Chapter One #3
Arissa swallowed again. “I…. nay, I am not feeling at all well. Maxine, would you please greet Richmond in my stead? I must…. rest.”
Maxine did not hesitate; Arissa’s delicate health was well-known and not to be trifled with. “Of course, my lady. We cannot have the guest of honor ill at her own party. Go and rest; I shall tend to Sir Richmond.”
Arissa did not linger. She moved past Penelope and Emma, making a break for the flight of stairs that led to the second floor of the castle. By the time she hit the second step, she was running.
Anything to put distance between her confusion and Richmond.
*
Seated atop a magnificent coal-hued charger, Sir Richmond le Bec drank in the sight of Lambourn castle. A well-designed Norman bastion, he felt as if he were coming home again. God only knew, he’d spent a good portion of his adult life within the old walls.
As the edifice loomed closer, he couldn’t help but feel a stab of sorrow.
’Twould most likely be his last visit for a very long time and he was grieved by the thought.
For eighteen years Lambourn had been a part of his existence, always on his thoughts, always in his prayers.
For eighteen years it had been a physical part of him as much as an arm or a leg or a lung.
But that time was drawing to a close. His mission, entrusted to him eighteen years ago, was coming to a conclusion as the New Year rapidly approached.
He honestly did not know how he was going to continue with his existence once Lambourn had faded into the recesses of his mind; all of this, the keep, its occupants, its day-to-day continuance, was a portion of his soul.
The bridge was down, welcoming him warmly and sharpening his sense of sorrow.
Several soldiers called out to him as he entered the massive bailey, but he did not respond.
He was used to the adoration, the respect.
Forcing his gloomy thoughts aside, he dismounted his snappish charger and was immediately met by the Lady Maxine de Long.
“My lord Richmond,” she dipped in a practiced curtsy. “We are blessed once again with your presence.”
He passed a rapid gaze over Lady Maude de Lohr’s woman. “’Tis good to be back. Where’s William?”
“Lord de Lohr is in the gallery involved in the nooning meal,” Maxine replied. “He commands you to join him immediately.”
Richmond nodded absently, moving to his steed and unfastening his saddlebags before the groom led the animal away. “I have been gone for quite some time. I trust all has been well.”
“For the most part, my lord,” Maxine nodded. “Lord William and Lady Maude have enjoyed good health, as have Lady Regine and Master Bartholomew.”
He focused on her for the first time. “What of Lady Arissa?”
“She’s suffered two rather severe bouts with the cough,” Maxine replied, offering a helpless shrug. “She’s quite fond of the outdoors, as you know. She managed to catch the chill more than once and it settled in her chest.”
Richmond felt himself softening, hoping his change in demeanor was not obvious.
“’Tis of no surprise. She insists on sticking to the woods to collect her silly flowers.
I cannot count the times I have nearly frozen solid acting as her escort on such occasions.
One of these days, she’s going to catch her death. ”
“That is what the physic seems to think,” Maxine replied. “He’s told Lady Maude that Arissa’s lungs are terribly weakened. She may not be fortunate enough to recover the next time.”
Richmond stared at her a moment. Then, mayhap a bit more subdued, he focused on the familiar castle once again. “William is expecting me,” he said quietly.
Maxine watched him stroll across the compound.
Being female, it was only natural that she respond to Richmond le Bec’s physical qualities; the man was positively striking.
To gaze upon his male beauty was to experience a giddy fluttering of the heart; being married did not mean she was immune.
She, too, appreciated a fine-looking man.
*
William de Lohr, a massive man of rotund girth, was well into his trencher by the time Richmond arrived. He greeted his friend warmly and pulled out a chair for him to sit. While the servants rushed about in their eagerness to serve the great knight, William put a meaty hand on his shoulder.
“Six months you have been gone,” he said in his typical overbearing manner. “Six damnable months. I thought you had forgotten us.”
Richmond cocked a dark eyebrow, bringing a hunk of bread to his lips. “Hardly. I have been with Henry, as you well know. There has been quite a bit happening in London.”
William snorted, giving Richmond a shake so that the bread missed his mouth and ended up scraping his cheek. “I know, I know. The damn Welsh are increasing their rebellious pressure. But Henry has you and young Henry Percy to defend his holdings. Surely the threat is not terribly severe.”
Richmond brushed at the crumbs on his cheek and tried again.
“Hotspur is in Wales as we speak. God’s Teeth, the man has more responsibilities than I do, if such a thing is possible.
He, nor I, needs the added burden of the growing Welsh rebellion.
I was rather hoping to retire from this madness at my age. ”
William removed his hand from Richmond’s shoulder and returned to his trencher over-filled with mutton. “Retire from your destiny? Pure foolishness, I say. Owen Glendower’s days are limited with Hotspur and Richmond le Bec leading the fight. England shall undoubtedly triumph.”
Richmond did not say anything. A man of few words and limited expression, he concentrated on his meal.
In truth, he was simply happy to be back at Lambourn and took the opportunity to fill his empty belly with food and soothe his weary body with fine ale.
