“Why do you cry, angel? I did not mean to frighten you,” he said tenderly.
She batted her eyes, trying to chase away her tears. “It’s not that. It’s just…why does everything have to be so bloody complex? Why can’t everyone just leave us alone? I do not want to be involved in all of this intrigue and hatred; I do not want you to be involved in it.”
He kissed the top of her head. “This has been my whole life, angel. I am used to it.”
Her head came up, her eyes glittering like the rarest of jewels. She traced shaking fingers across his sensuous lips. “After we’re married… promise me we will remove ourselves from all of this. I want us to live peacefully, Gaston.”
“We will, love,” he kissed her fingers, wanting to reassure her. “Do not worry so.”
From down the hall they heard rapidly running footsteps. Small and quick, it could either be a child or a woman and theyboth turned as the footsteps came upon them. Dane suddenly appeared, his eyes wide and his face streaked with tears.
“Dane!” Remington knew she wasn’t supposed to speak with him, but she couldn’t help herself when she saw her son.
“You can’t fight!” Dane blurted to Gaston, all but ignoring his mother.
“What’s wrong, Dane?” Gaston was genuinely concerned. Dane’s eyes were wide with fright and his little face pale. “I… I had a dream. I saw armor, your armor, and I saw an arrow through your heart. You were dead. We buried you in your armor.”
Remington went to pieces. Her hands flew to her mouth and she moaned softly as Gaston got a grip on her. He never gave any stock in prophetic dreams, but he knew Remington did. She said that her son had predicted many things through his young dreams.
“’Twas only a dream, Dane,” he said evenly, feeling Remington shaking violently. “If a dream comes true, it is only coincidence. Mayhap dreams are the only things in life we can change; we can choose to believe them or we can choose not to.”
Dane wiped at his eyes, looking a bit embarrassed. “I fell asleep in the kitchen because I did not sleep very well last night. I dreamt you were killed. You can’t go.”
Gaston smiled and put his hand on the boy’s head. “Are you a gloom-and-doom prophet, lad? Did you actually see my face?”
“Nay, I did not see your face. But it was your armor, the armor you wear right now.” Dane insisted, glancing at his mother for the first time. “And I dreamed last night that my mother had a big stomach, like Aunt Jasmine did a couple of years ago. What does that mean?”
Remington’s eyes widened at her son a split second before she turned to Gaston, grabbing him by his armor. “You cannot go!”
She was verging on panic; he could see it in her eyes. He gathered her gently against him and waved Dane off. “I appreciate your concern, lad. I am sure you have assigned duties, do you not?”
Dane nodded weakly, not wanting to disobey his liege. He turned hesitantly, his steps down the hall much slower upon returning.
“Come on,” Gaston stood up with Remington in his arms, sweeping her up the stairs.
Eudora was finishing packing when Gaston brought her into the bedchamber, shaking and weeping. The old woman’s eyes widened.
“What’s happened to her?” she asked urgently.
Gaston lay her down on the bed. “She’s simply overwrought. Fetch her a wine brew, Eudora, to calm her nerves.”
The old woman fled as Remington struggled to a sitting position on the bed. Gaston removed his gauntlets and helm before sitting heavily on the mattress. Remington was still sobbing weakly and he took her hands between his own.
“Remi, get hold of yourself. You cannot put any stock in a young boy’s dreams.”
“But you heard him,” she insisted loudly. “He dreamt of our child, Gaston, and I have not told him anything. Something awful is going to happen to you.”
“Nonsense,” he shushed her gently. “The heat and your condition has you overwrought. Remi, hordes of England’s finest knights have been unable to kill me. What makes you think a minor skirmish will do me in?”
“Dane’s dreams do not lie.” Her crying had lessened, but she was shaking terribly.
As much as he wanted to stay and comfort her, he had a battle to fight. He couldn’t give in to her son’s telltale dreams,no matter if she believed them or not. There was always a logical explanation. Black and white. There was nothing unexplainable.
“I want you to rest until I return, angel,” he said softly. “I shan’t be long.”
He had said that before, when he left to assist Templehurst, and he had been true to his word. But Dane’s dream rang in Remington’s ears and she couldn’t shake the feeling.
“Promise me you shall take great care?” she whispered, knowing it futile to beg him to stay. “I will promise you that, madam,” he said, pulling his gauntlets back on. “I will take great, great care with myself so that I may return to the woman I love.”
