“Love!” Guy snapped, slapping his hand on the table. “Remington does not know the first thing about love! She is a naive, disobedient bitch and only I know how to deal with her.” He was suddenly around the table, grabbing hold of de Tormo’s robes. “I will not allow this, priest. I will never agree to an annulment, and I will write the goddamn pope if I have to, to keep my wife! She is mine and will remain so!”
De Tormo was shaken but he held his ground. “You do not even want her.”
“She’s mine,” Stoneley repeated, his voice hissing and his face twitching. “By the law of the land and the law of the church, she is my goddamn wife and I shall keep her until I die.”
De Tormo wrenched himself free of the grasp and stumbled from the chair, his eyes wide at the madman. “De Russe will have her no matter what you say. If you wish to preserve your life, then I advise you to agree to whatever he suggests.”
Stoneley was preparing to physically assault the priest again but halted himself unsteadily. Instead, his eyes took on a strange, nervous light, a look of madness that ran through de Tormo like an icy wind.
“I love my wife terribly, priest. Surely the church will not allow an annulment on that basis. Surely they will protect the sanctity of a marriage, which the usurper king threatens to destroy. Surely they will not allow the king to punish his prisoner in this manner, by taking away his own wife and giving him to another as the spoils of war.”
De Tormo did not realize he was quivering with emotion and fright. Stoneley was unbalanced, and incredibly clever. “I cannot say what the church will do, my lord. I merely came here today as a messenger, not a judge and jury.”
Stoneley’s sculpted body was glistening with sweat. He stood straight, a flash of sanity returning to his eyes. “I realize that. But I will need your help in this, de Tormo. I will need advice to….”
De Tormo shook his head, backing away to the door. “I cannot give it in good conscience. From what I have seen, Lady Remington would be much better off with de Russe. You, my lord, are a lunatic.”
Fortunately for de Tormo that he was near the door. Guy flew over the table with such speed and grace that the priest had no time to react at all before he was being slammed into the wall.
“I shall not let her go,” Guy seethed quietly. “She is my wife, and I shall not let her go.”
The door jerked open and there were suddenly soldiers pulling Guy off de Tormo. The priest scrambled through the door, watching Stoneley shirk his accosters.
He had to find Gaston.
*
De Tormo waspale by the time he reached Gaston’s rooms. Gaston was concerned.
“What happened?” he demanded.
De Tormo reached a shaky hand for the wine decanter. Gaston saw the man’s hands and poured the drink himself.
“He’s mad,” the priest finally said.
Gaston tried to remain calm. He folded his arms slowly and waited until de Tormo had imbibed several fortifying gulps. “That, priest, has already been established. I take it that he did not receive the news well.”
De Tormo snorted and sank into the nearest chair. “Hardly. He believes that Henry is behind this annulment, planning to reward you with Remington and Mt. Holyoak as the spoils of war. He cannot comprehend that love has anything to do with this.”
Gaston took a slow, deep breath, forming his thoughts. “’Tis probably what it seems to him.”
De Tormo looked at him pointedly. “He shall not cooperate with you in the least, Gaston. He does not want to let Remington go.”
Gaston knew that. Now that his suspicions were confirmed, he could better formulate a plan of action. “Then I will go and see him. Mayhap he will listen to… reason.”
The priest waved him away. “You’d better not. Knowing you, Stoneley will not live to see the sun set and you would be charged with his murder. The church would never grant you an annulment in that case.”
“I shall remain completely in control,” Gaston insisted, but even he did not believe it. To actually face the man who had caused Remington so much pain would drive him over the brink.
De Tormo shook his head again. “Do not see him alone. Take de Vere with you, if for no other reason, as a witness. Stoneley is clever enough that he would beat himself senseless after your visit and then say that you did it,” he lowered his gaze. “He…he unsettles me, Gaston. He is not only utterly evil; he is as smart as the devil, too. I received the impression that he would do anything in his power to keep this annulment from going through.”
Gaston’s gaze was hard. “’Twill not be enough. I will triumph in the end, no matter what he says or does.”
De Tormo stared at him a moment longer, the wine settling his nerves. “I concur with your requests that Remington stay away from him, although the point is mute now. He spoke of her most unfavorably and, coming to know the lady as I have, even I was offended,” he sat back in the chair, wearily. “If my meeting with him is any indication, then you must maintain iron control when you supervise his meeting with her. I have a feeling he will try and provoke you, anything to use against you.”
Gaston wasn’t looking at the priest. He seemed to be staring at the floor, his boots, his leather vest. He slowly fumbled withthe fold of his vest before removing a long, narrow dagger. It was a wicked looking thing. De Tormo watched with curiosity as he fingered it smoothly, all the while seeming to think on other things.
Suddenly, the dagger went sailing. In a fine, straight line as true as time, it landed with deadly accuracy into a large wall tapestry. De Tormo’s head snapped with surprise, overwhelmed with the speed and force in which the blade was tossed. It took him a moment to see that the dagger had pierced the figure of a man, pinning the tapestry to the wall.
