“Where are you taking me?” she asked quietly.
His grip tightened around her fingers. “Whitby.”
Whitby. A month ahead of schedule. She had been looking forward to spending the next thirty-one days with Richmond, exploring and discovering, creating memories to lock deep into her heart that she could draw upon when she was forced into the lonely isolation of the abbey. She had been counting on those recollections to preserve her sanity.
But Richmond had decided to alter that schedule. She did not want to go to Whitby; not now, not ever. The tears that had so recently fled were back with a vengeance, and she sobbed softly into her handkerchief.
Richmond squeezed her hand tightly. “Do not cry, kitten. You shall be perfectly safe there while I attend to necessary duties. I will not be long, I promise. Just long enough to plead for your hand.”
Her sobbing grew louder, more hysterical. “But…. I do-on’t want to go. I-I shall be away from you for C-Christmas, Richmond. Do not take me t-there, not now!”
He tugged on her hand, hard enough to cause her to lurch to her feet. Before she realized it, he was grasping her about the waist and placing her in front of him in the saddle. Adjusting the oiled cloth to keep her dry, he spurred his charger forward.
Arissa continued to sob miserably as his thick arm clutched her tightly. Faceplate raised, he leaned close to her ear. “I do not want to take you there, you know that. But I have virtually no choice in the matter.”
She sniffled and sobbed. “N-not there! D-Do you have friends we could stay with? O-Or you could t-take me to Windsor. I am sure the k-king would not mind.”
He did not say anything for a moment and she could feel his hot breath against her ear. Certainly it would not be a keen idea for her to be roving the halls of Windsor for several good reasons; Henry would not want to be reminded at every turn of a love gone by, of the painful indiscretions that had plagued a young noble. Furthermore, Richmond most likely would be kept apart from her out of pure protocol. He was, after all, a mere knight. And she was of royal blood.
His heart sank when he realized Arissa had no true home, no place to seek refuge in her time of need. There was nowhere for her to go. Except Whitby.
“That would not be wise, Riss,” he murmured softly. “There is nowhere for you to go but the abbey.”
She wept into her hand. “D-Do not leave me there, Richmond. Please do not leave me there alone.”
He held her tightly. “I have no choice, kitten.”
“Then I w-want to go home,” she sobbed pathetically. “I want to go back to L-Lambourn.”
His jaw ticked faintly as he remembered William’s words, harsh threats spoken in the midst of agonizing grief. “You cannot go home. You cannot ever go home.”
She continued to sob and cough, breaking his heart with her sorrow. Although he had numerous friends scattered throughout the country, he felt most comfortable for her safety and health tucked away in the Yorkshire abbey. Far away from Owen and far away from Henry’s enemies who were clearly aware of her existence. Whereas Arissa could be wrested from the walls of a breached fortress, or even the walls of Windsor for that matter, those who sought to do her harm would think twice before violating the haven of an abbey.
“Listen to me, love,” he squeezed her gently, attempting to distract her from her misery. “I promise we shall take our time traveling to Whitby. We shall make an adventure of it; stopping at every inn that captures your fancy, purchasing sweets and pretty things. We shall have a wonderful time doing whatever our moods dictate. Will that be acceptable?”
She ran a finger under her nose, thinking on his offer a moment. “T-The nuns will make me give up the pretty things we purchase.”
He shrugged, attempting to keep his manner light in the hope that she would follow suit. If she noted his unconcerned attitude towards the unknown amount of time to be spent at Whitby, mayhap she would cease to view the necessary separation as a death sentence.
“I shall keep them safely for you,” he assured her. “I have also had in mind to build my own keep; mayhap we shall discover a suitable piece of land as we travel northward. We shall pass through portions of lovely country and I am sure we can choose a fitting location. I will depend upon you to assist me in this most important duty.”
She sniffled again, her tears fading as a faint excitement took hold. “You want me to help you?”
“Absolutely. It will be your keep too, will it not?”
