Unspoken by Francine Rivers Page B

“Perhaps David craves the company of a virtuous woman.”
    Words of retaliation rose like bile in Bathsheba’s throat, but she swallowed them. Why pour oil on the fire? Besides, what defense had she? She was faithless. She gathered her sewing, rose, inclined her head, and walked sedately from the room, refusing to give them further opportunities to stab her heart. When her chamber door was firmly closed, she crumpled to the floor and stifled her sobs with a pillow.
    She slept little that night, tortured by thoughts of David and Abigail. She rose early and walked alone in the inner garden. She sat beneath an olive tree and bowed her head, afraid to pray. Why draw God’s attention when the price for sin was death? She moved her hands slowly over her abdomen, love distracting her from her anguish. She would pour her life out for her child. David’s child.
    “Bathsheba?”
    Startled, she glanced at Abigail.
    “I’ve come from the king,” the older woman said.
    Bathsheba’s heart twisted. She clenched her hands in her lap, her stomach tightening. Did Abigail mean to gloat over the night she’d spent in David’s arms? With an effort, Bathsheba kept silent, refusing to show her feelings.
    David’s third wife studied her for a moment. “May I sit?”
    “If it pleases you.”
    Abigail took a seat beside her. “I’m not here to cause you more sorrow, Bathsheba.” She looked down and brushed imaginary dust from her dress. “David asked me last night if you are adjusting to life in the palace. I told him you’ve shown great dignity. He asked if you’ve been well, and I told him I haven’t heard you utter a word of complaint. He asked if you’ve received visitors, and I said not to my knowledge.” She gave a soft broken laugh. “I suppose our husband felt he could speak with me about these things because I’m older than he and was married to another before him. I suppose he thought I would understand your feelings better than anyone else in the palace.” She drew in her breath and released it slowly. “He also asked me if you still grieved for Uriah.”
    Fighting tears, Bathsheba stared straight ahead.
    Abigail lifted her head and turned to look at her. “I’ve never known David to ask so many questions about a wife, or to show jealousy over one. He’s always been very careful to treat each one equally to preserve peace in the household. We all vie for his attention, but he has never before found distinction among us. Last night, he let his heart be known. Not because he wanted everyone to know, but because he can’t help himself. He has a special regard for you.”
    Bathsheba sucked in a sharp breath as joy caught her off guard. She quickly dampened it when she recognized the pain in Abigail’s eyes. How many others were in love with him? “I’m sorry, Abigail.”
    Abigail understood her meaning and smiled wryly. “It is never wise to fall in love with a king.”
    “My mother told me that years ago.”
    “Your mother is wise.” She lifted her eyes. “I think David is in love with you. I don’t think he could’ve done the things he’s done otherwise.”
    Heat surged into Bathsheba’s cheeks, but strangely she heard no condemnation in Abigail’s tone, nor saw it in her eyes. She trembled. “I’m the one who sinned.” It was better for all if she took full responsibility.
    Abigail shook her head. “We’ve all sinned.”
    “ You didn’t. You warned David against sinning.” She didn’t have to add the rest—that she’d unwittingly encouraged him to do so.
    “I called my husband a fool before witnesses.”
    “You remained faithful.”
    “And waited until Nabal was sober so that I could tell him what he had done and have him understand completely. I knew his greed. I knew his arrogance. I also knew his cowardice. I spoke and watched the terror come upon him. I watched him die, and thanked God for my deliverance. And when David sent for me to be his wife, I packed in all haste and came to