The
day advanced and guests arrived en masse. Richmond kept to Arissa like a shadow
as she welcomed her guests, the massive silent protector as the horde of
well-wishers descended. When Lady Maude and Regine joined the delegation, he
was forced away from Arissa and into the role of distant guard.
As
much as he wanted to stand beside her, smelling the faint scent of gardenias,
he knew it was better that he assume a distant stance. Mentally shaking himself
and struggling to focus on something other than Arissa, he began to rove about
the crowd gathered in front of the earl and his family, his trained eyes
scanning the assembly for any signs of threat. He was not expecting any such
danger, but it was his instinct to promote a wary attitude. That way, surprises
were less likely to occur.
He
was watching the crowd so intently that he failed to notice Tad de Rydal
swagger through the admiring throng, having just come from Lambourn stables
where he had personally settled his charger. A devilishly handsome man, he
thrust himself in front of Lord de Becket and put Arissa's hand to his lips as
if he was sampling the finest nectar.
"My
lady, it has been a very long time," he said in a sickeningly seductive
tone. "You have grown more beautiful than I could have possibly
imagined."
Arissa
gazed up at the large knight, vaguely remembering the arrogant young heir to
the de Rydal fortune. "I.... thank you, my lord."
He
simply grinned, her palm still against his lips. Fairly indiscreetly, she
yanked her hand away from his obnoxious mouth and attempted to refocus on her
next guest, Baron Wendover. But Tad would not be forgotten so easily.
"Have
you an escort this day, my lady?" he said boldly. "I would consider
it an honor if you would allow me the privilege of guiding you through this
day."
"She
does indeed have an escort, Sir Tad," William was standing next to his
daughter, ever-vigilant. "We thank you for your generous offer,
however."
Tad
cocked an eyebrow. The man purely reeked of conceit. "I see. How foolish
of me to assume otherwise," his blue gaze flicked to Arissa once again.
"Your betrothed, no doubt?"
Arissa
met his conceited gaze steadily. She'd known the man less than a minute;
already, she did not like him. "My betrothed is God himself, my lord. Now,
if you will excuse me, I have other guests to attend to."
"God
himself?" Tad repeated loudly. Much to Arissa's horror, their conversation
was drawing quite an audience. "I am sure I do not understand, my
lady."
"Lady
Arissa is not meant for mortal men, Sir Tad," William said with lagging
patience. He did not like the arrogant pup, either. "She was pledged to
Whitby Abbey shortly after birth. Now, if you will...."
"Whitby
Abbey?" Tad echoed, astonished. His gaze moved between Arissa and William.
"You would allow this beautiful young woman to be wasted within the walls
of a convent? Surely you jest!"
"'Tis
no jest," Richmond suddenly appeared at Arissa's side, pulling her against
his body protectively. "You have taken a good amount of Lady Arissa and
Lord de Lohr's time. Kindly move along to enjoy the festivities this day has to
offer."
Tad
gazed at Richmond, the hostility evident. He was a large young knight, but not
nearly as large as Richmond. Obviously, he had no qualms about their difference
in size.
"Your
name, knight?" he demanded of Richmond.
Richmond's
face was emotionless. "Sir Richmond le Bec."
A
flicker of recognition crossed Tad's features. "Le Bec.... Henry's le
Bec?"
Richmond
nodded, once. Tad took a step back, although his arrogance was not entirely
shaken. "I thought.... that is to say, I grew up on stories of your valor.
I thought you would have been dead by now."
"Not
hardly," Richmond's voice was a growl. Lord de Rydal began tugging on Tad's
arm and the young knight was wise enough to heed the call. But not before he
cast a long glance at Arissa.
"My
lady, I hope you will save me a dance this eve. I shall look forward to
it."
Arissa
gave him a lop-sided smile, her only response. She would have liked nothing
better than to have outright refused the request, but it would not do for the
hostess to insult one of her guests. As the crowd around them began to disband,
Richmond clasped her tender white hand in a huge mailed fist.
"Come
along, my lady," he said firmly.
"Where?"
Arissa gathered her skirt, glancing at her father's questioning gaze.
Richmond
continued to lead her away. "I have a few duties to attend to. You may
accompany me."
"Duties?
Where?"
He
slanted her a gaze. "Away from the Tad de Rydals of this world. If you
greet any more guests, your hand will surely fall off from sheer overuse."
She
passed another glance at her father, who did not protest Richmond's removal in
the least. Instead, he had turned back to his visitors. Strange, Arissa
thought, how her father never questioned Richmond's actions, even when in
direct conflict with his own desires.
Her
father had wished for her to greet her guests. Richmond had decided she'd had
enough welcoming for the day and was determined to take her with him as he went
about his duties. Of course, she would rather be with Richmond, but she found
it odd that her father had not uttered a word of protest when the knight swept
her away.
She
skipped after Richmond, aware of his hand tightly about her own. It began to
occur to her than even while she was growing up, Richmond's word was law when
it came to her well-being and upbringing. Where Regine or Bartholomew was
concerned, her father had always had the final say in their lives. But never
with her; it had always been Richmond.
'Twas
curious that the puzzlement over Richmond's authority should happen to cross
her mind at that moment. Gazing up at his glorious profile, she couldn't
imagine why her father would allow his friend to take charge of her life in
such a fashion.
Certainly,
the truth of the matter would never have occurred to her in a million years.
CHAPTER
FOUR
The
day of the gala festivities had become a glorious example of pleasant winter
weather. The sun was shining on the cold, dead earth in a vain attempt to
deceive life from the frozen turf. As the guests finished arriving and the peasants
began to wander into the fortress from the neighboring village bearing the same
name, the gay mood saturated man and beast alike.
