Great Protector (7 page)

Richmond
swallowed hard. With the greatest reluctance, one massive arm snaked around
Arissa's slender waist while the other held her arm still. He could feel her
shaking violently underneath his grasp. Or mayhap it was his own quivering. He
couldn't tell.

"That's
the way, my lord," Mossy said softly, all of the fire suddenly gone from
his tone. "Hold her tightly. Very tightly."

The
old man began to carefully apply a salve that had a burnt smell to it. He
seemed to be putting a good deal of time and concern into a task that could
have just as easily been accomplished in a few seconds. Richmond watched,
Arissa quivered, as Mossy continued to stroke her arm gently.

"Hold
her still now," Mossy said, replacing the cork in the salve bottle and moving
to place it in his bag. He continued to rummage about in his satchel for some
time while Richmond maintained Arissa in a motionless position.

Seconds
stretched into minutes as Mossy busied himself in his bag. Richmond could smell
Arissa's gardenias and they threatened to undo him. Her waist, slim and long,
was barely an armful for him, and her rounded buttocks seated on his hard
thighs was mayhap the greatest torture he had ever known.

'Twas
silly, truthfully. He couldn't count the time that Arissa had sat on his lap,
giggling as he tickled her or sleeping peacefully in his arms. When she had
been very small, she almost always fell asleep in his arms. She was afraid of
the dark and he had made her feel safe. Odd, he thought, that a situation that
had occurred habitually for several years was suddenly the most erotic event he
could ever recall.

If
Richmond was feeling vastly peculiar, it was nothing compared to Arissa's slow
death. To feel him touching her, holding her, was bliss beyond compare. She'd
been in this position before,  seated on his lap while he told stories of
battle or tales of fairies. She'd always relished the feel of him, the comfort
of his closeness. But at this moment, she wished she were seated anywhere but
upon his lap.

She
knew he could feel her emotions, seeping through her skin and infecting him. He
had always been highly intuitive of her emotions and she was positive he knew
her innermost feelings. For the sake of her foolish emotions, she had never
been more ashamed.

Mossy
was spending an excessive amount of time digging through his bag. Arissa sat
like a stone and Richmond's palms were beginning to sweat.

"What
are you doing?" Richmond finally asked, his voice strangely tight.

Mossy
did not say anything for a moment. Then, he chuckled. "God's Teeth. I have
forgotten." He suddenly closed his bag and flashed them a toothless smile.
"Sleep with the arm exposed to the air tonight, Riss. The salve should
ease the pain and there is less of a chance that the wounds will blister."

Richmond
and Arissa watched, open-mouthed, as Mossy escaped the bower as silently and as
swiftly as he had entered. Richmond swore he caught a glimmer of mischief in
the aged brown eyes.

The
bower door was left ajar. Arissa, acutely aware of Richmond's heated body
against her, felt her cheeks flushing mightily. As discreetly as she could
manage, she slipped from his lap and nearly stumbled in her haste to put
distance between them.

Richmond
watched her, disappointed and relieved at the same time. Clearly, there was no
mistaking the flush to her cheeks and he knew it was because she was angry with
him. Angry he had clutched he so intimately, angry that his manners had been
sorely lacking. Had Mossy not interrupted them when he did, there was no
telling how badly he would have behaved.

What
puzzled him, however, was why Mossy returned them to a position that was nearly
as intimate as the first. With Arissa sitting on his lap, clutched against his
chest, it was almost as if Mossy wanted them to be close. As if suspected what
was occurring within Richmond's heart and sought to torture him. Crazy old
bastard.

He
rose from the chair, clearing his throat. "Does it feel better?"

She
nodded, unable to look at him. "Soothed, at least."

He
gazed at her dark head, wondering if he should apologize for their close
contact. He'd never apologized for all of the innocent occasions in which she
had been enfolded in his arms, or seated upon his thighs. Why should he
apologize for something that was completely natural?

