Penelope
leaned back on her arms, eyeing her raven-haired friend. "I would wager to
say I have never seen a more handsome man. Rich brown hair, bright blue eyes,
and a smile that makes me swoon simply to think on it. And, of course, being as
tall as the sky certainly doesn't hurt," she winked at Emma. "Aye, I
would say he was the image of a god. Only a god would be so fortunate."
Arissa
did not reply; she did not want to think on Richmond le Bec. She'd spent the
past several months attempting to forget him and a part of her hoped he would
not come to the celebration on the morrow. But a major portion of her whispered
desperate prayers that he would make an appearance, if only so she could gaze
into his amazing face one last time before she was shut away from the world.
Even
as she pledged to distance the man in hopes of complete abandonment, she knew
it was a foolish venture. She had grown up living on the sight of Richmond,
sustaining herself on his rich baritone voice and anticipating the moments when
he would turn his incredible blue eyes on her fondly. Six years, eight years,
twelve years old... she couldn't remember when Richmond le Bec hadn't been an
integral part of her daily existence. She couldn't remember when she hadn't
loved him.
As
Arissa lost herself in thoughts of Richmond le Bec, a lanky, aged knight came
marching across the dead winter grass. His lined face was grim.
"Have
you no idea what time it is?" he demanded.
The
three women jumped. Penelope was startled into a sitting position, her eyes
wide at the man.
"It's...
it's, uh...," she turned helplessly to Arissa and Emma, who were quickly
regaining their feet.
"It's
time for the nooning meal," the knight said sternly, resting his large
fists on his hips. "God's Truth, Penelope, if I hadn't fathered you
myself, I would swear you'd been born without a brain."
Penelope
rose to her feet, her gaze sheepish. "We lost track of time."
He
rolled his eyes, beseeching the gods for patience. "And if I hear that
excuse one more time, I swear I shall do something drastic to the lot of
you," he pointed a gloved finger at the fortress. "Inside. Now."
Penelope
brushed off her surcoat and scampered past her father. Emma followed in close
pursuit, while only Arissa seemed unfazed by the knight's anger. She smiled
pleasantly at him.
"Good
day to you, Sir Carlton," she said, trying to ease his fury. "How
goes the preparations for my party?"
Sir
Carlton de Long gazed at his little mistress, wondering how his daughter was
going to survive when the Lady Arissa left to join the cloister next month. The
two had been inseparable since three years of age, long enough to form an
unbreakable attachment. He, too, would miss her terribly. She was a bright,
wonderful bit of sunshine.
"Running
smoothly, my lady," he offered her the customary elbow. Arissa took his
arm and he began to lead her towards the keep. "Your mother has gone to
great lengths to make it the grandest celebration in these parts for years to
come."
Several
feet ahead of them, Penelope and Emma walked arm in arm, casting baleful
glances at Arissa. With her sweet nature, men were naturally eating out her
hand and her companions were understandably jealous of her talent; they always
managed to find trouble whereas Arissa seemed to possess the power to soothe
the savage beast.
Arissa
was acutely aware of their pouting looks and stuck her tongue out at them,
twice, while Carlton's attention was diverted. The more she antagonized them,
the angrier they became and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. By the time
they reached the massive entrance to the bailey, Penelope and Emma were
prepared to throttle her and Arissa braced herself for the barrage of temperamental
insults.
But
the revenge of Emma and Penelope would have to wait; high atop the battlements,
shouts abound from the sentries, distracting the women. All straining ears and
eyes, they turned their attention to the commotion at hand.
A
party was swiftly approaching, it was announced, bearing Henry's banners of
lions and leopards. Carlton, still clutching Arissa, stared up at the sentries
as if he had not understood their words.
"Henry
is approaching?" he demanded for clarification.
The
sentries, hawk-eyed and seasoned, peered sharply at the southern horizon.
Arissa wait with baited breath for their reply, hardly aware when Penelope and
Emma joined her.
