Chapter Eighteen
Gaston put off their departure for an entire week.
He had troops to train, a keep to run, and had little if any time for the papal envoy.
The fat little man was outraged at the delays, and since Gaston refused to see him, he managed to corner Remington one day in the downstairs corridor and lay into her like an enraged father.
Remington, deeply upset by the man’s words, ran straight to Gaston and found him outside with his new soldiers. It was early afternoon and the hot August sun beat down upon the suffering males as they went through their paces.
The knights were out of armor, stripped naked to the waist as they paced among the columns of men as they practiced quick placement of shields. The troops were in mail, sweating rivers, and already they had lost half a dozen men to heat exhaustion.
Remington stood by the inner bailey gates, her misty eyes searching for Gaston. He was not difficult to locate; the largest man by far in the middle of a collection of men, his bronzed skin and red-kissed shoulders standing a head and a half above the rest.
Arik caught sight of her before Gaston did and greeted her pleasantly. The two had developed a genuine like for each other within the past week.
“What brings you out here on this hellish day, madam?” he asked.
“I must speak with Gaston,” she said, wiping daintily at her nose. “That damnable envoy just gave me an earful in the hall. I would tell Gaston.”
Arik frowned. “Was he deliberately rude? Was he harsh?”
She was verging on a pout. “He’s an arrogant little bastard. Is Gaston too busy to speak with me now, Arik?”
“Never,” Arik bade her to stay where she was as he sought Gaston on her behalf.
Watching him walk toward her across the hot, dusty bailey brought a rush of warmth to her cheeks.
He moved so gracefully and with such presence that she felt her knees go weak at the mere sight of him.
I want for you to be my husband. The familiar chant filled her, only this time he echoed the sentiment. He was hers.
“What’s amiss, angel?” he asked with concern. “Arik said you were upset?”
She nodded. “The envoy cornered me not a few minutes ago and demanded that I be ready to leave by the morning. He says he will not wait any longer; if I am not ready to leave on the morrow, he will return to London alone and tell Henry that you deliberately disobeyed the king. I think he means what he says, Gaston.”
Gaston’s face hardened. She could see him thinking, for his eyes took on a distant look even though he was focused on her. “Where is he now?”
“Inside,” she flipped her hand carelessly in the general direction of the castle. “Somewhere. I hope he trips on his ecclesiastical robes and breaks his neck.”
He grunted, a half grin on his lips. “I shall speak with him. Go inside now, love. ’Tis too hot outside for you.”
She sighed, glancing up at the brilliant blue sky. “I cannot remember such heat. Rory wants to go swimming; will that be very well?”
Gaston glanced over his shoulder at his men, nodding faintly. “I suppose I could spare Nicolas to take you.”
“Thank you,” she said, dragging her hand over her forehead. She had not taken three steps away from him when she suddenly stopped and faced him.
His eyebrows drew together at the faint smile suddenly playing on her lips. “What?”
She gave him a sly look, one of her very best.
“Congratulations, father.”
He forgot all about his men, the bailey, the keep, the envoy, and the king. He was on her in one stride. “Are you sure?”
She smiled and nodded her head slowly. “Oh, yes!”
He stared at her. Then, the smallest of twitches tugged at the corner of his mouth. He had not allowed himself to think on the prospect since they had last spoke of it because he did not want to be disappointed. Listening to her confirmation was almost more than he could take. “Honestly?”
“Come early April, I will bear you a son,” she said confidently.
He could show no outward signs of his joy, he knew that distinctly. But, God help him, he wanted to shout and jump and hug everyone he could get his hands on. Including and fore mostly Remington. He was struggling so to contain himself that he started to shake and Remington noticed.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, suddenly concerned.
“Nothing, Remi,” he cleared his throat and stood back from her; he was dangerously close to displaying his joy in front of a thousand men. “Go inside now. I shall send Nicolas to you.”
She blinked. No thanks? No words of joy? “Aren’t you happy?”
He let out a choked gasp, taking another step away from her and raking his fingers through his hair to keep it back.
A nervous smile burst forth as he gazed at her.
“Remi, I am closer now than I ever have been in my life to breaking protocol and taking you into my arms. Too close! Go inside before I lose all control and ravish you in front of my men.”