William, being a glutton of unbelievable proportions, reputably served the very best food and drink in all of Southern England.
Richmond and the earl were not alone at the table.
Richmond silently acknowledged Carlton, a man he had known an exceedingly long time, and his daughter, the Lady Penelope.
To Penelope’s left sat Sir Daniel Ellsrod, a powerful young knight with an aggressive attitude.
Richmond himself had knighted the man a year ago.
The rest of the table’s inhabitants were the usual group; Lady Maxine had joined them, as had Lady Livia Trevor and her daughter Emma.
Lady Livia’s husband, Sir Edward Trevor, had been killed in the skirmish for the throne against Richard II.
Lord William had pledged his men to Henry’s service and Edward had, unfortunately, lost his life.
The missing members that usually rounded out the meals were conspicuously absent.
Lady Maude herself was truant, as were Lady Regine, William and Maude’s twelve-year-old daughter, and her older brother Bartholomew.
And, of course, Arissa. Richmond did not miss the younger sister and the older brother as much as he did the middle sibling.
In fact, it was more than a need to see her.
It was the desire to make sure she was healthy and whole, as had been his sworn duty for eighteen years.
When Lady Maxine mentioned Arissa’s illnesses, he found himself longing for a glimpse of the young woman simply to see for himself that her health had returned.
Henry would not react well to his daughter suffering from less-than-perfect vigor. Neither would Richmond.
As Arissa’s Great Protector, he was as concerned for her vitality as if the world depended on it.
’Twas his duty to see that she was reared physically unscathed and mentally nourished, a task he was sworn to excel at.
It was a duty he accepted more deeply than any other responsibility he had been delegated simply because Arissa meant more to him than anything else on this earth.
He thought his feelings to be a sick obsession, these emotions he harbored for the Lady Arissa. God’s Teeth, he was over twice her age. Nearing forty years, he was far too old and far too beneath her station for his feelings to pose any true meaning in the greater scheme of his life.
At his age, he should have been married long ago.
He should be enjoying his sons, offspring that would carry on his name and legacy.
He should be enjoying a lovely wife warming his bed when, in fact, his bed had been cold for some time now.
He hadn’t even taken a whore in three years simply because he couldn’t focus on any female other than his rapidly-maturing charge.
He had watched Arissa grow from a sweet, fat baby into a woman of unbelievable beauty.
He simply couldn’t remember when he had first fallen in love with her; sometime after her sixteenth birthday, he thought, when she had crossed the delicate barrier into maidenhood and he found himself realizing that she was no longer a child.
“I understand Lady Arissa has been ill,” he finally said between bites. He couldn’t help himself from asking.
William snorted into his goblet. “The silly little wench. Damn near caught her death of chill the last time, traipsing about in the woods after a fresh rain in search of fall blossoms. Daniel found her three hours later, huddled under a tree and swathed in damp clothing. We sincerely thought we might lose her, with the fever that followed.”
“Fever?” Richmond turned his blue eyes to the earl. “’Twas severe?”
“Severe enough. She lay burning for two days before it broke.”
Richmond sighed deeply, returning to his food with a waning appetite. “I must be certain to speak with her,” he said softly, for William’s ears only. “Her father will not be pleased that she has jeopardized her health in such a manner.”
William glanced about the table casually to make sure they were not being overheard. No one, save Maude, knew of Arissa’s true parentage. He wanted to keep it that way.
“I have already scolded her, Richmond,” he said quietly. “But speak with her if it will ease your mind.”
Richmond set down his spoon; his appetite had vanished and he felt the need to down the calming contents of his chalice. The other occupants of the table were engaged in their own conversations and he felt comfortable speaking briefly on a secretive subject.
“He’s not pleased that you have decided to throw her a large party for her birthday,” he said in a hushed voice, settling back in his chair. Henry was never mentioned by name in their conversations; merely as “he”. “Too many opportunities for his enemies to approach her.”
“No one knows of her heritage,” William replied in a quiet, even tone. “How is it possible his enemies would discover her to be his bastard?”
“You would be surprised what his enemies know. The walls have ears at Windsor.”
“Eyes and an appetite as well, I would wager,” William set his chalice to the table. “I have no fear for her safety now that you are here.”
Richmond was silent for a moment. “Where is she?”
“Truthfully, I do not know,” his gaze sought out Lady Maxine and Lady Livia at the far end of the table. “Where is Arissa?”
“She was not feeling well, my lord,” Maxine answered. “She’s resting in her room.”
“Not feeling well?” William’s brow furrowed. “What is the matter with her?”
“Fatigue, my lord,” Maxine said. “She’s quite excited for the party tomorrow.”
Richmond had had enough wondering and worrying over Arissa’s health. She’d never been a particularly robust individual and to hear that her vigor was lacking once again only reinforced his desire to see for himself.
But he controlled it well. He finished the wine in his goblet and completely drained a third cup before bothering to excuse himself from the table. As casually as he could manage, he strolled from the gallery and into the foyer, focusing on the massive flight of stone steps laid wide before him.
His destination was the second floor.