Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Guy was looking directly at her, a thin smile on his lips and she jerked back from Gaston, stumbling back toward the door.
Gaston quickly snatched her before she could bolt from the room, but he did not pull her forward.
She was as far into the room as she wished to go at the moment, and he would not push.
Her eyes were wide and senseless, like a frightened deer.
Guy took a few small steps, still smiling at her. “My God, Remington. I did not believe it possible that you could have grown any more beautiful, but you have. You are exquisite, darling.”
She shrank even more, a flush mottling her cheeks. She had completely lost the power of speech and Guy drew even closer. “What? No words of thanks, nor greeting? It has been over a year since we last saw one another. Are you not happy to see your husband?”
Her cheeks flushed a deeper red and she found her tongue. “I hate you, you bastard! God damn you to hell for the horror you have put me through for nine years, and may he further damn you for the pain you have caused my family! I hate you and I want nothing to do with you ever again!”
Old habits are hard to break. Guy had never heard that tone from Remington, because he forbade her to raise her voice. Instinctively, he stiffened and moved toward her, which was his grave mistake.
Gaston lashed out a huge, gloved fist and caught Guy in the side of his head, sending him crashing to the floor. Before the earl or Nicolas could reach him, he was looming over Stoneley like the angel of death.
“You were going to strike her, weren’t you?” he snarled. “You whoreskin, I shall kill you if you make another provocative move toward her.”
John and Nicolas pulled Gaston back, steering him back toward Remington, who reached out and pulled him to her. She clung to him, terrified he was going to kill Guy right before her eyes. But she truly did not know why she should prevent him from murdering a most vile creature.
Guy was slow to come around, for Gaston had dealt him a brutal blow. He shook his head several times before weakly pushing himself onto his knees, the world spinning and his ears ringing. His cheek throbbed terribly, and he was sure the bone was broken.
“The church will have something to say about your treatment of a prisoner,” he finally gasped, putting his hand to his head and rising to unsteady feet. Not a man in the room moved to help him.
Gaston’s face was drawn with rage as he watched Guy move for the nearest chair. De Vere, seeing that the meeting was already going rather poorly, took charge.
“My lady, sit down if you would, please,” he eyed Gaston. “Sit down before you fall down, Gaston. Next to Remington.”
Woodenly, Remington sat several feet away from Guy and pulled Gaston down onto a taller stool as the earl pushed him.
She was not so worried for herself anymore, but increasing concerned for Gaston’s stability.
It was absolutely amazing to see him not in complete control of his emotions; she had never seen him in a rage and was, frankly, frightened.
Guy was lucid again, watching his wife with narrowed eyes. He stared at her for several moments. “You should control your trained dog better than that, Remi. You will most certainly not gain what you want if you do not! Now, darling, let us return to the subject. How have you been? How is my son?”
She fought to keep her breathing normal as she spoke. “Dane is well. He is fostering now.”
A ripple of rage brushed Guy’s face. “Fostering? Where? And by whose order?”
“Sir Gaston’s,” she replied. “He is eight years old now and it was time to begin his training.”
“Where is he?” Stoneley repeated.
“At Mt. Holyoak with a dozen other pages under Sir Gaston’s ward,” she replied; it was becoming easier as she went.
Guy did not answer for a moment. The swelling on his face was already darkening. “How are your sisters?”
Remington lowered her gaze. “Rory is dead, but Jasmine and Skye are well.”
“What happened to Rory?” Guy asked, puzzled more than concerned.
“An accident,” Remington replied vaguely.
The group sat in silence for several minutes while Guy studied his wife from across the room. He could feel Gaston’s glare on him but refused to look at the man. “So, darling, I understand you have a request of me. I would hear it now.”
Her eyes flew up to meet the hated ice blue orbs. Next to her, Gaston shifted his massive weight on the stool but she did not look at him. If there were a chance Guy would listen to her, then she would have to take it. She prayed swiftly to whatever god was listening for much-needed courage.
“I wish to annul our marriage,” she said after a moment. “I would ask for your cooperation in the matter.”
He studied her. “Say ‘please’.”