She thought a moment; certainly it would be her keep, too. The place where she and Richmond would spend the rest of their lives, basking in a love that had existed since the day she was born. She wiped at her nose yet again, turning to look at him in the rain.
“M-Mayhap we can build it on a hill, overlooking the land,” she said helpfully. “Mayhap we can even build it overlooking a river; a huge grand place with hundreds of rooms for all of the children we will have.”
His smile faded, thinking on Mossy’s words. Were she to conceive, it could kill her. Gazing into the pale green eyes, he tried not to let his depression show. “I doubt we could have enough children to fill one hundred rooms,” he said softly. “In any event, you will help me select a suitable site for our keep. Agreed?”
Our keep. Her tears were forgotten as he successfully diverted her grief and she smiled hopefully. “Can I name our fortress?”
“Certainly you can,” he pulled the oiled tarp tighter about her slender body as the rain increased, turning her away from the direction of the wind. “Did you have a name in mind?”
She sighed, feeling her fatigue as her emotions settled. “Not yet. But I will spend my days contemplating a list of names for your approval.”
“And I shall look forward to it.” Thankful his attempt to calm her had succeeded, Richmond spurred his destrier into a jaunty canter to the front of the column. Gavan was riding alone at the head, and he turned to look at Richmond and Arissa as they rode up. One look at the lady’s pleasant expression and he knew that all was right in the world once again.
“Good to see you again, my lady,” he raised his visor, smiling.
Richmond cut in before Arissa could reply. “There is a fork in the road about a mile ahead. Veer to the right.”
Gavan nodded, still grinning at Arissa. “Aye, my lord. We are bound for Whitby.”
Arissa was no longer concerned for her Yorkshire destination as she heard Gavan repeat Richmond’s orders. Instead, she smiled at the younger knight. “We are going to select a parcel of land to build on,” she informed him proudly. “Richmond said that I could name our keep.”
Gavan bobbed his head in approval. “A wise decision. Women are much better with names than men.”
“I disagree,” Richmond said. “Men select names worthy of their glory, while women tend to choose titles of home and hearth.”
Arissa cocked an eyebrow. “Are you saying, in effect, that I would saddle your glorious keep with a name unworthy of your veneration?”
“Not at all. But you must take my magnificent reputation into account when you make your selection.”
Her eyes twinkled at Gavan as she replied to Richmond’s arrogant statement. “I have chosen a name already. We shall call our splendid new fortress Mother’s Lap.”
Richmond winced as Gavan laughed uproariously. “She knows you well, Richmond,” Gavan snorted. “Why not call it Fool’s Lair?”
“With you lingering within the walls, that particular name would be fitting,” Richmond retorted, returning his focus to Arissa. “As much as I would like to consider your title for our fortress, I must ask that you amend your choice. Surely there are other names that can be suggested.”
She smiled wearily, heavy-lidded as a result of her crying jag and the sway of the horse. “I suppose I can think of something else, if I must.”
Richmond pulled her closer, wrapping the oiled tarp more tightly about her body as the wind kicked up. “How gracious, my lady.”
The rain increased substant
ially as bolts of lightning began to light up the sky. Cradled against Richmond, Arissa started in response to the addition of the lightning, but Richmond casually glanced into the pounding night sky as if the element was of little concern.
“We will stop for the night to remove Arissa from this harsh climate,” he said to Gavan. “Oxford is another two hours.”
Gavan nodded, watching a vicious streak of lightning carve a path through the black clouds. “Agreed. In fact, I shall send a couple of soldiers ahead to secure a room at a local inn. She should not be exposed to this weather any longer than necessary.”
“Absolutely not,” Richmond agreed. “In fact, have the soldiers secure two rooms.”
Gavan cast him a glance. “One for you? Since when do you sleep in a warm bed while I suffer in the rain?”
Richmond’s gaze was steady. “Where I sleep, my second sleeps. The second room is for you.”
