Chapter Eight #9
He was measured and firm and she was completely lost. If this was what being a mistress meant, such pleasure and comfort, then she would gladly be his mistress for the rest of their lives. Marriage was a horrible, cold thing; being illicit lovers was something beyond wonderful.
He heard her swift panting and knew she was close to her release.
He shifted himself slightly and put his hand where their bodies were joined, probing her taut little bud of pleasure.
Pinching the nub between his fingers, he squeezed gently and Remington peeled off a loud scream.
His mouth descended swiftly on hers to block out the remainder of the cry as he felt her honeyed walls throb and suck at him as she found her release.
From the intensity of the scream, he knew she had never before experienced her pleasure and he was surprised and pleased; it was almost as if she were a virgin, in a sense.
Remington wasn’t sure what had happened.
All that she knew was that she had felt such rapturous pleasure as she had never had before sampled and she was dazed.
What black magic had he done to make her feel like a boneless, warm lump of flesh?
The man had brought her loins to a roaring blaze and then doused the fire with the most amazing sorcery.
He cradled her tightly and she clung to him, trying to slow her breathing.
Her body was relaxed, warm, and comforted; she had never felt so wonderful in her entire life.
If there was any doubt, any reserve about loving this man, they were gone.
She wanted to talk to him, demand to know what he did to her, but her eyes closed against his amazing warmth and before she realized it, she was dead asleep. And so was he.
*
She rode in the wagon on the trip back to Mt. Holyoak. Dane rode with Antonius, clearing a space for her on the wagon between Skye and Rory. Gaston rode up ahead of them astride Taran, quite alone, as his knights and soldiers lingered behind.
It was a warm July morning. The sky was bluer than Remington had ever seen it and the birds somehow more musical.
Her heart was light, her mood gay, and she couldn’t ever remember being happier.
It was the most glorious morning ever. Even though Gaston had barely spoken to her since dawn, she did not care.
He had kissed her awake and that had been enough.
“You are quiet,” Rory nudged her. “What’s on your mind?”
Remington shrugged. “Not a thing,” she said casually. “I am simply concerned about the material we used for tents last night; one of the bolts has a large grass stain on it.”
“We shall wash them out,” Rory said, her eyes falling on Patrick’s back.
Remington saw her sister’s look and couldn’t resist teasing her. “So you think him magnificent, do you? I must say, I agree.”
Rory made a face at her and clucked to the horses. “No one asked you.”
Remington and Skye giggled. “Do not be so defensive, Rory,” Skye said. “We like him, too.”
“Men are a bother,” Rory said lamely. “He’s…. he’s too old, anyhow.”
“He’s twenty-nine years,” Remington said. “And you are sixteen. The ages are perfect.”
Rory thrust her chin up and looked away, to Remington and Skye’s delight. They goaded and teased her the entire way back to Mt. Holyoak.
The drawbridge was already down as the fortress came into sight.
Inside, the outer bailey was a far sight cleaner than it had been the day they left, due to the fact that the troop house was nearly complete.
All of the stones and sand were gone, the clutter vanished.
The small party rode into the lower inner bailey and dozens of soldiers were swarming about, taking care of the horses and charge of the wagon.
Gaston dismounted and went to the wagon, lifting Skye down and then turning to Remington. She smiled faintly at him as his hands closed around her waist and he had never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his whole life. He settled for a wink.
Arik was at Gaston’s side, his fair face grave and Gaston was instantly on his guard. He knew Arik as well as he knew himself and was well aware that Arik did not get worked up for no reason.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Remington was still standing next to him, her beautiful face upturned to the knights.
Arik did not even look at her. “In private, my lord.”
Gaston snapped orders to Antonius and Patrick to see the women safely inside and followed Arik into the castle.
The solar was cool and dim, a refreshing change from the heat of the summer day. Gaston tore off his sweaty gauntlets.
“What’s so damn impor…?” he started, but Arik cut him off.
“Mari-Elle is here,” he said lowly.
Gaston looked at him, thinking he had not heard right. He froze in mid-motion as he prepared to remove his helmet, thinking he misunderstood him. By God’s Bloody Rood, he had to have misunderstood him.
“What?” was all he could manage to say.
“She and Trenton arrived yesterday, late,” Arik went on. “It would seem that she has missed you terribly in the year you have been gone and wrote Henry as to your whereabouts. Henry was obliged to tell her, of course, and as nearly as I can guess, she was on the road even before we arrived here.”
His chest felt as if it were in a vise, squeezing and squeezing until he could hardly breathe. He stared back at Arik until the knight was uncomfortable under the disbelieving stare. Mari-Elle was here? At Mt. Holyoak? He could barely comprehend what he was hearing.
“By all that is holy,” he mumbled, in a hoarse whisper. “That bitch is here? Within these walls?”
“I have put her and Trenton in the northern wing, away from you and away from the rest of Stoneley’s family,” Arik replied, eyeing his lord.
“Gaston, I know how badly you hate her and I know she is not welcome here, but I thought you should be the one to tell her. There is naught I could do but make her comfortable and wait for your return.”
Gaston stared back at him, his mind spinning with shock. “Remington,” he murmured, and then spoke louder. “By God, I have got to find her!”
“By all means,” Arik agreed whole-heartedly, having no idea the true meaning of Gaston’s words.
“Tell her to lock herself in her room and stay the hell away from your wife. Mari-Elle knows the former chatelaine resides within these walls and is already sharpening her fangs. She plans to act the conquering hero’s wife to the hilt. ”
“To the Devil with her,” Gaston snapped, his helmet sailing into the wall.
“I shall kill her before I allow her to shame Remington.” He swung around unsteadily, moving for the door.