Her rapid breathing returned, knowing he had the upper hand in this game as he always had. Lord, did he plan to humiliate her in front of everyone? What was going on in his sinister mind?
“Please, Guy,” she stammered. “Surely you have tired of me by now.”
He snorted a chuckle. “Tire of your sweet body? I should say not. I understand you have been giving the Dark One samples of your delicacies. He knows what I mean when I say sweet.”
Remington flushed a dull, deep red and looked at the ground. The more uncomfortable she became, the more Guy liked it. His mood perked.
“I see it is true, then. Did you enjoy bedding with another man, darling? Did you find yourself comparing him to me? I like comparisons, in truth, but your sisters could not compete with you, only Skye, mayhap, because she was so tiny. ’Twas like taking a virgin every time with her.”
Remington let out a sickened choke and Gaston shot to his feet again, only to be corralled by de Vere and Matts.
“You are a sick man, Stoneley,” Gaston growled, his huge body rigid. “And we are not here to speak of conquests, but of an annulment. She has asked you politely and you will do her the courtesy of answering.”
Guy looked smug. Overly so. Gaston refused to sit back down, but he took Remington’s hand in his and held it tightly. Guy seemed not to care or take notice.
“An annulment,” he mulled over the word as if thinking on it.
“Well, ’tis true, I have no real use for a woman who cannot bear me any more sons.
I do not understand your need for a barren wife, de Russe, but that is your privilege.
Yet, in good faith, I cannot condone an annulment. I believe in the sanctity of marriage.”
“If you did, then you would not have bedded her sisters!” Gaston shot back in a low voice. “Your actions refute your words.”
Guy shrugged. “They were mine to do with as I pleased, and since when do you have the right to act so pious? You bedded another man’s wife.”
Remington was shaking with fury and terror. “He did not. I bedded him!”
Gaston hated hearing such personal details coming from her mouth, but he knew Guy was driving her to it. He turned the focus of the conversation back to the subject at hand.
“I told you that I would return to hear your price for an agreement,” he said. “I would hear your terms now.”
Guy stood from the chair. “I told you, de Russe, I have no terms. There will be no annulment.”
Remington was quickly becoming a quivering wreck. She leapt from the chair, tearing her hand from Gaston’s. With quick strides, she crossed the room and stood face-to-face with her husband.
Ignoring her disgust at standing so close, she focused a hard gaze on him.
“You are a greedy, immoral man. I know you too well, Guy, and you do indeed have a price. What is it so that we may be on with this? The longer I stand here, the more I hate you.”
He raised an eyebrow, and then a hand. Gaston lurched forward, but strong hands reached out to steady him when they realized Guy was running a gentle finger down Remington’s cheek. “How can you say that, darling, when we have a son together?”
“That is all we have together,” Remington hissed. “There is no affection, no respect; only fear and intimidation and pain. I have always hated you, since the day I met you. I will be free of you if I have to kill you myself!”
The hand that had so gently stroked her cheek came to rest on her arm, gripping it firmly. She felt the vise tightening and fought the urge to yank away; if she showed any sort of fear or pain, Gaston would rip Guy’s head from his shoulders.
“Do not say that, Remi. I want you to stay here, with me. I have always been fond of you.”
“You have always been fond of beating and humiliating me,” she said frankly, her emotions surging from fear one moment to confidence the next. “Let me go, Guy. I shall do anything you ask, if you will only agree to an annulment.”
He looked at her, his mind working madly. He could see how badly she wanted this, and he could see that the stakes in this game were even higher than he had originally thought. Being a wise man, he knew how to play what he was dealt.
“I want to speak with you alone, then,” he said quietly. “Tell your companions to leave us alone for one hour, and I shall sincerely consider your request. We have much to speak of in private, wife.”
“Like hell.” Gaston broke free of the hands restraining him, marching toward them with deadly strides when Remington suddenly held out her hand to stop him.
“It’s all right, Gaston,” she assured him quickly. “There is no harm in talking to him for an hour.”
Gaston did not stop and she moved quickly to intercept him. Grabbing hold of him with all her strength, she turned him around and pulled him with her until they were nearly to the door. Her soft, white hands wound themselves in his dark hair and pulled his head down to her level.