Penelope,
Daniel, Emma and Regine had joined Richmond and Arissa as they perused the
happening of events. As one experiences at a faire, there were a myriad of
games and entertainment going on to enthrall and captivate the guests arrived
in Arissa's honor. And none more enthralled than Arissa herself.
Jugglers
from the village were entertaining children by tossing apples about in a crazy
manner. One man held a huge arch over his head laced with bells, shaking out a
beat as he walked amongst the crowd. A few of the peasant women, with
permission from Lady Maude, had set up make-shift tables upon which they sold
beautifully sewn handkerchiefs and other sundry items.
A
group of young peasant boys brought cages full of cocks and had set up a
passable arena in which to pit one rooster against the other. Richmond passed a
glance at the group of enterprising young lads as they took bets for their
cockfights. Regine wanted to watch but he grabbed her by the shoulders,
steering the errant young girl back to her sister. He fought off a grin when
she cast him a baleful, sneering glance.
The
wrestling matches for the men had commenced a half-hour before. The finer
nobles and knights did not actually participate in the sport, but left the
brutal competition to the men-at-arms and peasants who spent long hours
training for the event. It was an exacting sport, pitting the largest and
strongest of men against each other in a battle to the finish.
It
was also the loudest game by far as Richmond and his group passed within range.
Richmond recognized some of his own men yelling encouragement to their favorite
contender, vaguely wishing he could be a part of it. He greatly enjoyed a good
sport, as William had been eager to point out. But he enjoyed Arissa more far
more than a male-dominated game; he glanced down at her, smiling at her
saucer-round eyes as she observed the excitement.
Ever-protective
of his charge, especially in light of the rowdy spectacle, he proceeded to
direct Arissa and an enthusiastic Regine clear of the wrestling. Even as he
diverted the senses of his fair young wards, Daniel had no qualms about taking
Penelope to view the event. Emma, tantalized with the thrill of seeing naked,
sweaty men, casually trailed after Penelope and Daniel.
"Emma's
going!" Regine raged. "Why can't I watch?"
Richmond
lifted an eyebrow. "Emma is a lady of fifteen. You, my dear lass, are
still too young to view such displays of flesh."
Regine
kicked at the dirt, pouting and angry. "I am not too young, Richmond le
Bec. I have seen more.... well, I have seen more than Arissa. And she’s
eighteen!"
Richmond
put his hands on his hips. "I know what you have seen, you naughty little
wench, and I shall hear no more about it. Behave yourself."
Regine
crossed her arms defiantly, turning up her nose at him and glancing to her
sister. She knew how to ease Richmond's unbending stance. It had never been a
secret.
"Riss,"
she said softly, moving toward her sister. A slip of a feigned sob escaped her
lips. "He’s being ever so cruel. Tell him that I only wish to observe,
that I won't stand too close. Please?"
Arissa's
gaze went from her baby sister to Richmond. He closed his eyes against her
beseeching gaze and turned away.
"Richmond...,"
she ventured quietly.
God's
Teeth, he'd do anything for her when she used that tone. "Nay, my lady,
your sister is far too young to view such brutality."
"Penelope
and Emma are watching," she said softly.
He
gritted his teeth against the caressing tone of her voice, unwilling to look at
her because he knew the moment he beheld the pale green eyes, all would be
lost. Regine knew it, too.
"Still,
I must refuse."
Arissa
did not say anything for a moment. "I would like to watch."
Damnation
! She knew exactly how to
manipulate him. If Arissa went to observe the match, he would be forced to
accompany her. And he couldn't very well leave Regine alone, standing by
herself.
He
turned to look at her. "Do you think that to be entirely wise? After all,
you are pledged to God, my lady, and I doubt He would approve of an
impressionable young virgin viewing men’s games of strength.”
She
smiled at him, a display of beauty so dazzling he was nearly blinded by the
sight. He watched, awed, as she approached him, curling her delicate fingers
about his massive forearm. Gazing down at her, he could scarcely breathe.
"'Tis
only a game, Richmond. It's not as if I shall be jumping in to the arena to
challenge the victor."
Unconsciously,
his free mailed hand covered her soft warm appendages. He did not even realize
he was gently caressing her. Certainly, he couldn't deny her; he'd never been
able to. He felt himself caving in to her demand like a spineless dog when,
over Arissa's shoulder, he caught sight of Regine's smirking face. Like a slap,
reality whacked him brutally in the face.
Come to your senses, you fool!
"I
must still refuse, my lady," he said, but his voice was strangely hoarse.
"Your father would not approve."
Arissa
was not overly upset. Sighing with resignation, she simply turned to her sister
and shrugged. Richmond almost laughed at the look of disbelief on Regine's
face.
Feeling
as if he had somehow managed to win a small victory, he moved away from the wrestling.
"Come, ladies," he said firmly. "More delights await us."
Like
a spoiled child, Regine danced about in disappointment before thinking better
of her embarrassing display. Kicking at the ground one last time, she moved off
in pursuit of her sister and the massive knight.
Richmond
continued to grasp Arissa's hand as they made their way towards the servant's
exit to the rear of the keep. Both iron gates were wide open, allowing peasants
and guests alike to pass to the open area beyond. A margin of clearing
separated the fortifying wall from the forest beyond, a vast manicured field
that was used for anything from sword practice to grazing horses. Today,
however, it was being prepared for the glorious main event: the archery
competition.
"Look,
Regine, the archery targets have already been raised," Arissa shielded her
eyes from the bright sun. She turned to Richmond. "Are you
competing?"
He
shrugged, folding his arms over his broad chest. "I hadn't thought on it,
truthfully."