Chapter Thirty-Six
It was late afternoon when Gaston and his small escort rode into the cramped bailey of Ripley Castle.
The sun was hot, the air dusty around him, but he wasn’t aware of anything other than the fact Remington was within these old walls.
He was completely focused as Sir Adam led him to the stairs of the castle.
Gaston’s gaze was locked to the structure, as if he could look through the stone and find Remington inside.
Minutes seemed like hours, long and drawn out as their separation drew to a close.
The closer he came, the more time expanded as if to torture him just a bit more.
It was enough to drive him insane as he approached the entrance to the castle, his desperate eyes seeking what his heart so desperately sought.
He did not have to look any further. As soon as his boot hit the bottom step of the structure, a flash of scarlet silk came bolting out of the open front door. He barely had time to look up as Remington hurled herself at him, hitting him so hard that he grunted and stumbled off the step.
“Gaston!”
His arms went around her reflexively, shocked at first, but transforming into wild delight.
Her hair was in his face, in his mouth, caught in the joints of his neck armor and the wonderful fragrance of soap and wildflowers assaulted his senses.
Her warmth in his hands was the most comforting sensation he had ever known.
He had never been so damn thankful for anything in his whole life.
“Remi!” he gasped, squeezing her fiercely. “Oh, God, are you all right?”
She nodded vigorously, still clinging to him, refusing to loosen her hold. Gaston clutched her to his armored chest, relief running rampant in his limbs and rendering him as weak as a kitten. Yet in the same breath, he had never felt so strong nor whole.
He simply held her, no words between them. Their embrace said everything that needed saying. His pain faded more and more with each successive breath.
He lost track of time, holding her protectively, thanking God over and over for her safety. The feelings wreaking havoc in his soul were indescribable.
Somewhere, someone cleared his throat and Gaston was aware that there were others standing about, observing the touching scene.
Reluctantly, he set Remington to stand, pulling strands of her hair free from his armor.
Much to his surprise, she was smiling at him, tears of joy in the sea-crystal depths.
As emotional as she was, he had expected days of hysterics at their reunion and was pleased to see that she was controlling herself.
It made it far easier on him to deal with his own emotions if she were rational.
He smiled back, ignoring the group crowding around them. “Are you sure you are all right, angel? He did not…?”
She shook her head, stopping his line of questions. “I am fine, my love. Truly.”
His great hands were touching her face, her hair, relieved beyond words.
As long as she appeared fine and untouched, he would not press.
But when they were alone, he would know every gory detail.
There were a million questions he wanted to ask her, but they would all have to wait.
The only thing that mattered was that she was safe.
Alex Ingilsby stood several feet behind her, smiling openly at Gaston. When their eyes met, the baron shrugged. “She’s been rooted to the windows for the past six hours, waiting for you. When I heard her running down the stairs, I knew of your arrival. Call it intuition.”
Gaston grinned, patting Remington affectionately. “I am forever in your debt, my lord. I cannot adequately express my gratitude for what you have done for Remi and myself. Had it not been for you….”
Ingilsby shook his head. “I had nothing to do with this, my lord. ’Twas Hugh’s doing, all of it, and it is he you should thank.”
Hubert stood at the door of the castle, his handsome face expressionless.
He had watched the entire scene unfold and had experienced a distinct stab of…
something, he wasn’t sure. Jealousy? Envy?
Sorrow? Something he could not quite isolate, but it depressed him nonetheless.
When the duke’s gaze found him, he tried his best not to let his confusion show.
Gaston took the steps, keeping Remington clutched to his side. He walked past Ingilsby, focusing on the captain. He had fully intended to thank the man but mere thanks seemed grossly insufficient. He struggled for a brief moment.
“To thank you appears quite deficient. I should offer you my life, my wealth at the very least,” Remington hugged him tightly and he glanced down at her dark head, returning soft eyes back to Hubert.
“I am grateful, Hugh. Never consider any request too great to ask of me. I shall do everything within my power to repay you for your loyalty.”
Hubert nodded faintly, humbled with the adoration of the Dark One.