“That goddamn bitch isn’t going to invade my sanctuary and ruin my life any more than she already has. I shall kill her first.”
“Gaston,” Arik grabbed his liege. “Get hold of yourself, man. Remember Trenton.”
Gaston stopped suddenly, his mind working furiously. “My son,” he murmured. “She brought the boy and I will thank her for that, but she leaves this day. I do not want her here any longer than necessary.”
He charged out of the solar and ran headlong into Remington and her sisters as they directed the soldiers carrying the material in from the wagon.
His heart lurched painfully at the sight of her but he reined himself sharply; his first instinct had been to reach out and grab her. Instead, he called to her politely.
“My lady,” he said steadily. “Might I have a word, please?”
Remington eagerly went to him and he swept his arm in the direction of the solar. Following her into the room, he closed the door softly behind him.
Remington turned expectantly to him, her angelic face alive with happiness. He couldn’t help but smile back and took her in his arms.
She never thought she would like to be held, but she craved his arms around her. It was as if a whole new world had been opened for her, a world where Gaston was the center of her life.
He continued to hold her for several long moments, smelling the perfume he had given her and remembering last night as the most powerful emotional event of his life.
He was greatly shaken by the news of his wife’s arrival and simply needed to hold Remington to orient himself.
Strange, he found he could think with incredible clearness embracing her softness.
“I have received some news, angel,” he said softly, relaxing his grip enough to look in her face.
She was concerned. “What news? Has something terrible happened?”
His jaw ticked. “Terrible to you and I, indeed,” he said. “Arik has informed me that my wife and son arrived here at Mt. Holyoak yesterday while we were at the faire.”
Remington’s jaw dropped. She stared back at him with utter disbelief for a moment before trying to pull away from him. He held her tightly, pulling her into a crushing embrace once more.
“Nay, my angel, do not leave me now,” he whispered urgently. “I need you more than ever. We must be strong together and I will greatly depend upon your strength.”
He felt her relax, her arms going fearfully around his neck. “Oh, Gaston. Why is she here?”
“I do not know,” he kissed her hair and released her, moving away to compose himself. “But I intend to send her home. She is not welcome here. This is your home; and mine.”
Remington was deeply shaken. She watched Gaston tick angrily, running his fingers through his hair to slick it back, his face taut.
She could see how terribly upset he was and realized that she did indeed need to be strong through this; he would have enough to deal with without her whining and crying.
She knew what she was getting into from the very beginning; he was a married man.
But she never imagined she would have to deal with his wife so soon.
“What would you have me do then, my love?” she asked quietly. “How can I help you?”
He looked at her in the midst of his pacing and thinking. “What did you call me?”
She looked puzzled for a moment. “I called you ‘my love.’”
He leaned forward on his arms, bracing his hands on the desk. His eyes were intense. “Am I?”
She smiled at him, shyly, and lowered her gaze. “I suppose you are, Dark One.”
He actually chuckled in the midst of his catastrophe. “You walk a fine line, madam. Granting me with the greatest gifts in one breadth and insulting me the next.”
She raised her glance coyly. “I granted you a gift? I do not understand.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did you mean what you said? Am I your love?”
She nodded without hesitation. “Aye, Gaston, you are.”
“Then that, madam, is the greatest gift of all the world,” he said softly. “Nothing in my life will ever mean more to me than that.”
She was tremendously touched by his words and felt her cheeks flushing. He watched her through tender eyes, a wonderful moment in the middle of his living hell. He would remember it always. They gazed at each other a moment, absorbing the intensity of their feelings for one another.
“Now,” he continued quietly. “As for what you can do, you will take to your rooms and stay there. Keep Dane with you; I do not want him leaving the family wing. Nor your sisters and cousin, either. They are not to leave that second floor corridor until I say otherwise. Do you understand me?”
“Aye, Gaston,” she nodded, although already she was thinking on disobeying him. She was tremendously curious to see this woman, his wife.
He nodded shortly. “That’s my angel,” he came around the desk and put his hand on her arm. “I shall have Patrick escort you and your sisters upstairs and you will stay there. I shall come and see you later, after I have talked with Mari-Elle.”
She nodded obediently and moved for the door, thinking their talk was over. His hand, however, tightened around her arm and he pulled her back into his consuming embrace.
Remington found herself gazing into his smoke-hazed eyes, devouring her, and she wrapped her arms around his thick neck.
His lips nibbled her ear, her cheek, her nose, before finally encompassing her soft lips.
His kiss brought back memories from the night to her mind and quickly, her passion was aroused.
She opened her mouth wide to him, eagerly plunging her tongue into his mouth as he had done to her, tasting his essence.
He wanted to take her again right then, but he knew he could not.
Reluctantly, he pulled back and spanked her affectionately on the behind.
She grinned and straightened her surcoat and, without another spoken word between them, they exited the solar.
Somehow she knew he would make everything very well again.
Patrick took Remington up to the family wing.
The rest of the family, including Dane, was already there and the knight made sure everyone was situated comfortably.
His next destination was the tower room where Charles was holed up with his experiments; he wanted to make sure the young boy stayed to his rooms as well.
Patrick knew Mari-Elle, and he knew what the witch was capable of.
Keeping Remington and her small family away from the woman was of utmost importance.
Gaston, for his part, retreated to the outer bailey to check the progress of his troop house.
He knew Mari-Elle was aware he had returned and he furthermore knew she expected him to come calling.
As an obvious sign of his displeasure, he would keep her waiting until it was convenient for him to see her.
Additionally, the time spent would help to calm his raging anger.
He was still quite shocked at her sudden appearance; it was the very last thing he expected; yet he knew precisely how to deal with her.
With his mind focused on his immediate future, he went about his regular duties.