The Dark One: Dark Knight (9 page)

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Authors: Kathryn le Veque

BOOK: The Dark One: Dark Knight
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     “We have been working since you left,”
Nicolas said.

     Gaston nodded.  “Very well, then.  As for
the moment, I intend to take a bath and a hot meal and I shall send for you
when I am finished.  There is much to discuss.”

     A woman with bright red hair suddenly
emerged into the bailey and began to march purposely across the compound, away
from Gaston and his men.

     “Hey!  You there!” Nicolas shouted at her. 
“I told you to stay to the castle!”

     Rory continued to walk away from him,
intent on going to the stables. She had a leggy gelding she was fond of riding
and planned for a long ride this day.  She heard the knight yelling at her, but
she ignored him soundly.

     Nicolas ran after her.  Patrick and Gaston
watched him jog across the courtyard.

     “How have the women behaved in my absence?”
Gaston asked, a twinkle in his eye.

     “Well, for the most part,” Patrick
replied.  “But that red-head is a banshee.  Nicolas thought there was a truce
between them after he spanked her our first night and was pleased when she
graciously drew him a bath last eve.  Fact was, she put some kind of coloring
into the water and he did not realize it until he got out of the tub and was
dyed a lovely shade of yellow. She is supposed to stay to her room, but
obviously, she is not.”

     Gaston took a slow, deep breath as he
watched his youngest cousin grab Rory by the arms and begin his verbal assault.

     “Unremarkable.  I would have expected no
less from a witless young girl,” he removed his helm.  “Confine her to the
vault until I decide what to do with her.  I shall not have her disrupting my
knights, and especially Nicolas.  He is too hot-tempered to deal with her and I
am afraid he might hurt her.”

     Patrick nodded, leaving Gaston to go to his
brother and the redhead.  Gaston did not give them a second glance, even as he
entered the castle and heard the young girl cursing a blue streak as the
knights physically carried her to the vault.

     He took a flight of smaller stairs to the
second floor, looking forward to soaking in hot water.  Yet he paused here and
there, glancing in rooms and checking alcoves.  He had only taken a brief tour
of the castle and set about reacquainting himself as he made his way to his
room.

     The keep of Mt. Holyoak reminded him of the
White Tower, a massive place with a myriad of rooms and passages. As he rounded
the second floor landing, he suddenly plowed head-on into a small, female body
and sent her crashing to the floor.

     Jasmine looked up at Gaston with shock and terror,
sitting quite squarely on her behind.

     “My apologies,” he said, reaching down and
pulling her to her feet, studying her curiously.  She was a delicate, lovely
girl with blue eyes and straight blond hair, but not nearly as beautiful as her
eldest sister. “You are Lady Jasmine, are you not?”

     She nodded, rubbing her backside.  “Aye, my
lord.”

     He acknowledged her with a slight nod. 
“Then, if you are not injured, I shall be on my way.”

     Jasmine stepped aside and gave him a wide
berth, turning to watch him as he marched down the hall.  Had she not been so
frightened of him, she would have thought him to be a ruggedly handsome devil. 
He was so tremendously masculine that there was no other way to describe him. 
But she did not think of men in terms of handsome or desirous; men were
terrible, vile creatures and she generally hated the sex.     Rubbing her bottom
once more, she continued on her way.

     Gaston reached out to open his door and was
cautious when he saw the door slightly ajar.  Inside his room, he could hear
banging about and his sword drew forth from its sheath in a clean, swift
movement.  Carefully, he inched the door open.

     He had hardly taken a step into the room
when he was suddenly flooded with the scent of lavender. He heard a good deal
of splashing now, pouring water, and deduced that no one lay in wait for him.
Unmistakably, someone was taking a bath in his room and he had vague suspicions
as to who the culprit was.  The lavender gave it away.

     Remington sat in a huge tub in the center
of the chamber, her head wet and her hands vigorously lathering a white cake of
soap.  The clothes she had been wearing to gather flowers in lay in a pile by
the hearth, while still other garments were carefully laid out on the bed.  He
was amazed that it had taken her so little time to prepare a bath and plunge
into it; he had seen her not ten minutes before.

     He pushed into the room; his eyes riveted
to her back the color of fresh cream.  Never had he seen such pure, flawless
skin and it amused him that Remington had yet to notice him.

     “What are you doing in my room?” he asked.

     Remington shrieked, immersing herself in
the water up to her chin.  Her eyes were so huge they threatened to leap from
their sockets as she turned to him.

     “My lord!” she gasped.  “I thought…. I had
no idea that …oh!”

     A corner of his lips turned up.  “You
thought
what
?”

     Her cheeks were a delightful shade of pink;
she was deeply mortified.  “I was dirty after gathering flowers this morn and…I
thought you were too busy in the bailey for some time.  I had hoped to take my
bath and be gone in plenty of time.”

     “Why did not you simply take the tub to
your room?” he asked.

     “Because it is too heavy for the female
servants to carry it, my lord, and the men are too old,” she explained.  “We
must do all of our bathing in this room.”

     “I see,” he said.  Much to her horror, he
was moving closer.  “I could have moved it for you.”

     “I did not want to be a bother, my lord,”
she said, eyeing him warily.  “As I said, I had hoped to be done well before
you returned.”

     “Yet I have returned and you are not
finished,” he said.

     Remington was starting to shake; she was
not only embarrassed, she was terrified.  He had the same look Guy had right
before he….

     “I am finished now,” she said, her voice
rising with fright.  “If you will but allow me a moment to dry myself, I shall
be gone.”

     Her sudden terror caught him by surprise;
what had he said?  Yet he realized that his mere presence frightened her and,
for once, he was sorry.  He did not want to frighten this woman, although he
knew not why.

