Chapter Twelve #3
The Willow was the largest hostel in town, well-lit and moderately crowded. Richmond dismounted his steed, gently setting Arissa to her feet in the sticky mud. Taking her hand, he led her into the warm, hazy structure.
The smell of smoke and vomit hit Arissa like a sharp slap as she entered the establishment, causing her to catch her breath and wrinkle her nose.
Richmond slanted her a gaze, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
He was relatively immune to the repulsive scents of humankind, but Arissa’s delicate balance was immediately offended.
“Richmond, if our room smells like this….”
He put his arm around her protectively, his eyes searching for the innkeeper. “It will not, I promise. If it does, I shall demand that they scrub it clean until it meets with your approval.”
The proprietor of the tavern was already moving toward them, a small man with little hair. He knew a well-paying customer when he saw one.
“Welcome, my lord,” the man bowed at the waist. “A room for you and your daughter this night?”
Arissa felt as if she had been struck, a physical blow that took her breath away. Richmond did not react outwardly, but his eyes took on a most peculiar gleam. “My wife and I have already secured two rooms in your stench-cloaked establishment. The name is le Bec.”
The innkeeper’s eyes widened and he stumbled back a step as if to escape the huge man’s fury. “I…. I apologize, my lord, I meant no offense,” he stammered quickly. “Your wife is so tiny, such a perfect little female, I assumed…. pray forgive, my lord.”
Richmond’s gaze was deadly, but he allowed the infraction to pass. It would only upset Arissa if he were to punish the man for his ignorance. “Where are our rooms?”
“Up the stairs, sire, the last two doors to the right.”
Richmond, clutching Arissa against him, moved to mount the steps. “My officer will be here shortly, a massive man bearing a trunk. You will direct him to me.”
The landlord nodded eagerly. “Of course, sire. I shall send your meal to your rooms immediately.”
Richmond did not reply as he took the stairs. As they entered the dim corridor of the second floor, the acrid smells and noise seemed to fade rapidly. By the time they reached their designated rooms, the clutter from the common room was a muffled roar.
Arissa moved to open one of the doors, peering inside. Richmond opened the second door, scrutinizing the room. “Too small,” he commented, moving to the door Arissa had opened. “Ah, this will do nicely. Let Gavan struggle in the small bed. This one is more my size.”
Arissa giggled as he escorted her into the room, glancing about the small chamber with indifference. “It smells in here, too.”
He pulled the oiled cloth off her shoulders. “Would you rather sleep in the rain?”
She smiled, a devilish gesture. “Of course not. But you promised me that if our room smelled, you would order the innkeeper to scrub it until it met with my approval. Well?”
He tossed her protective cloak onto the chair. “I lied. If you do not like it here, you can sleep out in the rain with my horse. As for me, I am going to enjoy a warm bed and a hot meal.”
She tried not to grin. “Richmond le Bec, do you mean to say that you deliberately deceived me? I shall…. I shall go sleep with Gavan. His room smelled better.”
“How do you know? You did not smell it.”
“Anything is better than this.”
Richmond removed his helm, running his fingers through his damp hair. “Go then, you ungrateful wench. I shall not listen to you complain all night.”
Her grin broke through and she went to work on her cloak, removing the thick garment with the rabbit lining.
Underneath, she wore a surcoat of burgundy wool, a magnificent shade against her striking coloring.
Richmond cast her an appreciative glance as he removed his gauntlets.
“Well? I thought you were going to go and sleep with Gavan.”
She turned to him, her glorious breasts emphasized to the extreme in the clinging wool. A gold belt graced her slender hips, accentuating her bosom further. With the high neckline and long sleeves, the picture was consuming.
She cocked an eyebrow, noting his lustful gaze. “Are you sure that is where you want me to sleep?”
“Hell, no. Come here.”
She giggled, gliding across the floor and into his arms. He kissed her deeply, fully, smiling as he listened to her whimpers and gasps of delight. But as her fingers raked through his dark hair, he pulled his lips away.
“God’s Teeth, woman, let me remove this armor before I explode,” he grunted, unfastening pieces of plate and allowing them to fall to the floor.
Arissa stood back, watching him undress with a great deal of anticipation. Down to a damp tunic, thick hose and boots, he smiled seductively at her.
“There,” he said softly. “Now, as I said. Come here.”
She cocked her head. “Aren’t you going to take all of your clothes off?”
