She lifted her chin defiantly, but there was a good deal of humor to it. “My apologies, oh Devil’s Spawn.”
He put his hands on his hips, raising a disapproving eyebrow at her. “You saucy bit of baggage. I ought to blister your backside this instant.”
Her defiant stance bow down in an instant and she actually laughed at him, loudly. He raised both eyebrows, although his lips were twitching. “You think it funny, do you?”
Her eyes were bright at him. “I think you are funny, my lord.”
“I am not,” he mumbled, feigning irritation.
“Aye, you are and you are not even aware of it,” she let her gaze linger a moment longer before focusing back on her sister. “I would greet Rory, with your permission.”
“By all means,” he let her go.
He made his way back to Arik, still lying underneath the tree. He picked another apple from the basket and leaned back against the trunk of the ancient oak to enjoy it, his gaze never leaving Remington as she spoke animatedly to her sister.
“You are interested in Lady Stoneley,” Arik mumbled, his eyes closed.
“She is pleasant enough conversation,” Gaston replied.
Arik snorted, brushing a fly on his face. “Gaston, you have smiled more in the past few days than I have ever known you to smile in your life. And you are smiling at her. And the fact that we are here, resting under a tree when there is much work to be done, only reinforces my suspicions.”
Gaston munched on the apple, ignoring his only friend. Arik opened one eye. “I do not blame you, though. She’s incredible.”
Gaston continued to ignore him soundly, chewing on the last of the core and throwing it away. “Are we prepared for Lord Brimley on the morrow?”
“Aye,” Arik replied. “Being the closest baron, we received an answer from him the same day we sent the missive. He should be arriving by noon tomorrow.”
“Good,” Gaston said. “Hopefully the meeting with Brimley will establish a favorable climate for the rest of our talks. I want these meetings to be a mutual exchange of information, not a list of threats.”
Arik shrugged and rolled over onto his side. “’Twill be interesting to see what transpires, my lord.”
On the other side of the small lake, Remington screamed with laughter as Charles and Dane splashed at her. He could see Rory shaking her fists at the young men. It took him a moment to realize that Antonius and Jasmine were missing.
“Damn,” he muttered, pushing himself off the tree. “Where’s Antonius?”
Arik looked about weakly. “I do not know,” he replied. “But look; Nicolas and Rory are standing within a few feet of each other and have yet to raise their voices. Amazing.”
“Not really when you consider they spent the night together.” Gaston was concerned regarding the whereabouts of his knight and the lady. “I guessed they would either kill each other or emerge on pleasant terms. I am pleased it was the latter.”
Gaston wandered out from underneath the tree, his trained eyes roving the little dell they were in. Much to his relief, he saw Antonius and Jasmine sitting under a tree on the crest of a small rise not too far away and he scratched his head, irritated with himself for jumping to conclusions.
But truth was, he did not care what his men did on their own time. He was not a meddler; the fact of the matter was he did not want Remington to be angry with him should something unfavorable happen to her sister.
With a disgusted shake of his head, he turned back for Arik and the tree, wondering what other food was in the basket.
Remington suddenly let out a loud scream and he whirled, his body instinctively preparing for battle when he saw that she had gotten too close to the edge of the lake and Charles had pulled her in. He relaxed, smiling faintly as he watched her sputter and attempt to climb out of the lake. With every step she took, her young cousin would pull her further out into the water. Dane yelled happily in his cousin’s favor.
Remington was up to her waist when she grabbed hold of Charles’ fair head and dunked him under the water. He came up, sputtering and grabbed her before she could escape. Remington found herself completely submerged by her cousin and son, but not before Rory and Skye jumped in to the rescue. Within seconds, the water was churning with a good-natured family brawl.
“You are smiling again,” Arik stood next to Gaston, watching the goings-on.
Gaston made sure his smile vanished; truthfully, he had not realized he was grinning. He disregarded Arik’s presence and walked to the edge of the lake, watching Remington and Rory obliterate Charles. He was a strong young lad but no match against the two of them. Skye was hauling Dane from the water just as Charles conceded defeat.
“Mercy, Mercy, I beg you,” he pleaded.
Rory dunked his head under once more and quickly pulled him back up. “Swear on the Bible that Remington and I are the most powerful and cleverest women in the realm. Swear it.”
“I do,” Charles declared in mock fear. “You are the most powerful, brutal wenches in all of England.”
