“Did you enjoy the pork last night?” Remington broke into his thoughts. “I thought you might enjoy the change.”
He glanced at her with a half-smile. “I did indeed. You are highly perceptive.”
“I am glad,” she said, and then chuckled. “Because the cook informed me this morning that we have nearly three hundred pounds of pork left that must be eaten within the next day or it will go bad. I hope you like pork a great deal.”
He snorted, amused. “Look around you, Remi. I have six hundred soldiers that will guarantee the pork will be eaten.”
“You should see the kitchen,” Remington explained softly, smiling. “There is so much pork it looks as if a pig exploded.”
His grip on her elbow tightened as he chuckled. “As long as it does not smell like a sty, I will tolerate a pig explosion. But next time, let’s only slaughter one pig, shall we?”
She shrugged. “I thought your men would eat more than they did. Their appetites were disappointing.”
“’Tis not unusual in this heat,” he remarked, casting her a glance. “I did not see you eat. In fact, you have yet to dine with my knights and me. Why is that?”
She met his gaze. “Because I thought you would prefer the company of your men, my lord. I am content to make sure your meals run smoothly.”
They paused at the doorway to the castle, looking at each other. Gaston scratched his chin thoughtfully.
“You will dine with us tonight, Lady Remington,” he said. “You and your son. Let the servants take care of the running of the meal.”
Remington smiled slowly. “Is that an order or a request?”
He cocked an imperious eyebrow. “Take it as you wish. Only I expect to see you by my side tonight.”
Her smile broadened, her dimples deepening and his heart fluttered against his ribs. “’Twould be an honor, my lord.”
He held her eyes a moment, his smoky eyes openly caressing her. She was so unlike any woman he had ever met, but he hastened to change the subject. The mood was growing far too warm and making him vastly uncomfortable. Uncomfortable because he had never before had feelings of this magnitude.
“Where is your husband’s cousin?” he asked. “I have hardly seen the boy.”
Remington pointed to the only tower on the castle of Mt. Holyoak, a massive cylinder six stories high. “He keeps a room in the tower, my lord, where he likes to experiment. He spends most of his days up there.”
“Experiment? With what?” Gaston strained his eyes against the bright sun.
“As you have seen, my husband is an avid reader and has collected quite a bit of material, including Arabic treatises that delve into alchemy and other sciences,” she folded her white hands in front of her, gazing into his face with a look that made him sweat. “Charles is highly intelligent and he likes to experiment with the recipes in the books.”
He wondered if she knew how much her eyes affected him. “Has he discovered anything useful?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Not yet. But he will, I am sure.”
Nicolas suddenly burst out of the castle door, his eyes wide. He was dressed in most of his armor, his helm on his head. Butthe strangest phenomenon was occurring; it was as if his helm were raining on his head, for his entire face was wet, dripping onto his chest armor. He looked right at Remington.
“Where is your sister?” he demanded.
Gaston spoke before she could answer. “You will not use that tone with her. Ever.”
Nicolas passed a glance at his cousin, his cheeks flushing. “My apologies. Might you know where Lady Rory is, my lady?”
Remington was looking at him with morbid curiosity; the water running from his helmet glistened suspiciously. “I have not seen her this morn. What is the matter with your helm, Sir Nicolas?”
His eyes widened as if he had just been challenged. Then the helm came off and Remington was astounded to see great clumps of white pieces on his head, intermingled with yellow slime.
“She put eggs in my helm, my lady, and I failed to see them until it was too late,” he said with controlled anger. “Might you have any idea where to find her?”
Remington should have been mortified to the bone. But, instead, laughter was the first thing that popped into her mouth. She tried to control her giggles, but she couldn’t. Within seconds she was laughing hysterically.
Gaston eyed his knight critically. “Go wash that stuff off.”
