The king scratched at his scalp a moment. “Be off, then. Send de Tormo to me.”
Gaston bowed and turned on his heel swiftly, marching for the door. Only when he entered the dark, cool corridor did he mutter a sharp curse.
*
De Tormo rememberedwell his meeting with Guy Stoneley before he went to Mt. Holyoak. The man had made him incredibly uncomfortable, but it was nothing he could explain in words. It was merely a feeling. When the Tower guard opened the heavy oaken door and de Tormo’s gaze fell on the sight of Guy Stoneley again, he suddenly knew why the man made him uncomfortable.
The man was pure evil.
Sir Guy Stoneley was standing at the opposite side of the small chamber, clad in leather trousers and boots. Naked from the waist up, he was an exquisite example of a well-formed man. He was average in size, in his mid-thirties, and he took great pride in keeping himself in top physical form, even in prison.
De Tormo watched the muscles on his back flex as he moved in the faint sunlight; he swore he could see every muscle in the man’s back. Not large or bulky, but merely defined.
As he approached, he found himself watching the man’s back so that when Guy finally turned around, the priest was almost startled. Those eyes stared back at him again, and de Tormo felt the evil like a tangible wave.
Positive all of those stories he had heard about the man had affected his judgment, de Tormo chased away the disturbing thoughts and inclined his head as a greeting.
“Father,” Guy greeted, turning to face him fully. “How good to see you again. Do you bring my wife?”
De Tormo studied the face; chiseled to a fault, sharp of angle, considerably handsome. Blond hair that was perfectly groomed and the eyes; like blue ice. They were of such a pale blue that they were almost white.
“I see that you are well, my lord,” de Tormo answered steadily. “How have they been treating you?”
Guy shrugged, pacing toward de Tormo as if he were stalking prey. “As well as can be expected. Where is my wife?”
De Tormo felt himself falter just a bit; why did this man intimidate him so? De Russe did not intimidate him as badly as this man did, and Stoneley wasn’t near Gaston’s size nor strength.
He made up his mind in that brief second that he must come to the point of this visit; the more stalling employed, the harder it would be to deliver the message. Clearing his throat, he indicated the table.
“May we sit, my lord? There is a great deal to discuss.”
Guy hesitated a brief second before complying. His slim, developed body seated itself comfortably across the small oak table from the priest, the piercing eyes intent. “Remington did not come, did she?”
“She is in London,” de Tormo’s palms began to sweat. He attributed it to the heat. “But there have been certain developments that we must discuss, my lord, before you are permitted to see her.”
“What developments?”
Dear God, where to begin? The speech he had rehearsed on his way to the cell was suddenly forgotten and he struggled to form words at first. “Your wife will be brought to you later this afternoon, but you must be made aware of the circumstances. Firstly, she will not be joining you in captivity. She does not want to.”
A muscle twitched on Guy’s face. “I see. I was led to believe that she would not be given any choice in the matter.”
“Normally, no, but these circumstances are abnormal to say the least. She will be visiting you briefly, and then placed in the wardship of the church,” de Tormo made sure he met the ice-blue eyes. “It would seem, my lord, that Lady Remington will be seeking an annulment to your marriage. She cites severalreasons, among them being cruelty. She is seeking an end to your marriage and she has the support of the crown.”
Stoneley kept his cool. The only outward sign of his internal explosion was a faintly ticking cheek, but it was several moments before he could speak. “Henry is supporting her? How chivalrous. But the church will not allow an annulment, will they, de Tormo?”
The priest felt a chill skate down his spine at the tone. It was deadly, more a statement than a question. “It is possible. My lord, your wife wants an annulment so that she may marry another man.”
Guy shot out of his chair and spun away from the priest, trying to control himself before he tore the priest’s arms from their sockets. He began to shake, his mind working wildly. Remington wanted an annulment… she had crown support…she wanted to marry someone else. “Who is it that she would marry?”
De Tormo swallowed hard, his voice suddenly leaving him. “Gaston de Russe.”
Guy froze. Then, slowly, he turned to face the priest. “The Dark Knight? The man who betrayed our king, who overtook my keep?” he took a disbelieving step toward de Tormo, his face glazed with astonishment. “She would marry the Dark One?”
De Tormo could only nod. Guy’s eyes were burning holes into him and he was more uncomfortable than ever. He kept waiting for a fist to catch him in the jaw.
“A reward,” Stoneley hissed. “A reward for his services. My keep, my wife. Henry would lock me up and throw away the key while de Russe takes over my life.”
“Nay, my lord, ’tis not like that,” de Tormo said quickly. “Lady Remington and Sir Gaston have fallen in love with one another and they wish to be married.”
