Remington’s panic banked somewhat, but she was still filled with trepidation. The knight remained where he stood, highly cognizant of her fear.
“You do not remember me, do you?” he asked gently.
Remington did not realize that her hands were up in front of her protectively. Slowly, the hands came down. “You…you do look familiar. Do I know you?”
“We have met,” he said softly. “I am Sir Hubert Doyle, my lady. We have met on two occasions.”
Her eyes widened. “Sir Hubert of Ripley? And we met in Ripon, as well. I remember.”
He smiled, a gentle smile. “Good. Then, my lady, would you mind telling me what is going on? Who is this man selling your…services?”
Her knees went to liquid and he caught her before she fell, lowering her carefully into the nearest chair. Between great gulps of wine, she told him everything.
Hubert was shocked. He stared at her in open astonishment, running his fingers through his hair in a gesture that reminded her of Gaston. His soft gray eyes were filled with pity and, she thought, anger.
Leaving her to finish her third goblet of wine in peace, he rose on his long legs and paced the room soundlessly. Every so often he would break from his train of thought, looking over at her quivering head.
“Did he do that to your face?” he asked.
Her fingers flitted to her bruised cheek. “Aye.”
“Has he harmed you in any other way?”
She looked up at him, opening her mouth to speak, but sobs bubbled forth instead. Hubert went to her, timidly patting her shoulder. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
She continued to cry. “You paid….a good deal of money for me. Do you intend…?”
He cut her off. “Absolutely not. The moment I saw you, I recognized you. I paid what your husband was asking simply toprevent another man from taking advantage of Sir Gaston’s…woman. My God, this is confusing, isn’t it?”
A choked laugh sputtered forth among the tears. “Aye, it is.”
He crouched beside her, smiling faintly. She met his gaze, wiping at her eyes and he patted her hand. “I am taking you out of here, away from him.”
Her eyes widened. “You are? How? Where will we go?”
He was already standing, gathering his necessary things. Remington watched apprehensively as he strapped on his sword and stashed two daggers in unobtrusive places. He was a big man, quick and agile, with a handsome face and gentle manner.
Suddenly, he moved to the door and unbolted it. Remington jumped, startled, as he bellowed for a servant. When a girl came running, he shoved five gold pieces into her palm.
“Find Lord Stoneley downstairs,” he commanded. “Tell him I am retaining the lady’s services for the night. And furthermore tell him not to disturb us until morning. Is that clear?”
The wench nodded and Hubert gave her a coin for her trouble. When she dashed off, he slammed the door and bolted it again.
“There,” he said softly. “That ought to take care of that bast… your husband. Now, to get us both out of here unnoticed.”
She nodded shakily, rising to unsteady feet. He looked at her a moment. “When did you last eat?”
She thought a moment. “Yesterday, in London, I suppose.”
He moved to a table by the hearth and collected a few bits of food. Into her hands he deposited an apple and a large chunk of bread. “You can eat this on the way,” he told her with an encouraging wink.
Grateful, she took a healthy bite of the bread as Hubert secured a huge black cloak about his shoulders. She watched him a moment, dazed at her turn of luck. In fact, the past twodays had left her reeling and unbalanced so that she hardly knew her own name anymore.
“Sir Hubert,” she said softly. “How is it that you happen to be at this inn?”
“I was returning from Daventry on business for Lord Ingilsby,” he replied, donning his helm. Then he smiled. “It would seem that God was listening to your prayers this day, my lady. I almost did not stop at this place, but all of the other inns were full.”
God had been listening to her, indeed. She smiled timidly. “You know, I have never really believed in God. I only believed in the devil because I was married to him.”
