Timeless Tales of Honor

by Suzan Tisdale

  "That will be for your father to decide when he’s made aware of Lady Regine's escapade."

  Over his massive shoulder, Regine kicked and moaned in protest. Arissa passed her sister a despairing glance before refocusing on Richmond.

  "If you tell him now, you shall ruin the entire evening," she said in a low voice. "This can wait until the festivities are over."

  His jaw ticked. "My lady, one of my personal soldiers is presently awaiting a harsh sentence for molesting a woman of noble breeding. You fail to understand the severity of the situation."

  Regine kicked and cried again, catching Arissa's attention once more. Her fingers tightened around Richmond's free hand. "Put Regine down and we shall discuss this further."

  "There is nothing to discuss," he pulled his hand free. "After I have seen to your sister, I shall return to escort you to the feast."

  His manner was cold. Hard. A spark of anger ignited in Arissa's chest, immediately becoming a blaze of fury. She continued to gaze at him, her pale green eyes transforming from softly pleading to razor shards of ice. Damn him and his determined sense of duty!

  "Do not bother," she said coldly. "Since you see fit to ruin my birthday feast, I shall not be attending. For that matter, Richmond le Bec, I do not care if I ever see you again. Any man who would brutally handle a young girl and threaten chaos over a situation that could just as well wait until the morrow is unworthy of my attention or friendship."

  His gaze was steady. "I am sorry you feel that way." Turning for the corridor, he called to Daniel over his shoulder. "Since Lady Arissa wants nothing more to do with me, you will have the privilege of escorting the three young ladies to the feast. Do not be late."

  They could hear Regine's grunts and shrieks over Richmond's footfalls as they faded down the hall. Arissa stood in the center of her chamber, stunned and bewildered. The anger that had consumed her manner not a moment before was suddenly gone, replaced by tears of frustration and disbelief at Richmond's behavior.

  Penelope, Emma and Daniel exchanged uneasy glances as Arissa began to wipe at the tears that were bathing her cheeks. Daniel cleared his throat and moved toward her timidly.

  "My lady," he said softly. "Mayhap we should retire to the gallery and...."

  "Nay," she shook her head, cutting him off. "I shall not attend. Tell mother and father that I am feeling ill and wish to be left alone."

  "Riss...." Penelope began pleadingly.

  Arissa whirled toward her fair-haired friend. "Nay, Penelope! Tell my parents that I am ill; I am always ill and they will believe you without question. You and Emma and Daniel enjoy yourselves, but I am not in the mood for such gaiety. Go now. Please."

  "But it's your party, Riss," Emma pleaded softly.

  Arissa shook her head, turning away. "I am not.... going. Leave me."

  Daniel glanced to Penelope, who merely shrugged. Without another word, he herded the two young women out of the room, passing a long look at Arissa's dark head before shutting the door softly.

  Somehow, he had a feeling that she would not remain sequestered all night. He would not be at all surprised to find her in the gallery later, dancing the evening away in the arms of several admirers. And he would not be at all shocked if Richmond was included in that throng.

  Somehow, the two couldn't seem to remain apart. If he did not know better, he would have suspected the feelings ran beyond those of typical camaraderie. He would have suspected that there was far more to their relationship than met the eye. But Daniel knew that Richmond had practically raised Arissa; therefore, an intimate association would have been something of an incestuous action.

  But the fact remained that Richmond was not a blood relative. Daniel chewed his lip, deep in thought as he escorted Penelope and Emma to the stairs. If he did not know better....

  * * *

  Regine was bawling her eyes out; even so, she could have been dealt far worse. After Richmond took his hand to her backside, he had issued several commandments and, extracting her word that his demands would be adhered to, left her to compose herself.

  Alone in her bower, she had ripped the place apart in her anger and frustration towards Richmond le Bec. She did not bother to consider herself fortunate that a spanking was all she had been dealt. All that matter was the fact that Richmond was a hateful monster who did not understand her, and she would hate him forever.

