William
removed his hand from Richmond's shoulder and returned to his trencher
over-filled with mutton. "Retire from your destiny? Pure foolishness, I
say. Owen Glendower's days are limited with Hotspur and Richmond le Bec leading
the fight. England shall undoubtedly triumph."
Richmond
did not say anything. A man of few words and limited expression, he
concentrated on his meal. In truth, he was simply happy to be back at Lambourn
and took the opportunity to fill his empty belly with food and soothe his weary
body with fine ale. William, being a glutton of unbelievable proportions,
reputably served the very best food and drink in all of Southern England.
Richmond
and the earl were not alone at the table. Richmond silently acknowledged
Carlton, a man he had known an exceedingly long time, and his daughter, the
Lady Penelope. To Penelope's left sat Sir Daniel Ellsrod, a powerful young
knight with an aggressive attitude. Richmond himself had knighted the man a
year ago.
The
rest of the table's inhabitants were the usual group; Lady Maxine had joined
them, as had Lady Livia Trevor and her daughter Emma. Lady Livia's husband, Sir
Edward Trevor, had been killed in the skirmish for the throne against Richard
II. Lord William had pledged his men to Henry's service and Edward had,
unfortunately, lost his life.
The
missing members that usually rounded out the meals were conspicuously absent.
Lady Maude herself was truant, as were Lady Regine, William and Maude's
twelve-year-old daughter, and her older brother Bartholomew. And, of course,
Arissa. Richmond did not miss the younger sister and the older brother as much
as he did the middle sibling.
In
fact, it was more than a need to see her. It was the desire to make sure she
was healthy and whole, as had been his sworn duty for eighteen years. When Lady
Maxine mentioned Arissa's illnesses, he found himself longing for a glimpse of
the young woman simply to see for himself that her health had returned. Henry
would not react well to his daughter suffering from less-than-perfect vigor. Neither
would Richmond.
As
Arissa's Guardian, he was as concerned for her vitality as if the world
depended on it. 'Twas his duty to see that she was reared physically unscathed
and mentally nourished, a task he was sworn to excel at. It was a duty he
accepted more deeply than any other responsibility he had been delegated simply
because Arissa meant more to him than anything else on this earth.
He
thought his feelings to be a sick obsession, these emotions he harbored for the
Lady Arissa. God's Teeth, he was over twice her age. Nearing forty years, he
was far too old and far too beneath her station for his feelings to pose any
true meaning in the greater scheme of his life.
At
his age, he should have been married long ago. He should be enjoying his sons,
offspring that would carry on his name and legacy. He should be enjoying a
lovely wife warming his bed when, in fact, his bed had been cold for some time
now. He hadn't even taken a whore in three years simply because he couldn't
focus on any female other than his rapidly-maturing charge.
He
had watched Arissa grow from a sweet, fat baby into a woman of unbelievable
beauty. He simply couldn't remember when he had first fallen in love with her;
sometime after her sixteenth birthday, he thought, when she had crossed the
delicate barrier into maidenhood and he found himself realizing that she was no
longer a child.
"I
understand Lady Arissa has been ill," he finally said between bites. He
couldn't help himself from asking.
William
snorted into his goblet. "The silly little wench. Damn near caught her
death of chill the last time, traipsing about in the woods after a fresh rain
in search of fall blossoms. Daniel found her three hours later, huddled under a
tree and swathed in damp clothing. We sincerely thought we might lose her, with
the fever that followed."
"Fever?"
Richmond turned his blue eyes to the earl. "'Twas severe?"
"Severe
enough. She lay burning for two days before it broke."
Richmond
sighed deeply, returning to his food with a waning appetite. "I must be
certain to speak with her," he said softly, for William's ears only.
"Her father will not be pleased that she has jeopardized her health in
such a manner."
William
glanced about the table casually to make sure they were not being overheard. No
one, save Maude, knew of Arissa's true parentage. He wanted to keep it that
way.
