“Good health to you, my lady.”
She went over to him, her mouth open, inspected him. Then she looked at Dane. “You were correct, Dane. He is as large as I am, larger, in fact. Forgive me for doubting you.”
Dane grinned and Gaston put his hands on his hips. “By God, Dane, you have all of your teeth in. And look how fat you are. I must speak to de Vere; he is feeding you far too much. Both of you.”
Remington laughed at the expense of the boys. “It’s not just the food, but the exercise, too. We have been putting in hard hours on the training field since we are to be promoted to squires at the end of the summer,” Dane said proudly.
“So I am told. I am also told that Sir Steven de Norville has demanded you both squire for him,” Gaston said with approval. “A fine knight, indeed.”
“De Norville?” Remington recognized the name. “Did not he serve Courtenay?”
“He did until de Vere bought his services from the bishop,” Gaston replied, his gaze still warm on the boys. “The man is a splendid warrior and de Vere was willing to do anything to gain his loyalties. De Norville’s own squire is due to be knighted next month and he is in need of a new one. Two new ones.”
Remington smiled proudly. “How wonderful. Imagine that I have two sons who are squires.”
Trenton looked to his father, surprised that Remington called him “her” son and looking for a reaction. Gaston merely smiled faintly. “And they will be the finest, will they not? As befitting the sons of the Duke of Warminster.”
If there was ever any doubt that Remington and Gaston had not completely accepted the boys as their own, as if each respective boy was not loved any less because they were not of the same blood, those fears were dashed. Blood or not, Dane and Trenton were brothers.
After living for nearly a year with boys whose parents were glad to be rid of them, young men who were abused and cast aside and forgotten, Dane and Trenton knew how very lucky they were to be loved as much as they obviously were.
Dane thought the sun rose and set on Gaston. The man was his hero, his father, and his friend.
And Trenton loved Remington as if he had never had another mother.
No one got very much sleep that night. The four of them retreated to the chamber provided by Lady de Vere and spent most of the night talking. Both boys proudly showed off their blossoming muscles for their parents, Trenton’s being far larger, like his father’s, but Gaston praised both boys for their physical development. They spoke of their new sisters, their new cousins and life in general at Oxford.
No one brought up London, or the papal council, or the proceedings. It was as if it did not matter anymore; Gaston and Remington were married in their hearts and in their minds, even if the church did not recognize it. Nothing could change their love and devotion to one another.
Toward dawn, Remington fell asleep on the big bed even as Gaston and the boys continued to talk. Dane seemed to do most of the talking for Trenton, who would chime in every now and again in his already-deep voice. Gaston could see so much of himself in his son that it was frightening.
When dawn finally broke, Gaston knew the boys had assigned duties and reluctantly bid them a farewell. He promised that Remington would seek them out to say her own good-byes before they departed.
Just as he snuggled in beside her and closed his eyes, Remington woke and demanded to break her fast with her sons.
With a weary groan, Gaston rolled out of bed.
Jasmine and Antonius, Skye and Nicolas, Remington and Gaston, and the earl and his wife broke their fast in Lady Anne’s small solar. Dane and Trenton joined them a short while later, feeling peculiar sharing a meal with the earl when they should be serving him.
Father de Tormo did not show up for the meal and the earl sent a servant to fetch him. Not ten minutes later, the servant was back.
De Vere was conversing with Gaston when the manservant bent over and whispered in his ear. Shocked, the earl turned to Gaston.
“Gaston,” he said hesitantly. “I have just been told that your priest was found dead in his bed. Mayhap we should see for ourselves.”
Gaston bolted out of the chair, on the heels of the earl. Remington, ashen at the earl’s words, watched with horror as the men disappeared from the room. After several long, shocked moments, she turned wide-eyes to her sisters.
“My God,” she rasped. “What will we do now that he’s dead? He was our counsel, our chief witness, our….friend!”
Jasmine touched her arm. “All’s not lost, Remi. You still have us.”
Skye nodded eagerly. “We shall convince the papal council. Jasmine can cry and carry on a good act, and I shall….I shall faint for good measure.”
Remington was too shocked to respond to Skye’s attempt at humor and encouragement. De Tormo was dead. She remembered yesterday, how terrible he had looked, and she knew something had been wrong with the man. She had even told Gaston her fears. The priest simply had not looked well at all.
And de Tormo….he had not eaten well, and mostly slept the entire trip. He certainly wasn’t acting himself, and when he had given her the scroll….
The scroll.