  But it was not as if this was the first time he had disciplined her. He had become quite familiar with her fat white bottom over the years and she feared Richmond far more than any other authority figure, including her father. Richmond was not afraid to punish her, and her father allowed him the duty simply because he was not overly involved or interested in his children's lives. Unless the crime was of mortal consequence, he would not be bothered with it.

  But Richmond would. Where she perceived herself as suffering punishment and humiliation at the hands of the massive knight, the reality of the matter was that Richmond was trying to shape her character and instill the morals of right and wrong into her thick skull. Where she perceived his actions as cruelty, he knew them to be the result of his concern for her.

  And like any good father, Richmond knew of her fury and annoyance toward him, but he was impervious to it. As far as he was concerned, he had dealt with her in an extremely fair manner considering her offense and had no desire to waste another moment on the matter. His attention moved onward, away from the spoiled child, and focused on the arrival of his second in command less than a half hour earlier.

  Leaving Regine a howling mess, he descended the stairs into the gallery. Almost immediately, his gaze fell on Gavan in discussion with the earl. Thoughts of Regine and her deviant behavior faded altogether as he approached the two men.

  Gavan Hage was closer to him than a brother, an extremely handsome man of massive build. Eight years younger than Richmond with uncanny wisdom, Richmond was glad to see the man and shook the man's hand amiably.

  "If it isn't my wandering general," he said with a grin. "How gracious of you to bless us with your presence."

  Gavan cocked an eyebrow. "I did not come to see you, merely the Lady Arissa. It is her birthday, after all."

  "But you missed the festivities of the day," Richmond reminded him. "You had better have an excellent excuse if the lady is going to forgive your truancy."

  "Excellent, indeed," Gavan snorted. "I have spent the better part of yesterday searching for an appropriate gift. She will forgive me when she sees the lovely candle I brought her."

  Richmond scowled. "A mere candle for her birthday?" Laughing softly, he clapped the man on the shoulder. "You and I must have a talk regarding the gifts ladies prefer. I should hardly consider a candle a much-desired item."

  Gavan's lips pressed into a wry, flat line. "The earl thought it to be most suitable," he glanced to the rounded man beside him. "I am sorry, my lord. Richmond does not agree with your opinion."

  The earl snorted, reeking of the fine alcohol he had been imbibing in for the better part of an hour. "He rarely does where it pertains to Arissa," he muttered. "Since he deems your gift inappropriate, I should ask him what he selected for this most auspicious day. Well?"

  Richmond's expression did not waver, thinking on the lovely cross, the stolen kisses, and the amazing process of discovery taking place between them. “I am sure she will tell you in her own time, announcing my token of esteem to be the finest she’s received this day," he was half-jesting, half not. Wanting off the subject, he returned his focus to Gavan. "Tell me - how goes the situation in London?"

  Gavan's expression changed. It was not so much an obvious transformation as it was in the light in his eyes. Richmond caught the alteration and was needful to get the man alone.

  "Busy," Gavan replied evenly. "I have brought a few items for you, from Henry. In fact, I left them in my saddlebags. I shall go and get them."

  "I shall go with you," Richmond volunteered in a perfect excuse. When William dismissed them both and went about
his business, Richmond and Gavan strolled casually from the gallery. Instead of moving for the bailey en route to the knight's quarters, Gavan headed for a smaller solar off the main corridor, rarely used except by visitors and dallying servants.

  There was a small fire in the hearth, casting a warm glow about the dingy room. As the sun set, Gavan went to his satchel already deposited against the wall. Richmond closed the door quietly, making sure to bolt it.

  "What is wrong?" he asked, his voice a rumble.

  Gavan began to fumble through his bag. "A great deal, unfortunately. You were wise to leave me behind in case any further developments arose along the Welsh border."

  "And?"

  Gavan rose on thick legs, a missive in his hand. "God's Teeth, Richmond, where to begin?” he said. “When you left, Hotspur was holding the Welsh rebellion and Owen Glendower as best he could. Even though Owen had captured three garrisons, for the most part the English have the upper hand. Until Henry began expressing his displeasure at Hotspur's military abilities."

