He hadknownsomething; mayhap he’d had a premonition of his own death, for he told her the scroll was to be opened only in case of a dire emergency.
His death was a dire emergency.
Remington bolted from the room, her sisters and brother’s-in-law in heated pursuit. They followed her up the narrow staircase and down the dimly lit corridor until, one by one, they disappeared into the bower.
Remington dove into the wardrobe and tore out her traveling satchel. With shaking hands, she tossed it on the bed and dug into it. Triumphantly, she jerked forth the vellum.
“Here!” she gasped.
Nicolas and Antonius looked at her as if she had gone insane, but Jasmine and Skye were as eager as she was.
“Open it!” Jasmine demanded.
Remington did not hesitate; she broke the seal and rolled open the parchment.
She read the contents carefully, the color draining from her face. Her wide eyes opened wider and she re-read the message.
The group in the room waited with anticipation, waiting with increasing impatience for her to announce her finding. Finally, Skye could wait no longer.
“Remi?” she encouraged her sister to tell all.
Remington tore her eyes away from the vellum; focusing astonished eyes on her loved ones.
“He knew,” she breathed. “He knew he was going to die and he…. my God, I have got to find Gaston.”
She wandered past them, the parchment clasped tightly in her hands. As she made her way down the hall towardde Tormo’s room in the southern wing, her little entourage followed.
“She’s mad,” Antonius muttered.
Jasmine shushed him loudly. “She’s not. De Tormo must have left her a most powerful message.”
Nicolas left his wife to walk beside Remington, glancing at her with concern. She was preoccupied and dazed. When they reached the priests room, he helped her through the door by shoving several servants out of the way.
Gaston and de Vere were huddled by the window, a serious conversation between them. One look at Gaston’s face and Remington could see that he was having the exact same concerns she had been having not ten minutes earlier. She forgot about protocol, knowing she shouldn’t be calling to him across a room full of people, but not caring at the moment. He had to know.
“Gaston!”
His head snapped to her, his eyes full of concern. Before he could break from de Vere, she was rushing to him, the vellum held in an outstretched hand.
“The parchment de Tormo gave me yesterday,” she stammered, unsure as to where to begin. “You must….for God’s sake, read it.”
Puzzled, he took the missive from her and read the contents. His reading slowed as he reached the bottom and he, too, turned amazed eyes to her.
“By God,” he breathed.
She nodded shakily. “He knew he was going to die. Gaston, if we present this to the council, they’ll surely grant the annulment.”
Gaston glanced at the missive again and John interrupted. “What is it?”
Gaston cleared his throat, roving over the message again as if he were still trying to convince himself they were real. He held out his arm to Remington, and she pressed herself against him.
“It says…,” he glanced up, eyeing the servants and various employees of the earl. De Vere, sensing his hesitation, ordered the room cleared.
Not a minute later, the room was devoid of the household staff. Jasmine and Skye crowded closer to hear Gaston.
“It says that de Tormo heard Guy’s confession, in which he admitted his servitude of Satan. De Tormo states that Guy confessed to killing infants and drinking their blood, transforming into an incubus during the full of the moon and seducing virgins, only to return to eat the offspring their union produced, and furthermore trying to prepare his wife to be a receptacle to house a demon soul,” his eyes moved from the missive to Remington. “He also confessed to be the concubine of Hecate.”
“Who is that?” Nicolas demanded, horrified by what he was hearing.
