Lasses, Lords, and Lovers: A Medieval Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  The nooning hour came to bear and guests and peasants alike were treated to a sumptuous fare. Roast rabbit, gamecock, venison, and pork were displayed on open flame. Half of the men forewent the trenchers and ate the meat directly off the spit. Since the main dining tables were being used to display the mounds of carefully prepared food, guests collected all they could carry and wandered about in search of a quiet eating place.

  Arissa saw the meal as her opportunity to be rid of Tad, but he saw it as a chance to share a trencher with a beautiful lady. Several times she attempted to excuse herself, but he would merely grab hold of her arm and laugh.

  She stood by impatiently as he ordered one of his manservants to bring them a plate of food, turning away deliberately when his gaze raked over her in a suggestive manner. She was growing to hate him more and more by the second.

  The servant brought a trencher overfilled with meat and bread. Tad ordered Arissa to sit underneath a bulky-stoned lancet window as he cut the meat with his dagger.

  “Truly, Sir Tad, I am not hungry,” she said for the tenth time. “You may enjoy your food alone.”

  “I do not wish to enjoy it alone, I wish to enjoy it with you,” he said, his mouth full. He sawed on another piece of pork and held it out for her. “Here, beautiful lady. ’Tis most delightful.”

  She turned away from him without a word. He shoved the meat into his own mouth instead. “What’s the matter? Are you not enjoying yourself?”

  She’d had her fill of manners and protocol. She simply wanted to be away from him, no matter what it took. Polite requests had gone ignored. It was time to delve into serious insults.

  “Nay, I am not,” she said frankly, fixing him with a hard gaze. “I was polite to you this morn when I offered to escort you. You, however, have managed to keep me to yourself far longer than I would have hoped for. In short, sirrah, I have other guests to attend to. You certainly are not the only one.”

  He looked genuinely surprised. “I had no idea you felt so, my lady. I thought we were getting along quite well.”

  She stood up, brushing at her surcoat primly. “Mayhap in your own mind, my lord. As for me, I must be on my way. Good day to you.”

  “Arissa!” he suddenly leapt up, blocking her exit. “Have I offended you somehow? Your manner is most perplexing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “My manner is the result of your boorish conversation. One more word from your mouth regarding the overall coinage invested in your wardrobe and I shall surely scream. Now, if you will please excuse me.”

  He reached out and grabbed her arm, a most unfriendly gesture. His tone had changed as well. “Foolish wench. Do you not know courting talk when you hear it?”

  Her mouth opened in surprise. “Courting talk? ’Tis you who are the fool, Sir Tad. Did you not hear my father tell you that I am pledged to the church?”

  “I heard him. The man is an idiot.”

  Arissa was outraged. “How dare you speak of my father that way!”

  His grip tightened and, suddenly, Arissa was pulled up against his cold, armored chest. “He’s a fool to allow a woman of your beauty to be wasted in servitude to a God we cannot see. You, darling, were made for a man’s pleasure.”

  Somewhere, Arissa heard a faint chime, like the wind toying with bells hung on a string. Next she realized, a very large broadsword was pressed against Tad’s face. She could see her own reflection in the brilliant steel.

  “I will give you less than a second to release Lady Arissa or you forfeit your life.”

  Arissa’s heart soared at the sound of Richmond’s voice, deadly and sincere. Instantly, Tad released his grasp and she stumbled away from him, moving to seek protection behind Richmond’s massive body.

  Even though Arissa was safe, Richmond did not drop the sword; instead, he seemed to take peculiar delight in caressing the cold steel against the end of Tad’s nose. The knight stood like stone, watching the blade with crossed-eyes.

  “Are you well, kitten?”

  “Fine, Richmond.”

  The sword was sheathed faster than the human eye could comprehend. Arissa, relieved that Richmond had detoured her over-zealous suitor, wrapped her arms about his armored waist and peered at Tad from behind Richmond’s massive frame.

  “Be gone with you,” Richmond growled. “If I see you so much as glance in my lady’s direction, you will know the true meaning of pain.”

  Tad backed up a step, his outrage overcoming his initial shock. “What goes on between Lady Arissa and myself is none of your affair, Sir Richmond.”

