The Winter Mantle

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Authors: Elizabeth Chadwick
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horrified, but behind her scolding had been avid to know more. Now the experience, the sensations were of the body, not just the curious mind. She knew that she was failing to resist temptation but found that she almost did not care. All that mattered was being closer still. Her arms slipped around his waist and her lips parted.
    Waltheof groaned and the sound filled her mouth and throat, enhancing her sensations. She wanted to answer him, but held on to the impulse, afraid of what would happen if she let go. Nothing that Sybille had told her had prepared her for this. Nothing.
    The kiss finally broke, leaving them both gasping for breath. Judith hastily took a back step, knowing that she had to put distance between herself and Waltheof while she was still capable.
    'Perhaps it is time that your mother did know,' he said, his eyes bright and narrow. 'I must have you, Judith.'
    She licked her lips, tasted him there, and felt a mingling of fear and pleasure. No man had ever made her feel like this before — but then no man had ever taken such liberties. 'I do not know if that can be,' she whispered.
    'I will make it be,' Waltheof replied in a tone that was no longer light with laughter.
    They both stiffened at the scrape of feet on the steps below, 'Judith?' Her mother's voice was querulous with impatience.
    Judith gave a single, frightened gasp then steadied herself. Gesturing Waltheof to stay back and remain silent, she started down the steps. 'I am here, Mother,' she called. Her hands were shaking, her lips felt swollen. As she descended the steps, she was aware of slick moisture between her thighs and a dull ache in her loins, reminiscent of flux pains.
    'Where have you been child?' Adelaide snapped. 'Anyone would think that you had had to stitch the hanging from the start instead of just giving it to the boy.'
    I stayed to speak a few words of comfort, Mother,' Judith said more calmly than she felt.
    Somewhat awkwardly, Adelaide turned on the narrow stair and descended to the courtyard. Once in open daylight, she fixed Judith with a gimlet stare. Reaching a narrow hand, she pressed it to her daughter's brow. 'You look feverish,' she said with sudden concern in her eyes. 'I hope that you are not ailing.'
    Judith jerked away from her mother's touch, feeling flustered and guilty. 'There is nothing wrong with me.'
    Adelaide compressed her lips. 'Even so, it might be wiser if you travelled in the wain with me. I mislike the heat in your cheeks.'
    'Mother…' Judith's voice rose with dismay, but Adelaide was adamant.
    'Do not seek to argue,' she snapped. 'These past few days you have been granted more freedom than a girl of your status is usually allowed. You will travel with me, and you will be content.'
    'Yes, Mother.' Judith knew that arguing was futile and with a supreme effort held her tongue. Behind her silence, however, her feelings churned as she imagined lashing out in rebellion. Suddenly she wished that she had not bade Waltheof remain out of sight until it was safe to come down. Suddenly she wished she had yielded to him, and smiled darkly at the notion.
    'Take that smirk off your face,' Adelaide warned. 'You are not too old to be whipped for insolence.'
    Judith lowered her gaze. Waltheof had said that he desired her to wife. Even if she was not sure that she wanted him, she was positive that life as his wife would be ten times better than dwelling beneath her mother's joyless rule.

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Chapter 5

     
    Judith threaded her needle with a single, fine strand of red-gold wool and, leaning over her embroidery frame, began to sew with swift, neat stitches. The design she was embroidering had been carefully sketched onto the linen ground in brown ink and depicted a scene of men and women riding out to hunt. Intended as a horizontal strip hanging to decorate a wall behind a dais, it was already about a third completed. The women of Duchess Matilda's household would work on the hanging when not occupied by other tasks. Since

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