Gaston had blood on his hands as he checked her pulse again. It was virtually non-existent, but it was still there. He shook his head. “Send for her physician.”
Arik left the dank, dark cell. Gaston crouched beside Mari-Elle, watching her life’s blood drain away, knowing there was nothing he could do and not particularly sorry. In a sense, he was relieved; as cruel as the thought was, he was glad that some strange ailment had claimed her life. It had saved him the trouble.
Furthermore, when he told Trenton that his mother had passed on, he wanted to be able to tell him that it was of natural causes. Not because his father had wrung the life from her.
She died as he sat and watched. When the physician arrived twenty minutes later, the man did not look at all surprised. In fact, when he saw the state of his mistress, he slowed his movements considerably and seemed to take his time drawing forth his instruments and potions.
Gaston watched the thin healer, rising as the man ducked beside the body and examined her quite thoroughly. Arik andNicolas had accompanied the physician and stood crowded in the doorway as the careful investigation was completed.
The moments passed slowly and the smell of urine was sharp to the nose as the knights waited for the healer to complete his task. Finally, the aged man stood up and began to replace his instruments.
“Well?” Gaston asked. “What killed her?”
The physician looked at the Dark Knight, the man of whom stories had been told and retold. He was incredibly massive and fierce-looking, and the physician did not blame his wife for taking smaller, less-threatening lovers. Surely a man this size had a voracious, violent appetite.
Dooley was also very aware that the child that had killed Lady de Russe was not her husband’s. However, the woman had paid for her sins and there was naught her betrayed husband could do to her now.
“A rupture in her womb, I believe,” Dooley said evenly. “Your wife was pregnant, my lord, and sometimes when the child roots itself too high in the womb, it will rupture the organ and bring almost immediate death.”
Gaston was astonished but held his even expression. “She was pregnant?” he repeated slowly. “How far along was she?”
“Two, possibly three months,” the physician replied. He could see the shock in the knight’s eyes and suddenly had no desire to take the blame for the woman’s indiscretions. “My lord, she swore me to secrecy. I was ordered to keep my mouth shut, and I did.”
Gaston stared at the man a moment longer. “You are sure this is what killed her?”
The healer nodded. “As positive as I can be,” he replied. “I have seen mishaps such as this before, and bleeding to death is always inevitable. I tried to forewarn your wife when I realizedthis pregnancy was not normal, but she would not listen. When I indicated something was wrong, she ignored me.”
Gaston was stunned, angered, relieved. Yet he expected no less from Mari-Elle. True to the woman’s character, the sport that she had so loved eventually killed her and he was not sorry in the least. In fact he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. After 13 years of shame and humiliation, it was finally over.
Without a hind glance, he marched from the cell.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Trenton did nottake the passing of his mother very well. Even though she had been a less than desirable parent, she had been the only parent he had ever known and he felt the loss terribly. Gaston tried to comfort his son as best he could, but the boy seemed not to want him around, and that fact saddened him greatly.
Yet, he was not surprised. He was still a virtual stranger to his son and he knew Trenton felt very much alone. He tried to explain that his mother had died suddenly, of natural causes, but he could tell Trenton doubted his word. After everything that had happened between Mari-Elle and himself, he could understand the boy’s reluctance to believe that his father had not killed his mother.
As he stood facing his son, he realized he was greatly relieved to be able to tell the lad the truth that he had had nothing to do with the woman’s death. Even if he had, it would have been justified, but he was relieved all the same. An eight-year-old boy might not understand adult “justice”. Reluctantly, he did as was asked of him and left his son to grieve alone.
Remington slept until nearly noon the next day, running a moderate fever and then feeling lousy when she awoke. Her stomach hurt, her entire body ached, and Gaston sat with her while she twitched listlessly and snapped at Rastus when he changed her dressing.
Gaston relayed Mari-Elle’s death, watching her lovely face go even paler. She said nothing after his explanation, not a question nor a comment, and he could see that she was shocked. He wondered if it was because she doubted his story as to the circumstances regarding his wife’s death. She knew he was very capable of killing her himself and he thought he could read a new sort of fear in her eyes.
In truth, Remington did not know what to think. He had never lied to her before, but she thought the fact that Mari-Elle happened to bleed to death of a female ailment just when she happened to be locked in the vault very peculiar. She did not want to doubt his word, but the nagging suspicion remained.
She loved him so much that she believed him in spite of her reserve. She did not want to believe him capable of killing a woman, any woman. God only knew he had been nothing but tender and gentle with her.
The two of them went on to decide it would be best not to let Dane or Trenton know how she had received her wound, and Remington explained her condition to her son by saying she had accidentally fallen and hurt herself on the corner of an iron-and-glass table. If Dane did not believe her, he did not let on. There had been countless times where she had lied about a bruise or a scrape simply to spare him, and she wondered if he thought mayhap Gaston had injured her somehow. As much as he loved the Dark Knight, he was very used to male cruelty and somewhat took it in stride.
The afternoon progressed on, the heat and humidity of July miserable. It added tremendously to Remington’s discomfort,especially with the fever, and Gaston felt truly sorry for her. Even though she wriggled endlessly in her attempt to find the impossible cool and comfortable position, she never uttered a word of complaint.
Finally, he had had enough watching her roll about and sent Eudora for cool water and a sponge. He chased the old woman away on the pretense he was going to further clean her wound, when in fact, he was going to strip her down and bathe her all over. He wanted to, and she needed something to make her more comfortable.
She was lying on her back, propped up slightly on some pillows as he sat the basin of cool water down beside her. Pale and sweaty, she eyed him suspiciously.
“What are you going to do with that?” she demanded. He unlaced the front of her shift, but was thwarted from removing it completely because it only loosened to her abdomen. She frowned.
“Surely you cannot be thinking to…” she was cut off as he grabbed hold of the shift and tore it straight down the middle, opening it completely. She gasped with surprise and he grinned at her.
