Great Protector (39 page)

“Agreed,”
he said, shifting back to his original statement. “But you must tell her
something. She’s understandably frightened.”

Slowly,
Richmond shook his head. "Do you think she will want to hear that the only
father she’s ever known has sworn to kill her on sight? How do you think she
will feel when I tell her that William blames her for Bart's injury?" he
sighed heavily, ignoring the dripping water on his face. "I cannot bring
myself to tell her those things. Any of it."

"So
you would allow her to cry herself ill while you refrain from explaining why
she had to leave home?" Gavan closed his visor against the driving rain.
"You are being cruel."

Richmond's
head snapped to Gavan, his blue eyes blazing beneath his open visor. "I am
sparing her feelings."

"Not
at all. You are hoping she will never question your reasons for abruptly
leaving Lambourn, therefore, you will not voluntarily tell her the factors
behind her departure," his helmed head turned to his friend. "That's
not like you, Richmond. You have always been exceedingly honest and
forthright."

Richmond's
intense gaze lingered on his second a moment longer before turning away. After
a heady pause, he let out a sharp sigh.

"You
are right, of course. She’s to know, even if it is only a portion of the
truth."

Gavan
eyed him for a moment. "'Tis understandable that you are afraid to tell
her. You do not want to be the cause of her grief."

"I
loathe to be the cause of her grief."

"But
you do not seem to realize that you are causing her more grief with your
silence."

Richmond
slanted the man an intolerant, nearly-mocking glance. "You are too damn
wise for your own good, Hage. Get away from me; you have piqued my irritation
because your wisdom exceeds mine."

Gavan
smiled. "'Tis time you come to realize my superiority."

"Arrogant
swine," Richmond slammed his visor down, reining his charger towards the
rear of the column where Arissa rode aboard the provisions wagon.

Arissa
did not see him approach until mud suddenly splashed up from the road, pelting
the heavy cloth across her lap. Directing his destrier next to the jostling
wagon, he raised his visor, his weary face wet from the rain.

"I
am sorry we had to leave in the middle of this storm," he said quietly.
"Are you comfortable?"

She
did not say anything for a moment. Then, her angry, pale face glared at him
from beneath her hood. "Why did we have to leave so suddenly? I did not
even get to say farewell to anyone."

His
blue eyes were laced with fatigue, the shadowy stubble on his face speaking
volumes of a man who hadn't seen a moment's rest since before dawn. He held her
gaze for a lengthy pause.

"Because
you are still my charge, Lady Arissa, and I deemed it necessary to leave
Lambourn immediately to preserve your safety and possibly your life,” he
sounded snappish. “In case you haven't realized it, Lambourn is a battle zone
and certainly no place for you. Furthermore, your natural father's enemies have
discovered your whereabouts and the sooner you leave, the better. Do you
comprehend me?"

Her
fury faded and she lowered her gaze, ashamed with her behavior. As always, he
was only thinking of her best interests and she should not have become angry
with him for doing what he must.

She
wiped at her nose daintily. "But why couldn't I even say good-bye?"

His
compassion for her plight deepened, torn so brutally from her friends and
family. His voice softened. "Because we could not spare the time. I am
sorry, kitten. I truly am."

She
sniffled softly, wiping at her nose again. "I.... I am going to miss them
terribly. I did not even have the chance to tell Penelope how sorry I was for
her father's death."

He
reached out to touch her hand; this time, she did not pull away and wound her
fingers tightly around his massive gauntlet. "She knows how sorry you are,
kitten. Do not fret so."

They
rode in silence for a few moments.  The rain had lessened in intensity,
although it was still quite wet. But there was a peace to the rain, a soothing
quality that comforted and consoled weary soldiers and lady alike. Arissa
listened to the rain, holding Richmond's hand and feeling a measureable degree
of tranquility. But the calming sounds did nothing to ease the apprehension for
her future.

"Where
are you taking me?" she asked quietly.

His
grip tightened around her fingers. "Whitby."

Whitby.
A month ahead of schedule. She
had been looking forward to spending the next thirty-one days with Richmond,
exploring and discovering, creating memories to lock deep into her heart that
she could draw upon when she was forced into the lonely isolation of the abbey.
She had been counting on those recollections to preserve her sanity.

But
Richmond had decided to alter that schedule. She did not want to go to Whitby;
not now, not ever. The tears that had so recently fled were back with a
vengeance, and she sobbed softly into her handkerchief.

Richmond
squeezed her hand tightly. "Do not cry, kitten. You shall be perfectly
safe there while I attend to necessary duties. I will not be long, I promise.
Just long enough to plead for your hand."

Her
sobbing grew louder, more hysterical. "But.... I do-on't want to go. I-I
shall be away from you for C-Christmas, Richmond. Do not take me t-there, not
now!"

He
tugged on her hand, hard enough to cause her to lurch to her feet. Before she
realized it, he was grasping her about the waist and placing her in front of
him in the saddle. Adjusting the oiled cloth to keep her dry, he spurred his
charger forward.

Arissa
continued to sob miserably as his thick arm clutched her tightly. Faceplate
raised, he leaned close to her ear. "I do not want to take you there, you
know that. But I have virtually no choice in the matter."

She
sniffled and sobbed. "N-not there! D-Do you have friends we could stay
with? O-Or you could t-take me to Windsor. I am sure the k-king would not
mind."

He
did not say anything for a moment and she could feel his hot breath against her
ear. Certainly it would not be a keen idea for her to be roving the halls of
Windsor for several good reasons; Henry would not want to be reminded at every
turn of a love gone by, of the painful indiscretions that had plagued a young
noble. Furthermore, Richmond most likely would be kept apart from her out of
pure protocol. He was, after all, a mere knight. And she was of royal blood.

