"Come, Regine, you have been schooled in basic mathematics," Richmond chided with a touch of humor. "Eighteen plus twenty-two is forty."
Regine's mouth opened with surprise. She never imagined he was that old. "You are forty?"
He nodded. "Almost. I am thirty-nine until the eve of the New Year. On the last day of December, I will become forty years old."
Arissa gazed at him lovingly, smiling as he chuckled at Regine's shock. "Look at him, Regine. Not a gray streak to blemish his hair, barely a line on his face. Isn't he wonderful?"
As Regine studied him closely, Richmond merely waved them both off. "You cannot see the age lines because the light is so dim. Under direct sunlight, my face looks like the map of France. Roads and boundaries crisscrossing all through it."
The girls giggled loudly. He smiled at them both, laughing at his own expense. All of the tension, the fear, that had occupied their world just moments prior seemed to have vanished. As if a new understanding had dawned between the three of them; certainly, Richmond had never been more satisfied nor more content with Arissa in his arms, and Regine's mannerisms were somehow bordering on those of a normal, respectful lady as opposed to the spoiled wench he had come to know.
It was as if they had progressed to a new level of comprehension. Even though Regine knew the details of an explosive secret, Richmond found himself willing to trust her oath of silence. Not that she had ever proven herself to be trustworthy in the least; yet, somehow, he was willing to take the chance. Furthermore, he had little choice.
He hadn't realized his thoughts to be drifting away from the conversation until Arissa gently touched his cheek, bringing him back into the world at hand. He turned to her, drinking in her beauty with more appreciation than he had ever known. Regine sat beside them, fumbling with her surcoat and pondering her own quieting thoughts. When Richmond whispered something to Arissa and her sister giggled, Regine's attention was again drawn to the happy couple.
In spite of everything, she was thrilled to see her sister so content. But along with that reflection, the undeniable reality of Whitby Abbey suddenly entered her thoughts and she found herself intensely curious over her sister's established future.
"Are you still going to Whitby, Riss?"
Arissa's smile vanished in spite of Richmond's encouraging expression. He answered for her. "She’s still going, but she will not stay for long. We will be married as soon as I can arrange it."
"Married?" Regine repeated, incredulous. "You are going to marry my sister?"
He smiled faintly, kissing Arissa loudly on the cheek in spite of her somber expression. "Not only am I going to marry her, she’s going to bear me a dozen sons and we will live happily ever after."
Regine thought on that a moment, still stunned by the news. "Does father know?"
Richmond's light demeanor vanished. "He does not. And neither does anyone else, Regine. This is why you must adhere to your pledge of silence. Were you to allow our intentions to slip, the consequences could be devastating, not only for Arissa but for me as well. Do you understand this?"
Regine nodded solemnly. "I swear it, Richmond, I shall not say a word."
Even if Richmond was convinced she was sincere, Arissa remained leery. But she kept silent, not wishing to provoke her sister into breaking her promise. Knowing Regine, it would take very little for her to attempt to seek revenge against the implication of distrust.
"If you do not mind, Regine, I should like to retire for the night. And Richmond must be leaving," she rose from his lap, allowing him to stand. Regine stood, moving obediently for the door. Arissa and Richmond watched the young girl as she crossed the room, noting her submissive manner and lowered head.
But when Regine reached the old iron latch, she suddenly paused; turning, her eyes sought her elder sister with a quiet intensity. "Was it really wonderful, Riss?"
Arissa met her sister's gaze. Slowly, a smile creased her lips. "Aye, Regine. It was."
Digesting the reply, Regine quit the room. When the door closed behind her, Arissa turned to Richmond.
"I did not lie. It really was wonderful."
He took her in his arms, embracing her tightly. "And for me, kitten. Until Regine's intrusion, it was a taste of heaven."
Arissa sighed against his chest, hearing his strong heartbeat. "I do not know if I trust her to keep our secret."
"We have little choice. But do not forget; even as she knows our secret, we know a few of hers and that knowledge alone should keep her lips sealed."
