Timeless Tales of Honor

by Suzan Tisdale

  "Something like that," Richmond said. "At any rate, what concerns me is not the father's anger but the mere fact that someone went to a bit of trouble to make it appear as if I am guilty of attempted murder."

  Gavan shook his head. "Certainly Henry has his share of enemies, but I too am curious as to why one of them would single out you in particular. More importantly, for what purpose?"

  Richmond sighed heavily and began to move toward the stairs along his original course. Gavan followed.

  "If they wanted to kill me, they would have had several opportunities today while I was armorless,” Richmond said. “In lieu of an assassination, they are either trying to make my life miserable or implicate me in a greater scheme. Mayhap someone is trying to cause friction between the House of de Rydal and the Earl of Berkshire."

  They reached the stairs, dimly lit by the polished iron chandelier above their heads. "If your last assumption is true, then why single you out? If someone were attempting to cause trouble between the earl and one of his vassals, they could just as easily make Bart the target, or the earl for that matter. Why you?"

  "I do not know. But I think for the next several days we should post extra guards on the battlements and make sure that anyone passing through the gates of Lambourn is rigorously checked out. I shall not have a paid assassin make his way into the earl's camp."

  "Agreed. I shall speak with Carlton and Daniel regarding the matter."

  Richmond left Gavan at the top of the stairs, his mind fogged with the possibilities as he made his way toward Arissa's room. Gradually, he became aware of the parcel he still clutched within his hand and his thoughts shifted from intrigue to the delights that had come with the day.

  Coming upon her door, he dismissed the soldiers. Knocking softly, he heard her soft footfalls approach.

  Her sweet smile greeted him. He returned the gesture, stepping into the room without a word. Arissa closed the door softly and bolted it, turning to him expectantly.

  "Well? Did you complete your errand?"

  His grin broadened, filling the room with everything he was feeling for her. "I am about to."

  Nine

  "What's this?" she asked, gazing at the parcel in his outstretched hand.

  "Open it."

  Timidly, she took it from him, examining the silken wrapping. "A gift, Richmond?"

  He watched her with glittering eyes. "That is the usual show of tribute for one's birthday."

  She smiled, fumbling with the ties. "I never expected.... that is, you did not have to do this."

  "Aye, I did," he eased himself into a hide-covered chair, his gaze never leaving her. "Why are you being so careful? I have seen you tear through gifts as if the wrapping was made of spider's web."

  She gave him an exasperated expression, although it was laced with humor. "I am trying to show some respect for your token. Do be quiet while I wrestle with these bindings."

  "So sorry," his elbow propped on the arm of the chair, he cupped his chin in his hand. Splayed fingers covered his smirking lips. "Do hurry. I shall die of old age before you finish."

  She cocked an eyebrow. "Surely that is of no surprise, considering your advanced years," the bindings fell away, revealing an exquisitely carved box. Arissa's mouth opened with delight. "Oh, Richmond, it is lovely. What a wonderful box!"

  He snorted. "Silly wench, the gift is inside. Open the box."

  She giggled, her gaze lingering on him as she carefully opened the lid.

  A beautifully crafted rosary lay upon a bed of satin. Made from polished beads of a beautiful pale wood, it glistened in the dim light as she drew it forth from the box. Richmond watched her face as she inspected the string of beads, delighting in the play of emotions across her lovely features.

  It was a simple rosary, perfect and solid. It would be the one item the nuns at Whitby would most likely allow her to retain when she surrendered all of her material possessions. He had planned it that way.

  "The wooded beads are from the Holy Land," he said softly. "Look at the base of the cross."

  She scrutinized the delicately carved cross, her eyes widening when she realized what she was witnessing. Astonished, she looked to him. "You had your name carved into it."

  He nodded faintly. "I am sure some would consider it sacrilege. But I wanted you to remember who gave it to you."

  She swallowed hard, fingering the exquisite piece. "As if I would forget," she turned it over in her hands, the resplendence of the gift inadvertently reminding her of her dictated destiny. When she began to blink rapidly, chasing off the threat of tears, Richmond reached out and pulled her onto his lap.

