"In her bower with Lady Livia and Lady Maxine, I believe," Regine said, shaken and fatigued by the day of events.
In Richmond's arms, Arissa suddenly twitched and her eyes opened wide. Fat tears began to spill down her temples. "Bart! One of those men killed him!"
Regine let out a horrified cry and Richmond grabbed hold of the younger girl in a supportive, if not quieting, gesture. He eyed her as she sobbed heavily, his brow furrowed with concern as he returned his attention to Arissa.
"You are sure, kitten? How do you know?"
Weeping softly, Arissa struggled to answer. "They.... they broke into Mossy's sanctuary and Bart tried to defend me. They killed him!"
Regine's sobs grew louder as Richmond continued to gaze at Arissa, his age and exhaustion suddenly evident on his features. They had already lost Carlton to the attack, and now Bartholomew. Lady Maxine had not yet been informed of her husband's passing; Richmond had been making his way into the castle to inform her of his death when he had been met by a frantic Mossy.
Richmond had forgotten all about Carlton when Mossy demanded that he save Arissa from her abductors. The only matter of import had been to rescue his charge, his love, and he cursed himself for being neglectful enough to forget the death of his friend until reminded inadvertently at this moment. As if Carlton's death had been meaningless. On the contrary; Carlton had taken a blade meant for Richmond himself.
He sighed heavily, closing his eyes briefly in a blatant display of disgust. He simply could not understand what was happening; from the details of Tad de Rydal's ambush to the revelation of Arissa's abduction, nothing made any sense and he was too weary at the moment to attempt the feat of detailed comprehension. Whatever the answers he sought, he would hap upon them soon enough.
The only matter of concern at the moment, however, was taking care of Arissa and informing Lady Maxine of her husband's death. After that, he would confirm Arissa's story of Bartholomew's demise and brace himself for the eventuality of delivering the news to the young man's parents. An event he was dreading already.
But he forced himself to focus on the task at hand as Arissa began to quiver in his arms. She was cold and damp and he was eager to plunge her into the hot water.
"Regine," he gently shook the hysterical young girl. "Be a good lass and see what's keeping Penelope. Go on now; that's a good girl."
Hiccupping and weeping, Regine shuffled across the floor as Mossy and Gavan appeared in the doorway. Gavan peered curiously at the youngest de Lohr.
"What's the matter, love?"
"B-art's dead!" she sobbed.
Shocked, Gavan looked to Richmond as he stood with Arissa in his arms. Before Richmond could reply, Mossy moved into the room with far less energy than he usually exhibited. "He’s not dead, though I expect he will be shortly," he said in a thin voice. "The lad defended Arissa bravely, but he simply was not skilled enough with a blade. It was a short fight."
Richmond sighed heavily with sorrow and disgust. "God be merciful," he murmured fervently, moving towards the tub. "Where is he now?"
"In my sanctuary," Mossy replied. "I did what I could for him. The rest is up to God."
Richmond reached the tub with Arissa lethargically in his arms. "Gavan, see if there is anything else to be done for the lad. If he’s already dead, then move him to where Carlton lies. And see what is transpiring outside and report back to me. I would know what level of resistance we are currently meeting with."
Arissa couldn't decide if she should be delighted that her brother lived still or grief-stricken because he was not expected to survive. 'Twas a wild field of emotions wreaking havoc in her muddled mind. But over her concern for Bartholomew's predicament, she understood Richmond's words regarding Penelope's father and a new measure of sorrow gripped her.
"Carlton is dead?" she asked.
Richmond set her down gently, peeling away the coverlet. "Aye, kitten. But Penelope does not know. Not a word to her, please. I have not told her mother yet."
Gavan escorted Regine from the room, closing the door softly. When the last of the coverlet fell away from Arissa's shivering body, Richmond gently helped his very naked charge into the tub. With a sniffle and a sigh, Arissa submerged herself up to her neck.
As she soaked in the steaming water, Mossy examined the lump on her forehead. "It's not too severe," he observed. "Do yer ears ring, Riss?"