"I hope so. If my father were to find out what has happened, he might turn you over to Ovid de Rydal with good riddance."
He snorted softly. "I doubt he would allow Ovid the pleasure of punishing me. William would gladly take the duty himself."
Outside, a fog was beginning to descend and the shouts of the sentries could be heard upon the battlements. Lambourn was full of visiting houses and soldiers, the sounds of merriment and gaiety spilling out into the massive bailey as drunken guests perused the grounds.
Richmond heard the noises, knowing Gavan would be wondering what had become of him. His second in command had been busy all day shouldering the security of Lambourn and was no doubt weary. As Richmond had promised hours earlier, he would take the night duty. But the thought of spending the night up on the battlements as opposed to Arissa's warm bed was discouraging.
Discouraging, but necessary. He knew very well that he couldn't stay and night duty was an excellent deterrent. Kissing the raven-hued hair beneath his chin, he sighed loudly.
"I must be going,” he said. “I have drawn the night watch along with Daniel."
"Daniel is probably with Penelope," she said softly, looking to him with pleading eyes. "Do not leave yet. Stay with me a while longer."
He shook his head, smiling. "Nay, kitten, I would most certainly be missed when I did not show up at my post. Someone would come looking for me."
She gave him a wistful smile. "Very well. Will I see you at the morning meal?"
"I will be at your door before the sun rises. But for tonight, I must protect you while you sleep."
They meandered to the door, arm in arm. When Arissa reached for the latch, Richmond drew her into a fierce embrace. She grinned, a delightfully seductive gesture, as his lips descended upon her honeyed mouth.
"You are making me mad for the want of you," he murmured against her lips. "I shall never have enough."
She laughed softly, returning his kisses with equal passion. "I do not want you to ever gain enough. I want you to crave me, need me, lust for me."
"I already feel all of those things and more. How cruel you are to wish torture upon me."
"`Tis torture for me as well. I doubt I shall sleep tonight, thinking of your wonderful kisses and magnificent touch."
He kissed her one last time, tenderly, before disengaging himself. "I want you to sleep," he said quietly, the warmth in his eyes reaching out to stroke her like a gentle caress. "I want you to sleep and dream of me."
The door opened and he took a step into the corridor. Arissa's soft voice made him pause, turn towards her.
"My dreams have already come true. All else is excessive."
He gave her a wink. "Dreams of our passion will never be excessive. It is beyond the comprehension of mere mortals."
He did not leave until she shut the door and bolted it. Hearing his boot falls fade down the torch-lit hall, she couldn't help the ecstatic smile that graced her lips. A smile that moved through her body, sending bolts of joy though her limbs until her feet began to move.
Arissa spun in aimless, euphoric circles until she could no longer stand. Even then, she simply lay on the floor and giggled like a fool.
* * *
In spite of her vow to lament Richmond's absence, Arissa slept like the dead. A deep, dreamless sleep that was invaded by shouts and commotion from the bailey. She burrowed under the coverlet in an attempt to escape the irritating noises, but they grew louder and more harried until Ar
issa finally tossed back the covers in groggy frustration.
Her room was nearly dark as she fumbled for the flint and candle. After a few unsuccessful attempts, she managed to light the small tallow taper. The temperature was icy as she climbed from the bed, moving towards the oiled cloth covering the long lancet window that overlooked the bailey. Pulling back the cloth, she peered into the early dawn.
An extremely heavy fog had descended during the night, coating all things with a dusting of mist. She could barely see the wall from where she stood, shrouded in a thick gray haze. But she was acutely aware of the soldiers upon the battlements, dark shadowy figures, racing about in apparent urgency. The bailey, too, was alive with more soldiers than she had ever seen and she was understandably curious.