He laughed, deep and hearty. “God’s Teeth, Riss, control your lust. I do believe I have created a wanton woman.”
Her cheeks mottled with a faint flush and she smiled shyly. “Not at all. ’Tis just…. well, I thought…..”
“I know what you thought, my shameless little tart, as my thoughts are exactly the same. But we must wait for two reasons; one, Gavan will be here shortly with your trunk and, two, our meal will arrive at any moment.”
She averted her gaze, clasping her hands behind her back and turning away from him. “Of course. I have forgotten already.”
He continued to grin, watching her pace across the floor toward the hearth. “I promise you, kitten, the wait shall be worth it.”
She cast him a sheepish gaze, still smiling. He chuckled softly at her embarrassment as a sharp knock rattled the door. Gavan was in the doorway, Arissa’s trunk slung across his massive shoulders. He moved into the chamber, dumping the wet case onto the floor.
“God’s Blood, Richmond, what in the world did we pack that would make that thing so heavy?”
“Nothing but the necessities, as I recall,” Richmond said, shoving the trunk against the wall. Suddenly, he paused, passing the trunk a curious gaze. After a moment, he kicked it into the wall again. This time, they all heard the muffled grunt.
Gavan unsheathed his broadsword before Arissa could draw another breath, moving to take a protective stance in front of her.
As Richmond unlatched the case, she strained to peer around Gavan’s massive body; she did not see anything at first, but Richmond’s stern gaze told her that he was not pleased in the least. He continued to stare into the trunk, his expression severe.
“How, may I ask, did you get in there?” he finally asked, struggling to maintain his calm.
Emma’s blond head appeared, her pale blue eyes wide at Richmond. “I…. I slipped in when you put Arissa’s trunk out in the corridor before transporting it to the wagon.”
Richmond pursed his lips, scratching his head with a great deal of irritation. “Where are her clothes?”
Emma, flushing red about the ears, shifted in the trunk as if to look underneath her. “A few items are still here, but I took the majority out and put them in the servant’s alcove.”
Richmond’s stern gaze lingered on her a moment before turning to Gavan. “I thought you secured this trunk yourself before putting it into the hall.”
“I did,” Gavan lifted a disapproving eyebrow at Emma. “She must have slipped in the very moment we left it unattended.”
“And then the soldiers who were ordered to store the trunk on the wagon re-secured the latches, thinking we had failed to do so,” he shook his head with wonder, moving away from Emma. “Thank God she’s not a Welsh assassin. We should have never left the trunk unattended.”
“Welsh assassin?” Emma repeated, confused. “I…. I simply want to go with Riss.”
Richmond returned his grim attention to her. “You have put me in a very awkward position, Lady Emma. Did you actually believe I would allow you to accompany Arissa to the abbey?”
Emma nodded unsteadily, moving to unseat herself from the trunk. Her joints were stiff and her head hurt from all of the movement, but she was not nearly as concerned for her own discomfort as she was apprehensive of the look on Richmond’s face. “What are you going to do with me?”
He put his hands on his hips. “Send you back to Lambourn. What did you expect I would do with you?”
Emma’s cheeks flushed bright red and she lowered her gaze, moving away from the massive knight.
But somewhere within the fear and respect for the man came a seed of defiance.
She did not want to return to Lambourn; Arissa was her very best friend and she was terrified to be without her.
Penelope had Daniel, her mother was busy with Lady Maude, while she herself had no one.
When Arissa left, she would be all alone and she hated the very idea.
Which was why she had stolen away in Arissa’s trunk. After Richmond had chased her and Regine off and slammed the door, it had not been difficult to slip into Arissa’s baggage unnoticed. A quickly-formulated plan that had been just as quickly executed. She was going, too.
“I am…. I am going with her, no matter what you say,” she stood her ground against Richmond, albeit weakly. “I am sixteen years old and if I want to pledge my life to Whitby, I can do so without my mother’s approval.”
Richmond cocked an eyebrow at her insolent tone. “Very well. Take your vows if it pleases you. But do not expect me to escort you; you must find your own way. Until then, you will return to Lambourn.”
Emma’s flush grew brilliant. Her breathing was coming in heavy gasps, indicative of her emotion and rising anger.
She licked her lips, swallowed hard, struggling with the words she was attempting to bring forth.
“If you take me back to Lambourn, I shall…. I shall tell the earl about you and Arissa, I swear it.”
Arissa gasped, standing next to Gavan. “You…. who told you, Emma? I demand to know!”