Prologue
London, England
The old stable was dark and dank, smelling of horses and urine. The icy fingers of winter extended from the walls as an armored figure cautiously entered the structure.
Sir Richmond le Bec’s breath hung in the damp air, a dense fog that vaporized as he passed through it. Hesitantly, he moved deeper into the stable, his blue eyes observing all within the confines of shadowed stalls.
“Richmond!”
Richmond turned in the direction of his whispered name. Without delay, he moved deep into the bowels of the structure.
At the far end of the stable in a corner stall, two figures huddled for warmth against the cold December night. There was no light to illuminate the musty straw, only the dim moon glow casting weak beams of light. Richmond could make out the forms of a man and a woman.
“My lord?” he asked softly, puzzled. “I have come as ordered.”
A face became clear in the obscure light, features the young knight was well acquainted with.
Young Henry, Duke of Hereford and King Richard’s cousin, gazed at his mighty comrade, already powerful and established at the tender age of twenty-two.
Le Bec was a warrior to be trusted without hesitation.
Tears suddenly spilled down the duke’s cheeks, quickly dashed away by his female companion. Richmond could see that the man’s arms were occupied; he held a bundle.
“Richmond, I must ask of you a most vital task,” Henry whispered, gazing tenderly at the parcel he cradled. “You must take this parcel and guard it with your life.”
Richmond gazed at the bundle curiously, wondering what was so important to have Edward III’s grandson reduced to tears.
His perplexed attention shifted from the heap of blankets to the two cloaked figures once again; it took Richmond a moment longer to realize that Henry’s companion was not his wife.
The mystery deepened. Yet, he did not hesitate in his obedient response. “Without question, sire.”
Henry sniffed loudly and his companion shakily wiped at her own face, revealing a delicate beauty of porcelain features. Shocked, Richmond recognized his superior officer’s wife, the Lady Ellyn.
“My lady,” he said with concern. “Are you…?”
Henry did not allow him to finish. He thrust the bundle at Richmond. “You must take this precious package and see that it is delivered to the Earl of Berkshire, William de Lohr. He’s expecting it.”
Richmond grasped the bundle with mailed hands, only to discover that it was a very soft, very limp mass of swaddling. When the woolen blankets let out a weak cry, he nearly dropped the parcel out of pure astonishment; he was holding a child.
“God’s Teeth,” he muttered, clutching the babe against his broad chest. His bafflement increasing by the moment, his eyes sought the duke. “Henry…. what is this?”
Henry put his arm around the woman, who began to weep softly against his shoulder.
“My daughter,” Henry whispered, gazing at the bundle in the knight’s massive arms. He tore his eyes away, meeting his friend’s stunned expression. “De Lohr is expecting her. You will take her to Lambourn this night and remain as her Great Protector.”
Richmond shook his head, his bewilderment expanding. “Remain as her protector? But…?”
Henry let out a harsh sigh, putting both arms around the Lady Ellyn as her sobbing deepened.
“God’s Blood, le Bec, do you need for me to spell it out?
She’s my bastard, the result of a liaison between me and the Lady Ellyn.
Her husband has threatened to kill the child, for he knows it not to be his. You must take her.”
Richmond was shocked as well as baffled. “But…. Captain de Worth would never do such a thing. He’s King Richard’s household captain, sworn to uphold the codes of chivalry.”
“He’s also an enraged husband whose wife has managed to bear another man’s child,” Henry snapped savagely, clutching Lady Ellyn fiercely.
“Charles de Worth doesn’t love her, Richmond.
Only I love her. We have created this child with our love and you have been delegated the duty of protecting my daughter until she becomes of age. Will you do this for me?”
Richmond blinked; reeling with the shock, he was literally speechless. But his astonishment gave way to a surge of defiance. “I… Henry, I am a knight, not a nursemaid. Why would you….?”
“Because you are the only man I can trust for this most important task,” Henry insisted. “Do not question my orders, Richmond. You will do as I say.”
Richmond’s jaw went slack, his eyes wide as Henry’s command sank deep. “But you would demand that I remain at her side, always, as her…. her guardian? I am not trained for this variety of work. I am a warrior, Henry.”
“You are a knight of the realm,” Henry’s tears were drying, his pale eyes sharp. “And I am a prince of the realm. Damnation, Richmond, you shall do as I say without reserve. There is nothing more important in this life than the child you clutch. Nothing.”
Richmond swallowed hard, his gaze once again moving to the plump bundle. His stubbornness was dissolved by the very real fact that he could not deny a direct order. He was, in fact, a warrior, and sworn to obey without question.
“I… I am a knight,” he repeated weakly, knowing the basis for his argument was slipping through his fingers. “Fighting is my vocation, not child-rearing. How can you ask this of me?”
“You are my friend,” Henry’s voice was equally feeble. After an eternal pause, he sighed with great emotion. “Richmond, as my friend, will you grant my request? I need you, more than I have ever needed you. Will you help me?”
