"The Lady Cecily Percy de Clare."
Gavan simply stared at him as the name sank deep. Each revelation seemed to be greater than the previous and, suddenly, his eyes widened to the point of popping from his skull. "Hotspur's sister!"
Richmond nodded weakly, pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending ache. "And if I refuse, Hotspur will be insulted, not to mention the fact that our king will probably string me up by my thumbs," his hand came down, slapping against his massive thigh. "This is an added element that is not only unwanted, it is beyond belief. I risk offending both factions by my refusal."
"And if you offend our king, he will not be inclined to grant your petition for Arissa," Gavan supplied softly, his shock numbing him to any further emotion. "God's Teeth, Richmond, you certainly know how to get yourself into trouble."
Richmond smiled; a thin, ironic gesture. "'Twould seem so. Our king believes he’s doing me a favor by wedding me to Northumberland's daughter, a powerful position by any account, and I will not fault him his generosity. In addition, he’s also making a political match by pledging his most loyal knight to fortify an alliance that has never been particularly robust. He’s strengthening the bonds, and I cannot fault him for that, either."
Gavan did not say anything for a moment as the gravity of the circumstance settled. As the fire in the hearth died and the orange sun cast its final light over the landscape, he turned to Richmond.
"What do you plan to do?"
Richmond, the cut above his eye swollen and his inflamed nose aching, gave a laborious sigh. "Above all else, I will marry Arissa. This entire mess pales in comparison to my love for her."
"Then it must be a great, great love," Gavan murmured. The familiar impish smile made a weak comeback as he gazed at his friend. "I am not sure if I should stand by your side or run for my life."
Richmond cracked a faint smile. "If I were you, I would plead complete ignorance of the entire situation. But for you, that will not be a difficult stretch."
Gavan laughed softly, his demeanor returning. "I shall disregard that remark, my lord. You cannot afford to insult those who would support your cause."
Richmond's smile faded. "You are a favorite of our king, Gavan. That could change should the situation grow ugly," he paused a pensive moment, scratching his head in a nervous gesture as he struggled to compose riotous thoughts. After a brief lull, blue eyes focused upon those of deep, earnest brown. "Now that you are completely aware of my situation, my friend, I would hear your advice on the matter. And do not think to spare me."
Gavan gazed at Richmond for a long moment, his mirth fading as well. "Will you actually listen to my reasoning or ignore me as you always do?"
"I shall listen."
Gavan could read the desperation in Richmond's expression and he pondered the predicament as evenly as he was able. After a moment, he spoke with gentle urgency.
"When you reach London, I would suggest that you present your petition for Arissa before any other business can be conducted. Bargain if you must in order to gain Henry's cooperation; your service in return for her hand, for example. Anything to gain an edge. You have got to show the king that you are well aware of your worth; with Hotspur bordering on rebellion, Henry needs you as much as you need him. Do not underplay your value to the man. Use it."
It was a passionate, entirely insightful statement. Richmond had calmed somewhat, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. "How astute, Gavan. And how political."
Gavan met his gaze steadily. "I know that Henry relies on you tremendously. He will not deny you if you play the game, Richmond. You have always been good at games."
"Arissa is not a game."
"Aye, she’s. She’s a part of the most powerful game in the world. It's called Politics."
"And you are suggesting that I blackmail Henry with the threat of withdrawing my service if he does not grant my demand?"
"Exactly."
"But I am sworn to him. I have pledged my loyalty. I cannot simply retract my vow as one would break a simple promise."
Gavan crossed his thick arms, his rich brown eyes glittering. "Think for a moment, Richmond. What would happen if you threatened to leave his service? If he threw you in the vault, he would be depriving himself of your service at his own hand and that, my friend, would weaken his stand against the Welsh tremendously. If, in fact, Hotspur's offense at Henry's lack of faith forces him to side with Glendower, the king needs you desperately and you must be prepared to use that to your advantage."
