“Aye,” Gaston said softly. “And do you know what our king said to me when I confronted him?”
Matthew could only shake his head and Gaston continued. “He told me that it was none of my concern. He further toldme that if I should choose to protest the affair, he could not guarantee the safety of my son and would see to it that The White Lord took care of the boy. You see, he is convinced that your loyalty to him supersedes our friendship and the bounds of common decency. He is convinced that you would harm my son to punish me if he gave the order. To spare you that horrible choice, I have ended my fealty to Richard, sent my wife and son to my holdings in France, and sworn my oath to Henry Tudor.”
Matthew’s mouth was a tight line of astonishment and outrage. He had known Gaston for twenty years; the man had never lied to him, not once. Word from Gaston was as good as word from God. He must have stopped breathing because when he finally drew in a breath, it was loud and ragged. His chest hurt.
“I have never heard anything more contemptible in my life,” he breathed. “Are you sure, Gaston? There could be no mistake?”
“None.”
“So when you went to find the Stanley brothers to make sure their loyalty to Richard remained true, in reality, you were going to join them and Henry Tudor.”
“Correct.”
“Why did you not tell me this before now?”
Gaston shrugged. “I am not sure,” he said. “Pride, perhaps. Confusion, I do not know. Perhaps I was afraid that you would not believe me.”
“When have I ever doubted you?” Matthew fired back softly. “No matter what you say or what you have done, you have not ended our friendship. It is still there, stronger than ever. And no matter if the king ordered me to harm Trenton, I would not do it.”
“Even at the expense of your fealty to Richard?”
“Even so. I would go to the executioner before I harmed your son.”
Gaston knew that. He nodded his head, weakly, struggling against the fatigue and despair that threatened. “Even if you would not, others would.”
“I would kill them all.”
Gaston reached out, slapping a massive hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “I know, my friend,” he assured him quietly. “But what of your family, your wife and father and brothers? Do you have any idea how this would affect them?”
“They would understand. And we would adjust.”
“Then I tell you now,” Gaston looked pointedly at him, “that the man we have sworn to serve is not worthy of your loyalty.”
“And Tudor is?”
“The lesser of the evils.”
A gleam came to Matthew’s eye. “Did you summon me to convince me to switch my allegiance?”
“Nay. I summoned you to tell you of mine.”
“And how did you expect that I would react?”
Gaston lifted his big shoulders. “I do not know. Kill me, perhaps.”
Matthew hissed in disgust. “I would sooner throw myself on my own sword,” he said. But his blue eyes were fixed on Gaston, almost painfully. “What I cannot seem to understand is why you did not tell me any of this sooner. I always thought you and I were closer than brothers, no secrets between us. I guess I was wrong.”
Gaston had been experiencing guilt over that same thought. But it was more than that. “Perhaps my deepest shame was something to be kept to myself. It was not meant as a betrayal to our friendship.”
Matthew was hurt, bewildered and grieved all at the same time. He would have never expected this from someone he had known most of his life, someone who thought exactly as he did. Or so he believed.
“Surely Tudor must know the reasons for your new loyalty,” he said.
Gaston braced his legs slightly apart and crossed his massive arms, his traditional and favorite stance. “Not strangely, when I found the Stanley brothers, they had an offer for me straight from Henry’s mouth. It gave me the opportunity to use it as an excuse for my change in fealty.”
“What is the offer?”
“Yorkshire should Tudor emerge the victor. And there is an offer for you, too.”
