He
opened his mouth as he approached the earl, determined to get in the first
word. But it was not fast enough.
"Richmond,
I have a request of you," William said in his usual aggressive manner,
watching the portcullis come to a grinding halt. "Lady Maude and I...."
Richmond
stepped all over his words. "I cannot tend your guests, William. I have
quite a number of duties of my own. You are well aware that I am not the
diplomatic sort."
William
raised his eyebrows. "I was not going to ask you to entertain my guests.
God's Teeth, man, a corpse would have better manners hosting a crowd. I was
simply going to ask that you escort Arissa this day. I realize you have a good
many duties, assisting Carlton and Daniel with the day's events, but I do not
want Arissa without a knightly escort. Will you do this?"
Would
he escort Arissa though her day, tracking her every move, listening to her
laughter and drawing strength from the sound of her voice? His sharp manner
abruptly subsided. "I have always been my lady's shadow," he said
after a moment, his voice soft. "'Tis unnecessary to make such a
request."
William
cocked an eyebrow, somewhat amused. "Yet I make it all the same. I know
how consumed you can be when it comes to sports and games, and with most of the
family preoccupied with our visitors, I did not wish for Arissa's safety to
suffer. Leave the games to one of your officers. I have made a far more
important request of you."
Richmond
did not reply. He'd been Arissa's escort for more functions than he could
remember, shadowing the giddy young woman and her silly friends. He'd grown
accustomed to their childish chatter and foolish pranks and, somehow, they
always seemed to make him smile where grown men failed.
He
wondered why he suddenly felt differently escorting Arissa to her own party. In
the past, he had acted in a near fatherly manner, treating her as one would a
daughter or niece. He'd given little thought to chasing off the eager beaus,
casting a threatening glance and conveying more danger than mere words could
express. It had always been the same, a duty he had taken great pleasure in.
But
no longer. If a young man approached her this day, he was not at all sure he would
not take the potential suitor's head off. Certainly, a fatherly attitude no
longer prevailed. As if.... as if a new dimension had been added since their
baffling encounter last night. When he had held her as one would a lover.
He
forced himself away from his gripping thoughts, focusing on the earl. "So
I shall play nursemaid to The Horde this day? I must be receiving punishment
for a great offense I have unknowingly committed against you."
William
laughed, watching his men scatter as the first of the de Rydal's escort rode
into the bailey. "Better you than me."
Arissa
chose that moment to exit the castle, positively ravishing in green silk.
Although it was far too cool to move about without a wrap, she would have
refused a cloak from God himself if it meant concealing her new surcoat. She
had already received two compliments from the servants as she exited the castle
and thought, mayhap, that her own conservative observations had been wrong.
Mayhap the garment did not make her took too short or too busty.
A
cool gust of wind caught her and she involuntarily shivered, her pale green
eyes riveted to the party just passing under the portcullis. Several feet to
her right stood her father, Bartholomew, and several knights including
Richmond.
Swallowing
her nerves, she descended the stairs towards the men. With every step, she
began to hope that she would see Richmond's approval in his eyes, a silent
appreciation for the trouble she had gone through to make herself lovely. His
word and his alone would decide how she truly felt about her appearance.
She'd
lied when she had told Penelope and Emma that she had little concern whether or
not Richmond attended her birthday. It was the best possible gift she had could
have hoped for. The only gift she truly wanted.
Richmond
caught a flash of green from the corner of his eye. Turning with mild
disinterest, his blue eyes came to rest upon a sight so incredibly beautiful that
he swore he was gazing upon a window open to Heaven. Certainly, only angels
were in possession of such beauty.
Arissa
smiled at him and he felt his aging joints turn to warm, silly, wicked mush.
His heart thumped madly against his ribs as she greeted her father and brother,
accepting birthday kisses from the both of them. William was particularly proud
of his eldest daughter, praising her beauty, her poise, her charm. Arissa
smiled through all of it, absorbing it as any young maiden would.
Richmond
continued to watch her through fascinated eyes. He thought, however, that her
gaze was continually drawn to him, even as her father prattled on about the
events scheduled for the day. The pale green eyes managed to find him
regardless of who she was talking to. Or mayhap it was his imagination; mayhap
he was seeing what he wished to see, his obsession causing him to hallucinate.
Why would a creature as lovely and perfect as Arissa de Lohr allow her gaze to
linger on an aging knight who was well past his prime?
Even
if he was merely imagining her attention, his gaze was unmistakably lingering
on her. When William took her hand and led her over to Richmond, placing her
soft palm in his forearm where it had rested a thousand times before, he smiled
at her as if he were a giddy young squire. He simply couldn't stop himself.
William
snorted. "God's Teeth, le Bec. I do not ever think I have seen you smile
for such an extended period of time. Did you hurt yourself, man?"
Richmond
cursed himself for being so indiscreet. He hadn't meant to react so openly to
her but, God's Teeth, she was impossible to ignore. Ever since he had returned
yesterday, it was as if the separation had somehow fortified his feelings for
her a thousand fold. His smile broadened and he patted Arissa's hand as
neutrally as he could.
"I
am sorry, William,” he said without taking his eyes off her. “I forgot myself.
How could I gaze into this face and not smile?"
Arissa
flushed a lovely shade of pink, lowering her eyes as her guests drew closer.
She would have sold her soul to the Devil for the look in Richmond’s eyes to
have been a reflection of her own adoration. Her small, tapered fingers found
their way around his gloved hand, fingers that were as thick as three of hers
combined. There was no mistaking his response; leather-clad fingers that had wielded
a sword for Henry in battle clutched at her, tightly.
