Mossy cocked a sparse eyebrow at the implication. "A panicked soldier with eyes as wide as saucers came bursting into my sanctuary. I thought he had come bearing a message of import until I discovered he only carried news of you."
"Your concern is overwhelming."
Mossy grunted and opened his bag. Immediately, a small rabbit burst forth and skittered across the floor, disappearing under the wardrobe. Penelope and Emma barely had time to shriek, but Mossy hardly registered a reaction.
"Damn rabbits. They like to nest in my bag," he rummaged through the faded brown satchel. Drawing forth an envelope, he sprinkled a bit of white powder into a pewter cup. "Put some wine in it," he instructed Arissa, who moved quickly to do his bidding. Returning with the full cup, Mossy thrust it at Richmond. "Drink this."
Richmond eyed the contents. "What did you put in it?"
"Poppy. It will ease the ache."
Richmond shook his head slowly. "I cannot. It will put me to sleep for days."
Mossy raised his eyebrows. "So ye'd rather suffer?"
"Do you question my fortitude?"
Mossy snorted and set the cup aside. "'Tis not yer fortitude I would question, but yer sanity." From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Penelope, Emma and Daniel, still grouped by the open door. He frowned severely. "I told ye to get out. Are ye daft?"
Emma quickly slipped from the room as Penelope grasped Daniel's arm in an attempt to encourage him to obey Mossy's command. But the young knight was reluctant to comply.
"Do you require me any longer, Richmond?"
Richmond shook his head, watching Mossy rummage through his bag once more. "Nay, Daniel, I believe I am in good hands."
Daniel passed a glance at the ancient man, as old as the sky and then some. A faint gleam came to his eye as he observed the crusty old crone. "Mossy, I have always been curious. How did you acquire your name?"
Mossy drew forth a few items. "Ye ask me that now? Daniel Ellsrod, ye've been at Lambourn for two years come January."
Daniel grinned, ignoring Penelope's silent urging. "I have never had an interest until now."
"Ye selected a peculiar moment to ask."
"Answer me and I shall go. Why are you called Mossy?"
Richmond looked to the young knight. "Because he’s so old that moss grows on his limbs. And he cannot stand in one spot for too long else his feet with take root."
Daniel's eyes widened and he sputtered a loud guffaw. "Is that so?"
Mossy examined a length of silk thread. "It is. Do ye need to see the proof?"
Daniel shook his head and, still snorting, followed Penelope into the corridor. He had no sooner moved into the hall when a soldier suddenly appeared in his place, his face flushed with excitement.
"Mossy, Lord William demands you come. Bartholomew has been injured."
Mossy looked up from his thread sharply. "Injured? What happened?"
The soldier swallowed, his flush deepening as he glanced at Arissa. "He... he’s been hit... that is to say, he’s in a good deal of pain."
"Ye did not answer my question. How badly is he injured?"
The soldiers swallowed hard, a ripple of fright creasing his features when Richmond focused his hard gaze on him. Weighing the options, he found he was willing to risk great embarrassment in lieu of Richmond le Bec's anger.
"He took a stick to the groin," he mumbled. "Lord William demands you tend him, as he’s heir to the earldom. He fears for the continuation of the family line."
Mossy stared at the soldier for a moment as if to disbelieve what he had been told. Sighing, he set the thread to a nearby table and extracted several other items from his bag, including a delicate embroidery needle and a wad of linen.
"Riss, ye'll have to sew Richmond's cut," he collected his bag, forgetting about the errant rabbit. "I have got to tend yer foolish brother to guarantee him a son."
Arissa watched him scuffle from the room, moving to close the door behind him. The awareness of suddenly being alone with Richmond was almost more than she could bear and a faint mottle crept into her cheeks as she returned to the table by his bedside.
With a quivering hand, she poured water from a pewter pitcher into a small bowl Mossy had left. "I.... I do hope Bart is all right."
