He opened the door, fighting off a grin. “Remi, Dane can outrun a horse and Trenton is bigger than you are. Now, do you truly think they’ll not protest whilst you take a switch to them?”
“Of course they will,” she insisted. “They’d not dare run from me.”
He laughed low in his throat as she kicked off her slippers, laughing again when he thought of Remington chasing the boys up and down the corridors of Mt. Holyoak with a willow branch in her hand. “On behalf of the offenders, my lady, I beg you to reconsider. ’Tis only their first offense, after all, and they were only thinking of you.”
“And it will be their last offense if they remember the sting of the switch.”
He shook his head, still chuckling. “Pray show mercy, madam. I believe I can vouch that the punishment de Vere plans for them will be quite sufficient to deter any future infractions. They are, after all, his pledges and we must leave the discipline to the earl.”
She looked at him, uncertainly, and released the last few stays of her surcoat. The scarlet silk coursed to the floor and she threw the garment on a chair. Clad in the corset and shift, she shrugged. “If you say so.”
“I do,” he wanted to help her undress but he knew he would never make it downstairs if he were to lay the slightest hand on her. It was going to be hard enough to kiss her good-bye. “Now undo that torturous contraption you wear and get into bed. It has been a particularly fatiguing day.”
She agreed silently, unfastening the corset that Anne had loaned her. It was the only way she could fit into the borrowed dress for Anne was considerably thinner and less busty. The corset minimized her magnificent assets just enough to make the dress fit. The corset landed next to the scarlet dress and Remington climbed into the feathered bed as Gaston pulled up the coverlets.
“Lay down, angel,” he tucked the covers in about her as she sank into the bed and sighed with contentment. “That’s a good girl. Now dream sweetly, love. I shall return as soon as I can.”
Her eyelids were already heavy as she gazed up at him. “A pity you cannot join me.” He gave her a half-smile. “Pity indeed.” When he leaned over to kiss her, she brought her arms up and wrapped them around his neck. Losing his balance, he tumbled onto the bed and ended up in a most provocative position, his massive body completely covering her. Remington giggled, holding him tightly and suckling his lips as he tried to protest.But in a split second, he gave up the fight and fully delved into her delicious mouth. Moments later, he regretted his lack of control for he was dangerously close to bedding her again.
“Nay, angel, let go of me,” he whispered against her chin. “I must go.”
“I shall let you go after you have comforted me,” she hissed back seductively.
He had to be firm or he was lost. Deliberately, he pulled away from her and vaulted off the bed as if she terrified him. They grinned at each other a moment and he adjusted his tunic where his arousal strained against the material.
“Go then, my love,” she whispered, snuggling against the pillow. “I may be your wife soon, but I suspect war will always be your mistress.”
His smile faded. “War is my vocation, my constant companion, but never my mistress,” he moved for the door, drinking in her face one last time. “When I return, you shall be a widow. I swear it on my oath as a knight.”
Her smile faded, too. “I know. In my wildest dreams I never dared to hope, Gaston.”
His face was cold, unreadable, as indicative of the Dark One. The warm expression from not a moment before was vanished. “This is vengeance, Remi. Guy will pay for everything he’s ever done to you and to your sisters and I promise you it will be excruciating. He shall suffer as you have, as you all have. This I do for you, love.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “I know.”
He saw the tears and felt her years of pain coming to a conclusion. The thickness of the emotions was palpable, tearing at his heart, and he felt the familiar rage building once again.
“Anything for you,” he whispered, and shut the door.
Remington lay awake for a long, long time.
*
Three hours beforedawn, Alex and Gaston left Ripley at the head of a column of three hundred men. Alex’s eight knights rode behind their liege and the duke, and Alex actually rode beside Gaston. Gaston allowed this because of his obvious debt to the man, even though he was decidedly uncomfortable not riding alone as usual. Alex, thankfully, kept his mouth shut and they rode in silence.
It was strange for Gaston not riding with his own men. He almost felt like an outsider, although Alex had readily placed him in charge of the men. Still, it was strange not seeing familiar faces, being able to anticipate these soldiers like he could read his own. But he was extremely grateful for the support and made note to tell Henry of Alex’s unselfish assistance. There could quite possibly be an earldom in it for Ingilsby, incorporating even more lands into his baronetcy. With Botmore’s defeat imminent, Alex could rule the surrounding towns of Knaresborough, Harrogate and Ripon. It would be a most impressive earldom, in Gaston’s opinion, and he fully intended to press Henry.
The night was bright under the half-moon as the army made its way to Mt. Holyoak. Spies had been sent out an hour back and Gaston eagerly await their report, although he suspected Mt. Holyoak was holding quite nicely against Botmore and Stoneley. Truthfully, he wasn’t worried; Mt. Holyoak was so well designed that he doubted God himself could lay a successful siege. Gaston was an expert on siege patterns and knew that even for him, a struggle to breach the fortress would be frustrating.
He wasn’t worried about the approaching battle. In fact, he looked forward to it. Once and for all, he would destroy Guy and crush Botmore and Yorkshire would return to a peaceful shire. He might even consider residing in Mt. Holyoak again,considering how much he and Remington loved the place. Deverill, as the seat of his dukedom, was still not home to him. And neither was Clearwell. Only at Mt. Holyoak did he truly feel he belonged.
They were an hour away from Mt. Holyoak and the sun was beginning to rise. Gaston caught sight of the spies cresting the road in the distance, confident in their report that Mt. Holyoak was still as solid as the gates of heaven. Which was why he was shocked to the core to hear a very different tale.
Mt. Holyoak was breached and her bridge was down. Systematic execution of Gaston’s elite guard had taken place and headless bodies littered the grounds.
Mt. Holyoak, Dane and Trenton, were in the hands of a madman.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