     “Nay, madam, take your time,” he said,
backing away.  “I have duties that can use my attention.  I am in no hurry.”

     But Remington was ignoring his words,
hell-bent on leaving the room as hastily as she could.  She did not like the
look in his eye.  She knew what he was thinking and she wanted no part of the
horrible, unspeakable deed.  Stripping her naked, putting his hands roughly on
her, and…

     “If you will turn around, please.” she
asked, her voice cracking.  Much to her shame, she was beginning to cry.  She
simply wanted to be out of the tub and away from him.

     “Truly, Lady Remington, you may finish your
bath,” he insisted, his voice growing gentler.  “I will antagonize you no
further.”

     She did not even wait for him to turn
around; she shot out of the tub and grabbed the huge piece of drying linen, her
sobs evident now and her body shaking.  Puzzled and concerned, he watched her
jerky movements, wondering what he had done to upset her so.  But even as her
mental state concerned him, it did nothing to dampen his appreciation of her
nude body.  From the brief glimpse he had stolen, he could see that she was
absolutely perfect.

     She was sniffling and coughing as she
wrapped the linen about her.  Snatching the dress, she wrapped that around her
haphazardly as well, trying desperately to cover herself from him.  Gaston
could see how terribly upset she was and he felt the least bit guilty.

     “My lady,” he moved to the door.  “Please
finish your bath.  I shall bother you not and I am sorry to have upset you in
the first place.”

     “You did not upset me.” she insisted
loudly, wiping at her nose. “I am leaving now.”

     Holding all of her garments to her
recklessly, she started to dash past him, desperate to leave his presence.  But
he reached out to stop her, his massive hands grasping her upper arms and
covering them completely.

     “What have I said to upset you so?” he
asked, not unkindly.

     “No.” she shrieked, trying to pull away
from him.  She was shaking so badly that her knees gave way and she fell
backward, smacking into a chair and landing on her behind.  She looked up at
him as if he were planning on eating her alive and her arms wound themselves
around her body protectively.  “Oh, please…do not….”

     He was stunned.  She was like a panicked
animal, desperately trying to escape whatever terror was hounding her.  He’d
never seen such a violent reaction to his presence, but he furthermore wasn’t
so sure it was entirely him.  How could it be?  He’d done nothing to warrant
this behavior.

     Armor and all, he slowly crouched when he
stood, several feet away from her.  His smoky gray eyes were wide with concern.

     “Do not
what
? He asked gently.

     Remington blinked at him, aware that she
had let her fear get the better of her.  Where Guy was concerned, she was
always irrational with terror and she was suddenly deeply ashamed of her
actions.  She couldn’t stop herself from slipping into hot tears of
embarrassment and fright.

     “Why are you crying, angel?” he asked
again, his deep voice more soothing than anything she had ever heard in her
life.

     But she couldn’t speak, instead, burying
her face in her hands.  She wished he would simply go away and leave her to
compose herself.

     He watched her sob for a moment, feeling a
strange tugging at his heart.  Then, very slowly as not to provoke her further,
he stood and removed his plate armor.  It dropped with little noise against the
wall by the door, piece by piece.  He shirked his mail hauberk and trews and
his heavy black boots. When he was free of the equipment, he took several
careful steps towards Remington, being mindful not to get too close.  She continued
to sob softly, absolutely drained emotionally.

     “You are going to make yourself ill,” he
said softly.  “Get up off the floor, my lady, and sit by the fire.”

     His voice jolted her a bit and she wiped
her eyes and face, clutching the garments awkwardly.

     “I do apologize, my lord, for my display,”
she said hoarsely, trying to rise.  “I would return to my room now and leave
you in peace.”

     He wanted to help her to her feet but he
wasn’t sure how she would react to him.  Clumsily, she stood and picked her way
across the cold floor to the door.  Her drying hair was a mass of dark spiral
curls, dampening her back but infinitely charming.  He watched her with gentle
eyes, something completely out of character for him.

     She closed the door softly and left him
standing there, puzzled to the core.  He somehow knew that Guy Stoneley was
responsible for the outburst and he was truly curious as to what she had meant
by ‘do not’.  Do not hit me?  Do not hurt me?  Do not…? His head came up
sharply and he stared at the closed door.

     Do not rape me?

     He wondered.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

     Remington avoided him for the rest of the
day.  She was polite and respectful as always, but she had difficulty looking
him in the eye and he was sorry.  But he had other things on his mind, more
pressing matters that were occupying his attention.  After the evening meal on
that night, he met with Arik, Antonius, Patrick, and Nicolas in the solar to
discuss a few points.

     “I want every feudal baron and earl in
Yorkshire to meet here with me to discuss their role in Henry’s reign,” Gaston
said.  “I want them to understand that I am Henry’s arm of strength in
Yorkshire and will brook no disobedience.”

     “They will not swear their fealty,” Arik
said.

     “They will if they expect to survive,”
Gaston said in a low voice.  “They will be loyal to me and I, in turn, will not
destroy them.  A most agreeable arrangement.”

     Arik shook his head.  “Mayhap you should
wait, Gaston.  They already know you are here.  Mayhap fear alone will keep
them reined.”

     “I do not want them simply to behave, I
want their oath,” Gaston replied.  Not only am I to control greater Yorkshire,
but I find myself in the position to control West Yorkshire, South Yorkshire
and Humberside.  Henry has powerful knights stationed in all three of these
shires, but those men will answer to me.”

     Arik look surprised, as did the other
knights.  “You never mentioned this detail,” he said dryly. “So, in essence,
Henry has sent you here to keep a firm hand on most of this enemy land.”

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