A massive hand suddenly shot out, snatching her by the wrist. Arissa barely had time to set the pitcher to the table when she was suddenly pulled onto the bed beside him. With her next breath, she found herself gazing into eyes of bright blue.
"Forget about Bart. You should only be concerned with me."
A timid smile creased her lips. "I am only concerned with you, as I have always been. Am I not preparing to tend your wound?"
A dark eyebrow raised. His face was looming closer. "I was not speaking of wounds, Riss."
His mouth was on her before she could draw another breath. Arissa forgot everything at that moment; his injury, her brother, the world in general. When his warm, tender lips touched hers, all of the love and emotion she had ever felt for him melded into one glorious burst and she was vaguely aware of her hands in his hair, holding him tightly.
Richmond clutched her tightly to his chest, feeling her warmth and softness against him. When they had embraced earlier he had been wearing armor, and the sensations of her supple body provoked against his thinly-clad flesh were consuming. The little girl he had known and protected had blossomed into a woman of unbelievable magnificence and he was still having difficulty coming to grips with the turn their relationship was taking.
He had ceased to think of Arissa as his charge long ago. Aye, there was still a fierce protective instinct towards her, greater than any instinct he possessed, but the emotions he had developed for her overshadowed all else. She was a woman, and he was a man. And he loved her.
He drew her down on the bed next to him, looming over her with his great body and half-burying her into the mattress. Arissa gripped him tightly, whimpering softly as his lips devoured her. His hands moved from her hair, down her neck, trailing the length of her arms. Then, as one hand wrapped itself about her narrow waist, the other moved to her wonderful breasts.
She startled when his warm fingers moved over the crest of her nipples, gasping when he toyed with a tender bud. He laughed low in his throat at her reaction, but he did not halt his onslaught. Instead, he snaked his hand behind her back and deftly undid several stays.
Arissa was barely cognizant when he slid her new surcoat off her shoulders, kissing every exposed inch of white flesh. She was a quivering shell of awakening desire, experiencing every brush of his lips as if it were a gift from God. His body had shifted and she was nearly smothered by his great form, feeling his heat as if nothing else on earth existed.
His tender touch trailed to the rounded swell of her breasts as the surcoat slowly moved downward, barely covering the delightfully puckered buds. Richmond's breathing came in heavy gasps as he gently peeled the material away from rosy crests, letting out a sigh of awe as his gaze beheld succulent nipples. He couldn't wait to taste them.
Arissa felt Richmond's tongue drag over the tender morsels and she cried out softly, a bolt of awesome power firing through her petite body. She'd barely recovered from the shock when his hot, wet mouth suddenly descended on her hungrily, like a starving child. From surprise to ecstasy in a split second, her moans of pleasure filled the room.
It had been far too long since Richmond had tasted female flesh, and the fact that he was in possession of Arissa's sweet body nearly devoured his control. His heavy manhood was painfully engorged, but he ignored it. As much as he might desire the action, he would not take her virginity just as they were coming to discover one another. His own discomfort was insignificant in parallel to the importance of Arissa's emotions.
He would not destroy a lifetime of tender feelings by attacking her like a madman. Arissa was as pure as rain, untouched by any man until this day, and he considered it a right and a privilege to be able to introduce her to the world of passion. But w
ith every touch, every kiss, she was responding to him with unimagined abandonment and his hands were literally quaking with self-employed restraint. Slowly, he told himself firmly. Slowly.
Her breasts gave him more joy than he ever thought possible. To lose himself within the silken flesh, scented of gardenias, was beyond heaven. It was far more than he had ever dreamed possible and the more he tasted, the more he craved. More and more, he was dangerously close to spiraling into erotic oblivion.
He took a puckered nipple between his teeth and drew it out slowly, listening to Arissa pant. As if they were living, thinking entities, his hands moved down her slim waist to her legs, drawing up her surcoat with the intention of seeking the hidden flesh. Richmond was concentrating so deliberately on her breasts that he hadn't realized his hands were stroking her shapely thighs, moving to grasp her behind the knees in order to part the way for his throbbing manhood.