It was as if they were preparing for something, or someone, but she couldn't imagine who would be visiting Lambourn this time of the morning. There was a level of frenzy to the activity that she had never seen before, an anxiety she could nearly touch. Her curiosity mounted as she watched the tumult and she seriously considered leaving the privacy of her bower to seek her answers. If they weren't going to let her sleep, then she was determined to know what was going on. Mayhap Richmond was running the men through another drill, which was not uncommon. He believed in keeping the men under his command fit and prepared.
She frowned as she realized Richmond to be at the head of the commotion. It was most likely just another military exercise and her frustration with him mounted. When he came to escort her to the morning meal, she was going to give him an earful for disturbing her sleep. Her anger with him grew as she watched companies of soldiers mount the battlements, armed to the teeth with crossbows and weapons. Then, a barrage of flame arrows lit up the early morning sky.
Arissa shrieked in terror, watching as the arrows roared over the top of the wall, pelting the bailey below with their heat and death. Most landed in the dirt, a few struck targets, and the entire horde of soldiers and knights swung into action.
The unmistakable sounds of a battle filled the air, the distant sounds of destriers screaming and men shouting their confusion and excitement. The battlements were jammed with Lambourn soldiers, as well as Richmond's troops and those from other neighboring houses. It was ironic that Lambourn possessed all of the reinforcements she would ever need; unfortunately, the enemy had trapped them inside the walls like a great herd of captured cattle.
Corralled inside the massive edifice, there was naught to do but defend as best they could against the onslaught from an enemy who had used the shielding cloak of a winter fog to mask their approach. On the battlements and in the bailey, the soldiers prepared with determination and patience borne from men who had seen battle time and time again. They would defend, repel, and hope they did not die in the process.
Deep within the structure of Lambourn, William and Maude were roused from a deep sleep to the news that their beloved castle was under attack. Maude cried as William donned his armor, staunchly determined to defend what was his. As the rest of the household became aware of the situation, fear and terror ran rampant. Several important households were sheltered within the seat of the Berkshire earldom and, should it succumb, a great many important people would fall victim.
But nobles and servants alike took comfort in the fact that a multitude of soldiers were housed within Lambourn; surely she would not fall with hundreds of men to protect her from the invaders. And, surely, she would not crumple to defeat with Richmond le Bec leading her defense. One of Henry's greatest military minds was at the head of their protection.
Surely, they would emerge unscathed. The identical prayer reverberated throughout every room and every chamber in the frightened, assailed fortress. A prayer for deliverance.
Lambourn was under siege.
Ten
By noon, the fog had barely lifted and the heavy smell of smoke and death permeated the thick air. The battle had been ugly and fierce, and as Arissa sat high in her bower with Penelope, Emma and Regine, they still hadn't received confirmation as to whom, exactly, they were at war against. The faceless, evil enemy beyond the walls occupied their every thought and their gloom was as weighty as the fog that cloaked the countryside.
Penelope couldn't stop sobbing. Daniel had been in the heat of the battle since the beginning and she was terrified for him. Emma had taken to biting her nails to the skin while Regine and Arissa stood by the lancet window, watching the chaos as it progressed. It was still so hazy that it was difficult to make out much at all, but still, they stood vigilant, waiting for the moment when the fog would lift and the hellish chaos below would be revealed.
The group barely spoke, nor did they eat. A great deal of upheaval was occurring within the realm of their beloved home and as frightened as they were, there was also a degree of anger. Who would be so bold as to disturb their peaceful existence? What malevolent bastard was intent upon invading their lives? Questions to which there were no ready answers.
Sometime that morning, Arissa did not remember exactly when, she had changed out of her brocade robe and into a heavy surcoat of gray and white linen. Underneath, she had swathed herself in thick, soft woolen undergarments that protected her against the cold. Her lovely hair was gathered into a net as she stood by the window, stoically observing the white-shrouded battle. It was remarkable that she had managed to stay so calm in light of the fact that she had never before witnessed a skirmish. Lambourn hadn't seen a siege in over forty years.
"What do you suppose is happening?" Regine asked softly, breaking into her thoughts.
