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 or exploitation. Or her mother’s husband may still be int
erested 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?”
“The Lady Cecily Percy de Clare.”
Gavan simply stared at him as the name sank deep. Each revelation seemed to be greater than the previous and, suddenly, his eyes widened to the point of popping from his skull. “Hotspur’s sister!”
Richmond nodded weakly, pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending ache. “And if I refuse, Hotspur will be insulted, not to mention the fact that our king will probably string me up by my thumbs,” his hand came down, slapping against his massive thigh. “This is an added element that is not only unwanted, it is beyond belief. I risk offending both factions by my refusal.”
“And if you offend our king, he will not be inclined to grant your petition for Arissa,” Gavan supplied softly, his shock numbing him to any further emotion. “God’s Teeth, Richmond, you certainly know how to get yourself into trouble.”
Richmond smiled; a thin, ironic gesture. “’Twould seem so. Our king believes he’s doing me a favor by wedding me to Northumberland’s daughter, a powerful position by any account, and I will not fault him his generosity. In addition, he’s also making a political match by pledging his most loyal knight to fortify an alliance that has never been particularly robust. He’s strengthening the bonds, and I cannot fault him for that, either.”
Gavan did not say anything for a moment as the gravity of the circumstance settled. As the fire in the hearth died and the orange sun cast its final light over the landscape, he turned to Richmond.
“What do you plan to do?”
Richmond, the cut above his eye swollen and his inflamed nose aching, gave a laborious sigh. “Above all else, I will marry Arissa. This entire mess pales in comparison to my love for her.”
“Then it must be a great, great love,” Gavan murmured. The familiar impish smile made a weak comeback as he gazed at his friend. “I am not sure if I should stand by your side or run for my life.”
Richmond cracked a faint smile. “If I were you, I would plead complete ignorance of the entire situation. But for you, that will not be a difficult stretch.”
Gavan laughed softly, his demeanor returning. “I shall disregard that remark, my lord. You cannot afford to insult those who would support your cause.”
Richmond’s smile faded. “You are a favorite of our king, Gavan. That could change should the situation grow ugly,” he paused a pensive moment, scratching his head in a nervous gesture as he struggled to compose riotous thoughts. After a brief lull, blue eyes focused upon those of deep, earnest brown. “Now that you are completely aware of my situation, my friend, I would hear your advice on the matter. And do not think to spare me.”
Gavan gazed at Richmond for a long moment, his mirth fading as well. “Will you actually listen to my reasoning or ignore me as you always do?”
“I shall listen.”
Gavan could read the desperation in Richmond’s expression and he pondered the predicament as evenly as he was able. After a moment, he spoke with gentle urgency.
“When you reach London, I would suggest that you present your petition for Arissa before any other business can be conducted. Bargain if you must in order to gain Henry’s cooperation; your service in return for her hand, for example. Anything to gain an edge. You have got to show the king that you are well aware of your worth; with Hotspur bordering on rebellion, Henry needs you as much as you need him. Do not underplay your value to the man. Use it.”
It was a passionate, entirely insightful statement. Richmond had calmed somewhat, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. “How astute, Gavan. And how political.”
Gavan met his gaze steadily. “I know that Henry relies on you tremendously. He will not deny you if you play the game, Richmond. You have always been good at games.”
“Arissa is not a game.”
“Aye, she’s. She’s a part of the most powerful game in the world. It’s called Politics.”
“And you are suggesting that I blackmail Henry with the threat of withdrawing my service if he does not grant my demand?”
“Exactly.”
“But I am sworn to him. I have pledged my loyalty. I cannot simply retract my vow as one would break a simple promise.”
Gavan crossed his thick arms, his rich brown eyes glittering. “Think for a moment, Richmond. What would happen if you threatened to leave his service? If he threw you in the vault, he would be depriving himself of your service at his own hand and that, my friend, would weaken his stand against the Welsh tremendously. If, in fact, Hotspur’s offense at Henry’s lack of faith forces him to side with Glendower, the king needs you desperately and you must be prepared to use that to your advantage.”
Richmond sighed weakly, glancing to the smoldering embers of parchment. Gavan could sense his indecision, his pain, and he sought to accomplish the final reasoning that would propel Richmond from the realm of indecision.
“All of your life you have bowed to the man. You have been his greatest strength, his most obedient knight, willing to do anything for his cause. You obviously proved that the day you accepted Arissa’s guardianship. Now it is time for Henry to pay you your due. Demand that he show you as much loyalty as you have shown him.”
Richmond stared at the distant flames, his pensive expression unreadable. Gavan continued to watch him, riveted to his face, waiting for an indication alluding to his inner thoughts. After a moment, Richmond’s eyes came away from the crackling fire, the news of the day consuming his thoughts. The Welsh, Hotspur, his betrothal, Gavan’s advice…. God’s Teeth, it was almost too much to bear.
He had no choice but to accept the world in which he had chosen to exist. But foremost above the swirling depths of his disturbing reflections, one idea reigned supreme and he found himself calming with the mere memory of her face. How he needed that calm.
“She’s furious with me, you know,” he muttered.
“Who?”
“Arissa.”
Gavan’s brow furrowed. “What did you do
this time?”
With a heavy sigh, Richmond spilled out the entire story and then some.
*
Arissa could hear the sounds of laughter and music wafting on the chill night air. Clouds were beginning to gather in the midnight blue sky, indicative of an approaching storm. The bailey below her window was filled with soldiers on their rounds, men on horseback and still others with large wolfhounds. As the party was in full swing in the cavernous expanse of Lambourn’s gallery, the guest of honor was nowhere to be seen.
Lady Maude had pleaded for twenty minutes for Arissa to come downstairs and take her rightful place. Arissa had stubbornly refused, insisting that her stomach was terribly upset and she would not embarrass herself by becoming ill in front of her guests. Actually, it was not far from the truth; her stomach was twisting with more emotion than she ever thought possible and it was difficult to refrain from asking of Regine’s fate.
Knowing her mother to be the consummate worrier, however, she suspected that if the woman had any knowledge of Regine’s trouble, she would not have been pleading with Arissa to join her own party in lieu of shielding her baby from the coming wrath.
Since Maude was obviously ignorant to her youngest daughter’s problems, Arissa was led to believe that her father was shouldering the shame entirely. But she refrained from asking about her father, too. She simply wanted to be left alone to wallow in her misery.
She was, however, able to convince her mother to leave with the assurance that she would rest for the time being in the hope of improving her illness. Promising her mother that she would try to join the celebration later, Maude was able to rejoin her guests with the anticipation of Arissa’s future company when, in fact, Arissa had no intention of joining the party Richmond was in the process of ruining.
Her frustration and misery had not abated since he had left with Regine. If anything, it had deepened. She simply could not believe that he had been so cruel, so unfeeling and insensitive toward her needs. He had hurt her deeply and had not been the least bit concerned with his actions.