  “I beg to differ. Her welfare has always been my concern.”

  Tad came to a halt in his quest to leave the area. The massive keep was casting long shadows in the bailey from the afternoon sun, shielding the three of them from the bright glare. Even though there was moderate activity in the bailey, their exchange went completely unnoticed.

  “You are too old to fight a young man’s duel, le Bec,” Tad said in a low, nearly mocking tone. “The next man you tread upon may not be as generous as I.”

  Richmond almost looked amused. “You are most generous to obey my command, my lord. However, it is difficult to hold a sword when your hands are shaking like a woman’s.”

  “Woman indeed! I shall show you a woman,” he whirled, searching desperately for any man with a weapon. “You! Yes, you! Bring me your staff!”

  “No, Tad!” Arissa emerged from behind Richmond. “That staff is no protection against his sword!”

  Tad glared at her. “You started this, and I shall end it,” his hostile gaze came to rest on Richmond as he tightened his leather gloves. “You are an idiot, old man. How dare you provoke my wrath. I shall crumble your ancient bones and grind them into the earth. How easy this shall be!”

  Richmond did something then that Arissa had never seen him do. He burst out laughing like a giddy fool, howling until his eyes ran with tears. Arissa stood by, her mouth open in astonishment, as he nearly wept into his hand.

  “A priceless statement, my young friend,” he snorted, wiping at his eyes. Taking a deep breath to regain his control, he moved to unsheathe his sword. “It has been a pleasure provoking your wrath.”

  A puzzled de Rydal soldier handed Tad a large, leather bound staff. The knight yanked it away savagely, immediately spinning the pole in an expert, controlled fashion. Richmond’s smile faded as he gently pushed Arissa away from him.

  “Stand over there, kitten,” he said softly. “This should not take long.”

  Eyes wide, Arissa obeyed. Richmond kept his eyes on Tad even as he was aware of her bright green surcoat fading from his line of sight. When the grass-hued garment vanished, he cocked an eyebrow at the young knight.

  “Well? Make your move if you must.”

  “A rather confident attitude.”

  “’Tis I who bear the blade, not a rotting stick.”

  Tad stopped twirling the staff, bringing it to bear in a defensive horizontal position. His blue eyes gleamed with menacing delight as he prepared to humiliate one of Henry’s greatest knights.

  “Mayhap after this beating you shall leave the fighting to the youngers, le Bec. You are too old for this kind of work.”

  The corners of Richmond’s mouth twitched, the threat of a smile pending. He was not about to reply to the insult dealt; he was fully prepared to allow his actions to answer in lieu of pretty words.

  Arissa watched the entire event unfold; even so, she would have been unable to describe Richmond’s skill in words. Every phrase that came to mind was far too tame for a man of his considerable talent. Before her disbelieving eyes, an amazing thing happened.

  Richmond gave no outward indication that he was preparing to strike; some men were known to crouch, others to twitch, still others to yell. One moment, Richmond was standing stock still; in the next, his blade was sailing towards Tad in a blinding arc and the length of staff extending beyond Tad’s right hand suddenly clattered to the hard dirt. In the next second, Richmond’s blade was s
ailing through the air once again and the measure of leather-bound wood extending beyond Tad’s left hand was chopped cleanly free. It, too, fell to the ground.

  Arissa barely saw Richmond bring the broadsword up in front of Tad, a swift upstroke that cleaved the wooden staff in two equal pieces of kindling. Before she could draw another breath, Tad was left holding two measly sticks where had once been lodged a mighty pole.

  Richmond displayed a faint smile at Tad’s astonished expression as he sheathed his weapon. “As you were saying?” he asked drolly.

  Tad, jaw slack, gazed at the two pieces of wood in his fisted grasp. His mouth closed and he swallowed hard, focusing Richmond with a look bordering on anger.

  “You…. you never gave me a chance,” he stammered. “That was not a fair fight!”

  Richmond’s smile vanished. “Fair enough. Since you leave with your life, you may consider it a victory on your part. But know that my mercy only applies once. The next time, I will do far more than make firewood out of your staff.”

