Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Her mother had stayed with her throughout the entire journey home, consoling her, singing to her, treating her as if she were a babe once again.
Arissa was content to lay in the woman’s lap day after day, barely able to think or feel or move, and Sister Repentia was content to cradle her as she had so wanted to all of these years.
Her child needed her, more than ever, and she would not disappoint.
Never once had Owen’s name been mentioned as they travelled through the snowy landscape, nor did she make mention of Arissa’s blood ties to the Welsh leader.
Arissa need never know the truth as far as her mother was concerned.
The less she knew of the harsh realities of life, the better for her well-being.
She did not need any more grief than had already been delivered.
Hoping the trip homeward would prove to be calming and uneventful in the face of Arissa’s wrenching extraction from Wales, their wishes were granted.
However, an odd twist occurred that neither lady was aware of at the time; when Richmond had ordered Arissa sent home, he had been referring to Whitby.
Naturally, she assumed he had meant Lambourn and when they arrived, they were met by Bartholomew’s inquisitive face.
On Bartholomew’s heels came William, full of vigor and pleasantries and without knowledge of his most violent words towards Arissa and Richmond.
As Mossy had explained some time later, William had been drunk and exhausted the day those fateful words had been uttered and had been sincerely distressed to awaken from a two day’s sleep to discover that Arissa had been whisked from Lambourn.
Knowing Richmond had final judgment on Arissa’s safety, William had assumed the knight had deemed a compromised fortress an inappropriate place for Henry’s daughter and had seen fit to promptly remove her.
Which was why he had been overjoyed with her unexpected return.
Exhausted and hysterical, she had relayed stories of Richmond’s bravery and betrayal, and William had been deeply shocked to learn that Richmond had allied himself with Owen Glendower.
Arissa had informed her father that Richmond had betrayed his king to save her from the Welsh prince’s clutches; William wondered if it was true.
The New Year came and went, and the Welsh resistance had fired in earnest thanks to the brilliance of Richmond le Bec and the mighty sword of Hotspur.
Gavan and William left for the border to aid Henry’s cause, despondent that they were to be fighting against a man who had been a sworn ally and friend for the better part of their lives.
It was a painful predicament Arissa did not like to dwell on. Her father and Gavan were waging war against Richmond and to maintain her sanity in the face of such upheaval was a constant struggle.
The battle threatened to deepen as she and her friends left the serenity of the lake; for the sake of her brittle composure, however, she forced herself from her gloomy thoughts and passed a disinterested glance at Regine and Emma as they quibbled over something undeniably serious.
Penelope, having had enough of the arguing between the two younger women, moved beside Arissa as they made their way toward the fortress.
“Mayhap we can lose Emma and Regine and retire to the solar for a game of backgammon. Are you hungry? I feel as if I could eat something.”
Arissa glanced at her fair friend, flushed rosy with her pregnancy. “It is indeed a miracle if you feel like eating. Certainly I shall join you; mayhap I can convince my mother to prepare her special apple-and-cinnamon treat for us.”
Penelope nodded vigorously. “Your mother makes wonderful dishes; poor Whitby, we have taken away their talented cook.”
Arissa smiled, thinking on her raven-haired birth mother. “Whitby’s misfortune is my greatest fortuity,” she sighed, gazing into the hot blue sky above. “I am so very glad she has decided not to return to the cloister. She belongs here, with me. We have eighteen years of separation to make up for.”
“That is what Lady Ellyn said,” Penelope agreed softly. “I heard her tell Lady Maude that she’s destined to be with you, be it at Whitby or at Lambourn. And Lady Maude eagerly agreed.”
Arissa nodded. “How fortunate that I have two mothers who care deeply for me.”
She paused a moment in thoughtful silence, thinking on the relationship she and Lady Ellyn had formed.
No longer was the green-eyed woman known as Sister Repentia, a title she had given up the day she decided to remain at Lambourn.
Outside of the confines of the convent, her holy title seemed out of place and hollow.
At Lambourn, she had finally found a place where she belonged, a place where she could be happy. Anywhere Arissa was, she was happy.