Arissa
nearly gasped with his instant response. Instinctively, her fingers curled
tighter. So did his. The de Rydals were drawing closer, but she was not paying
them any mind. All that mattered was Richmond's powerful grasp, igniting a
raging wild fire that was surging through her veins and causing her chest to
ache.
A
fatherly response
,
she told herself giddily.
He’s simply responding to the young girl He’s always
known, the young girl who has always sought comfort from her father's powerful
friend... a fatherly response!
Her
eyes came to rest on their two hands, intertwined, touching. Remembering how
the same hand had clutched her hair so tenderly the day before. Her eyes
trailed up his arm, so thick and powerful. Arms that had made her feel safe and
protected since she had been a child. Shoulders so broad that he could barely
fit through a door without turning sideways. A mail-clad neck she had wrapped
her arms about innumerable times.
Then
there were his eyes. She did not realize how long she had been gazing into his
beautiful eyes. Furthermore, she had no concept of how long he had been staring
at her either. She'd been studying him for an endless amount of time when,
suddenly, it occurred to her that he was doing the same. They were looking at
each other.
"You
look magnificent this day, my lady," his voice came as a growl, words only
she could hear.
Her
cheeks flushed as she received his approval. "Thank you, Richmond,"
she whispered.
He
smiled, a devastating gesture that was far too rarely seen. She returned his
smile, timidly, and she felt him squeeze her hand gently.
Arissa's
hot cheeks threatened to explode. Averting her gaze was the only possible
solution, and she did so. But the small hand that was clutched within his great
one was joined by its mate. Both hands, fragile and small and soft, lost
themselves within the great tight cave of his armor-bound hand.
Ovid
de Rydal, a large man with bushy red hair, practically fell from the wagon as a
servant tried to help him down. He was far too obese to ride, straightening a
tunic that was large enough to cover an entire bed. His wife, the Lady
Margaret, was nearly as rotund and a head taller. Having borne eleven children,
she wore her plump stature like a badge of honor.
The
majority of the de Rydal brood had accompanied their parents, with the
exception of the five daughters that were married. Ovid de Rydal was so eager
to be rid of his female children that he had begun marrying them off at twelve
years of age and the most recent bride, married to a poor knight more than
twice her age, was three weeks past her eleventh birthday. When Regine had
learned of Tessa de Rydal's marriage, she had raged for nearly a week.
Bartholomew
was standing next to his sister. He leaned toward Arissa. "I would wager
that Ovid the Blob proposes to marry off his ten year old daughter Mary before
the day is out."
Richmond
heard the comment and tilted his head in Bartholomew’s direction, his eyes
still riveted to the de Rydal party. "I shall cover you on that wager,
Bart. A solid gold piece says your father has you married off by
tomorrow."
Bartholomew
appeared incensed. "An outrageous statement, sir. I shall not marry a
ten-year-old wench, and I do not care how wealthy her father is!"
Richmond
cocked an eyebrow as Arissa grinned. "I see that you do not meet my wager.
Am I to understand that you agree with me?"
Bartholomew
scowled, returning his attention to the group before him. In his most menacing,
evil voice, he began to recite.
"'Perseus
washed his hands, bloody from his victory over the monster, in the sea. So that
the hard sand should not damage the snake-bearing head he made the ground soft
with leaves and branches that grow beneath the sea's surface, and on these he
placed the head of Medusa.'"
Arissa
giggled uncontrollably as the corners of Richmond's mouth twitched. "She’s
not Medusa, Bart." Richmond said.
Bart
snorted, cocking a most determined eyebrow. "I shall fight the entire
Titan realm before I shall be forced into matrimony," he cast a disdainful
glance at the de Rydal clan. "And, from the appearance of things, the
monsters have arrived in droves."
Arissa
was shaking with mirth, trying desperately to control her giggles as Lord de
Rydal and his wife approached. William thrust himself forward to meet his
guests, with Bartholomew in close pursuit.
Arissa
and Richmond moved to follow. Arissa was having a good deal of success in
calming her snickers until Bartholomew cast her a wild-eyed glance when Lady
Margaret fixed him with a hungry gaze. Immediately, she was off on another
gale.
"Calm
yourself, kitten," Richmond's breath was hot against her ear. "Lady
de Rydal would probably not hesitate to take a switch to your lovely bottom if
she catches wind of your fit."
She
swallowed her giggles, fixing Richmond in the eye. "But you are my protector.
Surely you would defend me."
He
feigned a wary look. "Not for certain. She would probably blister me,
too."
Arissa's
giggles returned, only they were far calmer as she and Richmond gazed warmly at
each other. The giggling moment eased as Arissa finally spoke. "I am.... I
am glad your back, Richmond. I have missed you."
William
addressed her and she was forced to turn away from Richmond, releasing her grip
as she moved forward to greet the de Rydals. Richmond could do naught but stare
at her; the silken hair cascading to her buttocks, the magnificent sway of her
backside when she walked. Dear God... she'd missed him.
She’s
told you that before
,
his inner self reminded him sternly.
She’s told you that countless times.
Why should this time be any different
? He continued to gaze at Arissa as
she politely greeted Ovid de Rydal, wondering why her declaration of longing
was unlike all the rest. Then, it hit him... there had been something in her
eyes. He knew he had not imagined it.
A
loud voice jolted Richmond from his thoughts. William was extending his hand in
his direction, motioning him forward. Obediently, Richmond joined the de Lohr
ranks. There were so many people crowded around Arissa that he was only able to
take position behind her.
Inadvertently,
he brushed against her and she whirled to him, startled. He discreetly moved to
step away until, much to his surprise, she pressed against him as if she were
inexplicably afraid. Her body, soft and supple and young, scorched his flesh
though layers of material and mail. He just stood there and absorbed it.