The Dark One: Dark Knight by Kathryn Le Veque Page B

insects.”
         “I noticed,” Arik said, eyeing a swarm of
gnats a few feet away.  “Tell me, my lady, where is your family from?”
         “Halsey Manor,” Remington replied.  “When
my father died four years ago, there was no one to inherit the place.  It fell
into my husband’s control but it sits empty now.”
         “Is it close by?” he asked, looking down at
her with interest.
         “Mayhap seven or eight miles to the
northeast,” she replied.  “Not far.”
         “Were you born there?”
         “Aye, I was, as was my father,” she
answered.  “My mother was Irish from County Cork.  Skye was born in Ireland.
         “Ah,” Arik nodded.  “So you are half Irish
and half English.  A lovely combination.”
         Her reaction was to blush pleasingly, but
his compliment instantly reminded her of Guy’s flattery and she hated it. 
Instead, she cleared her throat and changed the subject.  “Where are you from?”
         “My parents are Norse, settled in Kent just
before I was born.  “I was their only son and they were adamant that I be an
English knight.  A noble profession.”
         Remington thought of Dane, and of Charles. 
They, too, thought knighthood to be noble.  She thought it was professional
bloodlust.
         They crossed into the inner bailey and
Remington was nearly run over by a reckless wagon driver.  Arik snatched her
against him to prevent her from being crushed, but she suddenly turned into a
fighting cat and roughly yanked herself away from him.  She couldn’t stand to
be held by a man, any man for that reason.
         The wagon passed and Arik looked shocked. 
“I apologize, my lady, if I offended you.  It was just that….”
         Remington shook her head, backing away from
him.  “It was not your fault, truly.  I just…I must return.”
         She spun on her heel and raced back into
the castle, leaving Arik confused.  There was suddenly someone beside him.
         “What happened?” Gaston asked, watching
Remington disappear into the innards of the castle.
         Arik lifted his shoulders.  “Nothing at
all…I think.  Oh, hell, I do not know.  She had come to speak with you about
her sister and I happened to pull her out of the way of a speeding cart.  She
acted as if I tried to take advantage of her.”
         Gaston sighed slowly, long and deep.  “Her
son told me yesterday that Sir Guy used to beat her, quite severely I gather. 
She fears men in general, I think, so it would be best to tread lightly around
her until she realizes we are not a threat.  That goes for the sisters, too.”
         Arik crossed his arms.  “Then I was right
with my first observations.  That woman has been terribly abused.  The boy,
too?  And the sisters?”
         “From what I understand, all of them to
some extent,” Gaston answered unemotionally, though that was far from the
truth.  He found that he was quite emotional about it, although he had no right
to be.
         “This bothers you,” Arik stated.
         Gaston looked at him, seeing that Arik was
studying him curiously.  “’Tis no concern of mine.”
         Arik did not believe him for a moment but
he let it slide.  “The fact remains; what do you intend to do with the lady and
her sisters?  With Stoneley locked away in prison for the rest of his natural
life, his wife and her family are in question.”
         “There is no question.  She will stay here
and remain chatelaine,” Gaston said flatly.  “And her family stays with her.”
         “The old man runs the castle, Gaston, not
Lady Stoneley,” Arik pointed out.  “You could keep him on and get rid of the
rest.  They are of no use.”
         “Why are you so eager for me to order them
away?” Gaston asked curiously.  “In the first place, where in the hell would I
send them?  Lady Remington told me that they have no family and nowhere