“I thought there would be a great deal of jealousy between Lady Ellyn and Lady Maude for your attentions, but there has been none at all,” Penelope interrupted Arissa’s thoughts as she watched the clover under her feet. “In fact, they seem to work well as a team.”
Arissa made a face at the thought. “Team, indeed. Sometimes they can be most overbearing. Having one mother can be difficult enough, but two….” she rolled her eyes humorously, giggling when Penelope laughed.
“But my mother seems very happy to be here, don’t you think?
I am so glad Lady Maude has welcomed her into Lambourn’s family. ”
Penelope nodded, catching sight of her husband on the battlements. “Even though Lady Maude did not give you life, you are still her daughter. And she considers Lady Ellyn part of the family because she’s your birth mother.”
Arissa’s slippered feet met with the gravel and dirt road leading to the bailey of Lambourn. “I remember when I first met my mother at the abbey, how somber and quiet she was. As if the years of separation had taken something out of her. But here, she seems most content. She knows she belongs.”
“She belongs with you,” Penelope waved to her husband as he acknowledged her from the ramparts above.
Arissa agreed as she allowed her brother to lead her into the beautiful new bailey.
The babe in her belly kicked as she moved across the dusty courtyard and Arissa was positive it was because, naturally being not only a le Bec but a male child, he was expressing his pleasure at the sounds of horses and soldiers and weaponry.
All that his father was, he would soon be a part of, too.
In spite of the somewhat shocking pregnancy of an unwed lady, Arissa relished the feel of the life inside her.
She did not care what anyone else thought of her shameless state, for she knew the child had been conceived in love and devotion.
Both of her mothers knew that as well, especially Ellyn, who acutely remembered her similar circumstance those eighteen years ago.
Even if a few of the other occupants of Lambourn whispered and pointed, it was of no matter to Arissa. She was proud to bear the child of a man she loved with all her heart. A man she had loved for as long as she could remember.
The child gaining strength and size inside her was a portion of Richmond that crown or country could never take away, and she prayed every night that he survived the war in order than he might know his son.
However, as fearful as he had been of her conceiving a child, she wondered if the sight of her swollen body would be enough to accomplish what hordes of English knights had failed to achieve; perhaps the shock would be enough to send him to his grave.
As the small group crossed the bailey with leisure borne of a slow pace and obvious conditions, Daniel came swinging down the ladder from the battlements. Penelope thought he was coming to see her; instead, he focused directly on Bartholomew and Arissa.
“An army has been sighted a mile out, Bart,” he said. “Your father is coming home.”
Bartholomew’s face immediately brightened. “Are you sure?”
Daniel nodded, passing a glance at Arissa. “Henry’s banner has been sighted as well.”
The color drained from Arissa’s face. If the army was returning, then it could only mean something monumental had occurred; her father had been at the border for five months with nary a reprieve.
If the entire army was on the retreat, then it could only mean that the war for Wales’ freedom had come to a conclusion.
God help her, she did not want to know the details of the conclusion.
Bartholomew felt her sway in his grasp, his glee quickly turning to concern.
“Riss, I am sure he’s all right,” he whispered comfortingly, releasing his hold when Emma and Penelope took a firm grip on either arm.
“Allow Emma and Pen to escort you into the castle. I shall come to you with the details, I promise.”
She shook her head, her face pale and her lips colorless. Just as she attempted to refuse his request, Mossy came scurrying from the castle.
“I saw the banners!” he announced loudly. “The earl’s returned, and Richmond with him!”
Arissa nearly collapsed. “How can you say that?” she gasped. “He was fighting against my father and the rest of the English army, including Gavan, and they all want to kill him because he’s a traitor!”
Mossy took Arissa from Penelope’s grasp, patting her arm gently.
“Do not get yerself worked into a fit, Riss. Ye’ll bring about yer son far sooner than we would like, and I do not expect I would enjoy delivering a seventh-month babe,” he attempted to pull her toward the castle, but she was slow to come about.
Mossy simply patted her arm again in a comforting manner.
“If ye come, I shall make ye a brew of honey and rosehips. Ye like honey and rosehips, Riss.”