Gaston glanced at the two young men. “And so you have. More glory tales?”
“Solomon and Sheba,” Trenton told him.
“Pushy wench,” Dane muttered and his mother pinched him, much to Trenton’s amusement. “Ow!”
Gaston laughed softly at Dane’s discomfort. “Enough abuse, Remi. We must be on our way.”
The boys stood up and kissed her dutifully, telling their father a warm good-bye. When they vacated the chapel througha small side door, Gaston pulled Remington to her feet and assisted her from the pew.
“What were you doing in here, anyway?” he asked softly, curling her hand into the crook of his elbow.
She watched the ground as they walked down the center aisle. “Praying. Dane and Trenton found me.”
“Praying?” he looked at her curiously. “You do not believe in God, Remi. Just whom were you praying to?”
“God,” she insisted. “I thought… mayhap he would listen to me and forgive de Tormo for his lies on our behalf. I had to try, Gaston.”
He patted her hand and she stopped at the wide oaken doors that led into the chapel, her gaze raking over the still hall. The polished oak altar thirty feet away caught her attention, as did the polished pewter candle banks. A huge ivory cross hung on the wall overlooking the altar, and lavish silk curtains graced the walls.
“I would be married in a church, Gaston,” she whispered, turning her gaze to him. “Guy and I were married in the dining hall of Mt. Holyoak. When you and I are married, I want it to be in a church.”
He kissed her hand. “Westminster. I promise.”
She smiled shyly, allowing him to lead her out into the bright sunlight.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Gaston and Remingtonhung back with the troops while Nicolas and Patrick greeted their father. Martin hugged Jasmine happily, and refused to let go of Skye. While Patrick talked, Nicolas pried his wife away and whisked her and her sister into the manse.
As Gaston had said, Martin ignored him completely. He did not even come out to the carriage to greet Remington, and she was saddened, but there were more important matters weighing on her mind.
Nicolas, Antonius and Patrick rejoined the caravan, leaving Jasmine and Skye in Uncle Martin’s care until they were so required by the papal council. Patrick wanted to know why his father was so upset with Gaston, but his cousin waved him off and ordered the troops to straighten ranks and prepare for the move-out.
De Tormo’s body was sent ahead to Westminster as Gaston’s column set forward once again, en route to the Tower. Henry was there, awaiting Gaston’s arrival, and Gaston was extremely eager to show the king de Tormo’s missive.
Remington felt the familiar pangs of fear as they crossed the Thames and the Tower drew close. Guy was there, looking down at her, she justknewit. He could sense her, as she could sense his evil. When the party passed down the narrow entryway and into the courtyard, she shivered involuntarily. He washere.
Henry met them in the courtyard. He greeted Gaston pleasantly, turning his attention to Remington as Nicolas helped her from the carriage. Dressed in ecru-colored satin with gold embroider, she looked radiant.
“My lady, what a pleasure it is to see you again,” Henry received her.
Remington curtsied low. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
The king’s gaze lingered on her a brief moment longer before turning to Gaston. One look into Henry’s brown eyes and Gaston could see that something was terribly wrong. He wished Remington wasn’t with him; if the news was bad, he wanted to hear it alone. Only after he’d had time to calm himself would he deliver the information to Remington.
“There are refreshments in my solar,” Henry said, walking toward the Queen’s House.
Gaston took Remington’s arm, instructing Nicolas and Patrick to settle the men and take station in the knights’ quarters until he sent for them.
The solar was cool and smelled of fresh rushes. Remington accepted a cup of wine from a servant and stood stiffly beside Gaston, nervous in the king’s presence. After what happened the last time she saw him, she was uncomfortable.
Henry sat heavily, stretching his long legs. Gaston stood like stone, waiting expectantly for the revelation to spill forth from the monarch’s lips. The two men looked at each other, silent words filling the speechless void until Henry finally spoke.
“Guy spoke to the papal council while you were gone, Gaston,” he said quietly. There was no need for formalities, orempty conversations leading into the real reason for Gaston’s visit. They were long since past any overtures.
Gaston’s face slackened in shock. “But I thought they were going to wait until the rest of Lady Remington’s testimony was heard.”
Henry put up a silencing hand. “They were indeed, but Guy begged and pleaded until he obtained permission to speak. In fact, he wanted to speak without you present because he claims you intimidate him,” the king snorted ironically. “I cannot imagine why.”
