Gaston looked at him a moment. “I do not understand, my lord. What bargain?”
Lord Brimley studied Gaston a moment. “The castle. Do they come with the castle as fixtures or are they prisoners of the crown as well?”
“They are not prisoners, my lord,” Gaston replied evenly. “I have made them welcome.”
Brimley walked towards Gaston, slow, deliberate steps, yet not provocative. He looked extremely concerned in a fatherly sort of way, his brow furrowed. He glanced at his sons a moment before turning back to Gaston.
“Before we go any further, my lord, I would ask you one thing,” he said respectfully. “If Sir Guy’s family are not prisoners as you say they are not, then I should like to take them with me when I leave. I would offer them safe haven in my fortress rather than leave them here with Henry’s guard dog.”
Had the man delivered the message in anything other than an even, polite tone, Gaston would have taken tremendous offense. Yet he could see that the man was genuinely concerned for Remington and her brood. He was surprised.
“They are quite safe here, my lord, I assure you,” he replied. “I see no reason to displace them.”
Brimley let out a sharp sigh, the only outward sign of irritation. His leather gloves slapped at his thigh. “Do not misunderstand me, Sir Gaston. I harbor no love for Sir Guy, but Lady Remington’s father was a friend of mine. I must be frank with you and tell you that I am vastly uncomfortable with four young women in a nest of soldiers. They have suff… that is to say; my wife and daughter would take good care of them. And they would be away from this tremendous war machine.”
Gaston observed the man intently. “You are correct when you say they have suffered. But they are safe now and I swear to you on my oath as a knight that no harm has, or will come, to them. They are perfectly safe remaining here at Mt. Holyoak.”
Brimley peered at Gaston curiously, surprised the man knew of Sir Guy’s cruelty. Or was it possible that they were not speaking of the same thing? He was confused a moment, trying to sort out his train of thought. He very much wanted to take Lady Remington and her sisters away from Mt. Holyoak now that it was occupied, but the Dark One did not seem eager to be rid of them.
Was he, perchance, as deviant as their predecessor?
Gaston watched the man’s neck flush red and anticipated the man’s thoughts. In faith, he was greatly surprised to see suchconcern for women. And obviously, Lord Brimley knew of the atrocities that had been committed. Was Remington’s secret not such a secret, after all?
Lord Brimley looked up to try another approach when his eye caught something over Gaston’s shoulder. In fact, his sons turned their attention for the castle door and Gaston’s head snapped around. He knew before he even looked that Remington had made an appearance.
Her expression was most welcoming as she crossed the courtyard towards them. He was livid that she was interfering in his business, yet with the same thought he knew he had not told her that she was to stay away.
“Lord Brimley. What a surprise,” she said graciously, offering her hand to the old man. “I did not know you were coming.”
The baron took her hand and kissed it sweetly. “My lady, you grow more beautiful by the hour. Surely the angels are jealous.”
She blushed prettily; Remington was very polished in her feminine skills, in spite of everything. Her gaze moved beyond the aged baron to his sons.
“Greetings Walter, Clive,” she said pleasantly. “I am glad to see you looking well and whole.”
Gaston carefully analyzed his reaction when the men responded openly to Remington’s charm; jealousy filled him like a black tide, washing into every fiber of his body. Had he not been paying attention to it, he most likely would have run amuck and speared them all with his great broadsword in a fit of rage. As it was, he was somewhat prepared for his reaction, for he had had a similar experience once before. It was an amazing, frightening thing and he found himself swallowing hard, trying to fight it down like St. George battling the fearsome dragon.
Walter had Remington by the hand, speaking pleasantly to her as his brother stood by like an eager dog. Gaston’s stomach tightened into knots.
“We have business to attend to,” he mumbled to Lord Brimley, then raised his voice to Remington. “My lady, if you will excuse us, please?” It had taken tremendous control to utter that sentence without rushing to her and snatching her hand from that of the knights’.
Remington removed her own hand, thankfully, and smiled at Gaston. “Of course, my lord. My apologies for detaining you.”
His gaze lingered on her for a moment. She looked sweet and radiant, not at all like the defiant woman he had parted ways with earlier. He wondered if the show was for his benefit alone; mayhap she was planning sneaking Rory out of the castle while he was occupied.
He suddenly did not care if she was or not. For the first time in his life, he felt the urge to take a woman in his arms. Jolted by the urge, he tore himself away from her and preceded his guests into the castle.
Remington followed with Clive, going so far as to make sure the men were settled comfortably in the large solar and ordering refreshments. She was the consummate chatelaine, poised and perfect and beautiful.
She passed by him, laughing pleasantly at a comment from Clive when he reached out and grabbed her arm gently. He was seated in a great high-back chair and Remington bumped up against his massive arm, smiling expectantly at him. They were nearly on the same level.
“Lord Brimley expressed concern for your welfare,” he said. “He seems to feel that you are threatened here at Mt. Holyoak surrounded by my soldiers. Do you feel threatened?”
Remington looked surprised. She looked to Lord Brimley. “Surely not, my lord. Sir Gaston and his men have been most chivalrous.”
Brimley looked flustered and cleared his throat. “Truly I have only been thinking of your welfare, my lady. I proposed to takeyou and your sisters back with me to Crayke simply to keep you from underfoot with so many soldiers about. I meant no offense.”
Remington did not realize she was holding Gaston’s hand, although he had never been more acutely aware of anything in his life. “As much as I appreciate your concern, I am quite content to remain here at Mt. Holyoak,” she said. “However, Rory is another matter. She is most distressed with recent events and has been difficult to deal with. Mayhap you could take Rory back to Crayke Castle for a time, at least until she gathers her wits.”