"Riss,
are you all right?" Regine was suddenly in the doorway, her blue eyes wide
at her older sister.

Arissa
smiled bravely at the younger girl, relieved with the diversion.  Richmond's
presence had her shaken. "Fine, Regine. Mossy put a bit of slime on my arm
that should heal it properly."

Regine's
eyes were big on Richmond. "You saved Bart."

He
smiled wearily at the girl. "I prevented him from breaking his artful
neck."

"He
has a bruise on his bottom the size of a melon," Regine said happily.
"Mother thinks he has ruptured a vein."

Richmond
snorted. "More than likely he’s managed to damage his brain, considering
his intelligence is lodged in his arse," when Regine giggled, he patted
her fondly on the head. "Let me guess, you curiously little wench. You saw
the bruise, did you not?"

"Or
course I did," Regine tossed her long blond hair flippantly.

Richmond
shook his head reprovingly. "I was hoping you would outgrow this intensely
curious phase you have been going through, but I see that I have been wrong. I
told you no more spying on the soldiers, no more kissing the serving wenches in
order to learn their techniques, and you were not to demand explicit stories
from the stable boys any longer."

Regine
avoided his gaze, wandering over to her older sister. "I do not kiss the
serving wenches any longer. Just the boys. I am developing my own
techniques."

"No
more of that. I shall blister you again if I have to."

Regine
hid herself behind Arissa, pressing against her sister's back in hopes of
evading Richmond's piercing stare. "You are not my father."

"Hmm,"
Richmond cocked a dark eyebrow. "I have kept your disgraceful secrets long
enough; any more tales of your promiscuous streak and your father shall know
the truth of it. You are too wild for you own good, Regine Margaret. 'Twould do
you well to learn to behave as your elder sister does."

Regine's
plump arms wound around Arissa's waist. It looked as if the eldest sibling had
grown a new pair of limbs. Richmond met Arissa's gaze, unguarded now that she
was no longer the focus of his attention. Silently, she implored him to ease
his assault against the inquisitive young girl.

As
always, he would do as she asked, audibly expressed or not. He'd always given
in to her desires without a struggle.  It did not prevent him, however, from
giving Arissa a long look as he moved towards the door.

"My
lady, I shall leave you to retire. Next time, you would do well to heed my
orders so that you do not find yourself injured," he peered around Arissa,
meeting Regine's pouting gaze. "Good eve to you, my lady."

His
boot falls faded down the hall. Arissa stood in the center of the room, her
sister wound around her waist as if the raven-haired beauty could protect her
from Richmond's wrath. Regine had always been terrified of the massive knight
with the deep, growling voice. Especially when he disapproved of her slightly
perverted juvenile experimentation.

But
Arissa had never been terrified of him. At least, not in the literal sense.
Even though her arm throbbed with burn and her head swam with confusion, she was
not nearly as shaken as she had been moments before. In fact, she was aware of
a rather pleasant mood settling.

Something
had occurred, although she was not sure what, exactly. The only element she was
able to decipher was the fact that Richmond's touch had gone beyond the usual
fatherly gesture. And his beautiful eyes, barely lined with his age, had spoken
to her. Words she had never heard before.

Oddly,
her confusion and shame gave way to a most unexpected smile.

CHAPTER
THREE

Arissa
awoke to the sound of Richmond's voice. Rolling over in bed, she thought mayhap
he was in the corridor speaking to the servants. It took her a moment to
realize that he was out in the bailey, shouting orders to the troops.

She
lay still a moment, listening to his voice and feeling herself wash with the
familiar pride she had come to associate with Richmond. He was so mighty, so
massive and powerful, and he controlled hundreds of men with absolutely no
effort at all. They nearly knocked themselves over in their eagerness to
complete his bidding.