“I have always been loyal to you, my lord, since the days of Edward. When we met at the tourney last year, I was surprised you remembered the green young upstart, newly knighted, serving his king,” he looked at Remington, positively glowing in Gaston’s arms. “What I did, any man would have done. It was nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Not true,” Remington insisted, turning to Gaston. “Guy tried to sell my services as a whore and it was only by luck that Hugh was the prospective client. He helped me escape and fought off ten robbers during our journey here. He is far too modest, Gaston. He’s a hero.”
Gaston looked at the knight with astonished eyes. “Is this true?”
Hubert swallowed, flushing slightly at Remington’s praise. “There were only five robbers, my lord, unskilled and wild. ’Twas not a difficult match, but I worried greatly for the lady’s safety.”
But Remington was not finished with her honors; Hubert was being far too modest in her opinion. “Two of them grabbed me and tried to molest me, but Hugh killed them both, even after he had already killed two attackers. He was magnificent, Gaston, truly. He is far too humble.”
Gaston’s arm tightened on Remington, listening to her relay the horrors of her journey.
“And in Stanford-on-Avon, he bought me when Guy tried to sell me as a whore,” she continued, looking to Hubert.
“Hugh recognized me and paid Guy a good deal, explaining that he wanted me for several hours. It bought us time to escape.”
Gaston looked to Hubert again, his face taut with emotion. “There are no words to express my thanks, Hugh. I am forever in your debt.”
Hubert bowed awkwardly, not knowing what else to do. He was uncomfortable and flattered at the same time. “Simply upholding the code of chivalry, my lord.”
It was far beyond that and they both knew it, but Gaston kept silent. He had never been very good at expressing himself, and left it at that.
Even as Ingilsby led them inside, Remington continued to relate their adventure to Gaston.
He held her close, listening intently to every word.
Alex took them to the grand dining hall where a sumptuous spread had been lain out in honor of the duke’s arrival.
But in faith, Gaston had no appetite, and more so after hearing the traumatic tale Remington was relating to him.
Yet as a courtesy to his host, he sat and accepted a full goblet of premium wine, still listening to Remington talk.
And as she talked, he watched her face with loving eyes, still stunned at the rapid turn of fortune. She was returned to him, where she belonged, and he was deeply grateful to the knight who risked his life to help her.
Eager to be alone with her, he spent a nominal amount of time in the dining hall before excusing them both into a small solar near the entrance to the castle.
Remington held his hand tightly, even as they entered the room and he closed the door behind him.
When he turned to her, it was to kiss her forehead reverently.
“God, I still cannot believe I have you back,” he whispered. “I thought…I did not know when I would see you again, angel.”
She smiled bravely. “I would have found a way to escape him.”
He held her at arm’s length, studying her. Really studying her. Remington gazed at him openly and watched his face darken.
“You have a bruise on your face,” he said softly. “Did he do that?”
Her hand flew to her face unconsciously. “Aye.”
A muscle in Gaston’s cheek twitched. “I want to hear everything, Remi. Not the pretty story you gave me in the dining hall. I want to hear every little detail of what happened. How did Guy abduct you?”
Her happy mood faded and she sank into the nearest chair.
“He wore a papal guard’s tunic. He sent a soldier up to my rooms to tell me that the papal council wanted to speak with me, and when Patrick brought me down he was waiting for me.
Only I did not know it was him until….” Her eyes filled with tears and she wiped quickly at them.
“Until he killed Patrick. I do not know how we got out of the Tower, because he knocked me unconscious. I did not come to until we were nearly out of London.”
Gaston’s smoky eyes went to black with rage. “He killed Patrick? You saw this?”
She nodded, sniffling. “Guy dropped something and when Patrick bent over to pick it up, he stabbed him.”
Gaston clenched his teeth, absorbing the information. He could see how upset she was becoming and put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, angel. Go on with your story.”
She told him everything, including the beatings that seemed endless. She watched his face after she told him, seeing the veins on his neck pump furiously. By the time she was finished, Gaston held no particular expression although he was sweating profusely. She watched him with eager eyes.
He stood there a long while after she finished and she was slowly dying inside, wishing he would scold her or rage or react somehow. Anything but silence. It was enough to kill her.