  Tad dropped the remnants of his weapon. “You would not be so brave if I was bearing a sword, le Bec.”

  “But you are not, and I am growing weary of your spoiled antics,” he turned toward Arissa. “Come, my lady. The archery competition is about to begin.”

  Shaking with fury, Tad watched Richmond lead Arissa toward the game field. Being humiliated in front of the lady was bad enough, but being shamed in the presence of his men was a nightmare. He could feel their stares on his back, silently laughing at the arrogant young knight. He knew they thought him to be a fool for challenging Sir Richmond.

  Damn le Bec! Certainly, his actions would not go unchallenged. Tad knew that the archery competition was a perfect opportunity to redeem himself in the eyes of Arissa and his men alike. He had signed on as a competitor earlier in the day and was quite confident that he would emerge the victor. Sir Richmond would suffer a taste of his own medicine. Worse, even.

  With an angry grunt, Tad kicked aside the pieces of staff and stomped in the direction of the archery field, a distorted sense of vengeance flooding his soul.

  He would pay.

  *

  By the time Arissa and Richmond reached the archery field, the entire area was swarming with excited guests and soldiers. There were no lodges to house the crowd as was usual in competition, so the majority of the audience settled to the north side of the field, forming a semi-circle around the targets constructed for the competitors.

  Penelope, Emma and Regine were waiting for her. Richmond silently led her to The Horde, depositing her in the midst of the chatty young ladies. Arissa turned to him, tongue-tied since the moment he had so easily dispatched Tad de Rydal. Truthfully, she was so awed by his display that she hadn’t known what to say.

  Richmond met her gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips. “And now, my lady, I shall proceed to win this competition in your honor.”

  She grasped him before could turn away. “Richmond,” she stammered, swallowing when he refocused his blue eyes on her. “I…. thank you for defending me against Tad. If you hadn’t come along when you did….”

  “I was always there,” he said softly. “You should know by now that I am my lady’s shadow.”

  Her cheeks washed a lovely shade of pink and she smiled shyly. “I know that. But, still, I am glad you were there to save me.”

  His gaze lingered on her. “I will always be there to save you. Always.”

  He strolled away, leaving Arissa flushed. It was amazing how their relationship had changed since his arrival yesterday. Warm looks and gentle gestures that had meant nothing but companionable fondness in the past had suddenly taken on a heat she could not describe. She had convinced herself earlier that all of it was a figment of her over-active imagination, a young maiden’s unattainable wish. Now, she was not so sure.

  “What did you mean when you said he saved you from Tad?” Emma was suddenly tugging on her sleeve.

  Jolted from her thoughts, Arissa turned to her friend. She remembered Emma’s expressed desire to meet Tad and silently cursed herself for having been so forgetful. She should have thought of Emma when Tad had approached earlier, but she had been so desperate to escape Richmond that she had completely overlooked the fact.

  In truth, she was glad she hadn’t remembered. She did not think the sweet, youthfully-pretty girl to be the conceited knight’s idea of beauty. She would rather have Emma angry with her forgetfulness than for the young woman to have experienced Tad’s cruel rebuff.

  “I…. Tad was a bit too eager to impress me, I believe, and Richmond cooled his manner. ’Twas nothing, really.” She hastened to change the subject before Emma could press. “Do you know that he asked who the pretty young girl was in the blue surcoat? Since Penelope is wearing yellow, I assumed he meant you.”

  As she hoped, Emma’s face positively glowed. “He did? Oh, Riss, you must introduce us!”

  “What about Gavan?” Arissa cocked an eyebrow.

  Emma waved her hand impatiently. “Gavan isn’t here. I haven’t seen the man in months. When Richmond arrived without his second-in-command, I would assume I must find my male companionship elsewhere.”

  Arissa repressed a smile. For Emma to speak of her cherished knight so callously was comical, indeed. And completely untrue. But she played the game for her friend’s benefit.

