Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
De Tormo took a step back; he had to. Gaston was scaring the hell out of him.
He fought to keep his fear down and mull over the possibilities of what Gaston was suggesting.
“It is extreme, I shall grant you. Mayhap… mayhap if the lady’s sisters and family testified to Guy’s cruelty, and if we could possibly secure witnesses that had first-hand knowledge of his brutality, the testimonies would weigh heavily enough that the church would advance the annulment without Guy’s agreement,” he met Gaston’s gaze seriously.
“That is the only possibility I can think of, de Russe.”
Gaston pictured Jasmine and Skye trembling before the papal council, confessing their darkest shame to a group of indifferent men.
He could see Dane, struggling to be brave as he told them of the nightly beatings, the screaming, and the fear.
And he could see Remington, begging to be released from her hell.
Instead of comfort, as de Tormo had meant to give, Gaston went in the other direction.
The past several minutes of struggle to calm were erased in a split second and he was suddenly whirling, making a break for the White Tower.
Nicolas and de Tormo watched in horror, knowing exactly where he was going.
“Get de Vere!” Nicolas snapped to the priest, taking off on a dead run after his cousin.
Nicolas did not know how he was going to prevent Gaston from killing Guy. He was twice his size and strength. But he followed close behind, hearing his cousin’s heavy footfalls as he mounted the stairs on his way to the third floor cell of Guy Stoneley.
Nicolas called to Gaston, trying to plead with him as they raced up the stairs. But his cousin wasn’t responding; he did not expect him to.
Gaston reached Stoneley’s room ahead of Nicolas and ordered the sentry to open the door. The panel was barely released before Gaston was plowing into the room.
Guy was on the other side of the room, by the windows. He turned disinterestedly to Gaston, apparently unconcerned with his visit. From his vantage point, he could see nothing of the workings of the courtyard and had no idea of what had transpired.
“Get out, de Russe,” he said. “I have no desire to speak with you tonight.”
Gaston did not even reply. Suddenly, he was hurling himself across the room, grabbing Guy by the throat and tossing him over the wide, oaken table.
Guy flew like a rag doll; his body went skidding across the floor and slammed into the stone wall.
Before he could react in any way, Gaston leapt over the table and hit Guy so severely that the man instantly lost four teeth. Blood splashed onto the floor.
“Your agreement,” Gaston seethed, his hand still clenching Guy’s throat. “Your agreement or I kill you.”
Guy was struggling with the darkness that threatened to claim him. Stars danced before his eyes and his mouth was an agonizing, throbbing mass. “Go to hell!”
Gaston hit him again, in the torso this time, and Guy exhaled loudly from the force. He folded in on himself, but Gaston still held him around the neck.
“I will say it once more,” Gaston said through clenched teeth. “Your agreement or your life!”
Guy couldn’t breathe; he couldn’t walk, or stand, or think either. Horrible rasping noises flushed forth from his chest as he fought to take in air. He tried to form a word, any word, but was thwarted each time. Finally, he managed to spit out four words. “To hell with you!”
They were not the words Gaston was looking for. He slammed Guy again, tossing him against the wall and then pouncing on him.
“Gaston, no!” Nicolas was over his indecision as to whether or not to intervene; any more pummeling and Stoneley would be dead. He jumped on Gaston, using all of his young strength to pull his cousin back. “No! You shall kill him!”
Gaston was possessed. He let go of Guy long enough to hit Nicolas so hard that the knight staggered backward and tripped over a chair, breaking the chair.
He landed heavily, his head swimming and his jaw feeling as though it had been crushed.
But he struggled to his feet, knowing he was the only one at the moment who could slow his cousin’s rage.
Shaking off the stars that skipped before his eyes, he thrust himself forward once again.
Gaston had Guy by the hair when Nicolas pounced on him. Guy was only semi-conscious and fell back to the floor in a heap as Gaston turned his rage, full-blown, on his cousin.
Nicolas held his own, but he never really had a chance.
Gaston’s huge fists pummeled him and Nicolas found himself doing nothing more than defending himself.
There was no way to win and he knew it, so he tried to protect his head as he staggered and tripped and fell away from the wrath of his cousin.
Nicolas fell heavily over a small table, landing with a heavy thud.
Breathing hard, Gaston swung from his incapacitated cousin and took long strides across the floor to where Guy was beginning to raise himself on shaky arms. He snatched the man by his shirt collar, swinging him into the nearest chair as if he weighed no more than a small child.