Abruptly, he realized his demanding deed and his head came up. Swallowing hard at his aggressive actions, his gaze found her exposed legs, looking so entirely delicious that he nearly lost every remaining ounce of restraint. The desire to latch his teeth onto a tender thigh was overpowering, but he fought it.
Arissa was watching him through half-closed lids, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement and wonder. She raked her slender white fingers through his hair.
"What is the matter? Why did you stop?"
He swallowed hard, tearing his gaze away from her beautiful legs. "I.... we must stop, Riss. I cannot go any further."
She blinked, clearing her focus and her mind. "Why not?"
He swallowed hard. "Because if we continue as we are, the inevitable will occur."
She propped herself up on her elbows, oblivious to her exposed breasts. "Inevitable? Do you mean coupling?"
He tried hard not to stare at her beautiful breasts. One look and his thin resolve would melt away. "Aye, kitten, that's exactly what I mean. This is not the place or the time."
Her brow furrowed and she sat up, pulling up the neckline on her askew bodice in an attempt to cover herself. "But why? Richmond, you said you loved me. Have you changed your mind?"
He exhaled sharply, helping her straighten her surcoat before pulling her into a crushing embrace. "Of course not, and I am furious that you would suggest such a thing. Please understand that I am trying to be considerate of you, kitten. You are very new to the realm of passion and I do not want to frighten you. We must become accustomed to one another before we move beyond."
She looked at him as if she hadn't understood a word he said. "Become accustomed to one another? What a silly notion. I have known you since I was a child."
He shook his head faintly. "Listen to me, Riss, listen to what I am saying. Clearly we know each other well. But we must truly come to understand one another in every sense of the word. We have risen to a new plane of emotion, you and I. 'Twas something I never thought to experience."
Her gaze warmed as she began to realize his point. "Nor I. I can still hardly believe that your feelings mirror my own."
He smiled gently, his injured nose aching with the action. "Somewhat of a shock to us both, I would guess. And I do not want to ruin the discovery process by bedding you like a rutting bull," his tender hands touched her face, her hair. "I want to introduce you into a world where you will learn to crave my touch, to yearn for my kiss. You will learn to need these gestures as badly as I need them from you. When we couple, I want you to understand what it is we are expressing."
She studied his face, his sincerity. A faint smile crept onto her lips. "How fortunate for me that you are so willing to be patient."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Believe me, patience is not an easy attribute where you are concerned. My instincts tell me to ravage you thoroughly, but my common sense tells me to control my raging passions. 'Twill be my pleasure to teach you the art of loving."
"But I already love you."
"And I love you. But you must be taught the most fulfilling ways to demonstrate that love. Were I to take your maidenhood from you this night, it would frighten you because you would truly have no grasp as to what is actually happening. It would be too much, too soon, too quickly. As with all other skills, lovemaking must be taught and practiced. Do you comprehend what I am telling you?"
She shrugged vaguely, her smile widening. "I think I have an idea. Already, I know I like what it is we do together."
He kissed the end of her pert nose. "And you are a brilliant, eager pupil. I simply do not want you to be angry with me for moving slowly with you. I do not want to overwhelm you."
She wrapped her arms about his neck. "Your years and years of experience have taught you that patience is a valuable asset with a woman, has it not?"
He cocked an eyebrow. "Saucy wench. You remind me of my true age at every turn."
She laughed softly. "I cannot help it. You are nearly as old as Mossy."
"You are a devil. I should take you over my knee, as I have done before. You have not been spanked nearly enough."
"I was just a child then. You would spank a grown woman?"
"Absolutely."
She raised her eyebrows as if fearful of his threat. He broke into a smile and nuzzled her neck, dropping soft kisses on the tender skin. Arissa closed her eyes against his gentle attention. But thoughts of bliss and a future filled with Richmond were abruptly overshadowed by darker, more frightening visions.