"Nay,
my lord," one of the men finally shouted down to them. "Richmond le
Bec!"
Richmond.
Arissa's heart leapt into her
throat; she must have swayed with shock, for she could feel Penelope's hand
against her back in a steadying gesture. Carlton, oblivious to her surprise,
turned to the three young ladies with a wide grin.
"How
grand! Lord William will be pleased indeed," he brushed past the women,
having apparently forgotten why he had been escorting them to the castle in the
first place.
Arissa
heard his footfalls fade; her focus was riveted to the road that led from
Lambourn into the green countryside beyond. In the distance, she could decipher
a tiny group, black figures flying minuscule banners.
Around
her, the bailey was swarming with soldiers and servants in preparation for le
Bec's mighty column. But Arissa was completely ignorant of the activity; all
that mattered was Richmond's imminent approach, drawing closer with each
passing moment. She hadn't seen him in nearly six months; she giddily wondered
if he had changed. She couldn't imagine that he was any different, or that she
would love him any less.
Arissa
had always loved him; a wasted effort, but one she could not control. With the
impending circumstance of the cloister lingering in her mind, she wondered how
she was ever going to forget the man. She couldn't remember ever being without
him.... how was she supposed to cleave all memory, all feeling, as if she were
severing a limb?
Staring
at the advancing party, she knew there was no other choice but to amputate
quickly. She had to sever him, all of him, and do it before she lost her nerve.
'Twould be less painful if she were to do it rapidly... but how?
Unsteadily,
she turned away from the half-open portcullis and began to wander back toward
the castle. How indeed? Unaware of Penelope and Emma's shadowing presence, she
began to plan exactly how to rid herself of the mighty Richmond le Bec. For the
sake of her mental facilities, she had no other choice. She simply couldn't
spend the rest of her life fantasizing over the object of a young maiden's
adoration.
Be
firm
, she told
herself forcefully.
No unsolicited smiles, speak to him only if necessary.
Remain polite but aloof. And, by all means, no games!
Richmond had a
fondness for games and would spend hours with Arissa and her sister, Regine,
playing cards or indulging in a round of Hot Cockles. He made her love him all
the more with his gentle smile and deep laughter when he allowed her and Regine
to best him.
Still
immersed in her thoughts, she was hardly aware when the massive structure of
Lambourn allowed her to pass deep into the safety of its innards. Penelope's
mother, the Lady Maxine, met the three young ladies in the foyer.
"The
nooning meal will not wait," she clapped her hands sharply and beckoned to
her daughter and friends. "In the hall, ladies."
"Richmond
le Bec is approaching," Penelope told her mother. "Would it not be
polite to wait for him?"
"Lord
William is already partaking of the meal. Richmond will be welcome when he
arrives," Maxine turned her gaze to Arissa. "My lady, your mother
wishes for you to greet Sir Richmond in her stead. She’s indisposed at the
moment and asks that you take him in hand."
Arissa
swallowed hard, fighting the urge to deny the request. How could she forget him
if she were forced to greet him? She did not respond immediately and Lady
Maxine peered closely at her.
"Are
you feeling well, my lady? You look rather pale."
Arissa
swallowed again. "I.... nay, I am not feeling at all well. Maxine, would
you please greet Richmond in my stead? I must.... rest."
Maxine
did not hesitate; Arissa's delicate health was well-known and not to be trifled
with. "Of course, my lady. We cannot have the guest of honor ill at her
own party. Go and rest; I shall tend to Sir Richmond."
Arissa
did not linger. She moved past Penelope and Emma, making a break for the flight
of stairs that led to the second floor of the castle. By the time she hit the
second step, she was running.
Anything
to put distance between her confusion and Richmond.
***
Seated
atop a magnificent coal-hued charger, Sir Richmond le Bec drank in the sight of
Lambourn castle. A well-designed Norman bastion, he felt as if he were coming
home again. God only knew, he'd spent a good portion of his adult life within
the old walls.
