The Dark One: Dark Knight (118 page)

     “Do you want to hear something funny?” he
said, his cheek against the top of her head. “Dane and Trenton rode north from
Oxford to help me. You can imagine my surprise when two young boys arrived at
Mt. Holyoak astride an old nag that was one step before death.”

     “They came alone?” she looked up at him,
shocked. “All by themselves, all the way from Oxford?”

     He nodded, smiling. “It would seem that
Dane was hell-bent on protecting you from Guy, while Trenton was going to act
as my second.”

     Her brow furrowed. “Why do you smile? ‘Twas
foolish for them to come, Gaston! I hope you blistered their backsides!”

     “I smile because they are far braver than I
was at that age and I am proud of the fact. And no, I did not blister their
backsides, but I made it quite clear their mission was foolhardy and that they
were wrong in their actions. My purpose was to discourage them, Remi, not beat
them senseless. Properly worded reprimands oft work better than welts across
the buttocks.”

     She lowered her gaze, feeling ashamed that
he was so sensible and patient.  “Are they still at Mt. Holyoak?”

     “Aye, I left them there with Roald,” he
answered. “They can ride back with you when you return to London.”

     She met his gaze, running a tender finger
along his scratchy stubble. “You shall not be escorting me?”

     He kissed her finger when it traced his
lips. “As much as I am torn, I cannot. I must stay here and find Guy. Nicolas
and Matts are riding from Deverill as we speak, bringing reinforcements for the
guard at Mt. Holyoak. They'll escort you back to London.”

     She watched her finger as it ran over his
cheeks, his square jaw. She was quiet a moment. “What of my annulment? Did the
papal council give you an answer before... all of this happened?”

     He shook his head. “Unfortunately not. The
papal guard uniform Guy was wearing was stolen from the soldier that had been
sent to retrieve him. The council wanted to speak with Guy one last time after
reading de Tormo's missive, presumably to hear what the man had to say in his
defense. But Guy killed the soldier and escaped before that could happen.”

     She rolled her eyes wearily, so very tired
of all of the legalities and arguing. She almost did not care anymore;
annulment or no annulment, she and Gaston were forever destined to be together.
“Oh, Gaston, when will it be over? I do not know how much more of this I can
take.”

     “I know, angel. But Courtenay seemed to
think the council was quite convinced an annulment should be granted, based on
de Tormo’s testimony. I think after this latest escapade with Guy, they will
finally see the truth of the matter. I tend to believe that we will have your
annulment upon your return to London.”

     She made a wry face. “A lot of good it will
do me. We shall not be married right away, considering you shall be chasing
through Yorkshire after Guy,” she threw her arms around his neck and he lifted
her high so that their faces were level. “Return with me, Gaston. We shall have
our annulment and we shall be married the, very same day. Then you can return
to Yorkshire and do what needs to be done. Please?”

     He nuzzled her cheek. “I cannot, love. I
have got to take care of Guy before he does any more damage. I must make him
pay for what he has done to you.”

“There will be all the
time in the world for that after we're married,” she closed her eyes at his
touch, her arms tingling wildly. “Please return with me first.”

     He was forgetting his rage, loosing himself
in the smell of her. “I cannot, Remi.”

     His lips were grazing her jaw line, her
neck, suckling gently on her sweet skin. Her horror, her tears faded into the
recesses of her mind as Gaston reminded her of life's sweetest pleasure. Her
grip around his neck tightened.

     “I shall make you come with me,” she
whispered. “I shall force you.”

     “Force me?” he mumbled, nibbling on her
shoulder. “And just how do you plan to do that?”

     She answered him by reaching around to her
back, undoing the stays on her borrowed dress. Scarlet silk cascaded like a
waterfall to the floor, landing in a pile around his feet. The boned corset
underneath grazed his armor and he laughed low in his throat.

     “You laugh, my lord?” she said huskily. “Is
something, perchance, humorous about my undressing before you?”

     “God no,” he whispered into the white flesh
of her upper arm. “But you are resorting to trickery to gain your ends and I
find that mayhap I shall enjoy submitting to your 'force'.”

     She grabbed his great head, forcing him to
look at her. He was shocked to see her eyes brimming with tears and he froze
his onslaught, horrified that he had been so inconsiderate of her feelings. “Oh
Remi, I am sorry,” he said softly. “I thought….I shouldn't have pushed, but you
removed your surcoat and. . . I should have been mindful of your….”

     She put her fingers against his lips,
silencing him. “This is what I want, Gaston. I want you to touch me, my love,
and make me forget about... make me forget about everything.”

     Her words were a plea from the soul and he
was seized with passion and fury all over again. His lips slanted over hers,
tongues searching and tasting, relishing each other in worship. He kissed her
long and hard, his great hands roving her sweet body. To think of Guy taking
her brutally brought rage beyond rage, but his passion for her won out.

     Armor off, he took her on the baron's oaken
desk. Remington wrapped her body around him, weeping with joy and relief as he
entered her with sweet force. He never stopped kissing her the entire time,
thrusting his long length into her quivering body, becoming a physical part of
her. She was already ingrained into his mind like a scorching burn, never to be
removed and somehow he imagined that their bodies were melting into each other
and wishing that permanently, they would be of one form.

     She came rapidly, in a blinding shudder of
glory. He answered with a hoarse cry, whispering her name as his convulsions
died a lingering, magnificent death. Still, he continued to kiss her, to be a
part of her. Surely there was nothing sweeter on the earth.

     “Damn,” he muttered, still suckling on her
lower lip.

     “What?” she still clung to him, still
feeling his semi-arousal twitching within her body.