Bloodied and swollen, Guy’s eyes rolled open to find Gaston’s flushed face inches from him. Blue veins were bulging on Gaston’s temples.
“Let us try this once more,” he growled breathlessly. “I will have your consent for an annulment or I will finish what I have started.”
Guy hacked up blood and mucus and spit out a tooth, all on Gaston’s arm. Gaston did not flinch; he was waiting for an answer. And Guy was taking his leisure time in responding.
“Answer me, Stoneley. My patience is gone.”
“And so is Remington, else you would not be here,” Guy said, muffled with his missing teeth and swollen mouth.
“You may beat me, de Russe, torture me, and eventually kill me, but always remember that I am her legal husband. I am. ’Tis I who legally hold what you so desperately want, and no amount of blood and pain can change that. ”
A muscle in Gaston’s cheek twitched involuntarily as smoky gray eyes met with ice blue. “Your agreement.”
Guy met his eyes, his breathing slowing and the pain beginning to increase. Several feet away, Nicolas rose to his feet like an old man, hunched over with the pain in his torso where Gaston had punched him. He wiped at his mouth, watching and waiting.
“If you kill me, you shall be deemed a murderer and you will never gain an annulment,” Guy said softly.
“I am willing to take the risk.”
“What of Remington? If you are charged with murder, what will happen to her? You profess your love for her, yet you are not thinking of her in this matter. You are only thinking of yourself.”
Gaston’s muscle twitched again. “Your agreement, Stoneley.”
Suddenly, Henry and John de Vere were in the doorway, followed by several of Gaston’s men. Christopher Urswick and Uncle Jasper followed closely.
“Gaston!” Henry bellowed. “Let him up!”
Gaston did not react for a moment; he was still hunched over Stoneley in the chair, his arms braced on the arms, trapping his prey.
“Damnation, Gaston, I said let him up!” Henry moved forward, grabbing Gaston’s arm.
De Vere put both arms around Gaston and pulled him back, but not without a great deal of effort. It was like trying to move a wall.
Henry gazed down at Stoneley and shook his head regretfully. “Gaston…”
“I did it, my lord,” Nicolas suddenly interjected, moving forward so that all could see his wounds. “I fought Stoneley and Gaston separated us. I did it… because of what he’s done. I was protecting my cousin.”
“And you are protecting him now,” Henry said plainly, grabbing one of Gaston’s bloodied hands.
The knuckles were raw and torn. “Your loyalty is commendable, young de Russe. But I well know what happened here tonight, and I furthermore expected Gaston to deal me more of the same when he finished with Stoneley.”
Gaston, still in de Vere’s grip, kept his gaze averted.
Henry studied his most powerful knight remorsefully.
“I thought it would be better this way, Gaston. I honestly did not enjoy deceiving you. I merely thought a quick removal, minus the painful good-byes would be better for you both. If the tooth is aching, is it not better to extract it rapidly and be done with it?”
Gaston did not answer, although he felt somewhat better. He had never truly believed Henry had betrayed him, but he wondered. It seemed as if his whole world was unbalanced, and he was not sure of anything anymore, except his feelings for Remington.
Henry passed a glance at Stoneley, grossly swollen. “I suspect you have me to thank for your life this night. I can see that the Dark One was quite efficient.”
“That may be, my lord, but he still did not gain what he set out to obtain,” Stoneley replied, looking at Gaston’s profile.
Henry’s face hardened. “Then I can see I must do the bargaining. Well, out with it, then. What are your terms for an annulment agreement, Stoneley? And do not waste my time with haggling. Spit it out.”
Guy looked up at Henry, seeing the other important men in the room. Men he had fought against, despised. But to actually be negotiating with Henry brought a whole new meaning to the game and he felt most powerful, in spite of his aching body. He shifted in his seat.
“Look at me, de Russe, when I speak, for I shall not repeat my words,” he said icily.
Gaston stiffened a bit. Reluctantly, he turned to face Guy, his face like stone. All of the rage, the fury, the hatred, was expertly banked and Stoneley’s twisted mouth smiled.
“Excellent,” he glanced up at Henry. “I will list my terms in order. First, I would be released from the Tower.”
“Done,” Henry did not miss a beat. “And?”
“The return of my keep. My lands and wealth, as well.”
Henry glanced at Gaston. Seeing no reaction, he nodded his head. “Agreed. Is that all?”