“But Adéle and your other women are quite alive and, I would imagine, quite inconvenient to you now that you are contemplating taking a wife,” he said. “Now you would cast them all aside simply because you feel something for another woman?”
Gaetan sat back, mulling over the question. “Adéle knows that I hold no feelings for her,” he said. “She has been with me many years. She knows my thoughts and she knows that marriage was never a possibility. She is a slave, Aramis, and nothing more. And my sons… I adore my sons but to have legitimate heirs with a woman like Ghislaine would make me the proudest man alive.”
Aramis understood that because he was having the very same feelings. But Gaetan was his liege; it wasn’t as if he could fight the man on this and his disappointment was deep. The noble thing would be for him to back away. Perhaps he could; perhaps he couldn’t. He wasn’t exactly sure what he felt for the lady, either. And in that respect, what he would verbalize would be much the same as Gaetan. Both of them career knights, unused to emotional attachments.
Until Ghislaine entered their world.
“She would produce magnificent sons,” he agreed. “But you do not see her as simply the mother of your heirs, do you? She is much more than that.”
Gaetan nodded slowly, a bobbing of the head that was both thoughtful and hesitant. “It is strange, Aramis,” he said. “I never wanted to marry. You have known me for years and you know I have avoided marriage as if it were poison. I suppose I never met a woman I considered worthy of marriage but in Ghislaine, I see a woman more worthy than I am. Now, I am afraid she will not want me because I am not good enough for her.”
Aramis lifted his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Then you should ask her.”
“What if she denies me?”
“Then I will be there to ask her if she feels I am worthy of her.”
Gaetan looked at him. “You would take her from me?”
“I cannot take that which does not belong to you. But I will give you the first opportunity to marry her. If she refuses you, then you will not begrudge me if I do.”
It was a fair enough bargain. Gaetan didn’t like the thought of Aramis married to Ghislaine but it wasn’t as if he could prevent it. He was quite worthy of her, as well. Aramis would inherit his father’s title, Count of Roeselare, someday. So he would be a most worthy man with titles and wealth. Moreover, Aramis was a man of good character. Perhaps a little rough around the edges, but he was of good character. Gaetan considered him a close friend.
“I appreciate your honesty,” he said. “And I appreciate that you will give me the first opportunity to express my feelings for her. I shall not forget your generosity.”
Aramis lingered by the end of the bed before coming around and laying an enormous hand on Gaetan’s shoulder. “You have been a great and true friend to me, Gate,” he said. “I could not live long enough to repay everything you have done for me. Although I had hoped I was wrong and that your attention towards the lady was nothing more than duty, I understand that you feel something for her. That is a rare thing, my friend. What is affection and love in our world?”
Gaetan looked up at him, appreciating his words, his reaction to the situation. “It is a curse or it is a blessing,” he said. “I have seen it curse men until they were ghosts of their former selves but, in the case of Kristoph and my sister, I have seen the blessings between them. I have always envied that bond but never thought I would know it for myself. Mayhap I shall not. If the lady does not return my feelings, then I will not begrudge you if she finds comfort in you. She could do worse.”
Aramis snorted, patted his shoulder one last time, and left the hut. Gaetan felt a great deal of relief when the man was gone but not for his absence; it was for the understanding between them now, something he knew he had to get out in the open before it festered. He had too much respect for Aramis not to clear the air. Although he wasn’t happy that Aramis had some feelings towards Ghislaine, he knew Aramis was a man of honor. In fact, he felt some pity for the man, expressing feelings for a woman he would probably never have.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t.
Gaetan looked down at Ghislaine, sleeping heavily beside him. She was still holding on to one of his hands that, by this time, was numb. He couldn’t feel his fingers any longer. He studied her face in the weak light, the way her lashes fanned out against her cheek, the tiny little scar she had on her forehead near the hairline, and the rosebud lips that were pale but still quite kissable. Here in the darkness, with no one watching, he did, indeed, kiss them tenderly.
They were as sweet as he had imagined.
But he wasn’t entirely alone; he knew that. He could hear the old man over in the darkness behind him, rummaging about. The old man who had heard the conversation between him and Aramis, although he didn’t much care. It was done. Still holding Ghislaine’s hand, he looked over his shoulder towards the rustlings sounds.
“My men and I have not eaten since this morning,” he said. “Is there a tavern nearby?”
The old man was cleaning off his knives with vinegar. “Aye,” he replied. “Down the road is a place called The King’s Head. They will provide a meal for a price.”
“And a bed?”
“You can sleep there, also.”
Gaetan turned to look at Ghislaine. Gently, he stroked her forehead with his free hand. “I must leave her here, at least for the night,” he said. “I will pay you well for your services and the use of the bed.”
The old man wandered in his direction, peering down at his patient. “She will sleep until tomorrow,” he said. “Go and eat. She will be here when you return.”
Gaetan didn’t want to leave her but the apothecary had a point; she was dead asleep. She wouldn’t know if he’d left to eat, something he and his knights very much needed to do. Reluctantly, he nodded.
“You will watch over her?” he asked.
The old man nodded, turning away to put his knives away. “I will not leave.”
Carefully, Gaetan disengaged his fingers from her grip, pulling the dirty woolen blanket up over her. His gaze lingered on her even as he stood up and stretched the kinks out of his big body.
“Then my men and I will find something to eat,” he said, turning for the door. “I will return shortly.”
The old man simply nodded, busying himself at his table as Gaetan slipped from the hut.
Once outside, Gaetan stretched out his body again, rubbing at a spot on his back that was sore from having sat hunched over for so long. His men were standing around, weary and waiting.
“Has she awoken?” Téo asked.
Gaetan shook his head. “She sleeps like the dead,” he said. Then, he looked around. “Where are the horses?”
“There is a livery on the other side of the cathedral,” St. Hèver told him. “When you took the lady inside the apothecary, Lance and I took the horses to the livery. They are well tended.”
“And our possessions?”