As
the edifice loomed closer, he couldn't help but feel a stab of sorrow. 'Twould
most likely be his last visit for a very long time and he was grieved by the
thought. For eighteen years Lambourn had been a part of his existence, always
on his thoughts, always in his prayers. For eighteen years he had been it had
been a physical part of him as much as an arm or a leg or a lung.
But
that time was drawing to a close. His mission, entrusted to him eighteen years
ago, was coming to a conclusion as the New Year rapidly approached. He honestly
did not know how he was going to continue with his existence once Lambourn had
faded into the recesses of his mind; all of this, the keep, its occupants, its
day-to-day continuance, was a portion of his soul.
The
bridge was down, welcoming him warmly and sharpening his sense of sorrow.
Several soldiers called out to him as he entered the massive bailey, but he did
not respond. He was used to the adoration, the respect. Forcing his gloomy
thoughts aside, he dismounted his snappish charger and was immediately met by
the Lady Maxine de Long.
"My
lord Richmond," she dipped in a practiced curtsy. "We are blessed
once again with your presence."
He
passed a rapid gaze over Lady Maude de Lohr's woman. "'Tis good to be
back. Where's William?"
"Lord
de Lohr is in the gallery involved in the nooning meal," Maxine replied.
"He commands you to join him immediately."
Richmond
nodded absently, moving to his steed and unfastening his saddlebags before the
groom led the animal away. "I have been gone for quite some time. I trust
all has been well."
"For
the most part, my lord," Maxine nodded. "Lord William and Lady Maude
have enjoyed good health, as have Lady Regine and Master Bartholomew."
He
focused on her for the first time. "What of Lady Arissa?"
"She’s
suffered two rather severe bouts with the cough," Maxine replied, offering
a helpless shrug. "She’s quite fond of the outdoors, as you know. She
managed to catch the chill more than once and it settled in her chest."
Richmond
felt himself softening, hoping his change in demeanor was not obvious.
"'Tis of no surprise. She insists on sticking to the woods to collect her
silly flowers. I cannot count the times I have nearly frozen solid acting as
her escort on such occasions. One of these days, she’s going to catch her
death."
"That
is what the physic seems to think," Maxine replied. "He’s told Lady
Maude that Arissa's lungs are terribly weakened. She may not be fortunate
enough to recover the next time."
Richmond
stared at her a moment. Then, mayhap a bit more subdued, he focused on the
familiar castle once again. "William is expecting me," he said
quietly.
Maxine
watched him stroll across the compound. Being female, it was only natural that
she respond to Richmond le Bec's physical qualities; the man was positively
striking. To gaze upon his male beauty was to experience a giddy fluttering of
the heart; being married did not mean she was immune. She, too, appreciated a
fine-looking man.
***
William
de Lohr, a massive man of rotund girth, was well into his trencher by the time
Richmond arrived. He greeted his friend warmly and pulled out a chair for him
to sit. While the servants rushed about in their eagerness to serve the great
knight, William put a meaty hand on his shoulder.
"Six
months you have been gone," he said in his typical overbearing manner.
"Six damnable months. I thought you had forgotten us."
Richmond
cocked a dark eyebrow, bringing a hunk of bread to his lips. "Hardly. I
have been with Henry, as you well know. There has been quite a bit happening in
London."
William
snorted, giving Richmond a shake so that the bread missed his mouth and ended
up scraping his cheek. "I know, I know. The damn Welsh are increasing
their rebellious pressure. But Henry has you and young Henry Percy to defend
his holdings. Surely the threat is not terribly severe."
Richmond
brushed at the crumbs on his cheek and tried again. "Hotspur is in Wales
as we speak. God's Teeth, the man has more responsibilities than I do, if such
a thing is possible. He, nor I, needs the added burden of the growing Welsh
rebellion. I was rather hoping to retire from this madness at my age."