Gaston studied him a moment. A year younger than his own son, Trenton, and a sight smaller. But he was a well-formed boy with his mother’s eyes and an inquisitive face.
“Where do you foster?” he inquired.
“Foster?” Dane repeated, glancing at Remington for support. “I… I do not know, my lord.”
“You are of the age when such matters should be decided,” Gaston said, looking to Remington. “Did your husband not make arrangements for him?”
Remington shook her head. “Nay, my lord, he had more important matters on his mind with Richard’s wars.”
Gaston pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Then I see I shall have to do the man’s duty.”
Remington and Dane looked at each other curiously. “You are going to send me away?” Dane asked confused.
“All well-bred young men foster by the time they are eight years,” Gaston explained, puzzled that the boy was so uninformed. “Do not you want to be a knight?”
“Like you?” Dane asked. “Can’t I stay here and learn from you?”
Gaston smiled faintly and Remington was astonished; she did not believe him capable of such a soft action. But he was not only smiling, he was demonstrating a good deal of understanding with her young son and she was doubly surprised. She did not believe the Dark Knight capable of anything other than fear and death.
“’Tis right that you should want to learn from me, of course,” he said, eyeing the boy thoughtfully. “Very well, then, Dane Stoneley. I shall consider allowing you to stay at Mt. Holyoak.”
Dane beamed, displaying his missing front teeth. “I want to fight with a sword and a battle-axe,” he said eagerly, and then his smile faded. “But what of my father? What will he say when he returns?”
Gaston looked long at the boy. “He shall not be returning as far as I know, lad. I am lord of Mt. Holyoak now.”
Dane looked puzzled, not at all sorry that his father would not be coming home. “Are you my mother’s husband, then?”
“Nay, lad, I am not,” he answered.
Dane was sinking further into confusion. “But…you are lord, and my mother is lady. You will not marry her?”
Gaston shook his head. “Truth is, Master Dane, I already have a wife. She and my son live at my keep far to the south. A man can only have one wife, and your mother is already married to your father. Now that I am lord, your mother is no longer lady of Mt. Holyoak.”
Remington felt as if she had been hit in the pit of the stomach, although she had no idea why. Was it because he mentioned that she was no longer lady of Mt. Holyoak? Was it the realization of that finally setting in? She did not stop to think that it was possibly because he had said he was married. Why should the fact that he was married bother her? She cared not what his marital status was.
Dane absorbed the information, though he was still terribly confused. “Then you are to protect us?”
Gaston nodded once, firmly. Dane tilted his head thoughtfully. “Will you protect my mother if my father returns?”
Gaston’s smoky eyes glittered curiously. “Protect her from what?”
“From my father,” Dane insisted.
“That is enough, Dane,” Remington added quietly.
“Why must I protect her from your father?” Gaston ignored Remington. He wanted to hear what the boy had to say.
“Because he hurts her,” Dane said hesitantly. “I can’t protect her, although I have tried. He just hits me, too.”
Remington turned away, her body shaking with embarrassment and shame. Gaston saw her quivering hand move to her head and he received confirmation of what Arik had suggested on the day they had arrived. The woman was abused.
He wasn’t surprised. He knew Stoneley, as he knew all of Richard’s barons. The man was vile and low, and he felta tremendous urge of protectiveness towards Remington and Dane. The fool baron had a beautiful family and he abused them. By God, what he would not have given for a wife and son like Remington and Dane. A wife with unearthly beauty and a son with his mother’s features, intelligent and curious. Why was Stoneley blessed with such a beautiful family when he himself had been cursed with a hellish mistress? It wasn’t fair.
“He shall not hurt you again, Dane,” Gaston said quietly. “I promise you that.”
Remington whirled around, her eyes boring into Gaston. “You cannot promise him that, my lord. ’Tis not fair to him.”
“I can and I will,” Gaston said evenly. “He shall not touch you again. Either of you.”