"A little," she said quietly. "I am terribly tired."
"No doubt," Mossy said, digging through his bag. Suddenly, a large rat popped forth and skittered across the floor, vanishing underneath the bed. Mossy acted as if he hadn't noticed the rodent, continuing to rummage through his satchel. "Damn rats. They like to eat my pessaries."
"Pessaries?" Arissa repeated.
"Aye." Mossy suddenly drew forth a pouch, shoving it at Richmond. When Richmond looked puzzled, the ancient crone fixed him in the eye. "To prevent pregnancy,” he said. “Since ye and Arissa are lovers, there is a great need to prevent her from conceiving before ye can marry her. Were she to become pregnant, it would become a terrible scandal, not to mention the nuns would probably take the babe away and ye'd never see it again. Do ye understand what I am telling ye?"
Richmond stared at him a moment, moving woodenly to accept the pouch. "I.... I understand all too well," he swallowed, slanting Arissa a glance. "How did you know?"
Mossy dabbed Arissa's bruise with a clear salve. "She told me. But I will tell ye that I was not surprised. I have been expecting it."
Richmond did not know what to say. He touched Arissa's hair as Mossy tended her wound, his weary thoughts threatening to consume his sanity. Far more had happened in the past two days than he could hope to comprehend and his exhausted mind was fairly numb with the entirety of events. When the old man finished spreading the ointment, he returned his attention to his bag once again.
"Ye might want to consider using the pessaries indefinitely, Richmond," he said softly. "Arissa's health is delicate and were she to conceive, it might prove to be too much for her. With her petite stature and yer massive size, the child she would bear would most likely kill her. I know ye'd consider her life over the desire for an heir."
Arissa's eyes came open and she looked to Mossy, suddenly lucid. "That's ridiculous, Mossy. I shall not hear such nonsense. Richmond must have a dozen heirs."
Richmond scratched his head. "He’s simply thinking of your health, Riss. Mayhap we should listen...."
"Nay!" she spat. "I shall not listen to him, and I shall not use his foolish pessaries!"
Richmond stood up, patting her shoulder gently. "All right, kitten, all right. Do not get yourself worked up. There will be plenty of time to discuss this later."
She shook her head firmly, feeling her body relax as he began to massage her neck. "There's nothing to discuss," she said softly, closing her eyes against his touch. "I shall bear you a host of sons in spite of Mossy's worry. I can do it."
Behind Arissa, Richmond passed a lingering glance at Mossy. "I know you can, kitten." But he did not mean it.
A heavy silence descended on the room, the faint sounds of the waning battle permeating the air. Richmond knew the conflict was declining and he was not planning on returning to the action to clean up the remnants; Daniel was in charge and could handle the task admirably. Furthermore, he had completed his duty; he had saved Lambourn with his intelligence and tactics and considered his function fulfilled for the moment.
From the most strenuous of duties to the tenderest of tasks, he continued to massage Arissa's shoulders, trying desperately not to linger on her magnificent breasts just below the waterline. She was warming under his hands, her spirit and life returning and he was infinitely grateful that God had given him the strength and skill to save her from the most intense peril yet.
As Richmond pondered the fortunes of Fate, Mossy sat on the edge of the bed, rummaging through his bag as usual. The man could never remain still for any length of time and Richmond passed him a curious glance, wo
ndering what on earth he was looking for.
"What did the soldier mean when he referred to me as Henry's daughter?" Arissa's voice pierced the air, thin and barely audible.
Richmond continued to rub her shoulders, not daring to glance at Mossy. The old man, thankfully, hadn't faltered in his rummaging. Except for the fact that he was making more noise than usual, Richmond would have thought he hadn't heard the question at all.
When Richmond did not answer right away, Arissa turned to look at him. The lump on her forehead was already turning shades of blue as their gazes locked.
"Do you know what he meant? You did not seem surprised by his words, Richmond. In fact, you said that Owen could not have me. Who is Owen?"