  "No tears, kitten," he whispered, knowing her thoughts. Naturally, she disobeyed his command and sobbed quietly onto his shoulder. Listening to her muted sniffles, he kissed her head tenderly. "There is no need for sorrow. All will be well."

  "But.... but I do not want to go," she wept softly. "You said yourself that I will have to keep my appointment, and I do not want to. I want to be with you."

  He held her tightly, as if to chase away all of her fear and sorrow with his imposing presence and strength. "And you shall be, I promise. Have I ever gone back on my word?"

  She shook her head unsteadily and he smiled, stroking her raven-colored hair. "Your father and I are going to come to terms with the change in the situation soon enough and I do not want you to worry," he grasped her gently by the chin, forcing her to look at him. "Do you comprehend me? Any more tears from you and I shall most likely join you. 'Twould be most humiliating for a knight of my standing to be seen sobbing like a woman."

  She tried to smile, wiping at her tears. "I-I shall try."

  His expression was soft as his gaze caressed her damp face. Gently, he helped her dry her eyes. "Now tell me; do you like the gift?"

  She nodded eagerly, gazing down at the strand of wooden beads clutched in her hand. "I love it. I shall always carry it with me."

  "Good," his gentle hand moved from stroking her cheek to touching her shoulder, trailing down her arm. A surge of excitement bolted through her slight body when his hand came to rest on the small fist that clutched the rosary. Squeezing her fingers tightly, he buried his face against her fragrant neck.

  From one emotion to the next, from one level of tenderness to the very heights of arousal, Arissa moaned softly as his lips came to bear on her tender flesh. The heat of passion electrified the very air between them as Richmond took great delight with her delectable skin.

  Arissa gripped his shoulders tightly as his mouth moved down her neck, roving tauntingly over the soft swell of her bosom. His wicked tongue, hot and lusty, lapped at the sweet valley between her breasts and she groaned breathlessly, one hand weaving itself into the thick silk of his hair while the other, still clutching the rosary, grasped his shoulder with a death-grip.

  The fire crackled softly in the hearth, sending sparks into the chimney as Richmond swept Arissa into his arms and deposited her upon her curtain-shrouded bed. Gently, he deposited kisses over her face, her eyelids, her nose, moving to her chin and neck as his fingers went to work on the stays of her surcoat.

  Arissa turned on her side, allowing him free access to the garment, wondering how far they were going to progress before he called a halt to their mounting passion. With a growl, Richmond flipped her onto her stomach, kissing the flesh of her back as the last of the fastens were disengaged. Arissa groaned softly with the pleasure of his scorching lips, realizing that she did not want him to cease the process of their new-found desire. She never wanted him to stop.

  Richmond removed the surcoat inch by exquisite inch, running his lips and tongue over every delectable portion of exhibited flesh. Arissa remained on her stomach as the surcoat came off her shoulders, her arms, baring her breasts against the fluffy bedrug. Although she should have been properly embarrassed when he pulled the surcoat over her hips and slid it the length of her buttocks, she was not fearful in the least.

  He moved down her legs, kissing the b
ack of her knees and drawing giggles amidst the moans. Tearing the surcoat free of her feet, he gently removed her slippers and ran his tongue over the tips of her dainty toes.

  Arissa wallowed in the boneless, lethargic state of desire as control left him. Aye, he'd promised not to ravage her by way of fancy speeches and displays of restraint, but gazing at her perfect body, nude and supple in the soft illumination, he was not entirely sure that he could keep his promise. Trouble was, he did not seem to care.

  He ran his hands up her legs, feeling the satin skin beneath his calloused palms. His breathing came in ragged gasps as his fingers delicately traced the rise of her bottom, perfect and heart-shaped. Up her back his hands moved, touching her, feeling her, loving her. God's Teeth, he'd waited so long for her.

  His hands reached her shoulders and he straddled her slight body, seductively massaging away the tension and concerns of the day. Arissa groaned softly under the care of his experienced touch, loving the erotic sensations his unhindered power provided. Although his strong hands against her spine was a remarkable experience, she distinctly liked it better than the way he had touched her once before.

