Gaston was not interested in the king’s attempt at humor. “And?”
Henry examined his jewel-encrusted chalice. His slight attempt to lighten the mood had failed and he was not particularly eager to continue the conversation without a company of men to protect him, but Gaston was waiting. And so was the lady.
Henry met Gaston’s eye. “Guy spent four hours in front of the council. Gaston, I have never in my life seen such a display of pitiful hysterics. He cried and moaned, relaying to the council that fact that he was a helpless victim in my greater scheme to control England. His keep, and his wife, were being used as a reward to my most powerful warrior. He claimed that he and Remington shared a great love for one another, and the only reason she had requested an annulment was because you had bewitched her weak mind.”
Gaston had suspected that Guy would come across as a casualty in Henry’s war and was not surprised. But he had a suspicion that Henry was not finished with his tale and he pulled Remington against him before replying. “And what happened?”
Henry looked to his cup again. “No annulment will be granted based on God’s law of the absolution of marriage. I was berated before the entire council for attempting to applymy law over God’s, for trying to dissolve a marriage for the purpose of bestowing a reward to my faithful. Furthermore, they are pressuring me to release Stoneley so he can return to Mt. Holyoak and live peaceably with his wife.”
Gaston’s jaw dropped. Next to him, Remington nearly collapsed with shock but he held her firm. He could feel he soft sobs beginning.
Henry could see the shock, the pain, and he was greatly remorseful that he had been unable to sway the council. Instead, he had taken a browbeating. “Gaston, I am sorry. I tried, I truly did.”
Gaston swallowed hard, trying to comfort Remington and striving to gain command of his reeling mind. After a moment of struggle, he turned to his king. “It’s not over, my lord. Not at all.”
“It is,” Henry said gently. “There is nothing more to….”
“Aye, there is,” Gaston said forcefully, speaking to Henry yet still clutching Remington to him. “Father de Tormo died yesterday, Henry. But before his death, he swore out a dying declaration that announces to the world that Guy Stoneley is a proven devil worshipper. Stoneley confessed these acts to the priest in a confession and de Tormo wrote them down. Additionally, Remington and her sisters are prepared to verify the confession with their own first-hand knowledge.”
Henry looked astonished. “Where is this parchment?”
“In the carriage,” Gaston replied, his throat tight with emotion. “I would deliver it to Bourchier personally. Now.”
“Absolutely. My God, Gaston, they will have no choice but to reopen the case and grant the annulment if de Tormo can prove Guy is Satan’s student.”
Gaston knew that. So did Remington. So what if it was a lie.
Anything for you.
*
Bourchier read themissive. John of Imola read the missive. The archbishop summoned John Morton, bishop of Ely, Robert Morton, bishop of Worcester, Christopher Urswick and Peter Courtenay. They all read it, pondered it, and discussed it. The discussion and arguments that ensued went on into the night.
Gaston, Henry and Uncle Jasper waited in the lavishly appointed visitor’s solar of Westminster. Gaston sat motionlessly, staring from the window at the three-quarter moon, listening to the nightbirds sing. He wondered how Remington was faring, having left her at the Tower in the care of his knights. He hoped she wasn’t too frantic.
De Tormo had told Remington to open the missive only in the case of a catastrophic emergency. Death was considered an emergency, Gaston reasoned, and it furthermore seemed to him that de Tormo knew how the delegation was going to rule. Was it possible that de Tormo killed himself in order to make his testimony absolutely irrefutable? Gaston knew it wasn’t possible, but he wondered just the same. There was nothing more potent that a dying declaration.
He had to shake his head at the haughty priest he was so intent on hating when they first met. It still amazed him that the man had turned out to be his mightiest weapon in the fight for Remington.
“Are you worried?” Henry asked him quietly, sitting a few feet away.
Gaston turned from the window. “Worried? No. I think concerned is a more apt term, my lord.”
“Concerned nothing,” Jasper snorted, scratching at his scalp. “Once they read what a decrepit bastard Stoneley is, there should be no doubt. They will not allow Remington to remain in such a marriage, for the sake of her soul.”
Henry raised a weary eyebrow. “My God, I hope not. I would like to be over with this, Gaston. I have aged unnaturally since the day you informed me of your love for this woman.”
Gaston half-grinned. “I have, too.”
The meeting lasted into the night. Rapidly approaching midnight, Gaston and his two companions were startled when the chamber door opened with a groan and Courtenay came forth, bearing a tallow candle. Gaston was on his feet.
“They want to speak with Stoneley, Gaston,” Peter said quietly. “I have sent my personal guard to escort him here for more interrogation.”
Gaston did not realize he was shaking with anticipation, emotion, every possible feeling he could experience. “How goes the opinion, Peter?”
Much to his shock, the bishop actually gave him a small smile. “Well for you. The need to speak with Stoneley is merely a formality.”
Gaston could hardly grasp what he was hearing. After so much disappointment and anguish, he almost did not understand what he was being told. “Then….Remington does not need to testify? Or her sisters?”
