She stood by impatiently as he ordered one of his manservants to bring them a plate of food, turning away deliberately when his gaze raked over her in a suggestivemanner. She was growing to hate him more and more by the second.
The servant brought a trencher overfilled with meat and bread. Tad ordered Arissa to sit underneath a bulky-stoned lancet window as he cut the meat with his dagger.
“Truly, Sir Tad, I am not hungry,” she said for the tenth time. “You may enjoy your food alone.”
“I do not wish to enjoy it alone, I wish to enjoy it with you,” he said, his mouth full. He sawed on another piece of pork and held it out for her. “Here, beautiful lady. ’Tis most delightful.”
She turned away from him without a word. He shoved the meat into his own mouth instead. “What’s the matter? Are you not enjoying yourself?”
She’d had her fill of manners and protocol. She simply wanted to be away from him, no matter what it took. Polite requests had gone ignored. It was time to delve into serious insults.
“Nay, I am not,” she said frankly, fixing him with a hard gaze. “I was polite to you this morn when I offered to escort you. You, however, have managed to keep me to yourself far longer than I would have hoped for. In short, sirrah, I have other guests to attend to. You certainly are not the only one.”
He looked genuinely surprised. “I had no idea you felt so, my lady. I thought we were getting along quite well.”
She stood up, brushing at her surcoat primly. “Mayhap in your own mind, my lord. As for me, I must be on my way. Good day to you.”
“Arissa!” he suddenly leapt up, blocking her exit. “Have I offended you somehow? Your manner is most perplexing.”
She rolled her eyes. “My manner is the result of your boorish conversation. One more word from your mouth regarding the overall coinage invested in your wardrobe and I shall surely scream. Now, if you will please excuse me.”
He reached out and grabbed her arm, a most unfriendly gesture. His tone had changed as well. “Foolish wench. Do you not know courting talk when you hear it?”
Her mouth opened in surprise. “Courting talk? ’Tis you who are the fool, Sir Tad. Did you not hear my father tell you that I am pledged to the church?”
“I heard him. The man is an idiot.”
Arissa was outraged. “How dare you speak of my father that way!”
His grip tightened and, suddenly, Arissa was pulled up against his cold, armored chest. “He’s a fool to allow a woman of your beauty to be wasted in servitude to a God we cannot see. You, darling, were made for a man’s pleasure.”
Somewhere, Arissa heard a faint chime, like the wind toying with bells hung on a string. Next she realized, a very large broadsword was pressed against Tad’s face. She could see her own reflection in the brilliant steel.
“I will give you less than a second to release Lady Arissa or you forfeit your life.”
Arissa’s heart soared at the sound of Richmond’s voice, deadly and sincere. Instantly, Tad released his grasp and she stumbled away from him, moving to seek protection behind Richmond’s massive body.
Even though Arissa was safe, Richmond did not drop the sword; instead, he seemed to take peculiar delight in caressing the cold steel against the end of Tad’s nose. The knight stood like stone, watching the blade with crossed-eyes.
“Are you well, kitten?”
“Fine, Richmond.”
The sword was sheathed faster than the human eye could comprehend. Arissa, relieved that Richmond had detoured her over-zealous suitor, wrapped her arms about his armored waist and peered at Tad from behind Richmond’s massive frame.
“Be gone with you,” Richmond growled. “If I see you so much as glance in my lady’s direction, you will know the true meaning of pain.”
Tad backed up a step, his outrage overcoming his initial shock. “What goes on between Lady Arissa and myself is none of your affair, Sir Richmond.”
“I beg to differ. Her welfare has always been my concern.”
Tad came to a halt in his quest to leave the area. The massive keep was casting long shadows in the bailey from the afternoon sun, shielding the three of them from the bright glare. Even though there was moderate activity in the bailey, their exchange went completely unnoticed.
“You are too old to fight a young man’s duel, le Bec,” Tad said in a low, nearly mocking tone. “The next man you tread upon may not be as generous as I.”
Richmond almost looked amused. “You are most generous to obey my command, my lord. However, it is difficult to hold a sword when your hands are shaking like a woman’s.”
“Woman indeed! I shall show you a woman,” he whirled, searching desperately for any man with a weapon. “You! Yes, you! Bring me your staff!”
