastened upon him. Although he couldn’t see their color, he knew they couldn’t have changed from the clear blue sapphire hue they’d been when he and she were younger. “Did you have any children?”  
    A daughter. But he didn’t say it aloud. “Lady Judith, do you not allow me to keep you from your business,” he said, gesturing to the mews. “I am certain we shall speak again while I’m here at court.” But as little as possible for the duration of my visit. For he didn’t care for the unsettled way she made him feel. As if he were a young, green, awkward boy again. “Mayhap I should allow you to continue with your task so Holbert can be relieved before the moon rises too high.”
    Judith looked at him speculatively, but to his surprise, she merely nodded at his suggestion. “I’m certain Sir Holbert will appreciate your