  “So you have decided to forget about Gavan. ’Tis understandable, truly, considering he’s been away so long that he’s probably forgotten about you,” when Emma’s face flushed a dull red, Arissa struggled to suppress her wicked grin. “As for Tad, my darling, he’s terribly shy. In fact, the only reason he addressed me was because we had met earlier and he felt comfortable in my company. Do not be disappointed if he does not show an immediate interest. Why, I think….”

  Regine suddenly thrust herself forward, her blue eyes bright. “Riss, I am wearing a blue surcoat, too. Mayhap he meant me!”

  Arissa gazed at her younger sister, noting that she too was wearing a blue dress. The original lie to ease her friend’s feelings was suddenly growing in unattractive directions. Before she could respond, Emma was whirling on Regine.

  “Of course he did not mean you!” she snarled. “You are a child, Regine, a mere child. A man of Tad de Rydal’s station would not be interested in you.”

  Regine put her hands on her plump hips, meeting Emma’s scowl. “Is that so? You are no prize either, Emma Trevor. Why do you think Daniel chose Penelope over you?”

  Arissa cleared her throat loudly, separating the combatants before the situation grew ugly. “I am sure he meant Emma, Regine, simply for the fact that she happens to be older and more….” she glanced at Emma’s rounded breasts as opposed to the two peas underneath Regine’s bodice, “…. womanly.”

  Flushing madly, Regine turned away as Emma grasped Arissa’s arm eagerly. “When will you introduce us, Riss? Did he say anything else about me?”

  Arissa was beginning to think her attempt to lighten Emma’s mood had been a very bad idea. She had meant well, truly, but she could see that Emma was not to be satisfied with a tantalizing bit of un-truth. She struggled to contain her friend’s excitement.

  “Nay, Emma, he did not,” she said firmly. “And I do not want you making a spectacle out of yourself. If you are too eager, you shall chase him away. You must be aloof and calm.”

  Emma looked extremely disappointed. “Aloof and calm?”

  Arissa nodded confidently. “It is the only way.”

  “Aloof and calm,” Emma turned her blue gaze out toward the field of competitors. From the look on her face, she appeared to be suffering from a sour stomach. With great reluctance, she sighed heavily. “Aloof and calm.”

  Arissa nodded again, relieved that Emma was not going to rush Tad and make a fool of herself, and returned her attention to the event at hand.

  Two marshals, indicated by the armbands they wore, were making sure that all of the competitors listed were on hand. Daniel and Carlton were comp
eting, as was virtually every other able-bodied knight from the various visiting houses. Since the competition was open to everyone, even a few peasants had decided to try their hand, looking sadly out of place amongst the glorious knights.

  But hardly a soul cared. Peasant or noble, they were on equal turf when it came to the archery contest and Arissa’s excitement was growing. As she and her group vied for a better view of the field, her mother and father came strolling upon them, dressed to the teeth in their finest. Lady Maxine and Lady Livia followed on their heels.

  “Arissa, my dear,” her mother said sweetly. She was a warm and loving woman, if not a bit dense. “Maxine has the ribbon you will be awarding.”

  Maxine held out the exquisite piece of work, a blue ribbon embroidered with gold in honor of the Lambourn colors. Arissa took the prize with great care.

  “Come along,” her father took her arm. “We have a choice viewing area reserved for us.”

  Choice indeed. The roped-off area with two chairs was almost directly in line with the straw targets, affording the entire group a birds-eye view of the event. Lambourn soldiers kept the rabble away as the earl and his wife gained their seats, watching with anticipation as the marshals positioned the first collection of contestants.

  Daniel, Carlton and Tad were in the first group. Lady Maxine waved demurely to her strong husband, who responded with a bold wink. Penelope merely gazed dreamily at Daniel, who carried her favor tucked obviously in the crease of his breastplate. Emma and Regine spent their time eyeing Tad and each other. Only Arissa was not focused on anyone in particular. She leaned toward her mother.

  “Did you know that Richmond is championing me in this event?” she asked.

  Lady Maude fanned herself daintily with a silken fan, painted with birds. “As he should, dear. ’Tis only right that Henry’s greatest knight champion the honoree.”

  “He shall win, too,” Arissa glanced over her shoulder at Penelope and stuck out her tongue. Penelope returned the gesture.