“Well,” he turned away from her and back to Gaston. “You look as if you are mobilizing, I am at your disposal.”
“We are preparing to leave for London,” Gaston detected the indifference to Remington, as well, and was puzzled. “I do not know how long we will be there, but I would welcome your support.”
“London?” Patrick’s eyebrows drew together. “What goes on there?”
Gaston raised his eyebrows in a helpless gesture. “What does not go on there? We are still in the midst of seeking an annulment for Remington and we are taking Jasmine and Skye with us for testimony.”
Patrick’s eyes drifted to her again. “I heard of the twins. I suppose I should congratulate you both.”
The tone was icy. Remington was shocked and she took a step back from him, lowering her gaze. Gaston stiffened.
“No need,” he said steadily. “You are tired, cousin. Retreat to the castle and I shall seek you later.”
Patrick removed a gauntlet. “I shall sleep in the knight’s quarters, Gaston. No need to house me in the castle.”
Gaston’s eyes narrowed at his cousin. This man in front of him was not the Patrick he knew. He went beyond the pleasantries, the overtures. “What’s the matter with you? Since when are you so distant and cold?”
Patrick fixed him in the eye. “I do not know what you mean. Surely this is what you expect of me, cousin. Seeing as I am onlyfit to train your men at Clearwell, and not reside in the duke’s residence.”
Gaston was surprised. “What in the hell are you talking about? You are training my men because you are the best man for the task, Patrick. How could you possibly think it was because I did not want you with me?”
Patrick refused to look at him, fussing with the other gauntlet. “I shall not delve into the subject with you here in the open. We shall discuss it later, if you like.”
“We shall discuss it now. Explain your words to me, Patrick. And explain your callous tone to Remington.”
“You mean your whore?” Patrick wasn’t fast enough to duck the blow that caught him in the jaw, a blow so hard that his helm was half-ripped from his head. He landed on the ground heavily, spitting out teeth and blood.
Nicolas and Antonius rushed forward, but not to stop Gaston. They were there to protect Remington.
Gaston loomed over his cousin, bending over the man as he struggled to push himself up. “You will apologize now or I will deal you a far more serious blow.”
Patrick sat up, his hand to his mouth. When he looked up, there were tears in his eyes and Gaston was torn between great remorse and his still-peaked anger. He knew they were not tears of pain. Puzzlement won out.
“Patrick?” he whispered questioningly, almost demandingly.
Patrick rubbed his jaw, wiping at the blood and saliva coursing over his chin. “I’m sorry….I did not mean it.” His voice was barely a whisper.
Gaston reached down and picked him up, putting his arm around his shoulders in an extremely rare gesture of affection. “Why, Patrick? What’s wrong with you?”
Patrick’s whole face was leaking some sort of fluid, tears, spittle, blood, and mucus. He wiped at everything. “Lost, I guess.Banished to Clearwell, I was feeling lost and rejected. I came here today because I did not want to stay there anymore and I was hoping you would allow me to remain with you,” he glanced over at Remington, seeing the tears in her eyes. “I am so sorry, Remi. I did not mean it. I have not seen you since Rory died and….I look into your eyes now and I see her. I was feeling the pain all over again and I guess I lashed out. Forgive me.”
She went to him and kissed his swollen jaw, blood and spit and all. Patrick let out a sob as she patted his cheek sweetly, hugging him. “Everyone has a lady but me. I am sorry, Remi. I…I have spent the better part of a year feeling sorry for myself and hating the world.”
He sounded like a little boy lost. Remington took firm hold of his arm and pulled him with her, into the castle.
Gaston accompanied them. Inside, he bellowed for hot water and linens and sent a servant scurrying for Rastus. As Gaston followed closely, Remington took Patrick into the small solar and set him down. She tried to remove his helm, but it was so badly bent from Gaston’s blow that Gaston had to literally tear it free from the breastplate.
A bearded, haggled Patrick faced them and they were shocked at his appearance. He had let his gorgeous curly black hair grow untamed, giving him a wild appearance. His face was black-bearded, unkempt. Remington slanted a concerned glance at Gaston as she ordered Patrick to open his mouth so she could see the extent of the damage.
Gaston watched his cousin respond painfully to Remington’s request, distressed to see his state. He had not seen Patrick in over six months and was shocked at the transformation.
He had sent Patrick to Clearwell to get away from the memories of Rory. He did not imagine that Patrick would sink further and further into despair, letting his mind run wild withcrazy thoughts. After nearly a year, Patrick was still grieving for the wild redhead that had made Nicolas’ life so miserable.
For the first time in his life, Gaston regretted a decision he had made. He should have not sent Patrick to be alone at Clearwell. Had he but known….
“You are missing two teeth,” Remington said, peering into Patrick’s mouth. “On the bottom. And I can see pieces of a third tooth still in the socket.”
She winced as he spit more blood on her clean floors, knowing from experience how much a blow to the face hurt. Patrick could barely move his jaw.