Richmond sighed weakly, glancing to the smoldering embers of parchment. Gavan could sense his indecision, his pain, and he sought to accomplish the final reasoning that would propel Richmond from the realm of indecision.
"All of your life you have bowed to the man. You have been his greatest strength, his most obedient knight, willing to do anything for his cause. You obviously proved that the day you accepted Arissa's guardianship. Now it is time for Henry to pay you your due. Demand that he show you as much loyalty as you have shown him."
Richmond stared at the distant flames, his pensive expression unreadable. Gavan continued to watch him, riveted to his face, waiting for an indication alluding to his inner thoughts. After a moment, Richmond's eyes came away from the crackling fire, the news of the day consuming his thoughts. The Welsh, Hotspur, his betrothal, Gavan's advice.... God's Teeth, it was almost too much to bear.
He had no choice but to accept the world in which he had chosen to exist. But foremost above the swirling depths of his disturbing reflections, one idea reigned supreme and he found himself calming with the mere memory of her face. How he needed that calm.
"She’s furious with me, you know," he muttered.
"Who?"
"Arissa."
Gavan's brow furrowed. "What did you do this time?"
With a heavy sigh, Richmond spilled out the entire story and then some.
* * *
Arissa could hear the sounds of laughter and music wafting on the chill night air. Clouds were beginning to gather in the midnight blue sky, indicative of an approaching storm. The bailey below her window was filled with soldiers on their rounds, men on horseback and still others with large wolfhounds. As the party was in full swing in the cavernous expanse of Lambourn's gallery, the guest of honor was nowhere to be seen.
Lady Maude had pleaded for twenty minutes for Arissa to come downstairs and take her rightful place. Arissa had stubbornly refused, insisting that her stomach was terribly upset and she would not embarrass herself by becoming ill in front of her guests. Actually, it was not far from the truth; her stomach was twisting with more emotion than she ever thought possible and it was difficult to refrain from asking of Regine's fate.
Knowing her mother to be the consummate worrier, however, she suspected that if the woman had any knowledge of Regine's trouble, she would not have been pleading with Arissa to join her own party in lieu of shielding her baby from the coming wrath.
Since Maude was obviously ignorant to her youngest daughter's problems, Arissa was led to believe that her father was shouldering the shame entirely. But she refrained from asking about her father, too. She simply wanted to be left alone to wallow in her misery.
She was, however, able to convince her mother to leave with the assurance that she would rest for the time being in the hope of improving her illness. Promising her mother that she would try to join the celebration later, Maude was able to rejoin her guests with the anticipation of Arissa's future company when, in fact, Arissa had no intention of joining the party Richmond was in the process of ruining.
Her frustration and misery had not abated since he had left with Regine. If anything, it had deepened. She simply could not believe that he had been so cruel, so unfeeling and insensitive toward her needs. He had hurt her deeply and had not been the least bit concerned with his actions.
A soft knock on the door roused her from her thoughts. Rubbing her arms against the cold breeze, she turned toward the heavy oak panel.
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"Who comes?"
There was a slight pause. "Someone who wishes to congratulate you on your birthday."
She recognized the voice. Opening the door, she was greeted by Gavan Hage's smiling face. And what a face it was; square-jawed, masculine, and very handsome. Gavan's lively brown eyes were glittering as she opened the door.
"I thought something was missing in the gallery," he said, his huge fists resting on narrow hips. "When I realized it was you, I made haste to locate your whereabouts. What are you doing in here while the rest of Lambourn is drinking themselves into oblivion?"
She couldn't help but smile at him. Gavan was a calm, mannerly, gentle knight with the most enormous shoulders she had ever seen. A few inches shorter than Richmond, he was as strong as a bear.
"I am not feeling well," she offered lamely. "I thought to rest a while before attending my party."
His smile faded. "Richmond told me that you were angry with him. May I come in?"
Her smile faded as she stepped aside, ushering him inside her bower. Softly, she closed the door.
"Did he tell you why?" she asked quietly.
