‘He’s fine.’ Joss cradled him gently in her arms, soothing him. ‘I didn’t realise he was asleep, that’s all and I woke him up, poor little darling.’ She was shaking like a leaf.
Lyn noticed. She glanced at Luke, then she held out her arms for the baby. ‘Come on, Joss. You’re cold and tired. Why not have a hot bath while I get supper? I’ll take this young man and put him back to bed.’ She took Ned and gave a grimace. ‘I’ll change him quickly first. Go on. No arguments. Have a nice bath. Get Luke to bring you up a drink.’
Laying the baby down on his changing mat she began to strip off his pyjamas. Joss was just leaving the room when she heard Lyn’s sharp intake of breath, hastily swallowed. She stopped and turned, in time to see Lyn pointing to Ned’s arm. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, love. Ned’s had a bit of a bash, that’s all. I expect he’s knocked his arm against the cot.’ Lyn was frowning.
‘Let me see.’ She was frantic.
‘No need. Nothing to worry about. Hardly a mark.’ She pushed her gently out of the room and Joss found herself staring at the closed door.
Exhausted, defeated and cold she was suddenly too tired to argue. Walking slowly back into their bedroom she kicked off her wet shoes and began to unfasten her jeans. Running hot water into the huge old-fashioned bath she tipped in some bath oil and stood in front of the swiftly steaming mirror, slowly brushing her hair. How had Ned got bruised? Had she done it, when she pulled him out of the cot? It was quite possible. She had been in such a panic. Or had something else been near him. Something, or someone. Her knuckles whitened on the hairbrush. Putting it down she unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off. Then her bra. Her breasts were still heavy and blue veined; she surveyed them miserably through the condensation before turning to bend over the bath, stirring the water with a hand which still tingled with cold.
Katherine
The sound had mingled with the rush of water in her head. For a moment she didn’t react. Then slowly, she turned off the taps. The skin of her back was crawling. Not looking round she groped behind her for the towel on the rail, her fingers flailing in the air till at last they connected with it. Grabbing it she pulled it off the rail and whisked it round her.
Katherine
It was louder this time, easy to hear above the drips from the taps. She backed away from the bath. Wraiths of steam hung in the air, condensing on the walls. The water was growing cooler already as she stood with her back to the wall.
Katherine
It was stronger again. No possibility of it being her imagination. She stared round wildly, clutching the towel round her breasts.
‘You give her to me, but she does not love me!’ The king stared in anger at the woman who stood so arrogantly before him. ‘I did not want a whore, madam. You promised me love in exchange for my adoration! I take her to my bed and she lies like a wax doll in my arms!’
Turning to pick up the goblet of hot wine he did not see the woman tense at his words, nor the expression of feral cunning which flitted across the strangely golden eyes.
‘Joss? Can I come in?’ It was Luke’s voice that brought her out of her panic-stricken daze. She flung herself at the door and slid back the bolt.
‘Why on earth did you lock it?’ He had a couple of glasses with him. ‘Come on. I thought I’d talk to you while you have a soak. Lyn’s getting supper and Ned is fast asleep.’ He grinned at her then, as he noticed her white face his smile died. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ She shook her head. She was trying desperately to get a grip on herself. ‘Nothing’s the matter. I’m just much tireder and colder than I thought.’ She took the glass, sipping at the white wine gratefully. ‘Sit yourself down and talk to me.’
With him there she would be safe. Glancing round in spite of herself, she dropped the towel and hopped into the bath, lowering herself with a groan into the steaming water.
‘Better?’ Luke was watching her carefully. He could see clearly the signs of strain and agitation. Closing the lid of the loo he sat down on it and leaned forward, elbows on knees, studying his wife. She was still very beautiful, her body already more or less recovered from the birth; the only sign was a wonderful voluptuousness of breasts and belly which he found a great turn on. Leaning forward he put a hand gently on her breast. ‘Nice.’
She smiled sleepily, submerging beneath the viscous bubbles, feeling the water and Luke’s presence comforting, reassuring. Closing her eyes she reached up to touch his hand. ‘You’re sure Ned was OK?’
‘He was OK.’ His voice was calm but he frowned suddenly. The bruises on Ned’s arm had definitely been the marks of fingers. ‘Here.’ He lifted her glass and passed it to her. ‘Drink.’ Slipping onto his knees beside the bath he pulled up his sleeve and putting his hand into the water he ran his fingers down and over and round her breasts, feeling the slipperiness of the bath oil on her skin, gently massaging and rubbing, sliding his hands on down over her belly.
She took a sip of wine, giving a quiet groan of pleasure. ‘Does it matter if we’re late for supper?’
He smiled. ‘Not in the least. Lyn is putting Tom to bed. I said you’d look in later and say good night, but we both know he’ll be asleep by then.’ His hand was still moving rhythmically over her breasts making little choppy waves in the bath water.
‘Luke – ’
‘Sssh.’ He bent over and kissed her on the lips. ‘Am I going to get in there with you?’
She giggled. ‘We’d never fit.’
‘Then you’d better get out.’