"I
have already scolded her, Richmond," he said quietly. "But speak with
her if it will ease your mind."
Richmond
set down his spoon; his appetite had vanished and he felt the need to down the
calming contents of his chalice. The other occupants of the table were engaged
in their own conversations and he felt comfortable speaking briefly on a
secretive subject.
"He’s
not pleased that you have decided to throw her a large party for her
birthday," he said in a hushed voice, settling back in his chair. Henry
was never mentioned by name in their conversations; merely as 'He'. "Too
many opportunities for His enemies to approach her."
"No
one knows of her heritage," William replied in a quiet, even tone.
"How is it possible His enemies would discover her to be His bastard?"
"You
would be surprised what His enemies know. The walls have ears at Windsor."
"Eyes
and an appetite as well, I would wager," William set his chalice to the
table. "I have no fear for her safety now that you are here."
Richmond
was silent for a moment. "Where is she?"
"Truthfully,
I do not know," his gaze sought out Lady Maxine and Lady Livia at the far
end of the table. "Where is Arissa?"
"She
was not feeling well, my lord," Maxine answered. "She’s resting in
her room."
"Not
feeling well?" William's brow furrowed. "What is the matter with
her?"
"Fatigue,
my lord," Maxine said. "She’s quite excited for the party
tomorrow."
Richmond
had had enough wondering and worrying over Arissa's health. She'd never been a
particularly robust individual and to hear that her vigor was lacking once
again only reinforced his desire to see for himself.
But
he controlled it well. He finished the wine in his goblet and complete drained
a third cup before bothering to excuse himself from the table. As casually as
he could manage, he strolled from the gallery and into the foyer, focusing on
the massive flight of stone steps laid wide before him.
His
destination was the second floor.
CHAPTER
TWO
"Do
not be so miserable, child. So he’s returned? Ye wanted him to return, did ye
not?"
Arissa
sat on a splintered old stool, her elbows braced on the table before her and
chin resting in her hands. The expression on her features was one of utter,
complete misery.
"Nay,”
she groaned. Then she reconsidered. “Aye, I guess I did. Oh, Mossy, I am simply
not sure of anything anymore. But I do know one factor; I am pledged to the
convent at Whitby and come the New Year, I am obliged to keep my appointment. I
must forget about....
everything
in order to begin a new life devoted to
God."
Mossy
turned from the skunk he had been feeding. Aged did not quite encompass the
man; ancient was a more apt term. As Lady Maude's great-uncle on her mother's
side, he was as old as God himself and mayhap as wise. At least, Arissa thought
him to be wise. Everyone else thought him to be bordering on senility.
"Ye
would forget about Richmond?" Mossy prodded gently. "Surely, child,
ye cannot forget a man ye've known yer entire life. The man ye love."
Arissa
lowered her gaze. "I.... I never said I loved him."
Mossy
snorted loudly as spittle flew from his mouth. "Ye did not have to, Riss. I
have known ye since ye were a little scrub. There are no secrets between
us."
Arissa
let out an exasperated sigh and rose from the stool, wandering aimlessly
towards one of the three lancet windows that illuminated Mossy's sanctuary.
Situated in Lambourn's only tower, it was a wonderful place of curiosity and
learning. Lord William thought it to be a den for demons.
"I
am pledged to the cloister," she said softly as she gazed out over her
beloved Berkshire. "Moreover, Richmond is my father's friend. He’s far too
old and far too prestigious, and.... oh, Mossy, ‘tis a waste of time and
effort. I am so very weary of it all."
Mossy
collected a small bowl and moved to a reed cage that housed a family of
rabbits. From the open beams above, a large crow screamed and he waved at it
irritably. "Ye're next, Samuel, keep yer patience," he opened the
rabbit cage. "It would seem to me that ye must settle the matters in yer
heart before ye pledge yerself to God. He wants ye fully, completely, not
distracted and miserable. As any man would want ye whole, so does our
Lord."
