“You would send her out in to a threatening snow storm?” Richmond rose to his feet, imploring. “Give us the night. She will leave come the morrow.”
Owen opened his mouth to staunchly refuse, but Hotspur interrupted him. “Of course we would not send a delicate lady into this vicious weather,” he said firmly, daring Owen to contradict him. He looked at Richmond, hoping the man didn’t hate him too much. “You have her for the night, Richmond. She leaves at dawn.”
They quit the tent, leaving Richmond and Arissa in stunned silence. Dazed and shaken, Richmond let out a ragged sigh before turning to find pale green eyes staring up at him. Arissa was in his arms before he realized he had even moved to her.
“God, Riss,” he murmured against her mouth, listening to her soft sobs. “What happened? How did they find you?”
“Hotspur came for me,” she wept softly, tasting his musk as if she had been starving for him all of her life. “He gave the mother abbess a false missive from the king, demanding that I be delivered to Henry’s death bed. She had no choice but to release me to Hotspur’s custody.”
Richmond’s jaw began to tick again. “He must have probed Lambourn to discover your whereabouts,” he mumbled, suckling her lower lip. “It was no secret that you were destined for Whitby. Damn him, he knew that I would be in London and unable to protect you and, being allied with Owen, he was a willing party in the Welsh bastard’s scheme to acquire you.”
She gasped as his mouth latched onto her honeyed lips, his tongue plundering the depths of her mouth. Her small fingers gouged crescent-shaped wounds into his scalp as she held him to her fiercely.
“What’s going to happen now, Richmond?” she tore her mouth away as he devoured her neck, her jawline. “Are you really going to fight for Owen?”
“I gave my word, kitten,” he whispered, his eager manner slowing. “They knew exactly how to manipulate me with your abduction and I am furthermore convinced that they were planning on holding you captive in order to subdue the English crown. But I turned the situation on them somewhat; I promised my services in exchange for your release.”
Her eyes opened as her eager pace eased. “You shall be branded a traitor.”
He did not say anything for a moment. “Trust me, kitten. I am not a traitor. No matter what you hear or what things appear to be, I swear to you that I am loyal to Henry. And to you.”
“But you are fighting for the rebellion now,” she insisted fearfully. “What will happen when…?”
He kissed her hard to stop her words, the fears that were tearing at them both. He felt as if his heart were being broken into a million little pieces and his anguish knew no boundaries. How could he make her understand the deeper implications of what he was about to do, the betrayal and treachery and murder? He was about to descend into the ranks of the soulless,aligning himself with those who would kill for a price or a cause or a need for blood.
He was about to become a part of the filth. As much as he loathed assuming the role of assassin and betrayer, he had no choice. But she need never know any of it. He couldn’t bear to see her disgust for him in her eyes. He had to do this– for her.
“Nothing will happen, kitten,” he murmured. “All will be well in the end, I promise you. You must believe.”
Her eyes began to well with frightened, exhausted tears. “When…. when will I see you? Richmond, you are going to battle again!”
He kissed her softly, feeling his eyes stinging with tears. “You shall see me very soon,” his voice was hoarse with emotion. “I never could stay away from you for an over amount of time.”
“You stayed away for nearly a year when Henry was battling for the throne,” she reminded him, wiping at her damp face.
“I promise I will not be away for a year,” he said firmly. “Weeks, months. When we are together forever, what will a few short days matter?”
She sighed, shaking her head. “All I know is we are about to face another painful good-bye. When you left me at Whitby, I thought I was going to die. Now I do not believe even death will be strong enough to ease my pain.”
He gazed at her a moment, knowing well the meaning of her words. Suddenly, he remembered a worn fragment of affection he had tucked deeply inside his heavy tunic, a token he kept with him always. Digging into his tunic, he drew forth a wrinkled bit of green satin. Arissa tore her eyes away from his face long enough to recognize the package.
“My flowers,” she whispered.
He smiled, tucking them into her palm. “You gave them to me once and they sustained me. Now I would return them toyou, for safe-keeping. So that you will forget me not while we are separated.”
Arissa clutched the parcel to her chest, smelling of leather and Richmond. “I swear to you, I shall keep them next to my heart, always,” releasing a ragged sigh, she grasped at his stubbled face in desperation. “Why must this happen, Richmond? My chest hurts so that I believe I am going to fade away at this very moment.”
He pulled her to the pile of furs by the vizier, sending her to her knees as he knelt in front of her. His face, half-illuminated by the blazing embers, met her anguished gaze and he smiled. He was tired of feeling pain and there would be enough pain in the weeks and months to come. But tonight, he only wanted to feel Arissa, one last time.
“I shall ease your pain, kitten,” he murmured, moving to release the fastens on her cloak. “This night is ours. Owen and Hotspur and the rebellion have granted us that much. Tonight we will erase all pain and create memories of joy for the future.”
She watched his massive hands as they disrobed her, feeling a mixture of heat and anguish the likes of which she had never experienced. The pain in her chest flowed to her hands, passing through to Richmond. “Then there is nothing more we can do?”
He shook his head, swallowing his sorrow. “Nay.”
Tears came to her eyes again but she struggled against them, offering him a feeble smile. “Promise me we will not sleep.”
The cloak fell away. “We will not sleep.”
