Lasses, Lords, and Lovers: A Medieval Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “The nooning meal will not wait,” she clapped her hands sharply and beckoned to her daughter and friends. “In the hall, ladies.”

  “Richmond le Bec is approaching,” Penelope told her mother. “Would it not be polite to wait for him?”

  “Lord William is already partaking of the meal. Richmond will be welcome when he arrives,” Maxine turned her gaze to Arissa. “My lady, your mother wishes for you to greet Sir Richmond in her stead. She’s indisposed at the moment and asks that you take him in hand.”

  Arissa swallowed hard, fighting the urge to deny the request. How could she forget him if she were forced to greet him? She did not respond immediately and Lady Maxine peered closely at her.

  “Are you feeling well, my lady? You look rather pale.”

  Arissa swallowed again. “I…. nay, I am not feeling at all well. Maxine, would you please greet Richmond in my stead? I must…. rest.”

  Maxine did not hesitate; Arissa’s delicate health was well-known and not to be trifled with. “Of course, my lady. We cannot have the guest of honor ill at her own party. Go and rest; I shall tend to Sir Richmond.”

  Arissa did not linger. She moved past Penelope and Emma, making a break for the flight of stairs that led to the second floor of the castle. By the time she hit the second step, she was running.

  Anything to put distance between her confusion and Richmond.

  *

  Seated atop a magnificent coal-hued charger, Sir Richmond le Bec drank in the sight of Lambourn castle. A well-designed Norman bastion, he felt as if he were coming home again. God only knew, he’d spent a good portion of his adult life within the old walls.

  As the edifice loomed closer, he couldn’t help but feel a stab of sorrow. ’Twould most likely be his last visit for a very long time and he was grieved by the thought. For eighteen years Lambourn had been a part of his existence, always on his thoughts, always in his prayers. For eighteen years it had been a physical part of him as much as an arm or a leg or a lung.

  But that time was drawing to a close. His mission, entrusted to him eighteen years ago, was coming to a conclusion as the New Year rapidly approached. He honestly did not know how he was going to continue with his existence once Lambourn had faded into the recesses of his mind; all of this, the keep, its occupants, its day-to-day continuance, was a portion of his soul.

  The bridge was down, welcoming him warmly and sharpening his sense of sorrow. Several soldiers called out to him as he entered the massive bailey, but he did not respond. He was used to the adoration, the respect. Forcing his gloomy thoughts aside, he dismounted his snappish charger and was immediately met by the Lady Maxine de Long.

  “My lord Richmond,” she dipped in a practiced curtsy. “We are blessed once again with your presence.”

  He passed a rapid gaze over Lady Maude de Lohr’s woman. “’Tis good to be back. Where’s William?”

  “Lord de Lohr is in the gallery involved in the nooning meal,” Maxine replied. “He commands you to join him immediately.”

  Richmond nodded absently, moving to his steed and unfastening his saddlebags before the groom led the animal away. “I have been gone for quite some time. I trust all has been well.”

  “For the most part, my lord,” Maxine nodded. “Lord William and Lady Maude have enjoyed good health, as have Lady Regine and Master Bartholomew.”

  He focused on her for the first time. “What of Lady Arissa?”

  “She’s suffered two rather severe bouts with the cough,” Maxine replied, offering a helpless shrug. “She’s quite fond of the outdoors, as you know. She managed to catch the chill more than once and it settled in her chest.”

  Richmond felt himself softening, hoping his change in demeanor was not obvious. “’Tis of no surprise. She insists on sticking to the woods to collect her silly flowers. I cannot count the times I have nearly frozen solid acting as her escort on such occasions. One of these days, she’s going to catch her death.”

  “That is what the physic seems to think,” Maxine replied. “He’s told Lady Maude that Arissa’s lungs are terribly weakened. She may not be fortunate enough to recover the next time.”

  Richmond stared at her a moment. Then, mayhap a bit more subdued, he focused on the familiar castle once again. “William is expecting me,” he said quietly.

  Maxine watched him stroll across the compound. Being female, it was only natural that she respond to Richmond le Bec’s physical qualities; the man was positively striking. To gaze upon his male beauty was to experience a giddy fluttering of the heart; being married did not mean she was immune. She, too, appreciated a fine-looking man.

  *

  William de Lohr, a massive man of rotund girth, was well into his trencher by the time Richmond arrived. He greeted his friend warmly and pulled out a chair for him to sit. While the servants rushed about in their eagerness to serve the great knight, William put a meaty hand on his shoulder.

  “Six months you have been gone,” he said in his typical overbearing manner. “Six damnable months. I thought you had forgotten us.”

  Richmond cocked a dark eyebrow, bringing a hunk of bread to his lips. “Hardly. I have been with Henry, as you well know. There has been quite a bit happening in London.”

  William snorted, giving Richmond a shake so that the bread missed his mouth and ended up scraping his cheek. “I know, I know. The damn Welsh are increasing their rebellious pressure. But Henry has you and young Henry Percy to defend his holdings. Surely the threat is not terribly severe.”

  Richmond brushed at the crumbs on his cheek and tried again. “Hotspur is in Wales as we speak. God’s Teeth, the man has more responsibilities than I do, if such a thing is possible. He, nor I, needs the added burden of the growing Welsh rebellion. I was rather hoping to retire from this madness at my age.”

  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 Great Protector, 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 wa
s 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 completely 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 fo
r 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?”