Her mind would run wild if she let it. Banking her fears, her exhaustion-fed imaginings, she convinced herself calmly that she was safe now, thanks to Sir Hubert.
Thank you, God.
*
At exactly midnight,Guy mounted the stairs to the second floor of the inn. Expecting to find a verily pleased knight and one exhausted woman, he rapped softly at the door. When he received no answer, he knocked louder. He continued to knock until, irritated, he called out to the knight to awaken and open the door.
Still no answer, he rattled the latch himself and was surprised to find it open. Cautiously, he pushed the door open but did not enter the room. He stood back in the jamb, his ice-blue eyes inspecting every shadow and crevice of the dimly lit room.
It was empty.
Anger settled in his chest and his eyes narrowed. Strolling slowly into the room, he glanced about for any signs of his wife and the knight. There was a half-empty wine flask on the table and an empty cup, and the remainders of a meal.
The bed had been sat on, but was not mussed beyond that. He wandered off to the small bed, his eyes grazing the dirty coverlets. It did not take a brilliant man to deduce that the bed had not been used for the illicit encounter.
So where were they? Guy turned a complete circle, scanning the room. The window was closed, and everything was fairly in order. But there was no knight, and no Remington.
They had vanished.
Impossible, he told himself calmly. He had been seated in the common room the entire evening and they had not escaped him, of that he was sure.
So where were they?
Guy went back downstairs. It was late and there were several soldiers snoring on the dirty floor, the smell of ale and urine heavy in his nostrils. The innkeeper was wiping at a stack of wooden trenchers when he approached.
“There was a well-dressed knight who sought board from you this night. A tall man, young. He occupied the second room upstairs, on the right. Did he, perchance, leave?”
The innkeeper glanced at him. “Ye mean the man with the polished armor? The new gloves?” When Guy nodded, the proprietor shook his head. “I ’aven’t seen ’im. Why do ye ask?”
A muscle in Guy’s cheek twitched, not particularly eager to answer the question. “Would his horse be stabled in the livery out back?”
“Aye, it would,” the innkeeper said. “A fine animal, my son says.”
Guy did not say another word. Be pushed past the owner, through the kitchens, and out into the yard. The night had grown cool as he made his way back to the dilapidated structure.
A young lad was asleep on a cot of straw. Guy kicked him on the foot and the youth let out a yelp, rubbing his heel. The boy looked up into a very angry, very frightening face.
“What the… what is it, m’lord?” he swallowed.
“Did anyone leave this night?”
The boy nodded slowly. “A few.”
“Did a knight leave? And did he have a woman with him?” The boy thought a moment. “Aye, a knight left three or four hours ago. But ’e did not ’ave a woman with ’im.”
Guy’s nostrils flared and the lad instinctively moved away, rising unsteadily. The man with the pale blue eyes scared him.
“Was the man tall and fair? Well-dressed?” Guy asked patiently.
“Aye, m’ lord,” the boy nodded. “And ’e ’ad a very fine animal.”
“But no woman?”
“No,” the boy shook his head.
Guy thought a moment. “You did not catch his name, mayhap?”
The young man shook his head hard. “’e did not give me ’is name. But he paid me a coin for saddling ’is destrier. Said he ’ad to be on ’is way.”
