They were not words spoken from a reluctant father-figure. They were words spoken from the heart. Arissa knew that as doubtlessly as she knew of her love for him. Before she could stop herself, she pressed her face against his massive hand.
"I am a woman grown, my lord."
He stared at her, the twinkle in his eyes fading. The finger that caressed her cheek lingered on her chin, trailing down her neck. He knew full well he should not be touching her in such a manner. God's Teeth, he knew better than anyone that he had no right at all to touch her. He would have killed any man who had handled her in such a fashion, seemingly innocent though it might be. A gentle touch, a chivalrous gesture....
But it was not innocent at all. There was fire raging through his veins, encroaching onto Arissa's tender flesh. The more he stroked, the more she leaned against him as if her strength was failing. He had been staring into her eyes not a moment before; suddenly, he was watching his badly misbehaving hand as it threatened her.
The pale green eyes suddenly closed and her head lolled back as if she had lost all control, revealing the most glorious neck he had ever had the fortune to gaze upon. Richmond lost the struggle against his labored breathing; harsh gasps came to his dry lips and his gloved hand opened, closing upon her neck as an animal devours its prey. He heard her gasp, a faint sound so erotic he nearly whimpered in response. His grip tightened.
Then she was moving toward him. His gloved hand appeared to have a mind of its own, pulling her against his hard chest. Richmond realized that he was about to permit a depraved madman to ravage Arissa, but he was powerless to prevent it. The pale green eyes opened, focused on him, and he saw a faint curve appear on the luscious red lips. A flicker of a smile. Dear God... she was encouraging him!
Her smile broadened. He couldn't manage the gesture. All of his attention, his energy, was focused on the woman before him as if she were all that existed in his tumultuous world. His entire body was quivering like the string of a bow; taut, coiled, wracked with anticipation of what was about to occur. God’s teeth, what was he thinking?
"Do ye think to strangle her in front of witnesses, my lord?" Mossy was suddenly beside them, his aged eyes twinkling. "Do not tell me that she asked ye to champion her and ye took offense."
His hand dropped like a stone. Well-defined finger marks lined Arissa's white neck. He swallowed hard, his eyes boring into her wide green ones as an unmistakable flush mottled her cheeks.
"I.... I have already agreed to champion my lady as a gift for her birthday," he managed to choke.
Mossy's gaze moved between the two of them. Richmond maintained a steady gaze, but Arissa was staring at the ground. When she wandered away, wringing her hands and watching the grass beneath her slippered feet, Mossy cocked an eyebrow at Richmond.
"Then if ye are going to kiss her, my lord, do it in the trees where no one can see ye. 'Twere William to see ye, word might get back to her father."
Richmond's eyes suddenly blazed. Mossy's gaze held even and he nodded faintly. "Aye, I know who she is. I have always known," he tapped his head in a thoughtful gesture. "Ye forget, Richmond, that I delivered Maude's dead child, the dead babe young Henry knew of. And I was the one who took Arissa from ye when ye delivered her to Lambourn that snowy December night. Although ye never made mention of her heritage, I was not so deaf that I did not hear the truth spoken between William and Maude on more than one occasion. But the populace of Lambourn never knew the difference; 'twas easy to convince them that Arissa was the child Maude birthed, switching the babes as we did."
Richmond had always suspected Mossy had been privy to the most secretive of information, but the old man had never mentioned a word. In faith, he didn’t particularly care but he sought to make the situation clear.
"She doesn't know."
"Nay, she doesn't,” Mossy agreed. “And she will never hear it from my lips. 'Tis none of my affair to involve myself in the matter."
His rigid stance relaxed somewhat and his gaze returned to Arissa, standing patiently several feet away as she watched the activity on the field. He suddenly felt an ancient hand come to rest on his gauntlet.
"She does not want to join the cloister, ye know," Mossy said quietly. "If ye were to convince her father.... he'd let ye have her, I suspect."
Outwardly, Richmond's only reaction was to return his gaze to the old man. But inwardly, he was wracked with the possibilities of the statement.
"Out of the question, Mossy. Arissa's destiny is in the hands of God. Come the New Year, she will retire to Whitby and I shall return to London."
"Never to see her again? Do ye know what that will do to her, man?"
His brow furrowed faintly. "She’s no choice in the matter. Her future was decided long ago."
Mossy's gaze rested on him a moment. "But that was before she loved you." He turned and walked away.
Richmond's mouth went dry. His facade was still straight and proud as he watched the aged crony hobble toward the keep, but his heart was being twisted and enlightened more violently than he ever thought possible.
"Richmond?"
He whirled toward Arissa, his control slipping at the sound of her angelic voice. His gaze came to rest on her beautiful face and she smiled timidly, gesturing in the direction of the keep.
