Chapter 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 her 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.”
The music picked up pace and the performers commenced with a lively routine.
The group of guests clapped in rhythm as a line of male dancers began to dance in a well-orchestrated circle, dropping to their knees and bounding to their feet as the music demanded.
Arissa continued to observe with growing interest when a body suddenly moved beside her.
“I think they’re boring,” Regine sniffed, perching herself on the seat Richmond usually occupied. “I want to dance.”
Arissa peered closely at her younger sister, noting that the girl was barely resting her bottom on the chair. “We will be dancing all night. And I do not think the performers are boring in the least.”
Regine did not reply, lifting her shoulders in a spoiled gesture. A serving wench passed by with a full trencher and Regine imperiously demanded that it be placed in front of her. The plate was barely settled before the plump young girl was digging into the food with both hands.
The group of performers executed several dances.
Regine finished her trencher and greedily consumed two goblets of fine wine as Arissa wait for Richmond to make an appearance.
Her attention was diverted from the entertainment at one point when she saw Emma and Gavan to be in conversation, but Emma seemed to be controlling her urges rather well and Gavan was actually smiling.
Satisfied the situation did not require her intervention, she returned her focus to the last few moments of the Macedonian act and wondered if Richmond was ever going to show himself. She did so want to apologize for her hateful words.
The performance abruptly came to an end and the gay audience applauded loudly. Just as the dancers were leaving the floor, a shadow fell across Arissa from behind. Huge hands reached down for Regine.
“Remove yourself, lady,” Richmond’s voice was low. “You are in my chair.”
Regine leapt to her feet as if his touch had burned her, stumbling in her haste to dislodge her blistered bottom from the embroidered seat.
Her eyes were big on Richmond as she gave the man a wide berth, scampering away in fear.
Richmond did not so much as pass her a glance as he assumed his seat beside Arissa.
Arissa’s gaze was anxious as she looked upon him. He kept his attention averted, however, shoving aside Regine’s trencher and summoning his own. Only when he was served with both food and drink did he turn his focus to Arissa.
Arissa lost her breath with the intense look in his eye.
They blazed upon her and instinctively, her palms began to sweat.
But it was more than his gaze; the overall picture of Richmond le Bec was enough to strike her speechless.
The magnificent presentation lain before her had been well worth the wait.
He was armorless. She’d never seen him armorless on a social situation.
Clad in a dark blue tunic, simple but masculine, black breeches and his customary black boots, he looked absolutely stunning.
The swelling on the bridge of his nose had almost disappeared and the cut above his eye was practically invisible. He was glorious.
“Greetings, my lady.”
She swallowed hard, followed by a feeble smile. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. “Good eve, my lord.”
He returned her smile, his eyes glittering. “Your party seems to be a success already. What did you think of the Macedonian dancers?”
“They were wonderful,” her voice was strangely tight. She couldn’t care less about the Macedonian dancers at the moment. “Where have you been? I thought…. I thought mayhap you had decided not to attend.”
His brow furrowed momentarily. “Why would you think that? I do apologize for my tardiness, however. After a day of rolling in the dirt I thought it best to bathe before attending your celebration, lest I chase off your guests with my foul odor.”
Her smile turned genuine. “Where is your armor?”
“I cannot dance in armor.”
“You plan to dance? Richmond, I do not believe I have ever seen you dance.”
“Because I have never danced with you.”
A charming blush crept into her cheeks and she looked away, taking a dainty sip from her chalice. The evening was looking brighter already.
“Thank you for sending Gavan to escort me,” she said quietly. “I am sorry he did not bring Kathryn.”
“Kathryn cannot travel in her pregnant condition and Gavan is nervous enough without the added risk of a long ride,” he glanced across the room. “Emma, however, does not share your view.”
Arissa looked over her shoulder. Emma was following Gavan around as he moved about the room. He was seeing to the security of the gallery as Carlton and Daniel enjoyed themselves and did not need the added distraction of Emma’s company.
Arissa shook her head at her aggressive friend. “I shall go and speak with her.”
He put his hand on her arm as she moved to stand. “Gavan is a grown man and can handle himself against the onslaught.” When Arissa relaxed into her seat, he smiled at her. “I demand that you ignore the rabble and enjoy yourself. This is your party, is it not?”
She returned his grin. “It is.” After a lengthy pause, her smile faded. “I am sorry I became angry with you, Richmond. I should not have said what I did.”
He patted her hand, a quick squeeze before releasing it. “There is nothing to forgive, kitten. If anyone should apologize, it should be I for upsetting you so on your birthday.”
“You had every right to be angry,” she lowered her voice so her father would not hear. “I approve of the manner in which you handled the situation. You are exceedingly wise.”
He cocked a dark eyebrow, finishing the insult. “As befitting my age.”
She smiled. “Your words, my love, not mine.”
Arissa watched Richmond through dreamy eyes as he devoured his meal.
He cast her an occasional wink, his favorite gesture, trying desperately not to appear too upswept with her delightful beauty.
But it was terribly difficult when her sweet face was a mere foot from his own, her green eyes watching his every move.