She
would have been quite happy to have lounged in bed all morn, listening to the
sound of his voice. But Penelope, Emma and Regine had other ideas; suddenly,
her bower door flew open and a huge copper tub was being shoved across the
scrubbed floor. As Arissa sat up in bed, Penelope and Emma had several servants
filling the vat with steaming water as Regine emerged into the chamber,
carrying the surcoat that would adorn her sister this day.

"Do
not get water on it, Regine!" Emma scolded as she passed too close to the
tub. "The silk will stain!"

Regine
stuck her tongue out at the older girl and proceeded to hang the surcoat, very
carefully, on the wardrobe.

Arissa
sighed with satisfaction at the sight of her new surcoat; of two-color silk,
the very latest fashion, it was a form-fitting piece of green fabric with the
contrasting shade being a pale, iridescent green. The scoop neckline clung to
her delicate shoulders while the long, wide sleeves nearly swept the ground
when she walked. A silver link belt with four rough emeralds would adorn her
slim waist.

Regine
stood back and admired the surcoat with satisfaction. "'Twill be
magnificent with your eyes, Riss."

Arissa
refused to waste any time. Leaping from the bed, she plunged into the scalding
water and was the prompt recipient of a completely brutal scrubbing. Penelope
washed her hair while Emma and Regine soaped her body, all of them chattering
endlessly on the silliest of subjects. But the most prevalent topic,
understandably, was the excitement of the day.

"I
have heard Tad de Rydal is most dashing," Emma said with a hint of hope.
"I have not heard if he’s betrothed. Have you, Riss?"

Arissa
shook her black head, wild and untamed with Penelope's drying. "I have not
heard a lick about him. Pen?"

Penelope's
reply was interrupted by Regine's pondering. "I wonder what it would be
like to kiss him. I wonder if his buttocks are as fuzzy as Bart's."

Emma
shrieked while Arissa and Penelope erupted into giggles. "No kissing,
Regine," Arissa reminded her sternly. "Remember what Richmond
said."

Regine
thrust her chin up and turned away. "He’s not my lord and master. I do not
have to listen to him."

"You'd
better," Emma said with a smirk. "Certainly you remember what happened
when he caught you in the livery with the stable servant. Neither you nor the
boy could sit for a week."

The
three older girls giggled at Regine's expense. Always defiant, Regine scowled
at the three of them. "It was worth the spanking to learn the feel of a
man's tongue against my...."

The
smiles, the giggling, immediately ceased. Three pairs of huge, rounded eyes
stared at the twelve-year-old. Only Arissa was brave enough to ask.

"Against
your
what
?"

Regine
was usually quite proud of her growing list of experiences. But gazing at the
expressions of the older women, she was suddenly regretful for her outburst.
With a faint flush mottling her ears, she finished scrubbing Arissa's foot.

"Surely
you have kissed a man, Riss. Sometimes they kiss with their tongues."

Arissa
shook her head slowly. "I have never kissed a man. Sweet St. Jude, Regine,
you are only twelve. Why must you be so eager to indulge in adult
pleasures?"

Regine's
hot gaze came up from her task. "Because I want to know. And I shall
learn, any way I can so that my prospective husband will not be displeased that
I am ignorant."

"Your
prospective husband will not want a trollop that has seen service like a
well-used horse."

"You
only say that because you must enter the cloister. You must be pure 'else God
will not want you," she turned her attention to Penelope. "Surely you
have kissed Daniel. Has not he kissed you with his tongue?"

Penelope
flushed a dull red and abruptly turned away, fumbling with the linen towels.
Arissa passed a glance at her startled friend. "What Daniel and Penelope
do is none of your affair, Regine. Moreover...."

But
Regine was ignoring her sister. Instead, she was on her feet, her blue eyes
fully focused on the blushing maiden. "I have watched you and Daniel at
times. In fact, I followed the two of you the other night when you left the
dining hall early. He took you into the stable and...."

Penelope
suddenly whirled around, her face bright and flushed. "Regine! How dare you..!"