“Take the men and wait for me in the hall,” she whispered. “You may stand right by the door if you wish and listen to every word, but if there is the possibility that he is sincere, then we must do as he says. Please.”
“I shall not leave you alone with him,” Gaston growled.
“And you will not be. You will be right outside the door should I need you,” she hissed urgently. “Please, Gaston, just do as he asks. Please?”
He sighed heavily. “I do not like this, Remi.”
Her lips were against his ear and she kissed him tenderly. “Nor do I, my love, but I am willing to do as he asks. Please go along with me.”
He looked at her a moment before straightening and turning to the knights against the wall.
He struggled to spit out the words. “We will wait in the hall for the lady,” he rumbled, turning with a deadly glare to Stoneley.
“One hour. If you so much as spit in her direction, your death will not be painless.”
Guy did not say a word as Gaston and the other men filed out. When the door shut softly, his eyes fell on his wife.
“Thank God they are gone,” he said. “Now we may speak the truth. How is it that you have become Henry’s pawn, Remington?”
“I am not his pawn.” She was still on the other side of the room, a good distance away. “And I have been speaking the truth the entire time. I hate you and I want out of this marriage.”
His jaw ticked and she involuntarily flinched, waiting for the pain that was sure to follow. Surprisingly, he did not come toward her with murder on his mind. Instead, he turned toward the narrow window, feeling the heat wafting on the stale breeze.
“As you say, Remi,” he said lightly. “But I warn you, if you intend to go through with this, it will cost you. Dearly.”
“It can cost me nothing more than you have already taken,” she said flatly. “You have stripped me of everything in life, Guy. What more could you possibly want from me?”
He smiled humorlessly, still staring out the window. “Do you wish to know my terms?”
“I do.” She was shocked and wary that he did, indeed, have terms. He had insisted to Gaston that there were no terms to be met.
He looked at her, then. “Kiss me.”
She blanched. “What?”
“I said kiss me.”
She backed away, shaking her head but he held up a finger of warning. “Kiss me or there will be no more discussions.”
She froze, bile rising in her throat. Dear God, did this man have no mercy? Forcing her feet to move, she shuffled unsteadily to where he was standing. Expectantly, she stood in front of him and prayed fervently that she would not vomit on him.
“Kiss me, Remington,” he repeated.
It suddenly occurred to her that he wished for her to do the kissing. As if she were servicing him. Like a whore. She stood on her toes and pecked him lightly on the lips, backing away so fast she nearly tripped. He frowned.
“That was not a kiss,” he said. “When I said kiss me, I meant it. Let me feel your tongue.”
She let out a whimper and closed her eyes, hanging her head. “Guy, why must you…?”
“Kiss me!” he snapped. “Do it or I will speak with you no further.”
She had to get it over with; arguing with him would be to no avail and she was desperate enough to do almost anything to gain her means.
Thrusting herself forward, she latched onto his lips and pried his mouth open with her tongue, only to be met by his eager response.
Frightened and sickened, she pulled away as quickly as it started and staggered away from him, truly fearful that she would become ill.
Guy smiled. “You see? That was not so bad.”
She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, ashamed and disgusted. “Get on with it, Guy. What are your terms?”
He was smiling smugly at her. He wandered away from the window and seated himself comfortably in a chair. His gaze was lingering, while hers was hateful. The tension in the room was building as far as she was concerned, but he seemed very much at ease. Her impatience was growing.
“Go and sit,” he ordered.
Haltingly, she looked for the nearest chair and planted herself rigidly, waiting.
Guy continued to stare at her, entirely too confident.
“You will sit there for the remainder of the hour,” he said finally, his voice quiet.
“You will not say a word, and you will return to me tomorrow when I have decided just what precisely my terms are. And I will have terms have no doubt. And you will not tell de Russe what has transpired during this hour. Is that clear?”
Stunned, she nodded. She knew him well enough to know there was nothing more to say; she had heard the tone before, and she was scared to death of it.
When Gaston opened the door an hour later, she bolted from the room as if her hair was on fire.