Regine giggled. “That’s not the target, Richmond. It’s over there!” she pointed behind him, in the direction of the field.
He whirled around, still squinting. “Ah, yes. I see most clearly now. How clever of them to create moving targets. Much more satisfying to a man of my skills.”
Arissa joined Regine in her giggles. “Those are not moving targets, Richmond, they are men-at-arms bearing Lambourn tunics. Are your eyes really so bad?”
He slanted her a gaze, his eyes glimmering with mirth. “’Tis your own fault, really. You have blinded me with your radiant beauty.”
She lowered her lashes coyly, an utterly charming gesture. “In that case, I must take pity on you and allow you to champion me.”
Regine, tired of the games between Arissa and Richmond, bound off toward the activity on the field. But Richmond barelynoticed her departure for the look in Arissa’s eyes; suddenly, a great mailed glove came up to stroke her cheek tenderly. The emotions, the warmth in his gaze, threatened to swallow her whole. Her entire world at the moment revolved around Richmond and his feather-light touch.
“Well spoken, kitten,” he whispered. Then he sighed, his gaze raking over her. “I can scarcely believe you are eighteen years of age today. It simply does not seem possible.”
They were not words spoken from a reluctant father-figure. They were words spoken from the heart. Arissa knew that as doubtlessly as she knew of her love for him. Before she could stop herself, she pressed her face against his massive hand.
“I am a woman grown, my lord.”
He stared at her, the twinkle in his eyes fading. The finger that caressed her cheek lingered on her chin, trailing down her neck. He knew full well he should not be touching her in such a manner. God’s Teeth, he knew better than anyone that he had no right at all to touch her. He would have killed any man who had handled her in such a fashion, seemingly innocent though it might be. A gentle touch, a chivalrous gesture….
But it was not innocent at all. There was fire raging through his veins, encroaching onto Arissa’s tender flesh. The more he stroked, the more she leaned against him as if her strength was failing. He had been staring into her eyes not a moment before; suddenly, he was watching his badly misbehaving hand as it threatened her.
The pale green eyes suddenly closed and her head lolled back as if she had lost all control, revealing the most glorious neck he had ever had the fortune to gaze upon. Richmond lost the struggle against his labored breathing; harsh gasps came to his dry lips and his gloved hand opened, closing upon her neck as an animal devours its prey. He heard her gasp, a faint sound so erotic he nearly whimpered in response. His grip tightened.
Then she was moving toward him. His gloved hand appeared to have a mind of its own, pulling her against his hard chest. Richmond realized that he was about to permit a depraved madman to ravage Arissa, but he was powerless to prevent it. The pale green eyes opened, focused on him, and he saw a faint curve appear on the luscious red lips. A flicker of a smile. Dear God… she was encouraging him!
Her smile broadened. He couldn’t manage the gesture. All of his attention, his energy, was focused on the woman before him as if she were all that existed in his tumultuous world. His entire body was quivering like the string of a bow; taut, coiled, wracked with anticipation of what was about to occur. God’s teeth,what was he thinking?
“Do ye think to strangle her in front of witnesses, my lord?” Mossy was suddenly beside them, his aged eyes twinkling. “Do not tell me that she asked ye to champion her and ye took offense.”
His hand dropped like a stone. Well-defined finger marks lined Arissa’s white neck. He swallowed hard, his eyes boring into her wide green ones as an unmistakable flush mottled her cheeks.
“I…. I have already agreed to champion my lady as a gift for her birthday,” he managed to choke.
Mossy’s gaze moved between the two of them. Richmond maintained a steady gaze, but Arissa was staring at the ground. When she wandered away, wringing her hands and watching the grass beneath her slippered feet, Mossy cocked an eyebrow at Richmond.
“Then if ye are going to kiss her, my lord, do it in the trees where no one can see ye. ’Twere William to see ye, word might get back to her father.”
Richmond’s eyes suddenly blazed. Mossy’s gaze held even and he nodded faintly. “Aye, I know who she is. I have alwaysknown,” he tapped his head in a thoughtful gesture. “Ye forget, Richmond, that I delivered Maude’s dead child, the dead babe young Henry knew of. And I was the one who took Arissa from ye when ye delivered her to Lambourn that snowy December night. Although ye never made mention of her heritage, I was not so deaf that I did not hear the truth spoken between William and Maude on more than one occasion. But the populace of Lambourn never knew the difference; ’twas easy to convince them that Arissa was the child Maude birthed, switching the babes as we did.”
Richmond had always suspected Mossy had been privy to the most secretive of information, but the old man had never mentioned a word. In faith, he didn’t particularly care but he sought to make the situation clear.
“She doesn’t know.”
“Nay, she doesn’t,” Mossy agreed. “And she will never hear it from my lips. ’Tis none of my affair to involve myself in the matter.”
His rigid stance relaxed somewhat and his gaze returned to Arissa, standing patiently several feet away as she watched the activity on the field. He suddenly felt an ancient hand come to rest on his gauntlet.
“She does not want to join the cloister, ye know,” Mossy said quietly. “If ye were to convince her father…. he’d let ye have her, I suspect.”
Outwardly, Richmond’s only reaction was to return his gaze to the old man. But inwardly, he was wracked with the possibilities of the statement.
“Out of the question, Mossy. Arissa’s destiny is in the hands of God. Come the New Year, she will retire to Whitby and I shall return to London.”
“Never to see her again? Do ye know what that will do to her, man?”
His brow furrowed faintly. “She’s no choice in the matter. Her future was decided long ago.”
Mossy’s gaze rested on him a moment. “But that was before she loved you.” He turned and walked away.
