“I must be going,” he said quickly.
“Good,” Gaston grumbled. “I am weary of your company.”
Arik grinned and, with a final glance at Remington, moved for the stairs. But she called out to him and he paused at the top, his expression politely inquisitive.
She was dressed in a flowing robe of icy blue, layers of silk that swathed her in luxury. She looked glorious, but her lovely face was tense.
“Have you seen Dane?” she asked Arik. “He is not in his room.”
Arik looked puzzled. “I took him there myself, my lady, several hours ago. If he is not there, then I have no idea where he might be.”
Remington’s brow furrowed with worry and her eyes sought out Gaston. He could see in the bright moon glow that her eyes had taken on the blue of the robe and he was amazed at the chameleon-quality of her eyes. “Have you seen him?” she pleaded.
He shook his head. “He is around here somewhere, Remi. No one has left the gates since this afternoon.”
Arik raised his eyebrows. “Remi?” he mouthed to Gaston.
Gaston ignored him and went to Remington, who was in obvious distress. “Go back to bed. I shall look for him.
Her angelic face was tense. “But he never strays after dark. He is afraid of the dark.”
Gaston put his hands on her shoulders and steered her toward Arik. “I have the watch tonight, all night, and nothing to do. I shall search for him right now. Arik, please escort Lady Remington back to her room.”
Her soft eyes were pleading as she covered his massive hand with her own. “He is afraid of the dark,” she repeated softly.
He patted her hand reassuringly. “I promise I will not rest until I find him. Go with Arik, now, and rest assured.”
With a sigh of reluctance, she allowed Arik to take her down the narrow stairs, the only such flight on the wall. Every othermethod of access was a ladder. Gaston hovered at the top of the stairs, watching Arik carefully assist her. When she crossed into the inner bailey on Arik’s arm, he finally turned away and tried to determine the best place to look for a seven-year-old boy.
Unfortunately, Dane was not to be found. Gaston searched for two hours on his own and then commandeered a company of soldiers to assist him.
Every inch of the walls and bailey were searched. Even the half-finished troop house and the sublevels were covered, but still no Dane, and Gaston began to feel distinctively uneasy. What if the boy had indeed run off? Or worse, taken away? His thoughts turned to Lord Brimley’s encampment and he pondered the possibility that Dane was somehow within the perimeter, be it of his own choosing or against his will. Brimley had been, after all, eager to take Stoneley’s family back with him to Crayke Castle.
The night went on and still no Dane, and Gaston began to seriously consider raiding Brimley’s camp in search of the lad. But the castle of Mt. Holyoak had yet to be searched, and he would complete his sweep before moving forward with such a provocative action. He had been preaching peace all afternoon; to go charging into Lord Brimley’s camp with swords drawn would brand him a hypocrite and he was positive that it would ruin any chances for an alliance.
Silently, his soldiers moved through Mt. Holyoak in search of the boy. Gaston took the most active role in the search, trying to think like a seven-year-old boy would. He had been lively at dinner with no outward signs of distress. So where in the hell would he go?
Five hours into the search, Gaston was mystified and upset. Dane was nowhere within the castle walls, of that he was sure, and he felt a sense of panic. He knew without a doubt that Brimley’s camp was verily close to a strip-search, but he reinedhis emotions and wisely ordered two of his trusted knights to assemble a raiding party. Were he to do it, he would assemble an overload of men and probably crush Brimley into the earth. He ordered the men to form and wait for him.
There was one place he had not checked, and that was the family wing. Aye, he had checked Dane’s room when they first began the search in the castle, but he had not checked the other bedchambers. It was entirely possible that he was sleeping with someone else.
The corridor was dim as he walked silently to the first door. Rory was asleep, spread out over the sheet and was looking most angelic in spite of her devilish nature. She was a faintly pretty girl, more so when she was sleeping. Quietly, he closed the door.
Skye and Charles were asleep in their respective rooms with no company. Somewhat disheartened that Dane wasn’t with Charles, he moved to Remington’s door.
She was asleep on her side, facing him. The faint glow from the hearth illuminated her features gently, making her appear almost surreal. By God, if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He felt his heart soften as he gazed at her, fighting off a roaring river of emotions that threatened him.
She was lying atop the coverlet, still in the turquoise robe and he guessed she had fallen asleep waiting for her son to return. Even with the fire, there was a definite chill in the room and she twitched in her sleep, curling up her legs to stay warm.
He moved into the room silently, folding the great coverlet up from the ends and wrapping it around her, tucking her in firmly. He was bent over her, covering her shoulders and smiled when she sighed contentedly, like a child. His hand, with a mind of its own, smoothed the hair on her head, feeling the silken strands between his fingers. His nostrils, not to be left out of the experience, demanded to smell her hair and he lifted the curls to his face, inhaling deeply.
He stood there a moment and gazed upon her, memorizing every line of her face and feeling the most marvelous, peculiar emotions he had ever sampled. By God’s Bloody Rood, she was only a woman. Why on earth did he react to her as if she were something more incredible than life itself?
Because she was different. He had only to look at her and know that. He had only to look at her and realize he was in the mighty grip of something far more powerful than he was.
He ran his index finger down her silky cheek and stood up, moving for the door. As much as he would have liked to have stayed and gaze upon her all night, he had more immediate duties pressing. Dane was still missing and he had to find him.
He closed the door softly and paused a moment, defining his thoughts. It suddenly occurred to him that there was one bedchamber he had not checked– his. He almost decided not to, knowing it to be a waste of time. Yet, something told him to check for his own peace of mind. After all, he wanted to be able to say he had looked everywhere for Dane when he cut into Brimley’s camp bent on destruction.