Gavan, however, still was not grasping his meaning. “Me? I am to sleep in a warm bed while you….” suddenly, he comprehended exactly what he had been told and a shadow of a grin crossed his lips. “Thank you, my lord. You are most generous.”
Arissa, however, had yet to comprehend the gist of it. Her lovely brow furrowed and she sniffled into her damp handkerchief. “If Gavan has one room and I have the other, where are you going to sleep?”
Richmond cocked an eyebrow, lowering his visor as he gazed at the road beyond. “Not with Gavan.”
*
Oxford was a bustling city situated fifteen miles north and east of Lambourn. The rain continued to pour mercilessly as the column closed in on the outskirts; fifty men, horses, a wagon, two armored knights and one drenched lady. Richmond and Gavan were met by the two soldiers they had sent ahead to procure accommodations.
“We had our pick of inns, my lord,” one man saluted Richmond sharply. “We selected The Willow and secured two rooms and a meal.”
“Excellent,” Richmond glanced over his shoulder at his men, standing in ranks under the driving rain. Beyond them, less than a quarter of a mile away, was a thick cluster of trees. Richmond gestured to the foliage. “Grimsby, have the men set up camp in those trees. The Willow is on Longwall Street, is it not?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Then you will know where to find me. Make sure the men eat before they retire; they shall need their strength.”
As the two soldiers went to do their liege’s bidding, Richmond spurred his charger forward and sent Gavan for Arissa’s trunk.
Oxford was quiet but for the occasional shouts of distant laughter emitting from one of her numerous inns. Arissa watched the small buildings and shops pass by, scrutinizing each one curiously. Except for the village of Lambourn, she’d never strayed beyond the limits of the earldom and felt a certain amount of enthusiasm as Richmond’s massive charger plodded past the bakery, a jeweler’s shop, and a silversmith. It was all new and wonderful, and her mood began to lighten with the excitement.
The Willow was the largest hostel in town, well-lit and moderately crowded. Richmond dismounted his steed, gently setting Arissa to her feet in the sticky mud. Taking her hand, he led her into the warm, hazy structure.
The smell of smoke and vomit hit Arissa like a sharp slap as she entered the establishment, causing her to catch her breath and wrinkle her nose. Richmond slanted her a gaze, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He was relatively immune to the repulsive scents of humankind, but Arissa’s delicate balance was immediately offended.
“Richmond, if our room smells like this….”
He put his arm around her protectively, his eyes searching for the innkeeper. “It will not, I promise. If it does, I shall demand that they scrub it clean until it meets with your approval.”
The proprietor of the tavern was already moving toward them, a small man with little hair. He knew a well-paying customer when he saw one.
“Welcome, my lord,” the man bowed at the waist. “A room for you and your daughter this night?”
Arissa felt as if she had been struck, a physical blow that took her breath away. Richmond did not react outwardly, but his eyes took on a most peculiar gleam. “My wife and I have already secured two rooms in your stench-cloaked establishment. The name is le Bec.”
The innkeeper’s eyes widened and he stumbled back a step as if to escape the huge man’s fury. “I…. I apologize, my lord, I meant no offense,” he stammered quickly. “Your wife is so tiny, such a perfect little female, I assumed…. pray forgive, my lord.”
Richmond’s gaze was deadly, but he allowed the infraction to pass. It would only upset Arissa if he were to punish the man for his ignorance. “Where are our rooms?”
“Up the stairs, sire, the last two doors to the right.”
Richmond, clutching Arissa against him, moved to mount the steps. “My officer will be here shortly, a massive man bearing a trunk. You will direct him to me.”
The landlord nodded eagerly. “Of course, sire. I shall send your meal to your rooms immediately.”
Richmond did not reply as he took the stairs. As they entered the dim corridor of the second floor, the acrid smells and noise seemed to fade rapidly. By the time they reached their designated rooms, the clutter from the common room was a muffled roar.
Arissa moved to open one of the doors, peering inside. Richmond opened the second door, scrutinizing the room. “Too small,” he commented, moving to the door Arissa had opened. “Ah, this will do nicely. Let Gavan struggle in the small bed. This one is more my size.”