Richmond’s head came up from the warm bundle of swaddling, his blue eyes locking with those of his friend, a man he had come to know well during his years of training at Kenilworth. Aye, he was a knight, a warrior to the very core. But he was also a loyal friend, a man whose dedications ran deep.
Gazing into Henry’s desperate face, he nodded faintly. “Completely, sire.”
Henry’s moist gaze came to rest on the parcel cradled in the knight’s steel-clad arms. Richmond’s eyes returned to the child as well, the Lilliputian face partially obscured by the heavy blankets. With thick, timid fingers, he carefully drew back the folds.
A newborn squirmed restlessly, trying to capture tiny hands within her toothless mouth.
Richmond stared at the babe, a perfect little cherub with a thatch of dark hair.
The longer he gazed at the child, the more a peculiar warmth settled over him; as with all things tiny and new and perfect, there was a certain enchantment to be experienced.
“Her name is Arissa,” came a soft voice.
Richmond glanced up from the infant, finding himself looking at Lady Ellyn’s anguish-filled green eyes. Wiping the remainder of her tears from her face, she gently tore herself free from Henry’s embrace and moved towards the massive knight.
“The Lady Arissa,” she repeated softly. “She’s five days old, having been born on the first of December. She’s a good girl, healthy and beautiful.”
Richmond stared at the woman, his gaze shifting between her lovely features and that of the babe’s mewling face. “It…. it will take me several hours to reach Lambourn, my lady. I…. that is to say, obviously, I cannot feed her. What shall..?”
Lady Ellyn moved away from him, swiftly retrieving a small satchel tucked into the straw. “I have packed clothing and two milk bladders. You may feed her cow’s milk. Even goat’s milk will do, and she should be ready to eat in two or three hours. She will tell you when she’s hungry.”
His dark eyebrows rose slightly. “She will tell me?”
Lady Ellyn forced a tremulous smile, running a tender finger across a tiny satin cheek. “When she screams like a banshee. ’Twill make your hair stand on end.”
Richmond looked to the babe uncertainly. “Is that so? In that case, my lady, I shall prepare myself. I think.”
Henry stumbled to his feet. Richmond glanced at the duke, wondering how a young nobleman of eighteen years managed to become involved with a married woman of twenty-five. A most perplexing circumstance, one that Richmond found himself swept up in.
Richmond’s gaze lingered on the babe a moment longer before looking to his royal friend. “Henry, certainly I do not mean to be difficult, but you are aware that I am sworn to King Richard. If I am to disappear, ’twill reflect poorly on my reputation. The king will….”
Henry shook his head firmly, pulling Lady Ellyn into his embrace once more. “I petitioned for your services this morning, Richmond. As far as my cousin is concerned, you are returning with me to Kenilworth.”
“What of Lady Mary?” Richmond asked softly. “Surely your wife will inform Richard that I am not in your personal service when I fail to appear at Kenilworth.”
Henry kept his gaze on the babe. “You needn’t worry about her.
As you know, my wife and I have lived apart for several months due to her fragile health.
Your primary concern in this life is the child you hold; whether you serve by my side or at Lambourn makes little difference,” his pale eyes sought out Richmond’s bright blue eyes imploringly.
“You must do this for me, my friend. You are the only man I trust to accomplish this task.”
Richmond’s gaze lingered on the duke before returning to the dozing child.
Observing the sweet face, the chubby cheeks, the peculiar warm feeling enveloped him again.
He’d never held a baby in his entire life until this moment and was struck with the wonderment and apprehension it provoked.
He also realized that he was holding his destiny.
The tiny little life in his arms somehow managed to ease the sting of rebellion in him, convincing him with her tiny coos that she was worth his devotion. Unknowingly, she was melting his staunch facade.
“At your service, my lady,” he whispered to the babe, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “’Twould seem that you and I are to be constant companions.”
Henry sighed raggedly, his relief evident as Richmond accepted his mission. Arissa’s parents gazed at her a moment longer before turning away, seized by the finality of the moment.
“Take her, Richmond,” Henry’s voice was raspy, tight. “Now, before I break.”
Richmond did not hesitate. Without another word, he swept the child into the icy winter night, ignoring the renewed sobs of the heartbroken mother. He would do as ordered, just as Henry and his companion were doing what was necessary to preserve the life of their child.
The child in his arms cooed, distracting him from his thoughts. Casting her a glance, he was somewhat surprised to see that her eyes were open. In fact, she was gazing up at him and he found himself peering closely at the cross-eyed babe.
A beautiful infant, he thought, although he was no expert on children.
But staring into the flawless little face, he realized he was at least willing to learn the finer elements of raising a child.
Aye, he would guard her because above all else, he was a knight and he would complete his sworn duty or die in the attempt.
The babe cooed again and his gaze sought her once more, thinking she sounded much like a small animal. A kitten. When his eyes met with the wee little face, perfect and porcelain and curious, he would swear until the day he died that she was smiling at him.