Chapter Twenty-Four
The first thing she was aware of was a deep, rumbling voice. It was a rich voice, sensual and comforting, and it took her a moment to realize she was listening to Gaston. He wasn’t speaking to her, however; he was saying something to his uncle.
She twitched and opened her eyes, sighing deeply. Gaston was standing in front of her, still speaking to one of his men, but gazed down on her when she stirred.
“So you are awake,” he said gently. “Did my uncle put you to sleep with all of his talking?”
She sat up, smiling sleepily at him. “Actually, he did. But it wasn’t because I lacked interest in the subject; I am just increasingly tired these days.”
He took her hand in his glove. “No doubt,” he jerked his head at the soldier standing at the door and the man vacated. He looked down at her again. “Are you awake enough that we might carry on an intelligent conversation? We must discuss a few things.”
She nodded, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and he deposited his huge body on a very sturdy stool just in front of her. He still held her hand, his eyes on her warmly.
“I am glad you are back,” she said. “I expected not to see you for weeks the way you were talking. Did your meetings go well?”
The warmth in his face faded. “About as I expected,” he replied softly, holding both of her hands now.
“Henry was receptive to me, as I knew he would be. I was able to speak to the bishop of Exeter and he assured me that it should be no problem to annul my marriage to Mari-Elle and he promised that he would see to it as quickly as he could. That portion of my talks went most favorably; however, the problems lies where we knew it would. With Guy.”
At the mention of his name, Remington’s face went white and Gaston squeezed her hands sympathetically. “Did you see him?”
He nodded. “He was not cooperative in the least, angel. In fact, he seemed to take delight in the entire situation. I fear he will make a nightmare out of all of this.”
She lowered her gaze, her stomach quivering nervously and making her ill. Gaston could see her fear and cursed silently that he was not yet finished with his news.
“Henry demanded that Guy be allowed to see you, under my supervision of course, and I had to comply. You knew that this might happen, Remi, and I am sorry that I could not prevent it,” his voice was soft.
“But it might be more beneficial that we realize. Guy said that if you were to ask him for an annulment personally, that he might consider it. You do not have to do it if you do not want to, though. You can sit and stare at the wall the entire time if it pleases you.”
He could feel her hands shaking. “If there is a chance he will consider granting our request, then I will ask him. But I truthfully do not know why he would listen to me; he never has before.”
Gaston knew Stoneley’s request was probably a ploy to see his wife and nothing more, but if there were a chance that he honestly would reconsider his position, then they would have to take it.
“I am sorry, angel,” he whispered again. He felt as if he were failing her somehow, unable to protect her from the turmoil.
She nodded shakily, acknowledging his apology.
She opened her mouth to speak, but words would not come.
Finally, she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him so tightly that she would have choked him had it not been for his armor.
He held her tightly, wishing he could absorb all of her fear and pain.
“I am so scared, Gaston,” she whispered after a moment. “I have not seen him in over a year and I feel as if I am about to relive my worst nightmare.”
“There is nothing to be frightened of,” he assured her. “I will be there the entire time, love. There is naught he can do or say to you to harm you.”
She pulled back, wiping daintily at her nose and blinking back tears. “I know that, but I am still scared. I hate him so.”
“So do I,” he answered. “But you will only have to see him this one time if I have anything to say about it. Try not to let him upset you so. I do not like to see you so upset.”
She nodded again, attempting to compose herself. Gaston rose from the stool and pulled her gently to her feet. He sought to brighten the mood a bit. “Henry has invited us to sup with he and Elizabeth tonight. Why do not you go and change into a pretty surcoat.”
Her mouth fell open in horror, forgetting all about Guy for the moment. “The king wants to sup with us? Lord, Gaston, I do not own a surcoat worthy of the king’s table.”
“Of course you do,” he insisted, giving her a gentle tug toward the stairs. “Where are your things? I will decide what you are to wear.”