Arissa tore her gaze away from the scene below, glancing at her sister. Strange that in spite of the fact Regine had obscenely invaded her privacy the night before, Arissa felt closer to her baby sister than she ever had. As if they shared a common bond, a common secret. When Regine had appeared at her door shortly after dawn, they had simply hugged each other in fearful silence.
Arissa shook her head, returning her attention to the bailey. "I do not know. It seems to have quieted somewhat."
Penelope, her eyes red and swollen, stumbled to the window.
"Have you seen Daniel?"
Arissa put her arm about her friend's delicate shoulders.
"Nay, Pen. In fact, 'tis difficult to see anyone with the fog as heavy as it is. But do not fret; I am sure Daniel is safe."
Penelope whimpered, terrified that Daniel was somewhere below, lying dead with an arrow through his heart. As the three women gazed out over the compound, a heavy rain began to fall.
It was no time before the bailey was a swamp of muck. The men-at-arms quickly became soaked through to their woolen undergarments, whereas the armor shielding the knights afforded them slightly better protection against the icy rain. The conditions of battle quickly became even more miserable, if such a thing was possible.
They were so busy in their attempt to gain a glimpse of the courtyard that they were barely aware when the door to Arissa's chamber squeaked open. Lady Livia stepped into the room, smiling timidly as several pairs of eyes turned to her in rapid sequence. Noting that her daughter had chewed her fingers bloody with apprehension, she reached out to gently still the young, worried hands.
"We are serving the nooning meal in the hall," she said in a pleasant, entirely forced tone. "It would do you good to be free of this room for a time and enjoy the offered fare."
Emma had no choice; her mother had her by the hands and was pulling her to stand. When Penelope shook her head miserably, Lady Livia simply took her by the arm firmly and encouraged her toward the door.
"Come along, Arissa, Regine," she said resolutely. "The battle will not be won or lost if you leave your post by the windows."
"Who has attacked us?" Arissa asked quietly, her eyes still riveted to the fog beyond her window.
Lady Livia paused a moment, reluctant to answer. After a moment, she sighed faintly. "We cannot be sure, but your father believes it to be de Rydal."
Arissa's eyes widened abruptly and she whirled to
face her mother's lady-in-waiting.
"Revenge!" she gasped. "They are seeking revenge against Richmond!"
Lady Livia nodded in resignation. "We have not been able to confirm this information with Sir Richmond. He’s had his hands full since the attack began."
Arissa's calm had fled. Ovid de Rydal was intent upon killing her beloved, at the expense of Lambourn no less. Vengeance for the attempted murder of his conceited, pompous, dull-witted son.
Terror flooded her veins. Richmond had said Ovid would not attempt such a bold action as to declare war against his liege. He had been wrong.
"You have not seen Richmond at all?" she asked, her thin voice quaking.
Lady Livia shook her head. "He was on the battlements when the attack occurred. I am told had it not been for his sharp eyes, we would have been caught unaware. Thank God he had been on duty this night, not sleeping in his chamber like the rest of us."
Arissa nearly winced, her desperate request resounding in the depths of her mind; she had asked him to stay the night with her. Her stomach twisted with the sickening realization that if he had done as she had asked, Lambourn would probably be in a great deal of trouble at this moment because he would not have been up on the battlements to sense the impending attack. Richmond's own words suddenly came to bear, reminding her of the element of fate.
All things happen for a reason, Riss. Good or bad.
She was grateful that he had not remained with her as she had begged. Not only would Lambourn have been compromised, but Richmond's men would have come looking for him. And they would have found him where he was not supposed to be - in her bed.
Saying a silent prayer to God for his foresight and wisdom befalling the chain of events, she followed Lady Livia from the room.
* * *
David and Lyle had been fighting alongside Lambourn soldiers since before dawn. It was a perfect situation for them; the Lambourn soldiers thought they were from a different house, and the soldiers of different standards thought them to be from Lambourn. Each faction believed them to be serving another. It was a perfect cover.
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