Remington was shocked and upset. She did not want to be kept from Gaston. Her head lowered and she bit her lip, trying hard not to weep.
“As lord of Mt. Holyoak, I am sworn to protect the lady,” Gaston said, although he knew his claim was weak. He never suspected that de Tormo would immerse himself in their plans. Eventually, he knew that he would have to obey whatever the church dictated until the annulment was complete, but he hadhoped that their journey to London would afford them their last bit of privacy together.
“And you shall,” de Tormo responded. “But I am her guardian and anything that concerns her welfare and protection must be cleared with me. You understand this, do you not?”
Gaston could see that the priest was not trying to be cruel, merely proper. His manner was calm but firm. Gaston glanced at Remington’s head and saw that her lashes were spiky with tears and he felt his composure slipping. “De Tormo, might I have a private word with you?”
The priest agreed and Gaston pulled him to the edge of the road, away from Remington and open ears. “I will come to the point, de Tormo. I will not leave the lady alone, ward of the church or not. You cannot mean to separate us.”
“I must, de Russe. You know that,” the priest held his ground. “Surely I cannot allow…whatever it was that was going on at Mt. Holyoak to continue in my presence. I would be allowing a sin.”
Gaston let out a sharp sigh, grinding his jaw. “She carries my child, priest. You cannot and will not separate us, and if you tell anyone of our secret, I shall slit your throat from your chin to your belly. We….we are in love. That is why I intend to marry the woman. Because I love her.”
De Tormo blinked, looking uncertain for the first time. He wasn’t intimidated by the threat, but he was impacted by the words of the greatest knight since Galahad. De Russe’s reputation was beyond legendary; it was mythical. But the man before him was laying himself wide open, as vulnerable as any mortal man.
He sighed heavily, his determination faltering. “Good Lord, de Russe. You are not going to make this easy, are you?” He paused long enough to scratch his fat chin thoughtfully. “ThenI will allow you time together, within reason. But you shall be escorted. By me.”
Gaston scowled. “By God’s Bloody Rood. You intend to babysit us?”
“Not you;her,” the priest corrected. “She is my ward and I must.”
Gaston looked long and hard at him for a moment. Then, he rolled his eyes and hissed,“God!”
There was nothing more either of them could say. De Tormo glanced over at Remington, who now stood composed and waiting. He felt his firm stance slipping.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered. “Take her and feed her. But warn her of her future so she is not surprised.”
Gaston almost thanked the priest but refrained. He went to Remington and took her gently by the arm.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To eat,” he replied, catching a bag of food his squire tossed to him.
“What about Nicolas? Won’t he eat with us?” She turned to look for the knight. “And what of the priest? Where is he going?”
“Quit prattling, Remi,” he admonished softly.
He took her into a bank of trees, sheltering her from the sun. She made herself comfortable on a stump and he took a moment to admire her as he drew forth the provisions. She was dressed in a silk surcoat the color of her eyes. The bodice was snug, lacing between her breasts and revealing a white blouse that peeked out beyond the neckline and extended slightly beyond the short sleeves. The neckline, however, was revealing enough and his mouth fairly watered at the white skin exposed.
He handed her a wedge of cheese. “How are you enjoying the ride?”
She took a healthy bite. “I would like it more if I could ride with you. May I?”
He cleared his throat as he rummaged through the bag. “Nay, angel, I prefer you to remain where you are.”
She pouted. “You do not want to ride with me.”
He looked at her. “’Tis not that. It’s just….”
“It’s the priest,” she accused loudly. “He wants to keep us apart, does not he?”
He shook his head firmly. “Calm down, Remi. He shall not keep us apart. In fact, he promised to be quite lenient. Do not fault de Tormo for what he must do.”
Her eyebrows went up in outrage. “What he mustdo? Gaston, I do not want to spend months in a convent, away from you and the rest of the world.”
“Would you rather spend it with Guy?” he shot back softly, instantly sorry he had snapped at her. “Remi, if we want the church’s cooperation in this annulment, then we must do as they say. Please, love; it won’t be for long. You must be brave.”
She plopped back down on the stump, her pretty face molded in a pout. She tore into the cheese angrily, eating with fury. He ate his own cheese and bread, fighting off a smile at her frown.