She
watched him as he fed the bunnies. "I haven't a choice in the matter. In
one month, whole or not, I enter Whitby."
Mossy
did not reply until he finished feeding the rabbits. When he closed the cage,
he returned to the cluttered table in the center of the room. "God doesn't
want ye if yer unhappy. Our Lord wants his children to be happy."
She
leaned against the wall, her beautiful face pensive. "I shall never be
happy."
Mossy
looked up sharply, gazing at her striking profile. "And why not?"
She
did not say anything for a moment. Her pale green eyes gazed into the dim space
of the tower room, one prevalent thought filling her mind.
"You
know why."
Slowly,
Mossy returned to the disarray before him. "Ye must tell him."
Arissa
let out a harsh gasp, a reflexive gesture to a suggestion she herself had never
considered because it was completely outlandish. "Tell him what? Stop
antagonizing me, Mossy. I have no desire to play games."
"What
games?"
It
wasn’t Mossy’s voice that asked the question. Arissa started so violently that
she hit her head against the stone wall. Hand to her head, she whirled to the
open tower door to find Richmond gazing at her.
A
very rare smile creased his lips as he took timid steps into the room.
"What games?” he asked, almost gently. “I thought I was your game partner,
the only person worthy of your masterful skills."
She
couldn't speak. Staring into his brilliant blue eyes, she could barely breathe.
Arissa realized six months had done nothing to ease her feelings for him. If
anything, they were stronger than before, devouring her until she could do
nothing but quiver like an idiot in his presence. He was more beautiful, more
magnificent, more powerful than she had remembered. The man improved with age
like a fine wine.
"Ah,
the mighty le Bec has returned," Mossy said fondly, covering for Arissa's
shock. "It has been a long time, my lord. Have ye found a wife yet?"
Richmond's
rare smile grew. "Not yet," he slanted a glance at Arissa. "The
only woman worthy of my auspicious station is preparing to join a convent.
Alas, there is no one else." He winked boldly to let her know he was
jesting.
But
to Arissa, his gently uttered statement was the embodiment of her deepest
desires. Jesting or not, his words carved deep into her heart and she knew that
she must leave his presence immediately before she said or did something
regretful. Not that she wanted to leave his company; not at all. Only that she
knew she had to leave before... before....
She
bolted from the wall, dashing across the cluttered room. Stunned, Richmond
watched her race from the chamber as if the Devil himself were nipping at her
heels. He was so surprised at her behavior that he did not think to stop her;
only when he heard her delicate footfalls rapidly descend the stairs was he
jolted into action.
"Arissa!"
he called after her.
He
took a step toward the door, intent on pursuing her, when a sharp voice halted
his momentum.
"My
lord!"
Mossy
was moving toward him, faster than Richmond had ever seen the old man move.
"Leave her be," Mossy said sternly. Gazing into Richmond's piercing,
puzzled eyes, he sought to clarify his statement. "She... she’s overcome
with excitement for the gala tomorrow. She’s not slept a wink and is likely to
be edgy."
"Edgy?"
Richmond repeated sharply. "Mossy, she was damn well panicked. I must go
after her."
Mossy
put his hand on Richmond's massive forearm, his manner calming. "Mayhap
later, my lord. She needs to... recover."
Richmond's
brow furrowed, thoroughly perplexed. "Recover from what?"
Mossy
did not dare elaborate. Turning away from the powerful knight, he meandered
back to his cluttered table.
"I
implore ye to allow Arissa to rest, my lord," he said evenly. "Ye're
well aware of her fragile health and she’s in for a busy day on the
morrow."
Richmond
gazed at the old man a moment, deeply puzzled and concerned. He'd never seen
Arissa appear so off balance, and her state distressed him. He couldn't recall
saying anything offensive or so terribly horrifying that she should flee his
company like a scared chicken.