Astonished, Gaston watched her as she fell back a pace to walk beside the horse, speaking in a sweet, soft voice and stroking his face. Taran’s lids half-closed with blissful attention.
“By God’s Bloody Rood,” Gaston muttered. Then, he actually snorted in amusement and Remington looked up.
“He is a sweet animal, my lord,” she said. “Is he always this calm?”
Gaston shook his head. “Nay, madam, that horse had been the scourge of many an enemy. In fact, I would say he has killed almost as many men as I have.”
They came to a halt. Remington put her hands on the horse’s head and lay her cheek against his nose, laughing when Taran’s big tongue licked at her. Gaston was so astonished he put his hand to his face in disbelief.
“He is as gentle as a lamb,” Remington declared. “I choose to disbelieve your slanderous statements against this animal, my lord. He is not a killer.”
A shadow of a smile creased Gaston’s lips. Taran had never even been that affectionate with him at the best of times and he was, frankly, flabbergasted.
“I assure you, madam, he is indeed formidable,” he said helplessly.
Remington smiled at him, a smile that hit him like a bolt of lightning. His reaction was so sharp that it was almost painful, but in the same breath he couldn’t ever remember seeing a more beautiful smile. His knees actually felt shaky and he cursed himself for his foolishness. Women were a nuisance, a bother, self-centered bitches with no purpose on earth other than togive a man pleasure and breed more males. Mari-Elle was living proof that a female was a useless, vile creature and he stuck firmly by his beliefs.
… Then why did he feel like a giddy squire?
He cleared his throat quietly and resumed walking. Remington continued beside him, a few feet away, and it took him a moment to realize that Taran was walking behind her. Not him, his master and keeper, buther.A stranger.
He mounted Taran at the bottom of the hill and cuffed the horse when he struggled against him. Remington continued to walk and he reined his dancing horse slightly behind her, following her up the hill. Irritated with his horse’s behavior, he did not even see Remington enter the castle as he halted his snorting beast to an unsteady halt.
There were several men there to greet him, his squire rushing to take hold of the animal and almost getting his hand nipped off in the process. Gaston dismounted and snapped harshly at the horse as Patrick and Nicolas strode up.
“Well?” he demanded of his cousins. “Give me a report.”
“All is well, my lord,” Patrick replied. “Nothing unusual to report.”
Gaston removed his mail gloves, letting his gaze rove the walls of the inner bailey. “The men looked well-positioned and the keep appears in order.”
“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 redhead 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 herounded 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.