She grinned in return. “Then you are happy.”
He could only manage an unsteady nod. “Aye, happy. Happier than you will ever know, angel. In fact, I shall show you just how happy I am later in private.”
She understood and proceeded to head back toward the castle, turning every so often to glance back at him. He still stood where she left him, staring at her as if she were the Virgin Mary.
*
“You are pregnant?” Jasmine gasped loudly.
Remington shushed her harshly as Mary played at their feet. “Not a word, Jassy. Promise me. No one knows but Gaston and I.”
Jasmine, her eyes wide as the sky, nodded with disbelief. “Oh, Remi… I am so happy for you. But….”
“But what?” Remington demanded.
Jasmine looked as if her eyes were going to pop from her skull. “I am pregnant, too.”
“What?” Remington exploded.
“And so is Skye.”
“What?” Remington found herself screaming.
“Remi!” Jasmine yelled back, pleadingly.
Remington collapsed on the bed behind her, her face glazed with shock, “You? Skye? My baby sisters?”
Jasmine nodded unsteadily, measuring her sister’s reaction.
Remington was as shocked as she had ever seen her, her beautiful face pale and her eyes wide.
Then, suddenly, she bubbled out a choke of laughter.
“And I was worried about the serving wenches,” she said lamely.
“I was worried about all of the bastards we would have come spring, and look at us. ’Tis us I should have worried over. ”
Jasmine smiled timidly, watching her sister as she shook her head in disbelief. “Antonius has been praying for a son ever since he found out. What about Gaston?”
Remington shook her head, still dazed. “I do not know. When he spoke of the baby, he referred to it as his son. Of course he wants a son.”
“Skye is frightened, which is why she did not tell you,” Jasmine said. “Not even Nicolas knows.”
Remington looked sharply at her sister. “He does not? She must tell him.”
“She will,” Jasmine said quietly. “But I promised her that I would break the news to you.”
Remington stood up. The supper hour was growing near and soon they would be required in the grand hall.
She went to her wardrobe and drew forth a beautiful surcoat of scarlet silk as her little niece toddled after her.
When she laid the surcoat on the bed, the baby pulled it down on the floor and rolled around in it.
“Mary.” Jasmine extracted her daughter from the surcoat as Remington undid the stays of her dress.
“Leave her be, Jassy,” she said with a faint smile. “We must become used to young ones around here again. By summer, there will be three more to add.”
Jasmine smiled as Mary began to tug on the coverlet, trying to pull it down on the floor as well. “I am so happy, Remi. Happier than I have ever been in my whole life.”
“I can tell,” Remington gazed fondly at her sister as she lifted the scarlet dress over her head. “It shows on your face.”
Jasmine helped her with the surcoat. “When are you leaving for London?”
Remington lost her smile and her mood. She had told her sisters everything, of course, and the women were devastated. No one had mentioned the subject in almost a week.
“The envoy wants to leave tomorrow,” she said softly. “Gaston said he would speak with him.”
Her eyes met with her sister’s, fear and terror and apprehension passing between them. “I am scared for you, Remi,” Jasmine whispered. “What if Gaston is unable to keep you from Guy?”
“He won’t let Guy near me, I promise you,” Remington said with more confidence than she felt. “He is the Dark Knight, is he not? The king will grant him anything he asks.”
Mary began to fuss and Jasmine swept her daughter into her arms. “She’s hungry. I must take her to her nurse,” she moved for the door, pausing in the archway. “Remi… you shall come home soon, won’t you? You won’t stay in London long?”
“Long enough to obtain an annulment,” Remington replied.
“Do not worry, Jassy. You shall see your nephew before he grows old enough to foster.”
Jasmine smiled and quit the room, a sense of foreboding filling her like nothing she had ever sensed.
Dinner was a lively occasion. As Remington and her sisters helped serve the knights, there seemed to be a special aura filling the air that had not been there before.
Warmth, affection, comfort…’twas difficult to describe, but it existed nonetheless.
Nicolas watched Skye, Patrick watched Rory, Antonius watched Jasmine, and Gaston could not take his eyes from Remington.
In the clear scarlet, she was positively the most beautiful woman he had ever gazed upon and he felt extremely fortunate.