Great Protector (37 page)

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Authors: Kathryn le Veque

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Great Protector
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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, think. 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.

She
hadn't been aware of her furrowed brow, her distant expression. Looking to
Richmond, she simply shook her head. "'Tis nothing. I supposed I am simply
overwhelmed by all of this."

He
smiled faintly. "I must say, you are far calmer than I imagined you would
be. I am very proud of you, Riss. This cannot be easy for you."

She
shrugged. "Mayhap I am calm simply because I am so shocked. Mayhap in an
hour or two, the reality will settle and I shall become a quivering wreck.
Truthfully, so much has happened since yesterday I believe I have become numb
to it all."

His
lips drifted over her fingers tenderly. "Do not say that. I do not want
you to be numb to anything."

She
glanced at him, catching his implication and blushing furiously. "You are
incorrigible," she whispered bashfully.

His
teeth nibbled on her fingers. "Nay, lady, I am simply overcome with my
feelings for you. Pray be kind."

Her
eyes were riveted to his white teeth as they nipped her flesh, feeling bolts of
excitement surging through her veins. Were Mossy not in the room, she would
have been extremely eager for another encounter. The old man, however, dampened
her enthusiasm.

Struggling
to divert her wicked emotions, a far-flung thought came to mind. "Richmond,”
she turned to him thoughtfully, “if I am Henry's daughter, then it was he who
pledged me to Whitby?"

"Aye."

Her
brow furrowed as she pondered the information. "Then you will have to
discuss our marriage with him?"

"Aye.
Gladly."

She
paused a moment, watching his teeth on her thumb. "But if I am of royal
blood, will he allow you to marry me? As a mere knight?"

He
stopped, his eyes intense. He was amazed at how astute she was. She heard him
sigh, faint and long. "I told you it will not matter. I will marry you
with or without his consent."

"But
we were speaking of my father.... I mean, the earl when you made that
particular declaration," her gaze was suddenly soft, imploring. "You
would defy the king for my hand?"

His
stare was scorching, his expression blazing with sincerity and intent. When he
spoke, his tone was almost unnaturally commanding. "My lady, I would defy
God himself."

Outside
in the corridor, soft voices gradually became louder and Richmond stood,
knowing that The Horde had returned. He slanted Arissa a final, if not firm,
glance. "Not a word, Riss, about any of this. What we have discussed must
not go any further, at least not now."

She
nodded solemnly, a bit unsteadily. "In faith, I would not know where to
begin."

Giving
her a confident wink, he moved for the door and opened it in time to see Emma
and Lady Livia in the corridor, their arms laden with towels.

Richmond's
brows drew together. "Where are Penelope and Regine?"

"We
found them in the foyer, sobbing hysterically," Lady Livia explained.
"I was only able to understand that you required towels for Lady Arissa.
When we agreed to tend the duty, they fled to Lady Maude's solar, I
believe."

"God's
Teeth," Richmond muttered, passing a glance at Mossy. "Regine is
going to tell her mother before I have had the chance."

"Waste
no time," Mossy waved him on. "We shall take good care of
Arissa."

Arissa,
her wide eyes filled with new tears of grief as she was reminded of her
brother's mortal injury, sat huddled in the tub. Knowing she would be well
tended, Richmond decided to make his way to Maude's solar to control the damage
Regine had undoubtedly inflicted as best he could. As long as Arissa was safe
and whole, he was better able to concentrate on more immediate matters.

"Very
well," he grumbled, collecting his helm. "I shall return later to see
how my lady fares."

Emma
and her mother were already into the room, busying themselves eagerly. "She
will be fine, my lord," Lady Livia said, smiling fondly at Arissa.

Leaving
his lady to the care of others, Richmond struck out across the labyrinth of
Lambourn in search of a hysterical young girl and, he was sure, her equally
hysterical mother.

 

***

 

Lady
Maude had swooned the moment she had heard of her son's impending death and,
with few exceptions, had yet to become fully lucid. Penelope and Lady Maxine,
dealing with the death of Carlton, had taken to their chambers in the throes of
grief. While Emma remained with Arissa, Regine and Lady Livia had retreated to
Lady Maude's bower to offer their comfort.

Twice
already, Lady Maude had pleaded for a dagger to end her miserable life as Mossy
returned to his sanctuary to remain by Bartholomew's side until death claimed
him. In all, a chaotic situation had descended upon the inhabitants of Lambourn
and Richmond was at his wit's end trying his best to minimize the damage. He
seemed to be the only sane person left.

As
dusk drew nigh, Daniel and Gavan managed to chase away the last remnants of de
Rydal's army. Immediately, the various houses who had been fearfully residing
within the walls of Lambourn packed their belongings and set out for home.

It
did not seem to matter that the rain was fiercer than before, or that traveling
at night was foolish and dangerous. The only factor of concern was leaving the
battered but relatively intact bastion of Lambourn. Indeed, the Lady Arissa de
Lohr's party had been an affair to remember and in parting, her guests managed
to exhale a sharp sigh of relief. Far too much excitement and surprise for
their tastes.

As
the bailey vacated the last noble visitors, William, Gavan, Daniel and Richmond
settled wearily in the earl's small solar for a debriefing conference. The
talks, however, were limited to Gavan, Daniel and Richmond; since learning of
his son's mortal wound, William had been a numbed soul, clouded with grief.

The
earl sat in his great carved chair, unfeeling and unblinking, drinking himself
ill and staring into the depths of space as the world around him went along its
way. It was not the mere fact that his son was dying; more than that, it was
the fact that Lambourn was losing her heir. An eccentric heir was better than
none at all as the de Lohr legacy loomed towards extinction.

After
nearly an hour of small, weary talk and basic information, Mossy joined the group
to inform them that Bartholomew was still hovering one step above death. Upon
delivering the news to the catatonic earl, the old man wearily took a seat and
helped himself to a large chalice of wine. Richmond eyed the aged crone, glad
for the silent support as he prepared to delve into the true core of the
situation.

"Although
there is no doubt that Ovid attacked Lambourn in retaliation for Tad's ambush,
of which I am completely innocent, you should also know that something far more
concerning has happened."

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