Chapter Twenty #5
“You did,” Remington shot back with seething fury. “You said her child is not yours. You may not have called her a whore in words, but you intimated it.”
“I…damnation!” He hissed, turning away from her.
He had always had a difficult time controlling his passions.
He was shocked and angered by the news, the ensuing conversation.
He faced her again, slowly. “I never meant to call her a whore. I would never call her that, for it would be untrue. But I swear to you on my mother’s grave that I never actually …
.” He made hand gestures, trying to describe what he could not bring himself to say in front of a lady.
When she continued to stare at him, hurt, he gave up his charades.
“I never penetrated her. I will admit we did everything but the act itself; she was afraid to go any further.”
Remington’s face was pale with emotion. They were both calming somewhat, but she was still shaken. “Nicolas, my husband took her virtue when she was eleven years old. Of course she is afraid to bed with a man. Did she not tell you any of this?”
“She did,” he sagged, his shock settling in. “I never pressured her in any way. Honestly, Remington, I do not know how she could be pregnant if we have never been together.”
“That is Lady Remington to you,” Gaston came up behind them, his face like stone. One look at his expression told both Remington and Nicolas that he had seen their anger, their gestures, and was greatly displeased. “Away, Nicolas. I will deal with you in a moment.”
Nicolas bowed away without another word. Gaston’s gaze was hostile on his cousin and Remington could see that his anger was not focused on her, but on the knight.
“Do not be harsh with him, Gaston,” she said softly. “He was shocked and upset. Our argument was harmless.”
“You struck him,” Gaston focused on her. “I would hardly call that harmless. What did he say to offend you?”
She shook her head, lowering her gaze. “Nothing, truly. I was meddling again and he took offense to me. I should not have struck him.”
“Look at me,” he commanded. Her head snapped up and his eyes focused on her intently. “What happened?”
She sighed and went through the entire conversation, waiting for Gaston’s reprimand. When she finished, his expression was the same as it had been when she started.
“The lad is a fool,” he muttered.
“I agree. Does not he know that she can become pregnant even though he did not actually bed her?”
“Apparently not,” Gaston replied. “I cannot believe that he is so naive. But he is correct, madam, when he says this is none of your business.”
She went from being remorseful to bristling. “My sister’s welfare is my business, Gaston. I shall not apologize for loving her and wanting to look out for her.”
“You said yourself you were meddling,” he reminded her. “I do not blame Nicolas for becoming angry.”
She crossed her arms stubbornly. “Someone had to tell him. Since Skye was obviously tongue-tied, I felt it my duty.”
He raised his eyebrow at her. “Let your sister and my cousin handle their own relationship, Remi. They do not need your help.”
She looked away from him, hurt and angry all over again. He eyed her, inadvertently reminded of their encounter before dawn and his limbs grew warm and tingling. But he chased the giddiness away, misplaced as it was.
“How are you enjoying the trip?” he asked, trying to shift the focus of the conversation.
She jutted her chin defiantly. “Do not change the subject. Are you going to speak with Nicolas or shall I?”
He took her chin between his fingers and turned her to look at him. “I will not tolerate this insolent behavior. You do not make demands, madam.”
She wasn’t very good at making demands or standing her ground.
She looked into Gaston’s eyes and was intimidated by the mere fact that he was a man.
Even though she knew Gaston would slit his own throat rather than raise a hand to her, somewhere in the back of her mind she saw Guy bringing up a hand and striking her senseless.
Fear flickered in her eyes like a frightened animal and she yanked from his grasp, stumbling back a couple of steps. He caught a brief glimpse of the panic and was not overly puzzled by it. He had seen it before in her.
“I am sorry, Gaston,” she whispered quickly. “I did not mean to sound rebellious.”
His heart softened for her. He reached out and grasped her hand.
“Do not be silly, Remi. You could never be remotely rebellious, and even if you were, I’d do nothing more than yell at you.
” He smiled gently, for he could see she was truly afraid.
“You know me better than to imagine I would ever lash out at you. Correct?”
She blinked, calming and feeling a bit foolish for her behavior. “Aye, I know that,” she swallowed, looking about for Nicolas. “I must apologize to Nicolas for intruding in his affairs. I truly meant no harm.”
“He knows that, and so do I,” Gaston caressed her hand with his thick glove. “But you have got to realize your sisters are grown women with minds of their own. They are no longer children who need your guidance.”
