“Most likely something smelly,” she said quietly, attempting to ease her own nerves. “Always something smelly.”
Richmond smiled. His smiles were rare; in fact, her father had once accused him of having a face of stone. Yet whenever he and Arissa were together, the gesture came freely and warmly.
“As long as it eases your pain, you should not mind the smell,” he leaned against the warming hearth, crossing his armsover his broad chest. After a moment, his smile faded. “What is this I hear that you have suffered from the cough?”
She looked down at her hands. “Only twice. ’Tis not unusual when the weather gets colder.”
“Nay, it is not unusual, but you have a talent for inviting illness where there should be none. I do not want to hear of you roaming about the forest after a fresh rain in search of blossoms. The next I discover you have allowed your willful streak to control your common sense, I shall take my hand to your backside.”
Her eyes came up to him and she cocked a dramatically arched brow. “If you can catch me, my lord.”
“I can catch you.”
A smile danced on her lips. “I seem to remember a knight chasing after three young girls because one of them had stolen from the buttery. I seem to also recall said knight being out-run by much faster, much younger ladies.”
“I was not expending much of an effort.”
“You were running so hard that your face was purple.”
“Untrue. And how dare you criticize my age.”
“I did not criticize your age. I simply stated a fact. Anyone is young compared to you.”
“Is that so? My, you have grown mouthy and bold as your birthday approaches. I suppose you believe that the special day prohibits me from punishing you for your insolence.”
“Absolutely. You would not dare strike the object of celebration.”
He grinned. So did she. Silly, warm, fluid emotions filled the room; he was terrified that she would be able to read his mind. And she was afraid that he would be able to read hers.
Swallowing hard, Arissa lowered her gaze; her cheeks were beginning to flush brightly. “How was London, my lord?”
“Busy enough,” he said vaguely. “But I am more concerned with this celebration on the morrow. Far too many obnoxious people for my taste. The list of guests reads like a damnable wedding.”
Her head came up sharply, the inevitable flooding her mind;I wish it was our wedding, my love.But there would never be a wedding for them. She was leaving for Whitby, and he would continue on with his life. Which meant, inescapably, marriage. Certainly a man of Richmond’s status needed a wife and heirs.
She would not be that wife. To think of him touching another woman, plying her with soft kisses, speaking fondly to her with words only Arissa should be hearing….
A dagger of pain pierced her heart and she visibly winced, lowering her gaze so that he could not read her agony. Anguish of the worst sort built within her chest as it had earlier in the day in Mossy’s sanctuary. She had been able to escape him then. She could not escape him now.
“What is wrong, kitten?” he asked softly.
Kitten.He had always called her kitten, from the recollection of her earliest memories. He had told her once that she had sounded much like a kitten when she had been a babe, and somehow the term stuck with her, even into adulthood. Only from Richmond would she hear the tender, childish expression. She was not a child anymore.
“N-nothing,” she swallowed, fighting off the tears.
To her dismay, he knelt in front of her. His proximity, his presence, was nearly too much to bear. She attempted to turn away from him, to protect herself from her foolish emotions, but he braced his arms on either side of the chair and refused to allow her to move.
“You are lying,” he said gently. “Does your arm hurt so?”
An escape!“Aye, it stings,” she said, grateful that he had given her an excuse for her tears. “And…. and it will probably scar.”
His fingers touched her skin and she gasped, bolts of lightning surging through her limbs and rendering her entire body weak and aching. He drew his hand away in alarm, his gaze inquisitive.
“I did not touch the burns, Arissa.”
She was shaking terribly. Lacking any control whatsoever, her eyes met with his wise gaze, silently beseeching him to leave her before her composure evaporated. But he was not listening to her silent pleas; his beautiful eyes were open and honest. Immediately, the tears came.
He began wiping tears away before he could stop himself. “Oh, Riss, what’s wrong? Has something terrible occurred while I have been away? Something you are greatly troubled over, or…?”