His
heart sank when he realized Arissa had no true home, no place to seek refuge in
her time of need. There was nowhere for her to go. Except Whitby.

"That
would not be wise, Riss," he murmured softly. "There is nowhere for
you to go but the abbey."

She
wept into her hand. "D-Do not leave me there, Richmond. Please do not
leave me there alone."

He
held her tightly. "I have no choice, kitten."

"Then
I w-want to go home," she sobbed pathetically. "I want to go back to
L-Lambourn."

His
jaw ticked faintly as he remembered William's words, harsh threats spoken in
the midst of agonizing grief. "You cannot go home. You cannot ever go
home."

She
continued to sob and cough, breaking his heart with her sorrow. Although he had
numerous friends scattered throughout the country, he felt most comfortable for
her safety and health tucked away in the Yorkshire abbey. Far away from Owen
and far away from Henry's enemies who were clearly aware of her existence.
Whereas Arissa could be wrested from the walls of a breached fortress, or even
the walls of Windsor for that matter, those who sought to do her harm would
think twice before violating the haven of an abbey.

"Listen
to me, love," he squeezed her gently, attempting to distract her from her
misery. "I promise we shall take our time traveling to Whitby. We shall
make an adventure of it; stopping at every inn that captures your fancy,
purchasing sweets and pretty things. We shall have a wonderful time doing
whatever our moods dictate. Will that be acceptable?"

She
ran a finger under her nose, thinking on his offer a moment. "T-The nuns
will make me give up the pretty things we purchase."

He
shrugged, attempting to keep his manner light in the hope that she would follow
suit. If she noted his unconcerned attitude towards the unknown amount of time
to be spent at Whitby, mayhap she would cease to view the necessary separation
as a death sentence.

"I
shall keep them safely for you,” he assured her. “I have also had in mind to
build my own keep; mayhap we shall discover a suitable piece of land as we
travel northward. We shall pass through portions of lovely country and I am
sure we can choose a fitting location. I will depend upon you to assist me in
this most important duty."

She
sniffled again, her tears fading as a faint excitement took hold. "You
want me to help you?"

"Absolutely.
It will be your keep too, will it not?"

She
thought a moment; certainly it would be her keep, too. The place where she and
Richmond would spend the rest of their lives, basking in a love that had
existed since the day she was born. She wiped at her nose yet again, turning to
look at him in the rain.

"M-Mayhap
we can build it on a hill, overlooking the land,” she said helpfully. “Mayhap
we can even build it overlooking a river; a huge grand place with hundreds of
rooms for all of the children we will have."

His
smile faded, thinking on Mossy's words.
Were she to conceive, it could kill
her.
Gazing into the pale green eyes, he tried not to let his depression
show. "I doubt we could have enough children to fill one hundred
rooms," he said softly. "In any event, you will help me select a
suitable site for our keep. Agreed?"

Our
keep.
Her tears
were forgotten as he successfully diverted her grief and she smiled hopefully.
"Can I name our fortress?"

"Certainly
you can," he pulled the oiled tarp tighter about her slender body as the
rain increased, turning her away from the direction of the wind. "Did you
have a name in mind?"

She
sighed, feeling her fatigue as her emotions settled. "Not yet. But I will
spend my days contemplating a list of names for your approval."

"And
I shall look forward to it." Thankful his attempt to calm her had
succeeded, Richmond spurred his destrier into a jaunty canter to the front of
the column. Gavan was riding alone at the head, and he turned to look at
Richmond and Arissa as they rode up. One look at the lady's pleasant expression
and he knew that all was right in the world once again.

"Good
to see you again, my lady," he raised his visor, smiling.

Richmond
cut in before Arissa could reply. "There is a fork in the road about a
mile ahead. Veer to the right."

Gavan
nodded, still grinning at Arissa. "Aye, my lord. We are bound for
Whitby."

Arissa
was no longer concerned for her Yorkshire destination as she heard Gavan repeat
Richmond's orders. Instead, she smiled at the younger knight. "We are
going to select a parcel of land to build on," she informed him proudly.
"Richmond said that I could name our keep."

Gavan
bobbed his head in approval. "A wise decision. Women are much better with
names than men."

"I
disagree," Richmond said. "Men select names worthy of their glory,
while women tend to choose titles of home and hearth."

Arissa
cocked an eyebrow. "Are you saying, in effect, that I would saddle your
glorious keep with a name unworthy of your veneration?"

"Not
at all. But you must take my magnificent reputation into account when you make
your selection."

Her
eyes twinkled at Gavan as she replied to Richmond's arrogant statement. "I
have chosen a name already. We shall call our splendid new fortress Mother's
Lap."

Richmond
winced as Gavan laughed uproariously. "She knows you well, Richmond,"
Gavan snorted. "Why not call it Fool's Lair?"

"With
you lingering within the walls, that particular name would be fitting,"
Richmond retorted, returning his focus to Arissa. "As much as I would like
to consider your title for our fortress, I must ask that you amend your choice.
Surely there are other names that can be suggested."

She
smiled wearily, heavy-lidded as a result of her crying jag and the sway of the
horse. "I suppose I can think of something else, if I must."

Richmond
pulled her closer, wrapping the oiled tarp more tightly about her body as the
wind kicked up. "How gracious, my lady."

The
rain increased substantially as bolts of lightning began to light up the sky.
Cradled against Richmond, Arissa started in response to the addition of the
lightning, but Richmond casually glanced into the pounding night sky as if the
element was of little concern.

"We
will stop for the night to remove Arissa from this harsh climate," he said
to Gavan. "Oxford is another two hours."