Alas My Love by Tracie Peterson

tearful face to his and gazed deeply into her eyes. His lips were only inches from hers, the warmth of her breath was upon his face, and her tears now fell against his fingers. “Ah, sweet Arianne.” His words were nearly a moan. Slowly, with all the longing and passion that had followed him through the final months of Arianne’s confinement, Richard kissed her. Arianne returned the kiss, also uncaring that Helena sat only a few feet away.
    “Come below and see me off. Helena, bring Timothy and come, too.”
    Helena nodded and quickly retrieved the baby, grateful to be done with the emotional farewell scene.
    In the bailey, Richard’s men were restless to be on their way. They waited patiently while final instructions were issued and additional precautions were made against strangers approaching the castle. Hadn’t it been an overtrust of this peaceful existence, Richard had told them that had caused Arianne to fall into danger when Tancred had stormed the castle?
    Helena was rosy-cheeked and filled with emotion at the love she watched transpire between Arianne and her husband. Such love only comes to a person once, she thought as Richard bent from his horse to offer Arianne a final kiss. It was more than she could bear, and she looked away.
    Clutching Timothy tightly to her bosom, Helena could not fill the ache that grew there. The most immense ocean could not fill the void that left its mark so deeply engraved upon her heart.
    “Have courage, Wife,” Richard was calling, causing Helena to lift her head again. “When I return, I will bring your brother and mine as well. God will it to be so!”
    “Aye,” Arianne said with an earnest face. “God will it to be so!”
    “You will have all that you need. Seek out Sir Dwayne in any matter that you cannot resolve.” Richard’s words were said in the same authoritative manner he used with his men, and Helena knew all moments of tenderness between duke and duchess had passed.
    “God go with you, Richard,” Arianne said in parting.
    “And with you, Milady.”
    The little band watched until all riders had passed through the gatehouse and into the village. Arianne brushed away tears and noted that Helena seemed close to them herself.
    “We must surely be a sight,” she contended, and Helena nodded in agreement. “Come,” Arianne said, taking Timothy into her arms, “let us partake of something warm to fill the chill within.” But Helena knew that no refreshment would find its mark and ease what ailed them.
    They climbed the stone steps to the great hall, and Arianne motioned Matilda to her side.
    “We seek refreshment against the dampness and chill. Would you bring it to my solar?” Arianne requested.
    “Of course, Milady,” Matilda said with the slightest nod.
    Arianne noted two servants squabbling in the corner of the room and, without thought, handed Timothy to Helena and motioned her to the stairs. “Wait for me in my chamber,” she bade. “I will see to this matter.”
    Helena was grateful for the reprieve. She lovingly took Timothy in hand and carefully made her way upstairs. Noting Timothy’s growing agitation, Helena realized it had been some time since he’d received a changing.
    Placing the babe in his cradle, Helena drew water from the ever-filled hearth pot. She tested it to make certain it was neither too hot nor too cold, then poured it into a basin and added rose oil. Her final act before retrieving the squalling Timothy was to pull out new swaddling and a fine linen drying cloth from a nearby chest. This was a procedure she repeated every three hours during the day.
    Without giving thought to what she was doing, Helena began to sing a song of love. It was the first time she’d lifted her voice in song since her mother had died. Now, for a reason beyond her understanding, Helena not only desired to sing, she found that her heart demanded she do so.
    The lyrical notes filled the room and joined with Timothy’s cries, which immediately