"I am hungry. Do you think we could find something to eat before the competition begins?"
His mouth worked for a moment as if he were struggling to find the correct reply. Loudly, he cleared his throat, moving towards her purely out of habit. But as he drew closer, Mossy's words slammed into him again with such force that he grunted.
But that was before she loved you.
He coughed politely, covering his blunder. Yet the look in Arissa's eyes when he offered her his arm suddenly took on new light in the face of the old man's muttered statement. The seductive smile she had displayed as he gripped her, the open encouragement in her gaze suddenly made sense until he was nearly wild with the overwhelming likelihood. Could it be....?
Richmond led her back to the keep in stunned silence, where Penelope, Emma and Daniel found them. Daniel boasted of his winnings in the wrestling matches as Penelope and Emma surrounded Arissa, commencing the usual mindless chatter. Arissa listened, but she did not comprehend their words. Her mind was else occupied.
She had no idea what to think. Confusion reigned supreme as she pretended to respond to the conversation going on about her. Richmond, several paces ahead, was all but ignoring her as he and Daniel conversed. Truthfully, her mind hadn't been working correctly since the moment he had touched her cheek; it was as if the world had faded until all that mattered was his tender touch against her skin. The sensation had been so overwhelming that she had completely given in to the heat flooding her limbs, causing her eyes to close and her knees to weaken.
She hadn't even been aware of her lolling head until he had grabbed her by the neck. A powerful bolt of excitement had slammed into her body, a sob escaping her lips from the sheer force of the blow. Next she realized, he had pulled her against him.
And then her eyes had opened. His eyes, blazing hotter than the sun, had made her smile. Gazing into the blue flame, she knew. He wanted to kiss her as badly as she wanted him to.
Damn Mossy for interrupting them. Had they been allowed to progress, she might have been able to taste his lips as she had always wanted to. But now, he was all but ignoring her and her heart was breaking. Mayhap.... mayhap he had come to realize the foolishness of her brazen actions. 'Twas she who had melted against his innocent touch, and it was she who had unskillfully seduced him with her naive grin and eager manner. She had all but thrown herself at the man.
Richmond procured the entire group a spit of roasting gamecocks. Arissa accepted the food from him, picked at it, and tossed it to the ground. Her stomach was churning with humiliation and she was no longer hungry. She could feel Richmond watching her, a familiar heat she was well acquainted with, but she simply could not bring herself to look at him.
She wished she could get away from him, anything to ease the tension in the air. She knew, however, he would shadow her wherever she went. The only way he would not follow her was if she was escorted by another capable knight, a man he trusted. Or....
"My lady, a pleasure to come across you again," Tad de Rydal was suddenly in front of her, his arrogant face flushed with joy. Arissa gazed up at him, suddenly seeing an escape to Richmond's presence. Although she had no liking for the pompous knight, he would be a safe enough diversion from the situation at hand. With enthusiasm she did not feel, she smiled brightly.
"And you, Sir Tad," she said. "Have you been enjoying yourself?"
"Indeed," he replied. "But I would enjoy it a far sight more with a beautiful maiden on my arm."
Emma, realizing the fabled Tad de Rydal was in their midst, wedged herself next to Arissa, hoping her friend would introduce them and thereby open the door for Emma to escort Tad about the grounds. Arissa knew how badly Emma wanted to meet the de Rydal heir. But instead, Arissa did the unexpected.
She extended her slender hand. "I would be honored to accompany you, Sir Tad. Would you be so gracious as to allow me?"
Tad's blue eyes gleamed, Emma's face fell, and Richmond was, frankly, shocked. Before anyone could utter a word of protest, Arissa tucked her hand into the crook of Tad's armored elbow and they strolled off across the compound companionably. In tears, Emma turned away.
"I shall never forgive her,” she hissed. “She knows I was desperate to meet him!"
Penelope patted her friend on the shoulder. "He’s her guest, Emma. We cannot monopolize all of her time. I am sure she will introduce you to him later."
Instead of being placated, Emma stamped her foot and sniffled loudly. "She’s preparing to join the damn church. What can she possibly want with a man? I wanted Tad de Rydal!"
As Penelope attempted to comfort her, Richmond watched the distant couple like a hawk. Daniel, beside him, scratched his head.
"De Rydal's a rake," he murmured. "You had better follow, 'else Lady Arissa's charms are not the only delicacy he will attempt to sample."
Richmond did not reply. After a moment, he meandered in their direction.
* * *
After an hour with Tad, Arissa was ready to scream. Not only was he a conceited arse, but he was boorish and dull. All he seemed capable of commenting on was himself, his training, and the fortune he would inherit. Arissa sat and listened, yawning. She wished she had stayed with Richmond.
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 sailing 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.
Timeless Tales of Honor Page 42