The Dark One: Dark Knight (38 page)

     “You are wrong,” she whispered. 

     “I am not,” he countered softly.  “You know
I have always had a weakness for you, love.  I shall make you happy, I
promise.”

     She took a deep breath, fighting for
control.  A thin smile played on her lips.  “So that I may be your whore? 
Really, Derek, how hypocritical!  You accuse me of being another man’s lover,
yet you would have me do the same thing with you.”

     Derek’s face went tight.  “You need me.”

     She looked surprised.  A guffaw of laughter
bubbled from her throat.  “Need you?  Why on earth do I need you?”

     “Because I am the only one who would care
for you, treat you as you should be treated.  I’d take care of your sisters,
too, so that they would never know want or need.” He was truly sincere and
approached her with open hands.  “Why can you not understand, Remington?  I am
saving you from hell so that your life may be happy.”

     “With you,” she supplied drolly.

     “Aye,” his eyes glittered.  “With
me
.”

     She found the entire conversation difficult
to believe.  She had known Derek since they had been small for they had been
distant neighbors.  He was a few years older than she, always an irresponsible
lad, but he had been very friendly to her.  She never imagined he had been
harboring feelings for her because he had always been absorbed in himself.

     She put up her hands as if to shoo him
away.  “This is ridiculous.  Please take me home.”

     “I will not,” he said sharply.  “You are
coming with me.”

     “I do not want to come with you!” she
yelled at him.

     He watched her as she marched back to her
sisters, her back rigid and her fists clenched.  God, why was this so
difficult?  When he had set out two days ago, it had been to rescue damsels in
distress.  Of course, one of the damsels was meant for him.  But now he found
himself holding unwilling females who did not want or need his help.

     It was madness, and certainly not worth his
life.

     “I am trying to save you, you silly wench!”
he held out his arms in exasperation.

     “I do not want to be saved!” she shouted.

     He had had enough of Lady Remington and her
frail sister.  His jaw clenching in determination, he took a step toward her
menacingly.  They were all going whether they wanted to or not.

     A thin wail pierced the air and suddenly
there was an arrow in front of Derek, planted in the ground not six inches in
front of him. Derek blanched and took a step back, but suddenly another arrow
sailed in behind him and plowed into the earth.  Paralyzed by the obvious
message, Derek began screaming orders for his men to prepare for battle.

     Remington turned her attention in the
direction the arrows had come from and was astonished to see soldiers and
knights bursting through the trees, riding side by side as they thundered
toward them.  Derek’s knights were running to the mounts, the soldiers were
fumbling with their weapons, and Derek seemed frozen to the spot.

     Riding alone ahead of the line of men was
the unmistakable form of the Dark Knight.

     Remington yanked her sisters to their feet
and they plastered themselves against the trunk of the huge oak, standing back
as Gaston’s men engaged Derek’s sadly outnumbered force.  Cries and the clash
of metal resounded through the thick air.

     Gaston was riding straight for Derek, a
wicked-looking crossbow in his left hand.  Taran thundered over the earth like
an unnatural being, snorting and kicking up great clumps of dirt.  But Gaston
never wavered in the saddle, never flinched, and Remington could see that he
wasn’t even gripping the reins.  He was reloading the crossbow as the horse
crossed the clearing.

     Derek bolted, straight for Remington. She
caught him out of the corner of her eye and tried to escape him, but he grabbed
her savagely and hauled her up against his body.  Gaston knew a shield when he
saw one and slowed Taran to a dancing halt several feet away.

     “Call off your attack, de Russe.” Derek
yelled.

     “Let her go,” Gaston replied calmly.

     Derek put his hand to her throat and
Remington struggled furiously.  “Call it off, I say.”

     Gaston’s helmed head gazed down a moment
before turning slightly in the direction of the fighting.  A loud, shrill
whistle suddenly penetrated the air sharply and all of Gaston’s men, if they
were able, suddenly ceased their onslaught.  Every de Russe soldier looked to
their lord expectantly.  It was the most amazing thing Remington had ever seen.

     Even Derek was impressed, briefly thrown
off balance at the display of solidarity.  But he rapidly regained himself. 
“That’s better,” he said.  “Now, de Russe, since I seem to have the advantage,
I will make the rules.  Firstly, you will allow me and my men safe passage
across the Ure and all the way to Knaresborough.  The women will go with us.  Secondly,
if there is any interruption from you, the ladies will not fair favorably.  Do
you understand?”

     Gaston popped the butt-end of the crossbow
on his thigh.  “I understand.”

     Another faint wail filled the air and
suddenly Derek lurched as if he had been hit with Thor’s hammer.  His hands
dropped from Remington and she shrieked, scooting away from him as he fell onto
the ground, dead from an arrow to the back of his neck.

     Stunned, she stared at the body a moment
before lifting her gaze questioningly, seeing Arik emerge from behind a
neighboring oak, a Welsh crossbow in his grip.  He smiled at Remington and she
suddenly felt ill.

     “You did not have to kill him,” she said to
Gaston, starting to shake violently. 

     He did not reply, but lifted a hand to his
men.  It seemed to be the sign for retreat, because suddenly his men were
disengaging themselves from Derek’s soldiers and moving across the grass to
find their mounts.  Only then did he spur Taran forward, reining the animal
next to her.

     “Are you very well?” he asked.

     She let out a ragged sigh, dropping her
gaze and moving to her sisters, who were still flattened against the tree.  She
grabbed hold of both of them, hugging them tightly.  Gaston dismounted,
securing the crossbow to his saddle before walking over to the women.

     “We need to return, ladies, for it will be
dark soon,” he said gently.

