by Lynn Kurland
Robin rose and stretched, then looked at Anne. "Do you mind?"
"Do I ever?"
He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. "You are a most remarkable woman, Anne of Artane," he said quietly, "and I love you deeply."
Anne glowed. Amanda smiled at the sight. Robin could be a boor, true, but he could also be very sweet and she was happy to see that Anne could at least see that part of him that the rest of them so seldom did.
Robin ruffled her hair on his way by. "You are almost tolerable as well," he offered generously.
Amanda blew her hair out of her eyes and looked at Anne. "Can you see why he drives me mad?"
Anne laughed. "He loves you well. And he's quite fond of Jake. I wouldn't worry overmuch. He'll see that Jake is prepared."
"For what?" Amanda asked. "To have my father come home and grind him under his heel?"
"Rhys will look upon him favorably," Anne predicted cheerfully. "What choice will he have? You love Jake."
"His choice will be to choose someone for me who has a title and lands!" Amanda exclaimed.
"Jake will buy those. What cannot be bought, my dearest sister, is a man who will love and honor you all your days and that is what you have found. Your father will see that."
Amanda unclenched her hands, only then realizing how tightly she had them clasped together. "I hope you're right."
"What you need is a walk on the shore," Anne said. "Take Jake tomorrow, away from the keep, away from the lists, and enjoy the sunshine. You won't have many more days of warmth. Take Jake and tell him what is in your heart."
"I would hope he knows."
"Tell him again. They need to hear it often."
Amanda nodded. "I will. The sea air will do me good as well."
"I don't know why you thought Seakirk Abbey was a good choice," Anne said with mock horror. "So far from the sea. How would you have survived it?"
"I didn't care," Amanda said. She drew her hand across her eyes and sighed. "I didn't care and I was a fool. I should have waited."
"Love makes fools of us all," Anne said.
"Whom are you quoting?"
"I don't know, but it is the truth, isn't it?"
"Aye," Amanda said, with feeling. But at least she would be a happy fool and for that she was enormously grateful.
* * *
Chapter 33
Jake looked at the sea and wondered how he was ever going to get his toes in the water again without baring more of himself than was proper. He weighed that sacrifice against the pleasure of holding Amanda's hand and decided it was no sacrifice. Besides, the sea was cold. He could do without it easily.
The day was beautiful. It was cool, but not unpleasant, and the sun shone. It was probably one of the last days before the fall rains began and Jake was very grateful to be on the beach for a change and not in the lists.
Not that he didn't appreciate his time in the lists. But somehow, walking with Amanda was much more enjoyable than being reduced to a quivering mass of abused muscles by one of her elder brothers. Though he generally sparred with Robin, when Robin needed to take a drink or visit the loo, Nicholas was always there, ready and willing to take up a sword and do his best to send Jake into oblivion. Jake didn't complain. The more practice he had, the better his chances of impressing Amanda's father. And given that his future depended on the latter, he was more than willing to accept instruction from either elder de Piaget brother.
Besides, he was really starting to like Nicholas. Nicholas was more laid back than Robin, sneakier, more liable to slide a knife in between your ribs with a smile than Robin was. Jake understood that. He hoped that someday Nicholas would have forgiven him enough that they could just sit down and have a friendly conversation without worrying about that knife. Stranger things had happened.
As if there hadn't been things strange enough in his life already.
Strange and completely marvelous.
He looked at the marvelous part walking next to him. She was silent, but he supposed some of that was likely due to discomfort. She still walked with a limp, and more often than not she would gasp when her back pulled.
Busting the abbess down to scullery maid had been too kind.
Without warning, Amanda stopped and looked up at him. "Montgomery says you are a fairy," she said suddenly.
Well, apparently she was going to forgo the pleasantries and get right down to business. He supposed there was no time like the present to answer a few of her questions.
"Did Montgomery give you proof of that?" he asked.
"He said I should ask you for it."
Apparently Montgomery was very good at keeping secrets. Good for him.
"So I am asking you," Amanda continued. "Are you a fairy?"
"Do you believe in fairies, Amanda?" he asked, after a moment or two.
"I believe," she said, "in what I can touch, in what I can see, in what I can hold in these two hands. But," she admitted with a smile, "I am willing to consider other possibilities."
He looked at her, with her shorn hair blowing around her head, her clear aqua eyes, and her painfully beautiful face, and had the unsettling feeling that none of it was real.
And then she took both his hands in her own.
