She smiled sadly, latching onto his arm. Every time she thought on their separation, tears stung her eyes. Fighting them back, she turned her attention to another interesting sight when a voice shouted out at Gaston.
They both turned to see a man crossing the bailey toward them. Average of height, but well-built in spite of the armor that covered him, the helmetless man was smiling broadly at Gaston. When Remington turned questioningly to Gaston, she was surprised to see he was smiling, too.
“You bastard,” the man shouted. “I had no idea you were coming. Have you just arrived?”
“Greetings, John,” Gaston put out his hand and the man shook it warmly.
Remington was astonished; she had never seen Gaston shake hands with any man, and his manner was nothing short of friendly. Obviously, this man was well respected by Gaston.
The man was older, with streaks of gray woven into his well-kept brown hair. His face had been extremely handsome once, but was now lined with age and scars. In spite of that, Remington still thought he was very handsome.
“It has been too long, Gaston,” the man chided gently. “I did not even see you before Henry sent you north. So how is Yorkshire? Controlled like the dogs they are?”
Gaston snorted, smiling. “Quite cooperative for the most part, actually,” he was acutely aware of Remington clutching his arm. “John, this is Lady Remington. Remi, this is John de Vere, Earl of Oxford. He is Henry’s premier military general and advisor.”
Lord John’s brown eyes studied her intently. “My lady, ’tis a pleasure.”
Gaston could see that John had no idea how to react to Remington. He and the earl went back for years and knew each other very well. John knew of Mari-Elle, of Gaston’s troubles,and was frankly puzzled to see the Dark One in the company of a beautiful young woman. Gaston was not the type. And, because he and John were well known to one another, Gaston knew he could take the man in to confidence.
“Lady Remington is my future wife, John,” he said quietly. “Mari-Elle passed away a short time ago.”
The earl’s eyes widened a brief second before taking another glance at Remington. Knowing how Gaston felt about Mari-Elle, he did not even express his condolences. “God’s Blood, Gaston, she’s too beautiful for you! How much are you paying her to marry you?”
Remington blushed prettily. “’Tis I who am paying him, my lord. There was no other way he would consent.”
The earl laughed. “Surely, my lady, I can talk you out of this.”
Remington leaned into Gaston affectionately. “I am afraid not, my lord.”
De Vere shook his head with pleasurable disbelief. “You did well for yourself, Gaston. Mayhap now you can produce some worthy heirs for your heritage.”
Gaston caressed her hand, his mood sobering. John was one of the men he wished to have sign his petition for the church, a man of supreme standing with the king and country. “But not before we annul two marriages, John. I neglected to tell you that Lady Remington is Sir Guy Stoneley’s wife.”
The earl lost his smile. “Stoneley? The bastard that surrendered at Stoke?”
“The same. Henry sent me north to Stoneley’s seat, Mt. Holyoak, whereupon I met Lady Stoneley,” he glanced at Remington. “Without going into any unnecessary details, Lady Stoneley and I plan to annul both of our marriages to wed. But I will need your help, John.”
“My help? What can I do?”
“I need eight testimonies from important, honorable men in order to obtain my annulment from Mari-Elle. Will you do me the honor of testifying before the papal counsel on my behalf?”
“I shall be the first,” John replied without hesitation. “Tell me when and where, and I shall be there.”
Remington almost sighed with relief, somehow afraid that the man would refuse Gaston. But she could see that the earl would do anything for the Dark One.
Gaston smiled gratefully. “I shall, my lord. And I will be forever indebted to you.”
The earl waved him off. “God’s blood, Gaston. With everything you have done for me? Your declaration is ludicrous. If anyone is indebted, ’tis I, and I consider it a privilege to help you and Lady Remington any way I can.”
“Truly, thank you, my lord,” Remington said sincerely. “’Twill not be easy to do what we must, and I thank you for easing us one less worry.”
“Who will be testifying for you, my lady?” de Vere asked.
Her lips twitched with a smile. “A good many Yorkists, my lord.”
De Vere laughed. “A good many people who hate me and your…Gaston,” he sobered, waving his hand in the direction of the castle. “Would you take the nooning meal with me?”
Gaston shook his head. “I cannot, although I would love to. Henry is expecting me in London.”