  Richmond cocked an eyebrow. "Displeasure with Henry Percy? I realize he was unhappy that three bastions had been captured by the Welsh, but he never expressed his dissatisfaction with Hotspur to me. In fact, he’s extremely pleased with the man's tactics."

  Gavan shook his head. "More than that, he’s simply pleased to have mighty Northumberland fighting his Welsh war. Just before you left, however, he began to intimate that the loss of the three fortresses to be Hotspur's fault. It took a mere day for word of the king's distrust to reach Henry Percy on the border and, I would imagine, he’s most disturbed with the king's treachery."

  Richmond drew in a deep, thoughtful breath. "You have not heard of his reaction?"

  Gavan shook his head. "It cannot be favorable. If Northumberland turns against Henry in retaliation for the king's lack of faith, the results could be devastating."

  "Devastating for Henry indeed. One cannot hold England and not be allied with Northumberland. They rule the north."

  Gavan eased himself onto the corner of a heavy table; the ride from London had been hard and he was beginning to feel his fatigue. Moreover, the weight of the news he bore was exhausting.

  "Both Henry and Hotspur are close to you. What will you do, Richmond? You will find yourself in the middle."

  Richmond was gazing off into the flickering hearth, his handsome face expressionless. After an eternal moment, he sighed. "I do not plan to do anything for the moment. Unless I hear otherwise, I shall continue to wait out the month at Lambourn and escort Lady Arissa to Whitby after the New Year. After that, I shall return to London and, I would suspect, move directly for the Welsh border to assist Hotspur with the rebellion."

  Gavan did not say anything for a moment. "What if Hotspur becomes the rebellion? His alliance with Henry is tenuous at best, and with the added insult of Henry's faithlessness, we may find ourselves in another civil war."

  Richmond moved away from the hearth, his brow creased with thought. "And we shall deal with it when, and if, it comes. But until such time, nothing changes," he motioned to the missive in Gavan's hand. "What is that?"

  Gavan rose and handed him the vellum. "From Henry. He would not tell me what it said."

  Richmond broke the red wax seal bearing the leopards and lions of England. Unrolling the missive, he moved to the hearth to read by the light.

  Gavan turned away from Richmond as he read the missive, pacing the stone floor and lost to his own thoughts. He continued to pace about, his mind lingering on Hotspur and paying little attention to his comrade reading by the dim flame.

  One minute turned into two, turned into five. When Gavan glanced up to see why Richmond was taking so long in digesting the missive, he was struck by the expression on his friend's face. He'd never seen a look of such.... shock.

  "What's the matter?" he demanded softly.

  Richmond was staring at the vellum as if he were looking into the bowels of hell. Gavan's voice seemed to snap him out of his trance, for the vellum suddenly flew into the flames and ignited in a burst of sparks. The parchment burned brightly.

  "Richmond, what does it say?"

  Richmond stared into the fluctuating flames. His mouth opened as if to speak, then closed again. Swallowing hard, he turned to Gavan.

  "A reward," he murmured. "Henry is rewarding me for my years of service...."

  Gavan peered closely at him, his brow furrowed with puzzlement. "I do not understand. And this displeases you?"

  Richmond let out a long sigh, striving to regain control of his reeling senses. He simply couldn't comprehend what he had read.

  "I do not want it," he said hoarsely, dragging his hands over his face as if he were about to lose his mind.

  "You do not want the reward?" Gavan took a step toward him, concerned with the emotion he was witnessing. Richmond was a man of consummate control and rarely, if ever, did he display his inner feelings. It was a disturbing sight at the very least, especially when Gavan did not understand the significance. Obviously, something was terribly wrong.

  Richmond stood by the wall, leaning against the cold stone for support as he struggled with his astonishment. Gavan moved towards him, eager to be of assistance if Richmond would allow. Never mind if the missive was not any of his business; he would make it his business.

  "What in the hell is going on, Richmond?" he demanded quietly. "Why are you so unbalanced?"