Richmond stopped his gentle massage. He couldn't help but look to Mossy then; the old man had stopped digging through his satchel and was focused openly on Richmond, as if waiting for the knight to deliver a comprehensive explanation. Obviously, he was expecting Richmond to single-handedly deal with the situation.
Seeing he would receive little, if any, support from the old man, Richmond scratched his head thoughtfully and crouched beside the tub.
"Owen Glendower is the Welshman resisting England's rule of Wales," he said quietly.
Her gaze was open, inquisitive. "The soldier said he was going to take me to Owen. Why would he do that, Richmond? Why in the world would he want me?"
Mossy rose from the bed, stiffly, feeling every one of his eighty-odd years. "De Rydal's attack was a cover for her abduction, Richmond. Of that I am sure. To distract ye from Arissa and then spirit her away to Wales was their true objective."
Richmond glanced to the old man. "I do not believe that was the case, although it was a convenient and coincidental happening. Ovid was screaming for my head from the moment his army attacked. He wanted me, to be sure. The men who abducted Arissa must have been here prior to the attack and simply used the assault to their advantage."
"That may be so, but the point is that Owen knows she’s here. And he will undoubtedly attempt to abduct her again."
Richmond opened his mouth, but Arissa suddenly leapt into the conversation. "What are you talking about? Richmond, what's happening?"
Richmond's gaze fell on her once more. Her inquisitive look was gone, replaced by a measure of suspicion and bewilderment. He sighed heavily; she was eighteen, a woman grown, and old enough to know of her true heritage. Moreover, it would be difficult to conceal any factual evidence from her at this point, for she had already heard several portions of the truth.
Henry had wanted to tell her himself when she was old enough to understand the significance of her position. William had been forbidden to tell her, but Richmond was under no such orders. Gazing into her wide green eyes, he could see the time for truth had come.
It was his right and privilege to inform her of her true heritage. Even as he considered it a necessity in the wake of recent events, he was nonetheless seized with degree of apprehension. Clearly, for her own safety, Arissa needed to know what was going on around her.
Before she could ask again, he took a deep breath and brought her hand to his lips for a tender kiss.
"What I am about to tell you will undoubtedly shock you, Riss. But above all else, I want you to remember how very much I love you. That will never change."
Her expression turned faintly guarded as he watched. The fingers against his lips began to caress his stubble. "What is it?"
He paused a moment as he collected his thoughts, studying her beautiful face with a twinkle in his eye. "What are your first recollections of me?"
She blinked, initially in confusion and then in thought. "I can remember you for as long as I can recall. I recollect when I was very young, you brought me a white rabbit for my birthday and the rabbit scratched me."
He smiled faintly, a tender warmth settling between them. She was calm and open, trusting him as she always had. He would strive to maintain the delicate faith between them as the conversation progressed.
"You were three years old at the time," he said softly. "You cried so hard that you vomited. Not from pain, but because your feelings were hurt. Do you remember?"
She nodded, sheepish. "I do," her gaze roved over his chin, his hand clasping hers, and he saw her take a deep, steadying breath. "You have always been with me, Richmond. And I have always loved you."
He kissed her hand again. "I first met you when you were five days old. I remember a tiny baby with a lusty cry endearing herself to me even then," he held her hand tightly, meeting her gaze as he spoke. "You were born in London. I remember carrying a tiny little bundle all the way to Lambourn, terrified that some mishap would befall you before I was able to complete the journey. And I remember handing you into the waiting arms of Mossy. God's Teeth, he made a fuss over you."
She stared at him for several long moments in obvious confusion. "I.... I was not born at Lambourn?"
He shook his head slowly, gently. "Nay, love."
Gazing into Richmond's beloved eyes, she felt little fear and minimal apprehension. Only the natural surprise of the secrets he was beginning to allude to.
After a moment, she licked her lips and her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "But....I am not.... am I not Maude's daughter? She’s never been to London, Richmond."