     They continued to cling to each other a
moment until Jasmine caught sight of Antonius.  In a burst of tears, she broke
from her sisters and threw herself in his arms.  Nicolas, too, waited patiently
for Skye to be free of her eldest sister before tenderly ushering her to his
steed.

     Remington stood by the tree, shaking and
ill.  She refused to meet Gaston’s eye, too many of Derek’s words ringing about
in her head.  She should have been happy to see him, grateful in the very least
that he had rescued her, but she found that all she could feel was uncertainty
and bitterness.

     “Come on, Remi,” he said softly.  “Let’s go
home.”

     She looked at him, her body literally
hurting with all of the emotions she was feeling.  “I do not want to ride with
you.”

     He looked at her a moment.  “Why not?”

     “I just do not,” she whispered.  “I would
rather ride with Arik.”

     He did not move.  “Are you angry because
the knight is dead?” 

     It was extremely difficult to control
herself.  “He came to save us.  From you.  He thought that all of the things I
said at the fair were forced, and that you were actually holding all of us
prisoner.  He thought he was doing us a favor.” Her emotions, her anger, her
hurt were gaining momentum and her lip began to quiver.  “He wanted us to go
live with him in Knaresborough and he wanted me to be his woman.  He knew you
were my lover and out of his mouth I heard all of the things you have said to
me, sweet lies and cunning plans to make me want you.  He said you would tire
of me and move on to the next whore.”

     Her voice rose to a shrill, shaking tone
and he moved forward quickly, grabbing her arms and forcing her to walk with
him.  She cried and struggled, trying to pull away from him, but his grip was
like iron.

     “Calm down, angel,” he whispered.  The helm
came off and went thudding to the ground as he walked.  “Walk with me and calm
yourself.”

     “Let go of me!” She twisted until her arms
hurt, but he would not budge.  She finally took to crying pitifully and he
stopped near the river’s edge, far away from his men, and faced her.

     “Do not you know he would say anything to
make you believe that he was right in what he did?” he said softly.

     She jerked back from him but she did not
run away.  “I never thought he was right in what he did and I begged him to
return us home, but the things he said…they made so much sense.  It was as if
he could read my mind.”

     “What else did he say?” he demanded
carefully.

     She sniffled loudly and the sobs started
fresh.  “He told me you were only kind to Dane to gain access to my bed.  He
said that the gifts, the sweet words, the touching, it was all a lie.  He said
that I was a whore.  And that’s true, I am.”

     He shook his head. “I told you I never
wanted to hear that word again.”

     “It’s true!” she snapped savagely.  “I
shall never be your wife, Gaston, so what else am I but a whore?”

     His eyes glazed with pain, her pain and
his.  “I will not hear this. You know very well that you mean the world to me.”

     She turned away from him, her pain cutting
like a knife through her soul.  “That may be, but it will never be an honorable
relationship.  It will be secret and clandestine,” she whirled to him.  “I
cannot live with the fact that I will never be more than your mistress.  I am
selfish, I know, but I want everything, Gaston.  I want to be your wife; I want
to bear heirs to honor you.  Do not you realize that if I conceive a child, it
will be a bastard?  Do you truly want your children to bear that title?  It’s
as bad as being labeled a whore.”  She suddenly sank to her knees, her face in
her hands.  “I cannot do this to myself, or to you.”

     He stood there a long time, staring down at
her head.  His chest was twisting in agony, painful because all of her words
made sense.  She was right, and he had been so wrong and so entirely selfish. 
In the distance, his men were mounted and ready to go and he raised his head
from her long enough to give them the hand-signal to retreat.  He would catch
up with them later; for now, he had a much larger problem on his mind.

     When his army was trudging across the field
toward the road, he sat heavily opposite her.  Pieces of armor came off to
better allow him to sit comfortably.

     “What would you have me do?” he rasped. 
“Tell me and I shall do it.  Tell me to move heaven and earth for you and I
shall do it.”

     She shook her head.  “There is nothing you
can do.  I was stupid to have allowed myself to respond to you in the first
place.  I knew the risks, I knew that two marriages stood in our way, but I
allowed myself to love you anyway and that was my gravest mistake.”

     “And my greatest triumph,” he responded in
a hoarse whisper.  “You have allowed me to taste so much in this life that I
never knew existed, Remi.  I will not let you go.”

     She removed her hands from her face and
wiped her eyes.  “I want you to.”

     He was stung by the simple words, feeling
pain such as he had never experienced slice through him.  He couldn’t let her
go.  He would sooner kill himself than live without her.  He reached out and
grabbed her, pulling her roughly against his chest and she let out a yelp of
surprise, her eyes meeting his smoky orbs.

     “You are mine, Lady Remington.  I cannot
believe you listened to the foolish words of an idiot and allowed yourself to
think for one moment that I was deceiving you, that I would not be faithful to
you until I die,” he growled gently, his hands leaving her arms and grasping
her face reverently.  “Do not you know of my love for you?  How can you
possibly doubt my sincerity when I have done naught but show you and tell you
how much you mean to me?”

     Her mouth hung open at the passion of his
statement and, as always, she instantly believed him.  She could see the naked
pain in his eyes and she knew his words to be true.  Slowly, her fingers crept
onto his armored shoulders.

     “I do not want to be your mistress, and I
do not want our children to be bastards,” she whispered.  “I want us to be a
family, to love each other, and I want to bear you ten sons as strong and fine
as you are.  But I know it cannot be and it must stop.”

     “I won’t let you stop,” he put his lips to
her forehead, closing his eyes as her scent filled his nose.

     She let out a harsh gasp as his lips
caressed her, the sudden fire of need filling her.  He had the power to render
her absolutely senseless and even she knew, in spite of her words, that she
could not stay away from him.