Arissa giggled as he escorted her into the room, glancing about the small chamber with indifference. “It smells in here, too.”
He pulled the oiled cloth off her shoulders. “Would you rather sleep in the rain?”
She smiled, a devilish gesture. “Of course not. But you promised me that if our room smelled, you would order the innkeeper to scrub it until it met with my approval. Well?”
He tossed her protective cloak onto the chair. “I lied. If you do not like it here, you can sleep out in the rain with my horse. As for me, I am going to enjoy a warm bed and a hot meal.”
She tried not to grin. “Richmond le Bec, do you mean to say that you deliberately deceived me? I shall…. I shall go sleep with Gavan. His room smelled better.”
“How do you know? You did not smell it.”
“Anything is better than this.”
Richmond removed his helm, running his fingers through his damp hair. “Go then, you ungrateful wench. I shall not listen to you complain all night.”
Her grin broke through and she went to work on her cloak, removing the thick garment with the rabbit lining. Underneath, she wore a surcoat of burgundy wool, a magnificent shade against her striking coloring. Richmond cast her an appreciative glance as he removed his gauntlets. “Well? I thought you were going to go and sleep with Gavan.”
She turned to him, her glorious breasts emphasized to the extreme in the clinging wool. A gold belt graced her slender hips, accentuating her bosom further. With the high neckline and long sleeves, the picture was consuming.
She cocked an eyebrow, noting his lustful gaze. “Are you sure that is where you want me to sleep?”
“Hell, no. Come here.”
She giggled, gliding across the floor and into his arms. He kissed her deeply, fully, smiling as he listened to her whimpers and gasps of delight. But as her fingers raked through his dark hair, he pulled his lips away.
“God’s Teeth, woman, let me remove this armor before I explode,” he grunted, unfastening pieces of plate and allowing them to fall to the floor.
Arissa stood back, watching him undress with a great deal of anticipation. Down to a damp tunic, thick hose and boots, he smiled seductively at her.
“There,” he said softly. “Now, as I said. Come here.”
She cocked her head. “Aren’t you going to take all of your clothes off?”
He laughed, deep and hearty. “God’s Teeth, Riss, control your lust. I do believe I have created a wanton woman.
”
Her cheeks mottled with a faint flush and she smiled shyly. “Not at all. ’Tis just…. well, I thought…..”
“I know what you thought, my shameless little tart, as my thoughts are exactly the same. But we must wait for two reasons; one, Gavan will be here shortly with your trunk and, two, our meal will arrive at any moment.”
She averted her gaze, clasping her hands behind her back and turning away from him. “Of course. I have forgotten already.”
He continued to grin, watching her pace across the floor toward the hearth. “I promise you, kitten, the wait shall be worth it.”
She cast him a sheepish gaze, still smiling. He chuckled softly at her embarrassment as a sharp knock rattled the door. Gavan was in the doorway, Arissa’s trunk slung across his massive shoulders. He moved into the chamber, dumping the wet case onto the floor.
“God’s Blood, Richmond, what in the world did we pack that would make that thing so heavy?”
“Nothing but the necessities, as I recall,” Richmond said, shoving the trunk against the wall. Suddenly, he paused, passing the trunk a curious gaze. After a moment, he kicked it into the wall again. This time, they all heard the muffled grunt.
Gavan unsheathed his broadsword before Arissa could draw another breath, moving to take a protective stance in front of her. As Richmond unlatched the case, she strained to peer around Gavan’s massive body; she did not see anything at first, but Richmond’s stern gaze told her that he was not pleased in the least. He continued to stare into the trunk, his expression severe.
“How, may I ask, did you get in there?” he finally asked, struggling to maintain his calm.
Emma’s blond head appeared, her pale blue eyes wide at Richmond. “I…. I slipped in when you put Arissa’s trunk out in the corridor before transporting it to the wagon.”