  Richmond felt Gavan's presence, slowly turning to look at him. A man he had literally trusted with his life for over ten years, and he had known him far longer than he could recall. He was a man who had no idea of the true situation around him; for all Gavan knew, Richmond and William were old friends, and Richmond was very fond of spending the majority of his time at Lambourn. Considering the Earl of Berkshire was a strong supporter of Henry, it was not an unusual situation.

  Never once had Gavan questioned Richmond's strong attachment to the earl and his family. Gazing into Gavan's brown eyes, Richmond realized that the time for truth had come.

  He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself. "What I am about to tell you will not leave this room. Do you understand?"

  Gavan nodded. "By my oath as a knight, I swear it."

  Richmond's gaze lingered on him a moment longer before pushing himself off the wall, pacing across the floor. "All is not what it appears to be, Gavan. I have been in Henry's service for eighteen years, a very long time. When I have not been fighting for Henry's throne, I have been here at Lambourn. My routine and dedication has never varied."

  Gavan's gaze was open, curious. Richmond continued. "I came into his service when he entrusted me with a special mission, a task of the utmost import. Henry himself selected me and for eighteen years I have completed this task flawlessly."

  Gavan was still gazing at him, but a look of puzzlement touched his features. "What task?"

  Richmond lowered himself onto the same table Gavan had occupied, raking his fingers through his dark brown hair. "I am the Lady Arissa's guardian. She’s Henry's daughter, the result of a liaison between himself and another woman. The woman was married to a knight who threatened to kill the babe, knowing she was not of his loins. When Arissa was five days old, I brought her here to Lambourn and have been her protector ever since."

  Gavan's puzzled expression bloomed into a look of complete astonishment. His mouth popped open as he stared at Richmond; quickly, he clamped his jaw shut and put a hand to his head as if to stop the spinning. "The Lady Arissa is Henry's daughter?"

  "Aye," Richmond's voice was a hoarse whisper. "William knows, of course, as does Lady Maude and Mossy. Including Henry and myself, there are only five people in possession of this knowledge. And now you. You understand why this revelation cannot become public knowledge."

  Gavan took a deep, unsteady breath as he attempted to calm his swirling thoughts. "It would seem there are several reasons why this cannot become public information. With the instability of Henry's reign, she would be a perfect target for blackmail o
r exploitation. Or her mother's husband may still be interested in being rid of her. God's Teeth, Richmond, no wonder we have spent the majority of the past ten years here at Lambourn. You have been watching over Riss!"

  Richmond nodded slowly, feeling every one of his thirty-nine years. "Watching over her like a hawk. And falling in love with her in the process."

  All of the color drained from Gavan's face. If he had been shocked before, that particular expression did not begin to encompass the surprise he felt at Richmond's subsequent admission. He stared at his friend as if he had gone completely daft.

  "You are in love with her?" he repeated in a strangled voice.

  Richmond glanced at his second, noting his disbelief. "Believe me, Gavan, I am equally stunned by the occurrence. It simply.... happened. More importantly, she returns my feelings."

  Gavan's mouth was hanging open again. "But she’s pledged to Whitby! What are you..?"

  Richmond put up a quelling hand. "I am well aware of the overall ramifications. I have thought of little else. Until this moment, my greatest worry was confronting Henry with the situation and demanding that he dissolve her contract to Whitby so that I could marry her, if he would even consider allowing the union to take place," he glanced at the red embers of the parchment smoldering in the hearth. "Unfortunately, Henry seems to have other plans for me."

  Gavan watched the dimming flames. "You mentioned a reward. What reward?"

  Richmond sighed heavily, rising from the table and clenching his huge fists. "For eighteen years of loyal service, Henry has seen fit to reward me by instigating a betrothal between myself and a very wealthy widow, a woman of importance and standing. 'Tis a tremendous honor, promising money and prestige, a distinction any man would be thrilled to receive," his gaze trailed up to Gavan, sluggish and somber. When he spoke, his tone was laced with irony. "But not me. I am acquainted with this woman and want no part of her."

  The anticipation of his answer caused Gavan to lean forward on the table, bracing himself with his thick arms. His brown eyes glittered. "Who?"