“What are you doing?” Richmond finally asked, his voice strangely tight.
Mossy did not say anything for a moment. Then, he chuckled. “God’s Teeth. I have forgotten.” He suddenly closed his bag and flashed them a toothless smile. “Sleep with the arm exposed to the air tonight, Riss. The salve should ease the pain and there is less of a chance that the wounds will blister.”
Richmond and Arissa watched, open-mouthed, as Mossy escaped the bower as silently and as swiftly as he had entered. Richmond swore he caught a glimmer of mischief in the aged brown eyes.
The bower door was left ajar. Arissa, acutely aware of Richmond’s heated body against her, felt her cheeks flushing mightily. As discreetly as she could manage, she slipped from his lap and nearly stumbled in her haste to put distance between them.
Richmond watched her, disappointed and relieved at the same time. Clearly, there was no mistaking the flush to her cheeks and he knew it was because she was angry with him. Angry he had clutched her so intimately, angry that his manners had been sorely lacking. Had Mossy not interrupted them when he did, there was no telling how badly he would have behaved.
What puzzled him, however, was why Mossy returned them to a position that was nearly as intimate as the first. With Arissa sitting on his lap, clutched against his chest, it was almost as if Mossy wanted them to be close. As if he suspected what was occurring within Richmond’s heart and sought to torture him. Crazy old bastard.
He rose from the chair, clearing his throat. “Does it feel better?”
She nodded, unable to look at him. “Soothed, at least.”
He gazed at her dark head, wondering if he should apologize for their close contact. He’d never apologized for all of the innocent occasions in which she had been enfolded in his arms, or seated upon his thighs. Why should he apologize for something that was completely natural?
“Riss, are you all right?” Regine was suddenly in the doorway, her blue eyes wide at her older sister.
Arissa smiled bravely at the younger girl, relieved with the diversion. Richmond’s presence had her shaken. “Fine, Regine. Mossy put a bit of slime on my arm that should heal it properly.”
Regine’s eyes were big on Richmond. “You saved Bart.”
He smiled wearily at the girl. “I prevented him from breaking his artful neck.”
“He has a bruise on his bottom the size of a melon,” Regine said happily. “Mother thinks he has ruptured a vein.”
Richmond snorted. “More than likely he’s managed to damage his brain, considering his intelligence is lodged in his arse.” When Regine giggled, he patted her fondly on the head. “Let me guess, you curious little wench. You saw the bruise, did you not?”
“Of course I did,” Regine tossed her long blond hair flippantly.
Richmond shook his head reprovingly. “I was hoping you would outgrow this intensely curious phase you have been going through, but I see that I have been wrong. I told you no more spying on the soldiers, no more kissing the serving wenches in order to learn their techniques, and you were not to demand explicit stories from the stable boys any longer.”
Regine avoided his gaze, wandering over to her older sister. “I do not kiss the serving wenches any longer. Just the boys. I am developing my own techniques.”
“No more of that. I shall blister you again if I have to.”
Regine hid herself behind Arissa, pressing against her sister’s back in hopes of evading Richmond’s piercing stare. “You are not my father.”
“Hmm,” Richmond cocked a dark eyebrow. “I have kept your disgraceful secrets long enough; any more tales of your promiscuous streak and your father shall know the truth of it. You are too wild for your own good, Regine Margaret. ’Twould do you well to learn to behave as your elder sister does.”
Regine’s plump arms wound around Arissa’s waist. It looked as if the eldest sibling had grown a new pair of limbs. Richmond met Arissa’s gaze, unguarded now that she was no longer the focus of his attention. Silently, she implored him to ease his assault against the inquisitive young girl.
As always, he would do as she asked, audibly expressed or not. He’d always given in to her desires without a struggle. It did not prevent him, however, from giving Arissa a long look as he moved towards the door.
“My lady, I shall leave you to retire. Next time, you would do well to heed my orders so that you do not find yourself injured,” he peered around Arissa, meeting Regine’s pouting gaze. “Good eve to you, my lady.”
His boot falls faded down the hall. Arissa stood in the center of the room, her sister wound around her waist as if the raven-haired beauty could protect her from Richmond’s wrath. Regine had always been terrified of the massive knight with the deep, growling voice. Especially when he disapproved of her slightly perverted juvenile experimentation.
But Arissa had never been terrified of him. At least, not in the literal sense. Even though her arm throbbed with burn and her head swam with confusion, she was not nearly as shaken as she had been moments before. In fact, she was aware of a rather pleasant mood settling.
Something had occurred, although she was not sure what, exactly. The only element she was able to decipher was the fact that Richmond’s touch had gone beyond the usual fatherly gesture. And his beautiful eyes, barely lined with his age, had spoken to her. Words she had never heard before.
Oddly, her confusion and shame gave way to a most unexpected smile.
CHAPTER THREE
Arissa awoke tothe sound of Richmond’s voice. Rolling over in bed, she thought mayhap he was in the corridor speaking to the servants. It took her a moment to realize that he was out in the bailey, shouting orders to the troops.