  She rolled onto her back. Pale green eyes bore into eyes of brilliant blue, glistening with all of the uncontrolled passion and emotion she was feeling. Grabbing his hands, she pressed them to her breasts.

  "Like this, Richmond," she whispered, gazing deep into his smoldering eyes. "Touch me like this."

  The last shred of control left him and he growled, descending upon her luscious body. His mouth slanted over her lips savagely, licking and stroking her into the unbridled world of madness. Arissa’s cries were muted against his ferocious lips, gasping softly into the still night air as his mouth moved hungrily over her breasts, whimpering softly when he took possession of a taut nipple. Writhing beneath him, her legs instinctively parted to make way for his substantial weight and, without further thought or reservation, Richmond moved to touch the unfurling flower between her legs.

  Arissa cried out with surprise when his fingers delicately touched the thick outer lips, matted with a fine fluff of black hair. Richmond maintained his hold on her nipple, fondling her silky exterior flesh with the utmost gentleness to allow her to become accustomed to his touch. She gasped and panted as he continued to caress her, gradually relaxing as she became accustomed to his tender fingers. Only when her body loosened beneath his restrained touch did he attempt to part her lush, quivering petals.

  She was as slick as rain, unbelievably hot. He stroked the tender folds until his own finger was drenched with her moisture, his entire body literally shaking with the force of his need. God's Teeth, he was out of control and loving every minute of it.

  Richmond knew, doubtlessly, that he was about to break his promise to her. To hell with his wise reasoning and righteous motives; he would make her his in every sense of the word, and he would dare Henry to deny him.

  He slipped a wet finger into her sheath, so incredibly tight that he very nearly soiled his breeches with the pure pleasure of it. But he calmed himself by focusing on Arissa's gasps of surprise, whispering words of encouragement and comfort, crooning softly to her. Pants of shock quickly turned into groans of pleasure and he could feel her tight passage contracting about his slick finger, pulling at him.

  Rising to his knees, he ripped off his tunic so aggressively that he tore a sleeve. One boot hit the floor with a loud thud, the other went sailing into the wall. His breeches came off so quickly that he nearly ended up on his arse in his haste to remove them.

  On the bed, Arissa watched with panting, wide-eyed wonderment as Richmond stood before her, nude and proud and the most magnificent sight she had ever beheld. His broad shoulders sheltered an exquisitely muscled chest, covered with a delicious carpet of silky dark hair. His flat stomach and narrow waist caught her attention and she was awed by the flawless details of God's most unblemished creation; indeed, the perfection that was intended for every man.

  Richmond watched her as she studied his nude form, smiling faintly when her gaze came to rest on his enormous arousal. As she stared at the proof of his desire, he was deeply pleased to note that there was no fear in her expression. Only wonder. He stood a moment, allowing her to inspect him, before returning to the bed. As he pulled her close, she smiled and wrapped her arms about his thick neck.

  "You are going to couple with me, are you not?" she whispered.

  His gaze was filled with more desire and remorse than she could possibly fathom. "I am sorry, Riss. I gave you a pretty speech today, informing you that I would adhere to a slow pace. I did not want to frighten you with my attentions," a slow finger moved across her beautiful shoulder, his eyes incredibly tender. "I am not frightening you, am I?"

  She shook her head. "Not at all, my love. I want to know the experience of coupling. I want to feel your love."

  He kissed her chin tenderly. "God's Teeth, Riss, when I think of how long I have dreamt of this and considered myself depraved for harboring such thoughts.... I still cannot believe that we are about to complete a most intimate action."

  She held his gaze for a long moment. "This will hurt?"

  "A little, I am told."

  The corners of her mouth twitched. "I will not go to the convent a virgin."

  "You shall not be in the damn convent long enough for it to matter."

  Her smile faded as she gazed deep into his eyes. "Promise?"

  He kissed her slowly, gently. "That I do, kitten. That I do."

