Chapter Fourteen #4
“I see Adrian from time to time whilst I am in London,” he said. “I did hear about the grandchild. Martin, they named him. After Nicolas’ father.”
Remington nodded. “Boden and Gage call the baby Marty, which Adrian hates.” She giggled. “The last day of their visit, Gage started calling the child Farty Marty. I thought Adrian was going to rip his head off.”
Trenton laughed at the antics of his youngest brothers. “God’s Bones, those two are a pair,” he said. “Full of the devil.”
“They remind me of you and Dane when you were younger.”
“We were never that bad.”
Remington looked at him, a twinkle in her eye. “Weren’t you?” she said. “I seem to remember differently.”
Trenton smirked at her, refusing to incriminate himself. He patted her hand, returning his attention to the sky as his thoughts drifted from Nicolas to his father. He felt the need to speak to Remington about it, if only to tell her that he had been told. Already, it was to be a sad conversation.
“Dane told me about my father,” he said quietly, his mood sobering dramatically. “Had I known of his illness, I would have come home much sooner.”
Beside him, Remington could feel her mood sobering, too.
Even though she hadn’t given birth to Trenton, she had always considered him her son, as Trenton considered her his mother.
They had a strong bond between them, but it was a different bond than Trenton had with his father.
With Remington, their bond was based on the fact that even though they weren’t related by blood, they still loved and trusted one another. She respected him a good deal.
When Remington looked at Trenton, she saw Gaston as he was thirty years ago – tall, proud, big, and strong.
Trenton and Gaston were so similar, in all aspects, that it was frightening at times.
But it also meant they had the same stubbornness, the same fears, and nearly the same outlook on many things.
Therefore, she knew that Trenton had been rocked by the news of his father’s health. He was emotional like Gaston was, too.
“I am sure Dane told you that he does not want anyone to know,” she said after a moment. “I have been trying to honor that, but I had a moment of weakness one day and told Dane. I know he has told Cort, and now you.”
Trenton patted her hand. “I will not let my father know that I know, but I feel terrible that I asked him to go to Wellesbourne to… well, to talk to Uncle Matthew about…”
He trailed off. “Gaston told me,” Remington said, seeing that Trenton wasn’t particularly surprised by her admission.
“I know why you have come. To be truthful, I am not surprised, Trenton. You were always a man of great feeling. I wondered how long it would be before you realized that a loveless marriage is not for you.”
“It really wasn’t a matter of a loveless marriage. It was simply that I fell in love with a woman and the marriage aspect did not enter my mind until I realized that it would be a complicated thing for us to be together.”
Remington smiled faintly. “Lysabel Wellesbourne,” she murmured. “She was such a lovely little lass. I have not seen her in years, though.”
“She is still a lovely lass,” Trenton said. “More so now.”
Her smile faded. “And you are sure this is what you want?”
“Never more sure of anything in my life. I am just sorry that I got my father involved. Had I known of his illness, I swear I would have never asked him to intervene with Uncle Matthew.”
Remington let go of him and perched on a small wall that lined the stairs. She pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, looking up at the sky again, her expression distant with thought.
“Trenton, I will be honest,” she said. “I do not know how much time your father has left on this earth. It could be months, it could be years. But I suppose the same could be said for any of us – none of us knows how much time we have left. But in the time we have left, we must make those days count. We must fight the good fight, and live the good life, because once we are laid to rest, we will be remembered by those deeds. I want your father to be remembered by his deeds as a man and as a father, not by the betrayal at Bosworth those years ago that seems to follow him. That is why I support him as he goes to Wellesbourne to speak to Matt on your behalf. It is important for him to accomplish important things while he still can.”
Trenton had a lump in his throat as he listened to her talk.
She seemed so serene and calm about it, like a woman who was resigned to the inevitable yet so very grateful for the time she had left.
It was so painful to hear it, yet so beautiful at the same time.
He wondered if Lysabel would ever speak so sweetly about him when his time came.
He hoped so.
“How sick is he?” he asked, his voice tight. “Please tell me.”
Remington looked at him. “Sick,” she said.