His expression was terribly tender, his voice calm and soothing. "You are not Maude's daughter. You are the result of a liaison between Henry of Bolingbroke and a woman not his wife. Henry and I have been friends since we were children and when you were born, he entrusted me with your protection. For eighteen years, I have been your protector."
He delivered the news so gently, so casually, that she truly was not shocked. More than anything, she felt a peculiar sense of peace. It was as if somehow, she had always known that she had been different. It hadn't been the fact that her entire family was fair while she herself possessed strikingly dark features. While her siblings and parents were heavy-set and robust, she had always been thin and frail.
Her sensation of dissimilarity had been more of a feeling, a nagging thought that had plagued the recesses of her mind. Mayhap, she had always sensed her difference and not even realized it.
Suddenly, a great deal became clear - Richmond's constant presence, his authority when it came to her welfare. As she gazed into his beautiful face, it was as if a curtain lifted and the sun was shining through. She was coming to understand.
"You are my protector?" she whispered.
He nodded faintly. "I protect your soul, your body, and would deliver you from those who would seek to harm you. I have spent the majority of my adult life watching you blossom into a woman of unbelievable magnificence. I could not imagine a more worthwhile duty than that."
Her gaze lingered on him a moment before looking to Mossy. "You have always known this?"
Mossy shuffled to the tub, a quirky smile on his lips. "Can I tell ye what I remember? A young knight with bright blue eyes who was absolutely terrified of the tiny, fragile babe within his care. Every time ye cried, I thought he was going to collapse. I have never seen anyone so nervous whilst clutching a new child."
Richmond shrugged as if to concede his point, while Arissa's astonished expression took on a shade of a smile.
"Fortunately, he seems to have overcome his fear of touching me." Absently, she touched her cheek as if to make sure she was not dreaming the entire conversation. Although calm, her expression was still somewhat dazed. "Sweet St. Jude, Richmond. Is that what the soldier meant? That I am the king's daughter and, therefore, his enemies would harm me?"
"Potentially,” he nodded. “Which is why I have been by your side for eighteen years, with little exception. The only instances I have left you have been the result of very necessary situations. But I always returned to Lambourn, eager to resume my station."
Her pale eyes met his blue eyes and he could literally read the thoughts rolling through her mind. "All of these years.... it never seemed strange to me that you were always here, always by my side,
when it was common knowledge that you were sworn to Henry. I loved you so much that I simply did not care why you were here. But when you left, I always felt as if you had ripped out my heart and taken it with you."
He continued to gaze at her, astonished that she had digested the details of his disclosure with such ease. He had expected shock, denial, disbelief at the very least. Instead, she had accepted the information without question.
Arissa had grown up knowing the man before her, loving him with all of her heart, and knowing that he would never lie to her. If he said she was Henry's daughter, then she would accept it. Everything he was telling her made perfect sense.
Richmond broke in to her gently rolling thoughts. "Whenever I went away, it was under Henry's direct orders," he said. "Literally, I was forced to react. Usually it was because he wanted first-hand knowledge of your wellbeing or, within the past few years, to fight for his throne."
Absently, she touched a black tendril of damp hair in lingering thought. "I.... I do not look anything like him. I saw him once, when I was young. He’s fair."
"You favor your mother."
"Do you know who my mother is?"
He cleared his throat quietly, thinking. He was not sure it would be a wise thing to tell her every circumstance of her birth, at least not now. "I met her the night I took you to Lambourn. I have not seen her since, and I have no knowledge of her whereabouts."
More than the mere revelation of being Henry's daughter, Arissa's face softened at the thought of the faceless, unknown mother who had been forced to give her up those years ago. Even though she had never birthed a child, she instinctively knew how badly the woman must have hurt to have been forced to relinquish her flesh and blood. Unless.... unless she had been willing to discard the unwanted royal bastard.
A stab of sorrow pierced her heart at the thought that she had been deliberately cast-off. Mayhap the woman had simply turned over the fragile little girl without a second thought on the matter.
"Why do you look like that?" Richmond broke into her thoughts yet again, kissing her hand again tenderly.
Timeless Tales of Honor Page 59