  One kiss led to another, led to several, deep and long. She gasped for breath as he tore his mouth away from her lips, his brazen tongue moving down the length of her torso. Arissa felt every sensation, every touch, like a bolt from Heaven.

  "Richmond," she panted softly. "Do.... do you remember when you said that you wanted to teach me to crave your touch?"

  "Aye," he mumbled into the flesh of her belly.

  She swallowed hard, gasping when he plunged his tongue into her navel. "I do not need to be taught such yearnings. I have craved your touch longer than I can remember."

  His head came up, a wolfish smirk on his face. "I am flattered."

  She met his grin until he returned his mouth to the tender target of her groin. Gasping with ecstasy, she attempted to retain her escaping thoughts.

  "I.... I do not want you to go slowly with me," she whispered. "I want to know everything, now. I want to sense everything at this very moment."

  He wedged his huge body between her legs, lifting her knees as his mouth moved along the soft flesh of her inner thigh. "That is about to happen, kitten. But I refuse to allow you to chatter through the entire event."

  "I am not chattering," she said with as much indignity as she could manage. "I.... I am simply trying to tell you how I feel."

  Suddenly, he was looming over her, his massive arms braced on either side of her slight body. Knees between her thighs, his piercing gaze like liquid fire.

  "I know how you feel, for I feel the same," he whispered. "There is scarcely more we can say to one another on the subject, though I shall never tire of hearing it. What I do now, I do to demonstrate my emotions for you. Never in my life will any single event mean as much to me as what we are about to do. This I swear."

  She gazed up at him, feeling the sincerity flow from his eyes like a raging river. A small hand reached up and touched his stubbled cheek, caressing his masculine features gently. Even as tears of sentiment glimmered in her eyes, a faint smile of encouragement creased her delicious lips.

  "Show me, then,” she whispered. “I would feel your love for myself."

  He met her smile, kissing the corners of her mouth tenderly. Holding himself aloft from her slender body, he rubbed his manhood against her private core, stroking the outer lips as he had done with his fingers. She was glistening with wet heat, spilling down onto the linens, and he bathed himself in her virginal juices as she watched his face without fear.

  He moved slowly, wrestling against the natural instinct to ra
m into her like a rutting stallion. He worked carefully, gaining headway bit by bit, feeling her tightness draw him inward. She was so slick that it would have been terribly easy to simply thrust into her and be done with her maidenhood in a flash of pain and power, but he unsteadily refrained. Better to allow her to become accustom to his intrusion before the sting of losing her innocence cast a measure of reality upon their union.

  In spite of the approaching truth of pain, Arissa was amazingly calm beneath him, gripping his massive biceps for support as he forged into virgin territory. Beneath her hands, she could feel his body quivering, straining to maintain control in the face of his most raging desire. She, too, was quivering with anticipation.

  As he laboriously made his way inside her, she smiled bravely, silent words of joy and encouragement conveyed upon the green depths. Although she felt as if his manhood was stretching her beyond the limits of physical endurance, she refused to reveal the apprehension she was coming to encounter. Apprehension she was attempting to ignore, without much success.

  She was unaware that she did not have to say a word about her anxieties. With every tiny thrust, her body tightened with uncertainty and Richmond knew that her courage and determination would only last so long. He was buried within her nearly half-way, a remarkable achievement in itself considering her petite size, when he felt the resistance of her maidenhood. When he paused and withdrew completely, her entire body went limp with relief.

  But he would not allow her the chance to renew her apprehension. Falling atop her, he grasped her breast firmly and descended upon a peaked nipple. Suckling furiously, Arissa forgot her fears and responded to him with the low moans and pants that he had come to expect. Her cheeks began to flush with desire as her fingers wound themselves in his thick brown hair, and he knew the time was upon him to act. With Arissa properly distracted, it was time to take her.

  Pulling her knees up, he continued to nurse against her breast hungrily. Arissa was hardly aware of his hands on her knees, his manhood pressing against her tender threshold once again. The next she realized, he was thrusting into her harder than she ever thought possible, driving himself the full long length of his throbbing manhood.