The Winter Mantle by Elizabeth Chadwick

gritty sound on the stone floor. Votive candles burned by the hundred on prickets and candelabra, tended by monks from the abbey. Before the alter knelt yet more pilgrims, praying, paying their respects, reverently touching the ornate box containing the phial of the Holy Blood of Christ that was held by a watchful priest.
    Waltheof sought among the gathering of bowed heads and found her kneeling at the edge and just a little apart. Self-contained as always. Her head was bent towards her clasped hands and her eyes were closed, revealing a smoothness of lid lined by thick dark lashes. Squeezing amongst the pilgrims, Waltheof knelt in the space that she had left between herself and them.
    She opened her eyes at the intrusion. The haughty stare she had been about to give him widened into one of recognition and then grew wary. Waltheof responded with a smile and bowed his neck, attending to the letter of worship if not giving the task his full concentration.
    For perhaps a quarter candle notch they knelt side by side. Several pilgrims rose and departed, their places taken by others. The sound of suppressed coughs, of shuffling footsteps and the murmur of worship echoed against the stone vaulting.
    'One of the maids told me where you were,' Waltheof said to his clasped hands.
    'I came to pray for the recovery of Simon de Senlis,' Judith said stiffly.
    'Indeed, that is my own reason for being here,' Waltheof replied, being selective with the truth. He was sure that God would understand.
    The silence fell between them again, but it was communicative. Waltheof felt as if there was a high wall separating him and Judith, but that somehow he had managed to pull a slab out of the centre and could now glimpse her through the ensuing gap.
    When she rose to leave he rose with her and escorted her out, one hand lightly beneath her elbow. It was indicative of the breach in the wall that she accepted his touch and did not draw away, but in the wide sunlit porch she turned to him. 'What you said earlier today, about God's will,' she said, 'you made me feel ashamed.'
    'I am sorry, my lady, that was not my intention.'
    'I know it was not. You were trying to offer comfort.' Her lips curved in a rare smile. 'And in a way, you did — after I had the time to think.'
    Waltheof wanted nothing more than to pull her against him and kiss her, but he clenched his fists at his sides and reminded himself that he wanted to live. 'I suppose that is mete since I often speak my mind without thinking at all. Abbot Ulfcytel always told me that it was my greatest failing and my saving grace.' He fell into step beside her, reluctant to let the moment go. He sensed a similar mood in Judith, for as they left the abbey precincts she did not attempt to distance herself from him, although there were many witnesses to see them walking together.
    'There has been one matter I have thought about ever since that first day in Rouen, though,' he murmured. 'And I have kept it inside my head until sometimes I feel my brains will burst with the effort of holding back.'
    She lifted her head to him and he saw that she took his meaning, for her cheeks grew pink. 'If it is so important to your wellbeing, then you must approach my uncle and my stepfather for guidance,' she said adroitly.
    'That I know,' he sighed. 'But perhaps it is better to bide my time until my feet are on more solid ground.' He paused in the shadow of a wall, aware that they were almost at the palace and in a moment he would lose her to the public space of the great hall. 'And before I make my bid, I need to know that I am not embarking on a fool's errand.' The hand that had been at her elbow now slipped down the inside of her forearm and sought her hand. Her skin was cool and dry, but he felt the sweat spring suddenly and heard her intake of breath.
    'I want you to wife,' he muttered and turned her hand to look at the palm and narrow, smooth fingers. 'Are you willing?' Lust pounded through him; heat pulsed at his