“May I ask what I did to deserve that attack?” he asked, his voice like rolling thunder.
Remington began to shake, from her wet dress and from fear. “My lord, pray forgive. We thought you were my sisters.”
“I see,” he said evenly, running his fingers through his hair to slick it back. “No wonder they directed me up the stairs.”
“They did?” Remington asked, her heart sinking. “Oh, my lord, I am so sorry. Had we but known it was you….”
He wiped his eyes, noticing she was soaked and the wet dress left very little to the imagination. “What are you doing?”
Remington was miserable. She waved her son and cousin back up the stairs, hoping they would escape the Dark Knight’s wrath. “Seeking revenge,” she said hopelessly. It sounded silly, even to her.
“Revenge on your sisters for getting you wet?” he motioned to her dress.
“Nay, Sir Nicolas did this,” she said, noticing that his eyebrows shot up with surprise. She continued quickly. “But they had thrown water on him first. He was seeking retribution and thought I was them.”
Dane and Charles were almost to the top of the stairs and Gaston let them go; he was not interested in the boys. He wasfocused entirely on Remington for several reasons, one being that she looked entirely delicious in the clinging dress.
“And he threw water on you?” he clarified.
“Aye,” she answered, defeated.
He nodded slowly, eyeing her a moment before turning as if he were going to descend the steps. Instead, he opened his mouth.
“Nicolas.” he bellowed, so loud it echoed off the walls and nearly scared the wits from Remington.
“Please, my lord, do not punish him,” she pleaded, moving timidly towards him. “It was a mistake.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Go change your surcoat. I understand you wish to speak with me, and you shall. After I deal with my knight.”
“Sir Gaston,” she said. “Sir Nicolas did nothing wrong. He was simply attempting to dispense justice with my sisters. An eye for an eye, as it were.”
A chill shot up his spine when she said his name. Her voice had a soothing, sensual quality, anyway, but when she spoke his name, it was like an open caress. He turned his full attention to her.
“I understand your explanation, but it does not excuse his behavior,” he said, trying not to stare at the pert breasts almost directly in his face. “If you will excuse me, then.”
She looked so sad that he almost gave into her and it shocked him. He gave in to no one, man or woman, King or challenger. Her huge eyes were staring back at him and he found his attention drawn to her lips; shaped like a budding flower and nearly the color of a peach. Surely they tasted as well, too. He found himself fighting an overwhelming urge to kiss her.
But she lowered her gaze and turned away, making it much easier for him to fight off his urge. He watched her ascend the remainder of the stairs, watching the sway of her bottom as ittantalized him. By God, there was nothing about that woman that did not taunt and tantalize him into insanity. Unused to dealing with such a temptation, he found himself distracted and moody, unfortunately for Nicolas.
*
Remington changed intoa cotton surcoat of shell pink and let her hair from its net, running her fingers through the rapidly drying locks. In the heat, she was dry in no time and waited nervously for Gaston to come calling.
Aye, he made her nervous, but it wasn’t so much because she feared him anymore. It was more the way he made her feel when he looked at her, a strange shakiness that she did not understand. Her heart thumped wildly and her knees quaked when he trained those smoky gray eyes on her, mysterious and veiled, yet inquisitive at the same time. It was difficult to describe and even more difficult for her to understand.
It never occurred to her that he was handsome. He was just a man and she had never looked at a man in those terms. The fact that his raw masculinity reached out and embraced her like a glove never occurred to her either. She was far too fearful to allow any of those ideas into her head. Too well trained to ignore the obvious in light of self-preservation.
It wasn’t long before there was a knock at her door. She opened it to old Eudora, bustling in with an armful of linens. Remington let out a sigh and sank into a chair.
“Heard what happened, Missy,” Eudora said, busying herself. “Jasmine and Skye are still missing.”
Remington made a wry face. “As well they should after what they did.”
“Mayhap so,” Eudora replaced the covers on the down pillows. “I also heard that the Dark Knight punished one of hisknights for watering you. Sent him to the vault, to Lady Rory’s cell.”
“What?” Remington shot off the chair. “He put Sir Nicolas in the same cell with my sister?”
“Aye, he did,” Eudora said. “Told him that they had both better come out of the vault smiling come morn or he would do something drastic.”
