“Open your eyes, Richmond, or I shall do it for you,” she commanded softly. “You will not disobey me.”
He licked his lips again and his eyelids moved, his eyes crusty and sore. “God’s Teeth,” he slurred with the greatest of effort. “Riss, you…. you are a tyrant.”
Daniel laughed loudly, joyfully. The earl managed a tremulous smile to his wife and younger daughter, expressing his relief and happiness that Richmond was reacting to any stimulation at all. He’d been unconscious for four days and they were beginning to doubt that he would ever recover from his stupor. A lethargic sign, as feeble as it was, was still an invitation for hope.
Only Gavan was not smiling. As far as he was concerned, there was no hope; he’d never seen anyone recover from a wound of this magnitude and he suspected Richmond would not be an exception, whether or not he had managed to emerge from the depths of unconsciousness.
Struggling with consuming regret, he stared at the man on the wagon bed, wondering how he could have ever doubted his loyalties. Thinking back, he never truly believed; he knewRichmond better than anyone and the man did not possessed a rebellious bone in his body. He was loyal to the core, devoted to the end. And, as he had proven while a host of astonished English knights witness, willing to sacrifice his life for his beliefs.
He wished he could tell Arissa all of it, but now was not the time. Even as Gavan continued to doubt Richmond’s chances of survival, Arissa refused to believe that he was going to die in her arms. Shecouldnot believe. Struggling against her fears, she smiled broadly and kissed him again, sweetly. This time, he responded.
“Welcome home, my love,” she murmured, her silky hair tumbling over the both of them. He could feel it caressing his chest and shoulders.
“H…. home?” he rasped, trying desperately to open his eyes. “Where i….is home?”
“Lambourn, of course,” she said softly, collecting one of his massive hands. “You are going to be fine. Mossy will heal you, as he has healed me so often in the past. You will survive, Richmond, do you understand?”
He licked his lips again. “Lamb… I do not….”
She would not allow him to continue. Pressing his huge hand against her rounded belly, she rubbed the appendage across her swollen midsection so that he would feel her state. In the muddled throes of agony and fever, Richmond did indeed feel her condition and his head lolled to the side again as he struggled more fiercely than before to focus on her.
She smiled as she saw his increased agitation. “Do you feel the result of our love? We are expecting our son in September.”
His swollen eyes were open, staring at his hand as it touched her blossoming stomach. She watched his dazed expression as he swallowed, hard.
“My God, Riss…,” he rasped. “Do you…. feel all right?”
To hear words of his concern for her health nearly broke the threads of her slimly-held control and she couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes. The man was on his death bed; still he was only concerned for her well-being. One tear broke free, pelting his pallid cheek.
“I am fine, my love, never better,” she assured him, her voice tight with emotion. “Now, you must recover in time for the birth of your son.”
Richmond’s hand moved weakly against her tight stomach as the news of her condition sank deep. In spite of his own agony, he couldn’t help the despair that swept him at the sight of her protruding abdomen; his greatest fears were evident beneath his touch and his already-shaking hand quivered more violently as his terror took hold.
“But…. Mossy said that….”
“She’s as healthy as a horse, a far sight better than ye I might add,” Mossy hovered over Arissa’s shoulder, a glass vial in his hand. “It is up to me to heal ye so yer son will know his father. Ye’ve got to drink this.”
As Mossy thrust the vial forward, aided by Arissa, Richmond’s crusty eyes widened. “Nay,” he whispered, fending them both off. “There…. is something I must do first,” he rolled his head away from Mossy and Arissa, looking for familiar features he knew would be lurking about. His gaze fell on William. “Seek Father Ralph from the village, William. I…. I have a need for his services.”
The earl did not hesitate. He sent several men on their way instantaneously and Richmond closed his eyes, too weary to thank the man. He could hold out until the priest arrived to join them in matrimony, mayhap giving him last rites at the same time. After all, it was his privilege to marry the fair maiden. He’d won her fairly enough.
He’d killed Hotspur as he had promised, quashing the Welsh rebellion in one powerful blow. Even if he had been branded a traitor, rumors had probably already reached London spouting tales of his valor and bravery, turning against his friend in battle and taking the man’s life. Henry, he was sure, had been the first to hear the tales from the border, knowing his greatest knight was still his mightiest supporter. Knowing that Richmond le Bec, in fact, had not betrayed his king.
Richmond had kept his part of the bargain. And he was positive Henry would keep his.
It was amazing how the months of separation from Arissa had shaped him, bringing about a strength of character he never knew he had. He had learned of her blood ties to Owen, and that Sister Repentia or, more correctly, Lady Ellyn was Owen’s cousin. He’d come to know David Glendower and had actually come to like the man, making it hard to kill him in one of the many smaller skirmishes along the border. Richmond had made it to look as if an enemy dagger had done away with him, a necessary action leading to the systematic weakening of the Welsh resistance.
An internal weakening that had taken a strange turn when Charles de Worth had managed to make his way back into Owen’s camp, demanding monetary compensation for more information on Arissa’s whereabouts. Richmond had taken great pleasure in doing away with the treacherous bastard, his former captain, even before he learned that Charles de Worth had been responsible for Owen’s initial knowledge of Arissa’s existence.
As from the beginning, Richmond found himself protecting Arissa against those who would seek to do her harm, especially her mother’s vengeful husband.
He had been unaware of his dozing state, reliving vivid memories of the past several months until Arissa gently touchedhis cheek, kissing his parched lips and bringing him back to the world at hand.
“Richmond? Can you hear me still?”
He grunted feebly. “I am with you, kitten.”
“Why did you send for the priest? I told you that I forbid you to die.”