     He shook his head, grinning. “Those damn
pessaries are doing absolutely no good at all. I do not know why I bought the
things.”

     She laughed and he kissed her teeth because
they were so beautiful. “I have probably conceived triplets this day, knowing
how fruitful you and I seem to be together.”

     “God, I hope not,” he mumbled. “I have
enough trouble telling my daughters apart. Besides, I do not want any more
children.”

     She raised an eyebrow at him. “Want or not,
we take what we are given. And considering we have made love the last few times
without your pessaries, it may be possible that I have....”

     “Enough,” he kissed her again, loudly, and
withdrew himself. She moaned softly, her gaze hot on his semi-limp member as he
moved for his breeches. She sat up as he dressed and managed to clutch her
surcoat to her but not much more. She was fixed on his marvelous body as he
moved in the light.

     It was as if her entire abduction was a
fleeting, unpleasant memory. No longer did she feel the fear or the terror,
only a distinct displeasure. Her horror was vanished and she knew it was but
for Gaston's comfort and presence. Only he had the power to make her feel safe,
like nothing else in the world.

     He slapped a latch on his chest plate where
it met the back armor and glanced up at her, noticing she was still nude but
for the surcoat held against her chest. And she was watching him with the most
amazing eyes. He smiled. “What is it?''

     She shook her head slowly, her eyes raking
all over his form. “Nothing, my love. Nothing.”

     He looked puzzled a brief moment as he
finished with the rest of his armor. “Get dressed then. We have things to do.”

     She obeyed and he helped her with the stays
of the surcoat. When she was finished and her slippers were donned, Gaston held
out his arm to escort her from the room. She grasped his elbow with a smile.

     “I hope we were not too loud,” she glanced
at the desk behind them and then gasped when she saw a small wet spot on the
surface. Quickly, she wiped her hand across it until it disappeared and he
laughed softly.

     “You worry overly, Remi,” he said. “The
stain would have dried.”

     Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment
as he led her from the room, positive her host and his household had been
witness to their joyous reunion.

     Rather than ride in the dark back to Mt.
Holyoak, Gaston graciously accepted Lord Ingilsby's offer to stay at Ripley for
the night. That evening they had a group of entertainers as the evening's
diversion and Lady Anne seemed to think a great deal of their skill.

     Both Gaston and Remington were exceedingly
tired but they remained in the grand dining hall after the meal had been
cleared to enjoy the entertainment. There were jugglers, acrobats that walked
on their hands and feet bent over backward, and a woman with a duck that, she
said, divined the future. Remington watched it all with interest, completely
enjoying the feel of Gaston's hand on her knee as he conversed with Alex.

     She was relaxed and happy for the first
time in many a day and she enjoyed the lightness and worry-free state.
Considering their future together was still rather unclear, she was determined
to enjoy the present. As far as she knew, Gaston was still intent on sending
her to London without him and her heart sank when she thought of being
separated from him. Again. Would it never end?

     The woman with the duck came to the head
table and stopped directly in front of Remington.

     “Tell yer future, milady?” she asked
pleasantly.

     Remington glanced at Gaston, who shrugged
with a smile. The woman with the duck bade Remington to extend her hand, which
she did, and the duck nibbled on the soft flesh of her hand. Remington giggled
at the tickling until the woman commanded the duck to stop, and it did. Rubbing
her coarse hand over the nipped flesh a couple of times and mumbling some sort
of prayer, she peered closely at the skin.

     It took a moment for her to speak. “I see a
great many things, milady. Ye have left children that are dear to ye, have ye
not?” when Remington nodded, the woman dipped her head again.

     “I see... girls. Beautiful girls that look
like their father. And I see another son in the not-to-distant future.”

     Remington glanced at Gaston, who did not
look entirely amused by the prediction. She grinned at him, anyway, as the
woman continued. “I see a great deal of happiness, but not after…” she rubbed
at Remington's hand again and again, as one would rub at fogged glass.
Remington watched the woman closely as her eyes widened and she dropped
Remington's hand to the table. “That's all, milady. I see naught else.”

     She turned away rapidly and Remington was
confused. “Wait.” she called after the woman. “Wait a moment.”

     The woman did halt, but reluctantly.
Slowly, she turned to face her again. “Milady?”

     Remington could see something in the
woman's eyes, a flicker of fear. Deeply curious, she rose from her seat and
extended her hand again. “You saw more. What did you see?”

     “Nothing, milady,” the woman insisted, her
eyes lowered to the duck.

     “She asked you what else you saw,” Gaston's
voice was as low as thunder. “You will do her the courtesy of answering.”

     The woman looked at Gaston as if God
himself had just spoken to her. Hesitantly, she went back to the table but
refused to meet Remington's eyes. Again, she rubbed her skin and looked hard at
the tiny red welts. Remington observed the woman intently as she struggled with
her prediction.

     “I see….a great deal of pain,” she
whispered quickly. “I see a goodly amount of anguish. Possibly even death.”

     Remington tried not to react to the
prophecy but she couldn't help herself from pressing. “For me? Or for my
family?”

     The woman nervously glanced at Gaston,
whose expression was neutral. “Yer family, I suppose.”

     Remington swallowed and took her hand away.
After a moment, she forced herself to smile as she took her seat. “What would a
prediction be without death and destruction? If you told me my life would be
perfect, I’d think you to be a liar.”

The woman gazed back at
her with uncertainly. With a quick curtsy, she fled the table. Gaston leaned
close to Remington.

     “Do not tell me you believe that blather,”
he said softly.

     She maintained her flippant attitude. “Of
course not. But it is fun to hear. Especially when she tells me there is
another son in my future.”