Remington glanced at Gaston, who shrugged with a smile. The woman with the duck bade Remington to extend her hand, which she did, and the duck nibbled on the soft flesh of her hand. Remington giggled at the tickling until the woman commanded the duck to stop, and it did. Rubbing her coarse hand over the nipped flesh a couple of times and mumbling some sort of prayer, she peered closely at the skin.
It took a moment for her to speak. “I see a great many things, milady. Ye have left children that are dear to ye, have ye not?” when Remington nodded, the woman dipped her head again.
“I see… girls. Beautiful girls that look like their father. And I see another son in the not-too-distant future.”
Remington glanced at Gaston, who did not look entirely amused by the prediction. She grinned at him, anyway, as the woman continued. “I see a great deal of happiness, but not after…” she rubbed at Remington’s hand again and again, as one would rub at fogged glass. Remington watched the woman closely as her eyes widened and she dropped Remington’s hand to the table. “That’s all, milady. I see naught else.”
She turned away rapidly and Remington was confused. “Wait.” she called after the woman. “Wait a moment.”
The woman did halt, but reluctantly. Slowly, she turned to face her again. “Milady?”
Remington could see something in the woman’s eyes, a flicker of fear. Deeply curious, she rose from her seat and extended her hand again. “You saw more. What did you see?”
“Nothing, milady,” the woman insisted, her eyes lowered to the duck.
“She asked you what else you saw,” Gaston’s voice was as low as thunder. “You will do her the courtesy of answering.”
The woman looked at Gaston as if God himself had just spoken to her. Hesitantly, she went back to the table but refused to meet Remington’s eyes. Again, she rubbed her skin and looked hard at the tiny red welts. Remington observed the woman intently as she struggled with her prediction.
“I see….a great deal of pain,” she whispered quickly. “I see a goodly amount of anguish. Possibly even death.”
Remington tried not to react to the prophecy but she couldn’t help herself from pressing. “For me? Or for my family?”
The woman nervously glanced at Gaston, whose expression was neutral. “Yer family, I suppose.”
Remington swallowed and took her hand away. After a moment, she forced herself to smile as she took her seat. “What would a prediction be without death and destruction? If you told me my life would be perfect, I’d think you to be a liar.”
The woman gazed back at her with uncertainly. With a quick curtsy, she fled the table. Gaston leaned close to Remington.
“Do not tell me you believe that blather,” he said softly.
She maintained her flippant attitude. “Of course not. But it is fun to hear. Especially when she tells me there is another son in my future.”
He snorted into his cup, refusing to respond. Her smile turned genuine at his reluctance and she leaned against hisarm. “No son? Are you truly that dead-set against any more children?”
He eyed her. “We have been through this. I do not wish to discuss it now.”
She laughed softly and stroked his stubbled cheek as the minstrels began to play a lively tune. “You are a terrible coward, Gaston.”
“Why is that?” he drank from his chalice.
“You are afraid of your children,” she said simply. “You have already told me that you are afraid you will not be able to handle Dane and Trenton when they grow older, and I know for a fact that Adeliza and Arica scare you to death because they’ll grow into young women with minds of their own, and they’ve already got you whipped into submission.”
“Whipped into submission?” he looked at her. “I beg to differ, madam. I am their father, not their servant.”
Her eyes were smoky as she gazed back at his incredible face. “They could ask you for the world and you would not deny them, and that scares you. You are a weak-willed soul when it comes to your children because you love them so. Isn’t that right?”
He gazed back into her eyes, his limbs filled with the liquid warmth of his feelings for her. “Astute, my lady. As always.”
She kissed him gently, feeling the heat of the contact bolt through her body. “More children, Gaston, a whole castle-full. The Dark Duke must have a great legacy.”
He shook his head slowly; she was intent on disobeying his wishes in the matter. She started to laugh at him again when Hubert appeared on her other side.
“A dance, my lady?” he asked, entirely aware of Gaston’s intense gaze on him.
Remington did not even ask Gaston’s permission. She was up and on the floor with Hubert, and he swung her into the downbeat of the tune with great flourish. Gaston watched her,laughing and giddy, as the knight twirled her about the floor. He could have easily been jealous, but he wasn’t thinking along those lines; he was simply thankful to see her enjoying herself. This woman who cringed with terror the first time he tried to dance with her.
But the woman dancing before him was not the same woman. She was confident, delightfully charming and poised. And the fact that she was the most beautiful woman in the room had all eyes upon her. Gaston sat back in his chair, his face creased with satisfaction.