“Every day, he is a little slower. He thinks I do not notice, but I do. I will tell you something that I’ve not told him, Trenton.
I cannot bring myself to do it, not as long as he tries to keep his illness a secret.
He does not want to acknowledge it, so I honor that.
But I will tell you that every day that passes, and I see the man I love slow down just a little more, a little piece of me dies right along with him.
On that day when I finally lose him, I shall rejoice that he is no longer suffering, but my heart will be destroyed by the loss.
I cannot imagine my world without him. Still, the one thing that brings me some measure of comfort is that those who have passed before us, Arik as well as my sister, Rory, shall be waiting for him.
He shall not be alone in death. To think of his reunion with Arik is the only way I can keep from falling to pieces. ”
Trenton closed his eyes and the tears streamed down his face, in the darkness where no one could see them.
He wiped them away, hearing the grief in Remington’s voice and realizing that, indeed, his father was probably sicker than Dane had led him to believe.
The regret he was coming to feel at having stayed away so long was beginning to overwhelm him.
“I think that, mayhap, I shall remain at Deverill for a while,” he said, taking a deep breath to compose himself. “My father may have need of me, so I will remain close.”
Remington could see him wiping at his face in the darkness. “I did not tell you that to coerce you into remaining,” she said. “I told you that because it is the truth.”
“I know. But I cannot return to London, not now. I feel the need to repair my relationship with my father. All of the resentment and anger I felt towards him seems rather foolish now.”
Remington stood up and made her way over to him, putting a gentle hand on his arm.
“It will mean the world to him if you remain,” she said quietly.
“Mayhap, it is time to let the past go. Life is so precious, Trenton, and it flies by so quickly. When he rides to Wellesbourne, go with him. Keep watch over him. And mayhap, some of what has been damaged can begin to heal.”
Trenton nodded, feeling extremely emotional as he stood there and held her hand. As he brought her hand up to his lips for an affectionate kiss, they began to hear the thunder of horses.
From where they were standing, they could see two big warhorses charging out of the stable area, heading for the gatehouse.
Both Trenton and Remington watched as the horses raced by and voices began calling to the sentries at the gatehouse, who began to crank open the massive gates.
Trenton, in particular, peered after the riders curiously.
“That is Dane and Cort,” he said, looking to Remington. “Where do you suppose they’re going?”
Remington shook her head. “Knowing those two, it could be anything,” she said. Releasing Trenton, she turned for the massive entry door. “Dane lures Cort into the same misadventures that he used to lure you into, and Cort, being young and excitable, is an eager victim to Dane’s mastery.”
Trenton grinned, following Remington towards the entry. “Whatever he is doing this night, I am glad Dane did not try to pull me into it,” he said. “Let Cort follow the man to his doom. I have followed him more times than I can count.”
Remington laughed softly as she opened the door. “You are a wise man,” she said. “Seek your bed and be thankful you are not out riding in the dead of night on another one of Dane’s foolish escapades.”
Trenton followed her in through the door, into the foyer that was lit with a dozen glowing tapers. “I intend to do just that,” he said. “But you can believe I shall ask those two what they were up to come the morrow.”
“If they tell you, do not tell me. I am sure that I do not want to know.”
Trenton grinned as he kissed his mother good night and headed up to his chamber. Even as he headed up the narrow steps, his mind was lingering on his brothers and wondering if he should follow them just to keep them out of trouble.
He decided against it.
That night, he slept better, but he awoke before dawn with thoughts of the journey to Wellesbourne on his mind.
Rising to a purple sky and cold temperatures, he made sure Dewi was prepared for the trip back to Wellesbourne and as he was in the stables, he happened to notice that neither Dane nor Cort’s horses had returned.
Whatever the pair was doing, it had kept them out all night, and by the time Trenton was ready to depart with his father, younger brothers, and about fifty men-at-arms, Dane and Cort still had not returned.
When he asked Remington if she wanted him to go after them, she simply rolled her eyes and shook her head.
She wasn’t concerned, so Trenton wasn’t either, but the as the escort departed Deverill Castle, he couldn’t help but wonder about the disappearance of Dane and Cort.
Whatever they were doing must have been very important, indeed.