“Actually, both,” Bartholomew said, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm and leading her across the grass. Penelope and Emma occupied his other side as Regine trailed behind. “Your mother has planted herself before the upstairs solar window so that she would be able to observe as you frolicked in the water. But Lady Maude was unable to watch you for fear she might witness some sort of horrible catastrophe. Such as you sinking to the bottom of the lake, I suppose.”
Arissa smiled, patting her swollen belly. “With this buoyancy, I doubt I shall sink.” Well into her seventh month, she was already large with child. Almost too large, if one would ask the opinions of Lady Ellyn or Lady Maude. But Mossy assured them the child was fine and Arissa was extremely healthy; in fact, she was healthier than he had ever known her to be. There was nothing to worry over, he told them. Naturally, they were not easy to agree.
“Great Gods, I would think not,” Bartholomew snorted, passing a glance at Penelope. “And what about you, my fine lady? You have a great deal of growing to do to catch up with my sister.”
Penelope’s lips folded in a pout. “I have not been able to eat as well as Riss simply because I have been ill nearly the entire time. She’s not been ill one day!”
Arissa shrugged. “I do not know that it is better to eat like a horse from morn until evening. I do not think I have stopped eating for seven months.”
Emma snorted with humor. “Do you remember how Richmond used to practically feed you every meal? You ate less than a bird and he was constantly scolding you for it. He wouldhardly believe were he to see you at the table now, stuffing everything into your mouth that you can lay your hands on.”
Arissa laughed softly in agreement, her joviality fading to think of Richmond once again. The past seven months had been a winding journey through the inner depths of an emotional hell, more joy and sorrow than she ever thought possible.
Parting with Richmond on that icy December morn had been harder than she ever imagined; in fact, had it not been for Sister Repentia’s calm words and comforting presence, she doubted that she would have allowed herself to be taken from Richmond at all. The fact that he had clung to her as if he were drowning only made it worse.
Her mother had stayed with her throughout the entire journey home, consoling her, singing to her, treating her as if she were a babe once again. Arissa was content to lay in the woman’s lap day after day, barely able to think or feel or move, and Sister Repentia was content to cradle her as she had so wanted to all of these years. Her child needed her, more than ever, and she would not disappoint.
Never once had Owen’s name been mentioned as they travelled through the snowy landscape, nor did she make mention of Arissa’s blood ties to the Welsh leader. Arissa need never know the truth as far as her mother was concerned. The less she knew of the harsh realities of life, the better for her well-being. She did not need any more grief than had already been delivered.
Hoping the trip homeward would prove to be calming and uneventful in the face of Arissa’s wrenching extraction from Wales, their wishes were granted. However, an odd twist occurred that neither lady was aware of at the time; when Richmond had ordered Arissa sent home, he had been referring to Whitby. Naturally, she assumed he had meant Lambourn and when they arrived, they were met by Bartholomew’s inquisitiveface. On Bartholomew’s heels came William, full of vigor and pleasantries and without knowledge of his most violent words towards Arissa and Richmond.
As Mossy had explained some time later, William had been drunk and exhausted the day those fateful words had been uttered and had been sincerely distressed to awaken from a two day’s sleep to discover that Arissa had been whisked from Lambourn. Knowing Richmond had final judgment on Arissa’s safety, William had assumed the knight had deemed a compromised fortress an inappropriate place for Henry’s daughter and had seen fit to promptly remove her.
Which was why he had been overjoyed with her unexpected return. Exhausted and hysterical, she had relayed stories of Richmond’s bravery and betrayal, and William had been deeply shocked to learn that Richmond had allied himself with Owen Glendower. Arissa had informed her father that Richmond had betrayed his king to save her from the Welsh prince’s clutches; William wondered if it was true.
The New Year came and went, and the Welsh resistance had fired in earnest thanks to the brilliance of Richmond le Bec and the mighty sword of Hotspur. Gavan and William left for the border to aid Henry’s cause, despondent that they were to be fighting against a man who had been a sworn ally and friend for the better part of their lives.
It was a painful predicament Arissa did not like to dwell on. Her father and Gavan were waging war against Richmond and to maintain her sanity in the face of such upheaval was a constant struggle.
The battle threatened to deepen as she and her friends left the serenity of the lake; for the sake of her brittle composure, however, she forced herself from her gloomy thoughts and passed a disinterested glance at Regine and Emma as they quibbled over something undeniably serious. Penelope, havinghad enough of the arguing between the two younger women, moved beside Arissa as they made their way toward the fortress.
“Mayhap we can lose Emma and Regine and retire to the solar for a game of backgammon. Are you hungry? I feel as if I could eat something.”
Arissa glanced at her fair friend, flushed rosy with her pregnancy. “It is indeed a miracle if you feel like eating. Certainly I shall join you; mayhap I can convince my mother to prepare her special apple-and-cinnamon treat for us.”
Penelope nodded vigorously. “Your mother makes wonderful dishes; poor Whitby, we have taken away their talented cook.”
Arissa smiled, thinking on her raven-haired birth mother. “Whitby’s misfortune is my greatest fortuity,” she sighed, gazing into the hot blue sky above. “I am so very glad she has decided not to return to the cloister. She belongs here, with me. We have eighteen years of separation to make up for.”
“That is what Lady Ellyn said,” Penelope agreed softly. “I heard her tell Lady Maude that she’s destined to be with you, be it at Whitby or at Lambourn. And Lady Maude eagerly agreed.”
Arissa nodded. “How fortunate that I have two mothers who care deeply for me.”
She paused a moment in thoughtful silence, thinking on the relationship she and Lady Ellyn had formed. No longer was the green-eyed woman known as Sister Repentia, a title she had given up the day she decided to remain at Lambourn. Outside of the confines of the convent, her holy title seemed out of place and hollow. At Lambourn, she had finally found a place where she belonged, a place where she could be happy. Anywhere Arissa was, she was happy.
“I thought there would be a great deal of jealousy between Lady Ellyn and Lady Maude for your attentions, but there has been none at all,” Penelope interrupted Arissa’s thoughts as shewatched the clover under her feet. “In fact, they seem to work well as a team.”
Arissa made a face at the thought. “Team, indeed. Sometimes they can be most overbearing. Having one mother can be difficult enough, but two….” she rolled her eyes humorously, giggling when Penelope laughed. “But my mother seems very happy to be here, don’t you think? I am so glad Lady Maude has welcomed her into Lambourn’s family.”
Penelope nodded, catching sight of her husband on the battlements. “Even though Lady Maude did not give you life, you are still her daughter. And she considers Lady Ellyn part of the family because she’s your birth mother.”
Arissa’s slippered feet met with the gravel and dirt road leading to the bailey of Lambourn. “I remember when I first met my mother at the abbey, how somber and quiet she was. As if the years of separation had taken something out of her. But here, she seems most content. She knows she belongs.”
“She belongs withyou,” Penelope waved to her husband as he acknowledged her from the ramparts above.
Arissa agreed as she allowed her brother to lead her into the beautiful new bailey. The babe in her belly kicked as she moved across the dusty courtyard and Arissa was positive it was because, naturally being not only a le Bec but a male child, he was expressing his pleasure at the sounds of horses and soldiers and weaponry. All that his father was, he would soon be a part of, too.
In spite of the somewhat shocking pregnancy of an unwed lady, Arissa relished the feel of the life inside her. She did not care what anyone else thought of her shameless state, for she knew the child had been conceived in love and devotion. Both of her mothers knew that as well, especially Ellyn, who acutely remembered her similar circumstance those eighteen years ago.