He nodded. "Regine is downstairs enjoying herself, as you should be."
Her brows drew together. "Regine is down.... I do not understand. I thought Richmond was going to tell my father.... surely Regine is being punished!"
A flicker of a smile crossed Gavan's lips. "Indeed, she was punished. I said she was enjoying herself, but I did not mention that she cannot sit down. She most likely will be unable to use a chair for a week."
Arissa was completely puzzled. "What are you talking about, Gavan?"
He chuckled softly. "Richmond spanked her. Welted her backside so severely that she can scarcely walk. Your father does not know, and Richmond's soldier remains in the vault. He will be stripped of his rank and weaponry and dismissed from the corp come the morrow. Richmond thought it would be best to handle it in this manner rather than create a chaotic issue out of the event. He will leave the explaining to Regine; she’s six months to comply or he will tell your father himself."
Arissa's eyes opened wide with surprise. "He.... he did not kill the soldier?"
Gavan shook his head. "A few men witnessed Regine's seduction. In fact, one man even heard Regine order him into compliance. Although the soldier should have known better, he was more or less coerced by an aggressive young girl who demanded he teach her the finer arts of sexuality," he snorted softly. "I would have hoped that Regine would have outgrown this peculiar phase she seemed to have entered into last year. To demand a common soldier into taking her virginity is bizarre at best."
Arissa let out a sigh of disbelief, of relief. "And Richmond will allow Regine to tell father what she’s done?"
"She’s six months."
Arissa turned away from Gavan, almost weak with alleviation. She had spent the past hour hating Richmond for ruining her party with his misplaced sense of determination when, in fact, he had dealt with the situation as befitting his wisdom and tact. Since he had never said exactly what he had intended to do, she had assumed the worst. She should have trusted him. Hesitantly, she turned her gaze to Gavan.
"Surely he’s angry with me," she said softly. "I said hateful words, Gavan. Is that why he sent you here? Because he’s too angry to come himself?"
Gavan shook his head. "Nay, Riss. He sent me because he thought you might punch him in the nose if he attempted to show his face. He wanted to make sure your anger had cooled."
She smiled, ashamed of her rage. "I was foolish, I suppose. I should have trusted him."
"Aye, you should have. Richmond has always had your best interests in mind," his gaze moved over her black head, looking at her through new eyes. Certainly she was an incredibly beautiful woman; he'd always thought so. He should have realized Richmond's attraction long ago.
Arissa nodded in agreement as Gavan pondered his thoughts. She noticed his distant expression but attributed it to his long ride from London. Her face brightened as she changed the subject. "We missed you during the Stick and Ball game today. It was most exciting."
Gavan chuckled softly. "Richmond is much better at the game than I. Moreover, I understand the earl's team was victorious without my help."
Arissa raised her dark eyebrows, her expression humorous. "Nonetheless, you were missed. Richmond did not have you to knock over the opposing players, making his victory much harder fought."
He laughed again. ""Tis all I am good for, truly. Knocking down men who oppose Richmond's tyranny."
Arissa put her hands on his arm. "You think too little of yourself, Gavan. I am sure you are good for other things, although I cannot think of any at the moment." Slipping her fingers into the crook of his elbow, she laughed happily at his insulted expression, deeply relieved that he had come to explain the turn of events. Suddenly, she felt very much like attending her party. "Shall we go downstairs? Bart promised me a special performance."
Gavan cocked an eyebrow. "God's Teeth, more paganistic teachings? Or, mayhap, he plans to reenact the entire battle of Marathon; portraying five thousand soldiers all by himself."
She wagged her finger at him as they moved for the door. "My brother is a great actor, Gavan. I forbid you to criticize his talent."
Gavan opened the door for her. "Your brother is a loon."
"'Tis the future earl you speak of."
"The future earl is a loon."
