“It’s just that…you called me Remi?”
He blinked at the total change of subject, seeing that she was looking up at him with wide eyes. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”
“Aye, it is,” she nodded slowly. “But you have never used it.”
He shrugged. “I have heard your sisters call you by it,” he said. “I won’t use the name if it offends you.”
“Nay, it does not,” she said quickly, offering him a small smile. “You may call me Remi if you want to.”
“I want to,” he looked down his nose at her, but there was a faint smile on his lips. “Now answer my question. Why are you so worried?”
He was so tall she had to crane her neck sharply to look him in the face. “I would be honest with you, then,” she said quietly. “As I told you last night, my sisters are…compromised, thanks to my husband. I do not want them being hurt.”
“Hurt by what?” he wanted to know.
“Hurt by men who are looking for virgins to wed,” she snapped softly. “They are not maidens.”
He understood, sort of. “I am sure Antonius and Nicolas can deal with that fact.”
She stopped, facing off against him. “Gaston, purity of a bride is very important to a prospective husband. I will not allow your men to hurt my sisters because they fell victim to something beyond their control. But more importantly, if they are not looking for a wife, I do not want them taking advantage of my sisters. Being a whore to one man is quite enough.”
He crossed his massive arms in front of his broad chest, arms as thick around as she was. “So what would you have me do? Find out their intentions before I allow them to pursue your sisters? That is a little overbearing, do not you think?”
“Nay, I do not,” Remington said hotly. “You just do not understand.”
She spun away from him but he grabbed her, pulling her back against him. For a brief second she couldn’t breathe as his eyes bore down into her and her body went even hotter than it already was. Pressed against his chest, she wondered why her limbs tingled painfully and she tried to pull away, but he would not let her.
“I understand you are overprotective of your sisters,” he said, his voice a growl. “You must allow them to live their own lives, Remi. They’ll not always have you around to champion them.”
“I must protect them,” she insisted, a look of desperation filling her eyes. “I have always tried to protect them but I am not always successful. Gaston, I must do what I can.”
He fully understood her fears now. She was entirely helpless against her husband and she hated herself for it. His grip on her wrists loosened and he stroked the backs of her silky hands.
“Very well, angel,” he said softly. “I shall talk to my knights and find out what their intentions might be.”
“Thank you,” she was electrified by his gentle caressing. She’d never experienced anything so sweet, as small a gesture as it might be.
He gazed into her sea-crystal eyes, his expression soft. “Anything for you. Anything at all.”
Her cheeks flushed and he laughed softly, releasing her hands but again tucking one into his elbow.
A destrier burst through the undergrowth on the other side of the lake and Patrick rode into view. It took Remington a moment to realize Rory was astride behind him.
“Well…would you look at that?” she said with surprise. “He brought her.”
Gaston watched the chestnut destrier round the lake. “Patrick is quite convincing when he puts his mind to it. Lady Rory did not stand a chance.”
“Is that so?” Remington slanted an arrogant gaze at him. “Rory is fairly persuasive when she wants to be, as well. If she did not want to come, nothing he could have said would have convinced her.”
“Ah, but Rory relies on brute strength to accomplish her goals,” Gaston said. “Patrick relies on his wits.”
Remington’s mouth opened in outrage. “Are you saying my sister is stupid?”
“Not at all,” Gaston said steadily, passing her an amused glance from the corner of his eye. “The fact that she had agreed to come with Patrick proves that she has some intelligence.”
Remington put her hands on her hips. “You border on slander, Dark Knight.”
He looked at her fully. “I told you not to call me that.”