Her eyes opened as sharp recollections of the cloister infiltrated her mind, as they did so often these days. But now, a sharp distaste for the life of the cloth was becoming her worst nightmare. More than mere reluctance, it was a palpable terror.
"When will you speak to my father, Richmond?" she whispered against his thick brown hair.
He paused at her pleading tone, a thousand thoughts whirling through the mists of his mind. He paused a moment in silent contemplation before meeting her gaze.
"When the time is right, kitten. You must realize that this will come as a great shock to him," he fingered a raven-colored lock. "But, most importantly, you must not become discouraged or panicked. Even if you are forced to meet your appointment with Whitby after the first of the year, which I suspect will be the case, you must not become disheartened. Know that I will come for you as soon as I can."
Her eyes misted; he could see the tears coming. "I do not want to be away from you."
He sighed regretfully. "There is nothing we can do, kitten. Your future has been planned for eighteen years and you certainly cannot expect to dissolve a matter of this importance in a few days. It will take time."
She blinked rapidly, chasing away the tears. "But you will not forget me?"
He kissed her forehead, laughing softly at the irony of the statement. "Foolishness. If I were never to see you again from this day forward, you would remain as strong and vital in my heart as you are at this moment. Never forget that, Riss. I shall always love you just as I do now until I die.”
She leaned against him, feeling his strength, his warmth, relishing in it as she always had. "I am frightened, Richmond. What if my father denies our request?"
Her head tucked underneath his chin, Richmond's smile faded as he thought on that very real possibility. Even though a denial would be of no consequence in the larger scheme of things, it would nonetheless be an obstacle to overcome. Even though Henry loved him, he simply was not of Arissa's station and that stumbling block alone would prove to be mighty.
"I can be quite convincing," he murmured after a moment. "My years and years of experience have given me much practice in the art of persuasion. If that doesn't work, I shall simply torture him into submission with my superior strength."
She giggled. "Father weighs more than you do. Surely he will be difficult to coerce should it come to a battle of strength."
Richmond thought of Henry, strong and proud, with a temper to match. Not only would it come down to a battle of strength and wills, but mortal combat was not out of the realm of possibility. Richmond could
not begin to fathom how Henry was going to react to his astonishing demand.
Your primary concern in this life is the child you hold. You will guard her with your life.
He had completed his orders too well. Not only had he protected her with his life, she had literally become his life in ways he would have never dreamed possible. She had been his destiny in every sense of the word.
"Let us keep the word battle out of this conversation," he said softly.
* * *
Two shrouded figures tethered their mounts deep in the woods. The horses were frothing and sweaty, indicative of an abusive ride. But the two men who had driven the animals to the brink of collapse paid no mind to the miserable horses as they crept through the undergrowth, through the trees that opened onto the well-traveled road between Lambourn and Goring.
The thoroughfare was deserted, as they hoped. But not for long. A small party was approaching and they made haste back to the shielding protection of the trees.
"Do you have it?" the very same soldier who had been stalking Arissa at Lambourn threw back his hood, fumbling with something underneath his cloak.
The second soldier, his seasoned companion, nodded and dug about in his mail. "Aye, I got it. It was not difficult to steal with all of de Lohr's and le Bec's men watching the Stick and Ball game."
The first man drew forth a small Welsh crossbow, well-made and compact. As he loaded the dual-arrow catapult, the second soldier handed him a large strip of crimson cloth.
The first soldier smiled with satisfaction as he held up the banner. "Excellent. Henry's own tunic, Leopards of England." Quickly, he set to securing the strip of material to one of the arrows.
The second soldier peered over his shoulder. "David, I still do not understand why you had me steal the length of tunic. What are you planning?"
David, a Welsh soldier for nearly twenty years, smiled as he secured the banner. "A brilliant scheme to be rid of le Bec,” he said. “You saw how he was always near the girl. God's Blood, they were inseparable. If we want to get to Henry's bastard, then we have to be rid of his knight."
Timeless Tales of Honor Page 47