"So tell me," she said. "Tell me the entire tale, for I suspect there is much more to it than a simple trip to London. And if you want to tell me that you sprang up from the grass, then I will likely believe that as well."
He smiled. "I won't tell you that. But there is certainly more to it than just a trip to London."
"That eases my mind."
He supposed he would see as time went on just how much the truth eased her mind. He put his arm around her shoulders, gently, and turned to walk with her down the shore. "How much faith do you have?"
"In you?"
He nodded.
She walked with him for several moments in silence, then looked up at him. "I've watched you for a goodly part of the summer, and now part of the fall, driving yourself in the lists in a manner than makes Robin look lazy. Am I wrong in assuming you're doing that for me?"
"No," he said slowly, "you aren't wrong."
"Robin says you have given up the life you knew in return for gold and gems that you might buy a title to appease my father. Is that so?"
"That is so," he said.
"Then how can I not have faith in you?"
"You haven't heard all the facts."
"I am not a weak-kneed maid unable to bear up under strain," she said tartly. "Have you no faith in me?"
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I do."
"Then cease with your kissing of every place but where it might do the most good."
He laughed, then turned her gently toward him. He slipped his hand behind her neck, then proceeded to kiss her quite thoroughly. He looked down at her with a smile. "Better?"
"You may proceed," she said, somewhat breathlessly.
He took a deep, steadying breath of his own, then nodded. "All right. But let's walk, if you can. I talk better when I'm walking."
"As you will."
He tightened his arm around her briefly, then looked down at her as they slowly paced down the sea's edge, so she would be able to judge for herself if he was lying. "Montgomery has good reason to think I'm a fairy, but not for the reason he might think. I wouldn't have believed this if it hadn't happened to me, and please do not look at me as if I've lost my mind, but there are, scattered all over England and Scotland…" he had to pause for a moment to see if he could manage to say it without sounding like a complete whacko, "gates through time."
She stopped. "What?"
"Gates through time."
She was every bit the poker player Robin was. She merely looked at him for a very long moment, then looked out over the sea. "Through time," she repeated thoughtfully.
"Just like the gate in and out of a castle. On one side is a certain year; on the other is another."
She chewed on that one for a minute or two. "H
ave you an example?"
"I do. On one side of a certain gate is the year 1227. On the other is the year 2005."
"2005," she repeated, her breath catching. She looked up at him suddenly. "Surely you jest."
He shook his head slowly. "I don't."
"And what have these gates to do with you?" she asked, but he could tell she already knew the answer.
"I used one of them."
"You used one of these gates."
"I did. From 2005."
"From the year of Our Lord's Grace 2005," she repeated with a shiver. "Even saying as much is almost beyond me." She paused. "I am not an uneducated woman, but this stretches the bounds of what I can comprehend."
"Let me finish the story, then you decide what further proof you need," he said easily.
She was silent for several minutes, then she nodded. " 'Tis fair," she agreed. "Very well, how did you come to be, um, here?"
"I was traveling along, and my," he paused and decided that he would have to sit down with a sketchbook at some point and draw things for her, "cart rolled off the road. The spinning seemed to take a very long time and when I woke, I was in your father's solar."
She considered. "What language do they speak in 2005?"
"A variant of the peasant's English. The French I know is much changed from the one we speak together right now."
"And how do you defend yourselves?"
"With lawyers, generally," he said dryly. "No, in my time, we do not fight with swords, or ride horses, for the most part, except for entertainment, or live in castles. Well, there are some who do, but most don't. It costs too much."
"And merchants?"
"That is the business of a great many people," he said. "And my business, the business of gems, requires much education and skill."
"But you do live in London?"
"I did," he said.
"How old are you?" she asked, then she smiled, almost shyly. "I never asked you that."
"Thirty-two."
She shot him a look before she nodded and started to walk with him again. She looked down at her feet as they walked for so long that he wondered if she was really deciding that he'd lost it and it was better to cut her losses and run before she got in any deeper with a lunatic. Jake spared a moment for regret that he hadn't held out his hand when he first met her and given her the whole story. Then again, he hadn't known enough Norman French to have done it justice.
She stopped suddenly and looked up at him. "I am trying to take this on faith."
"Would you like proof?"
She blinked suddenly, several times, as if she were trying not to cry. "Damned sand," she said with a scowl. She dragged her sleeve across her eyes. "I do not doubt you," she insisted. "But…" She looked up at him, pained. "Proof would help."
