“But theywillwork out,” she said confidently. “Yet…the one thing that concerns me is the fact that de Tormo said they were considering keeping me isolated for months. They will discover my condition before too long.”
“True enough. Mayhap that will only serve to hasten the proceedings.”
“But we shall be apart. What if we are still apart by the time your son is born?”
“I will not allow it. If I have to tear down all of England to find you, I will. I will be by your side when you bring my child into the world.”
“Erik,” she sighed.
“Or Adeliza.” He smiled for the first time. “It could very well be a girl.”
She looked up at him, running her hands over his face, memorizing it. “Will you be disappointed?”
“By God, Remi, of course not,” he exclaimed. “Male or female, it makes no difference to me. Only that if it is a girl, I will have to provide a sizable dowry and drain my coffers. Girls are expensive.”
“And boys are not?” she said with mild outrage. “Boys require swords and shields and war implements and….”
He kissed her firmly to shut her up. “It could be twins, you know. One of each.”
She rolled her eyes. “Say not so. I had a difficult enough time giving birth to one child, much less two.”
His smile vanished. “Dane was a difficult birth? How difficult?”
She could sense his fear; as if he needed something new added to his substantial problems. “I did not mean it like that. It was a normal birth, my love, but to every woman, birth is difficult. The only true problem was Guy, because afterward, he….”
“I know,” he said quickly; he did not want to hear the brutal details again. It made him sick. He stroked her cheek. “I have two sons, Remi. I would cherish a daughter. And I would take a third son.”
She smiled, warmed that he referred to Dane as his son. The horror of her impending departure shoved into the recesses of her mind, she hugged him fiercely. Were she to dwell on it any longer than a moment or two, her hysteria would overtake her and she did not want to burden him further.
“We had better return to Braidwood to secure some your belongings,” he said finally. “And I am sure Uncle Martin will want to bid you farewell. I’m told he has grown quite fond of you.”
She sat on the chair to pull on her hose and slippers, securing the silk garters as he watched. “I wonder what I should pack, considering I have no idea where they will be taking me.”
“Warm clothes, love,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on her a moment before retrieving his armor. Remington watched, impressed, as he donned all of it unaided and quite efficiently.
“Clothes that stretch,” she stood up, trying to keep the mood light. “You should have seen me when I was pregnant with Dane. I was as round as a pumpkin.” She put her arms out in front of her in a plump circle.
He smiled weakly, latching the top portion of his cuirass breastplate. “I look forward to it, madam.”
She tried to maintain her smile, but the tone of his voice set her heart to lurching. Her vow to remain brave was slipping rapidly, like water through her fingers. Her chest tightened painfully and she had to look away, else she knew the tears would start. We must comply with the church’s demands.
She pretended to look out the window, but her attention was turned to him as he secured the last of his armor. He concentrated on his task until, sans helm, he was in full protection. Only then did he face her, his eyes riveted to her elegant back.
“Let us depart,” he said, his voice husky. “We must return in time to sup with Henry and Elizabeth, and he eats precisely at eight o’clock.”
With a deep breath for strength, she turned abruptly and marched to the door. Gaston was close behind her, opening the door so that she might pass into the corridor.
Without another word, he took her tender hand into his massive glove and they proceeded to the courtyard of the Tower.
*
Uncle Martin wasnot pleased. In fact, he ranted and raged as Remington tried to pack, accusing Gaston of lacking backbone where the church was concerned. Remington did not say a word as Gaston’s uncle berated him in front of her, pretending to be interested in her task. But she wanted to slug Martin in the mouth.
Gaston remained cool. He eyed Remington from time to time, knowing how his uncle’s words must be upsetting her, but she had yet to give any sign that she was even paying attention to them. Even though he wanted to remain with her while she packed two large traveling bags, his more pressing concern was to remove his uncle from her earshot.
Pleading thirst, Gaston retreated to the solar downstairs with Martin in tow. The older man had yet to run out of fuel on the subject at hand, but Gaston had had enough.
“Cease,” he hissed, holding his hand up sharply. “I have heard enough of your prattle, Uncle. I must do as I must, and I apologize if it does not meet with your approval.”