She flashed him a regretful look. “’Tis difficult to think in those terms. I have been mothering them since I was ten.”
“I am well aware of that,” he said patiently, his eyes warm. “Speaking of which, did Nicolas feed you properly?”
“He did,” she nodded. “Where were you?”
“I had a few things to attend to,” he replied evasively, but she did not catch the tone. “We will stop tonight, but if we are on the road early tomorrow morn, we should reach London before noon. I have already sent a messenger ahead notifying Henry of our arrival.”
She gazed up at him, looking like a fresh peach tart. He wanted to take a bite. “Good Lord, Gaston, I can hardly believe we will be seeing Henry himself. It seems as if a dream to meet the king of England.”
“You never met Richard?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not him, nor Edward, either. Guy was not privileged enough to be included in the courtly circle.”
“You belong in the courtly circle,” he said softly. “You are by far the most beautiful woman in the realm. The other wenches will be highly jealous of you.”
She giggled. “Do not tease me.”
“I never tease,” he said. “I am completely sincere when I say that every woman at Windsor will be hateful of your beauty. And I will be beating off the men endlessly,” he suddenly looked thoughtful. “By damn, the convent is looking more and more attractive.”
She snickered again, flattered. Pleased to see her smiling, he held out his arm to her. “We have delayed overly. Allow me to escort you back to the den of gamblers so that we may be on our way.”
“Den of gamblers? Who told you such lies?” she asked innocently as he led her across the sweet grass toward the road.
“De Tormo,” he said flatly. “The man is ill with eating under-ripe apples. Really, Remi; how cruel.”
She gave him a sinister grin, looking away coyly. He was completely captivated by the gesture, but shook his finger at her. “Leave the priest alone. No more playing for apples. We need de Tormo and I shall not have you killing him with foul food.”
Her good humor restored, she bowed submissively. “I swear it, Oh Dark One. No more playing for apples.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No more playing for anything. Do your needlework like a good little girl.”
“But I like to play Hearts,” she insisted. “Can I continue to play if we do not play for winnings? Please?”
He opened the carriage door. “Get in before I take my hand to your backside, you naughty wench.”
She obeyed, pausing a moment. “You shall apologize to Nicolas for me, please? Tell him… tell him I overstepped myself and I am sorry. And explain the ways of breeding to him, for God’s sake.”
He nodded. “I will, madam, have no fear. It makes me wonder how many other wenc… oh, never mind.”
She knew what he was going to say and raised her eyebrows threateningly. Without another word, she seated herself comfortably and he walked away, turning one more time to give her a subtle wink. Remington sighed dreamily.
Up at the front of the column, Gaston mounted Taran. “Did you see any further signs, Matts?”
The knight next to him shook his head. He was older and had served Gaston since the days of Edward. “Nay, my lord,” he replied. “If there are bandits about, they have since vacated. They would be fools to attack a fully armed column of men.”
“But there were several campfires,” Gaston adjusted his reins. “Which would lead me to believe that there are a great number of renegades. Keep the men alert just the same. Nicolas.”
Matts turned away, being replaced by Gaston’s cousin. “Aye, Gaston?”
Gaston gave him a critical look before lowering his visor. “You will assign ten men-at-arms to surround the carriage carrying Lady Remington and the priest. I want you to ride back there with her until we have passed through this gauntlet of forest. Understood?”
“Aye, my lord,” Nicolas almost breathed a sigh of relief; he was expecting to be reamed for raising his voice to Remington. In fact, he was still expecting some sort of punishment. “What’s the matter?”
“Matts found signs of transients in the forest, probably bandits, or worse,” Gaston replied, scanning the tree line. “I want the lady well protected should we fall under attack.”
“Aye, my lord,” Nicolas turned away, digging into his saddlebag to retrieve his dagger. He drew forth the sleek, bejeweled weapon and examined it with satisfaction. Before tucking it into his gauntlet, almost as an afterthought, he unsheathed the weapon to inspect the blade.
Thick, gooey honey dripped from the blade and oozed from the sheath. Nicolas did not move fast enough and honey dripped onto his gauntlet, seeping into the joints. He cursed loudly, holding the knife aloft and away from the rest of him while the honey dribbled to the dirt.
“Damnation. Ror…!” His head snapped up to Gaston, his eyes wide. “Christ, Gaston. I have just cursed a dead woman.”