*
An hour later, looking absolutely ravishing in a scarlet brocade surcoat and a lovely necklace with rough garnets, Remington left Braidwood for the Tower.
Gaston had commandeered a litter for her, which she thought was silly, but he insisted.
She giggled as he settled her on it, complaining that she felt like Cleopatra.
He eyed her sternly, but there was a smile playing on his lips.
He was glad she was laughing, knowing the tears and anxiety would descend upon her quickly enough once they reached the Tower.
The Tower fascinated her as they passed through the entrance and through the narrow corridor between the Byward and Middle Tower. There were household troops everywhere, lining their path as they rode into the open courtyard.
In the middle of the courtyard stood the White Tower, looming above her.
Her smiles faded and terror seized her; she knew Guy was watching her now.
She could not see him, but she could feel him.
Feel his evil. He was here, and she was quickly going back on her promise not to be afraid anymore. She was horrified.
Gaston reached the litter and gently lifted her off, seeing that the color had gone out of her cheeks and knowing why. He sought to ease her. “Would you like to tour the Tower first? There are several points of interest.”
She nodded numbly, knowing a tour would only delay the inevitable, yet it might afford her the opportunity to regain some of her shattered composure.
With Nicolas and his other knights in tow, Gaston took her all over the structure, not really taking her into any buildings but pointing out specific towers and relaying stories.
He was careful not to point out the Bloody Tower, or mention anything about the nephews Richard had murdered.
He tried to make her more at ease in the unfamiliar place before he led her into the depths of the lion’s den.
As he had hoped, she regained some of her color and poise by the time he was finished showing her about. She asked small questions, seeming to take some interest in her surroundings when he knew the only thing she was truly focused on was the massive Tower in the center of the compound.
John de Vere joined their small party when the tour was nearly complete. Much to Remington’s surprise, he kissed her pleasantly on the cheek in greeting and proceeded to tell her how lovely she looked.
Remington eyed him as he conversed with Gaston, wondering if all men were as friendly as she had come to see since being introduced into Gaston’s world.
Before she had met him, all men were cold, unfeeling bastards and she had hated them.
But since she had met the Dark One, she had come to meet a great many men who were nothing but kind and courteous.
Was it possible, then, that they were the norm, and that her father and Guy were the exception to the rule? She wondered.
Gaston turned to her after a few moments of conversation. “Well, angel, shall we get this over with?”
She was much more comfortable than she had been earlier and squared her shoulders. “Aye, let’s do. I am eager to get on with it.”
He smiled gently at her and took her arm, leading her across the compound. Remington noticed that not only were Gaston’s knights following him, but the earl as well. “Are they coming, too? Must I have so many protectors?”
Gaston gazed up at the tall, white structure. “I am your only protector. They are my protectors.” She looked puzzled and he smiled. “As I will be watching you, they will be watching me to make sure I do not get out of hand.”
She grinned back, timidly, not seeing his humor but smiling anyway. Truly, she was more than concerned with the prospect of Gaston losing his control. “Gaston, you promised me that you would not commit murder. Would you break your promise to me?”
“Of course not,” he said. “But we sometimes do things in the heat of anger that we only have regrets for later on. I have no intention of deliberately breaking my promise to you, but….”
They entered into the dark structure of the White Tower and were met by two sentries.
Taking the stairs to the third floor, Remington’s palms began to sweat and her heart began thumping in her ears.
Aye, she was terrified, but with all of the men accompanying her, she also felt a strange sense of bravery.
She knew Guy couldn’t touch her, and even entertained the thought of telling him what she really thought of him.
Everything she had wanted to say to him but did not dare risk it.
They paused in front of a massive oak door and her heart surged into her throat. She swallowed hard, meeting Gaston’s eyes. He smiled as he removed his helm and motioned for the sentry to open the door.
The door to hell!
The knights and the earl preceded them both into the room. Gaston followed, leading Remington by the hand. Her eyes darted about nervously, searching for the figure of her husband when she came to rest on him several yards away.
All of her reasoning, her mental courage, fled.