“Is that what all this is about?Havingme?” Arissa shook her head, bewildered and terrified. “You have violated an abbey, Tad. The wrath of the church shall come down upon you and your family, and there will be no protection from their anger!”
Tad’s jaw ticked. “There will be no proof of my presence or my transgression. Especially after I burn the abbey to the ground and her occupants with her, there will be no witnesses left to identify me,” keeping a firm grip on her arm, he jerked the iron bolt free of its lock. Casting a lingering glance to Arissa, he smiled wicked. “You shall enjoy me, love. I am quite good, I am told.”
Her expression rippled with loathing. “I simply cannot believe that you would come all the way to Yorkshire simply to abduct me. You are supposed to be dead.”
A flash of madness ignited in his sunken eyes. “Le Bec’s men were off their mark, damaging my shoulder and nothing more. Even so, I was only able to arrive yesterday and pray that I was not too late,” as if suddenly remembering his fury, his grip tightened and he yanked her against him harshly. “No more talk. You and I have a date with destiny.”
She opened her mouth to protest as he jerked open the door, but what wait on the other side of the heavy oak panel did not surprise her.
Richmond’s sword was raised in an offensive stance. Tad caught a glimpse of the glistening metal and was wise enough to surmise the situation. With lightning speed, he pulled Arissa in front of him to act as a human shield; thrusting her forward, he expected her to meet with le Bec’s fatal downparry.
Richmond was a hair’s breadth away from striking Arissa but veered off at the last possible second. Off balance and filled with terror, he stumbled sideways as he narrowly avoided slicing her in two. Heaving with shock and horror, he raised his faceplate to her swollen, bleeding face.
“Dear God…,” he gasped, swallowing the bile that threatened to erupt. “Kitten, are you badly injured?”
She shook her head, her pale green eyes filling with frightened tears. Richmond emitted a ragged sigh, struggling to return his focus to Tad. The moment he gazed at the man, he felt his loathing and determination return tenfold.
What had begun as a moderate game of abhorrence had transformed into something so malignant that he was not at all concerned with the repercussions his actions against the de Rydal heir might have. He did not care if Lambourn and Goring Hall remained embroiled in a bitter feud for all eternity as a result of his deed. He was going to kill the bastard and enjoy every minute of it.
Tad smiled thinly, stroking Arissa’s arms in a seductive manner purely to enrage Richmond. “So you discovered my plot, le Bec? I am not surprised, although I expected you to be involved with the battle time enough to allow me to escape. But no matter; I shall be allowed to go on my way or the lady will meet with an ugly beating. Right before your eyes.”
Richmond struggled to maintain his composure as Tad attempted to kiss the side of Arissa’s head, only to be met by a slap. She squirmed and shrieked, trying to pull free, but he simply laughed and tightened his grip. “I shall wager she’s not so resistant to you, Sir Richmond. In time, I am sure she will show me the same eager response.”
“You shall never leave this place alive,” Richmond growled. “Release her and I shall end your life mercifully.”
“I think not. Move aside or the lady will suffer.”
Richmond took a deep breath, shifting on his thick legs. He seemed to be calming, refusing to look at Arissa lest his composure dissolve completely. As long as she was relatively unharmed, he could handle the negotiations with Tad withoutan overly emotional reaction. But the struggle to maintain his control was a constant, unnerving battle.
He had been shocked to realize the de Rydal heir had masterminded the ambush. He had been led to believe that the arrogant young knight had one foot in the grave, hence Ovid de Rydal’s attack against Lambourn. Even though the man before him was pale and drawn, he was alive nonetheless and fully capable of executing an organized abduction.
Too weak to fight in the battle he had staged as a diversion from his true goal, Richmond had suspected early on that, somehow, he had unknowingly delivered Arissa into Tad’s waiting arms.
Tad knew that Richmond would remove her from the battle zone, and the abbey had been a most logical destination. Relying on his healing injury, Tad had acquired the nuns’ sympathies in order to gain entrance to Whitby to wait for Arissa.
He was sorry that he had not realized the plan soon enough to foil Tad’s kidnap attempt. But no matter. What the earlier ambush by unknown parties had failed to complete, Richmond would gladly finish. Gazing calmly into Tad’s eyes, he could only envision the man’s death.
“Nay,” he replied slowly. “I shall not move aside. And the only person to suffer shall be you.”
Tad cocked an eyebrow. In a flash, he unsheathed a small dagger lodged within the plated sections of his armor. Pointing the tip against the curve of Arissa’s slender torso, he applied pressure until she winced with pain. Richmond clenched his teeth so tightly that he bit his lip as he watched Arissa squirm with agony.
“Move aside or I swear I shall cut her. Do not push my patience, le Bec.”
The sharp point of the dirk broke through the material of her surcoat and Arissa yelped when the razor-edge punctured herskin. All color drained from Richmond’s face, staring at Tad as if to look right through him.
“You have already pushed mine.”
A thin wail suddenly pierced the damp air, growing louder by the millisecond. The smug expression faded from Tad’s face as he identified the sound, knowing it was meant for him, and knowing it was already too late to save himself.
Grasping the hilt of the dirk as the last fractions of his life ticked away, he prepared to drive the weapon deep into Arissa’s body when he suddenly emitted a harsh grunt and lurched forward, sending a terrified Arissa to her knees.
The dirk fell to the moist earth and Tad fell beside it, the brutal sounds of death gurgling deep within his throat. Shrieking and gasping, Arissa turned to witness a large arrow protruding from Tad’s neck in the precise seam where the helm met the body armor. Even as Richmond swept her into his arms, she continued to watch as Tad de Rydal drew in his final breath, the sightless blue eyes closing forever on a world that had permanently evaded his grasp. The first arrow a week prior had missed its mark; the second arrow did not.
Clinging to Richmond’s neck, Arissa turned toward the direction the arrow had come in time to see Gavan emerging from behind the parked provisions wagon. A Welsh crossbow lodged in his two-fisted grip, his handsome face was taut as he lowered the weapon. His jaw ticked furiously as he looked down at the man whose life he had been forced to take.
“Rot in hell, you miserable bastard,” he rumbled.
Arissa was trembling so violently that she could barely respond to the man who had saved her life. Turning from Gavan’s angry face, she collapsed in sobs against Richmond’s shoulder; she’d come too close to death to react in any other fashion.