She laughed as he escorted her into the corridor. Gavan passed a glance at her beautiful face, knowing exactly why Richmond was in love with her. He loved his own wife for the very same reasons; beauty, life, spirit, purity of the soul. And knowing how he felt about his own wife, he also knew without a doubt that he would shrivel and die without her by his side.
As they took the stairs into the gallery, he could only imagine the torment Richmond was feeling at the direction his destiny had taken. With all of the political turmoil threatening the crown, a bevy of personal problems was an unwelcome factor.
If Arissa only knew the whole of it. He listened to her voice as she spoke, listening but not truly hearing her. He couldn't help but wonder if the impending future would somehow alter the spirit within her, quell the life. As she was destined for Whitby Abbey and Richmond found himself facing an unwanted betrothal and a potential civil war, it would seem that a permanent wedge was to be driven between them.
Desperately in love but prevented from being together. As the bright light from the gallery hit Gavan in the face, he couldn't ever remember a darker situation.
Eight
"Riss, where have you been?" Bartholomew snatched her away from Gavan as soon as she entered the hall. "I have been waiting for you!"
Arissa kept an eye out for Richmond as Bartholomew swept her deep into the room. "I am sorry, I was not feeling well."
He led her towards the head table where William and Maude were seated. Mossy was absent, as was usual; just as Richmond shied from a crowd, Mossy avoided social gatherings at all costs and Arissa was not surprised to discover him to be truant. Regine, however, was lingering by the edge of the table, in conversation with Emma. When she caught sight of her sister, her blue eyes widened.
"No matter," Bartholomew said, rushing his sister towards the long table. "Take your seat and I shall commence."
William and Maude noticed their daughter's approach, rising to their feet as Bartholomew practically tossed the birthday girl onto the dais. Arissa stumbled with her brother's rough treatment, passing him an intolerant glance as she moved for her customary chair. On her father's left hand, Richmond usually sat to her left. His seat was vacant.
Bartholomew disappeared as she took her chair. William greeted her fondly, demanding food and wine for the guest of honor. As a trencher was brought forward, the earl commanded the small minstrel orchestra situated in the corner of the hall to begin their program in tribute to his daughter's arrival.
Her appetite was customarily weak as she scanned the room for Richmond, listening to h
er father's voice as he conversed with Baron Buscot. Several retainers were hovering about the head table, men she did not recognize and had no interest in meeting. At the moment, her primary concern was locating Richmond.
She was greatly distracted from her search, however, as guests began to approach, relaying congratulations and delivering small tokens of their esteem. Lady Maude moved from her husband's right hand, taking a position beside her daughter as friends and allies paid their respects. Arissa's patience was brittle, but she tried her best to be cordial in the midst of a plethora of compliments.
The crowd about the dais was growing larger and Gavan and Carlton took position in front of the table, controlling the throng and making sure there was not an eager stampede. Maude delivered most of the thanks, an extremely gracious woman while her daughter offered feeble words of gratitude. The fact that Richmond was missing upset her greatly, reflective in her somber mood.
The crowd began to die down when a troop of dancers assumed their places near the orchestra. From Macedonia, their costumes were a mixture of bright colors, mostly greens, reds and whites, and embroidered with elaborate patterns. Arissa actually found her interest captured as they began their intricate dance, women with women and men with men.
Her father leaned toward her as the performers cavorted about in the center of the room. "Do you like them? The Earl of Kent commissioned the group to perform at the celebration we attended last month in honor of his birthday. I thought you might appreciate their skills."
She nodded, kissing her father on the cheek dutifully. "They are wonderful, Father," her gazed moved from the dancers to the gallery surrounding her. "Where's Richmond?"
William glanced about disinterestedly. "I do not know. I saw him earlier. But I see that Gavan found you."
She nodded, returning her attention to the dancers as a serving wench topped her wine. "I hope Emma does not throw herself at him like she did the last time he was here."
William snorted, drinking deeply of his chalice. "Gavan has more women throwing themselves at him than he can handle. I have never seen such a reluctant object of adoration."
Timeless Tales of Honor Page 50