He laughed, took her face in his hands, and kissed her softly. "The proof will take time to come, but I will give it to you. The baby Anne is carrying now? It will be a boy and his name will be Kendrick. Anne will have two more children, a girl and another boy. Mary and Jason."
She took a deep breath. "Anything else you feel to share?"
"I have a coin from 2005. Robin has it."
Her mouth fell open and she pulled away from him. "Robin knows? You trusted Robin with this secret and not me?"
"He watched me walk through a time gate and disappear," Jake said simply. "I had no choice but to tell him."
She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. "I cannot believe you trusted that bumbling oaf before you trusted me."
"I thought you had enough on your mind."
"Next time," she said, her eyes flashing, "do not do my thinking for me, Jackson Alexander Kilchurn."
"IV."
"The Fourth, damn you to hell."
He laughed. "I promise, I won't."
"If you think I have forgiven you for this, you are sorely mistaken, good sir. It is simply beyond my ability to believe that you would trust my inept brother with a secret of this import before you could see your way clear to take me aside and give me the tidings first." She looked at him furiously. "I am quite angry."
"So I see. How do I apologize?"
She continued to glare at him for several minutes during which time he wondered if he should just excuse himself and go fetch that box of very expensive chocolates Kendrick had put in with his gear.
But before that became absolutely necessary, Amanda suddenly sighed. "Tell me you can do this thing," she said. "I am so afraid—"
"That I will fail?"
"That others will prevent it," she said miserably.
"Let me understand this," he said. "You can believe I am from the future, but you can't believe I can talk Henry out of a title?"
"There are many intrigues at court."
He smiled. "Here's something that might ease your mind. The night before I came to your time, I was standing in a long hallway in Seakirk castle and I watched two ghosts fighting over who was more beautiful, Anne of Artane or the lady Gwen."
Amanda took a deep breath. "Is that so?"
"That is so," he said. "The fight went on for some time. Until a third man, Robert of Conyers, said your name. The other two ghosts put up their swords and agreed in glowing terms that indeed you had been the fairest of them all. When I asked them about you, they looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. Perhaps they knew something I didn't. Perhaps they knew me from 1227. Perhaps Robert had watched me with you for years and wondered why I'd forgotten it all."
"Robert is one of my guardsmen," she said weakly.
"Apparently, eight hundred years in the future, he still thinks you are beautiful."
"Long after I'm dead," she murmured.
"Long after we're both dead," he said.
She hesitated, then put her arms around him and leaned her head on his chest. "I will trust you, though this is difficult for me to believe."
He put his arms around her very carefully. "Is it easier to believe I'm just a simple merchant setting my sights far above my station?"
She laughed briefly. "Aye, I daresay it is."
"Until you decide, trust me. And keep the things I've told you to yourself until you see the truth of them."
"Jake! Amanda!"
Jake looked back up the way to see Montgomery racing toward them, waving his arms above his head.
"Company," Jake said with a sigh.
"Kiss me," she commanded. "I'll have one last bit of peace before he hounds us for the rest of the day."
Jake obliged until Montgomery's hollering came so close that he knew he had to pay attention. He sighed and looked at Amanda's brother.
"What is it?"
"Father's home," Montgomery said breathlessly. "And he wants to see you both."
Jake thought he was far too old to have his stomach flip as it was currently doing. Amanda looked up at him seriously.
"The test is now," she said quietly. "Are you certain?"
"Do you think I'm going to walk away now? Unless there is someone else you would rather have fighting for you—"
"Well, Lord Ledenham is rather appealing," she said with a smile.
"Liar," he said, turning her toward the castle. "Let's go. Best to plead my case sooner than later."
She only shot him a look full of unease. Jake took her hand and walked with her down the beach and slowly back over the dunes to the castle. He kissed her hand once more under the outer bailey barbican, then let go.
"I'd better not take liberties," he said solemnly.
"You aren't taking this nearly as seriously as you should," she chided.
"Of course I am. My future is at stake and so is yours." He put his shoulders back. "I wish I had another year to perfect my swordplay."
"I do too," she said helpfully. "He'll cut you to ribbons."
"Thank you so much for your confidence in my abilities."
"Should I lie?" she asked simply. "My father grew to manhood with a sword in his hands, just as Robin did. How can you possibly hope to match that skill in
a single summer?"
"I can't," Jake said easily. "I'll just do the best I can."
"I know."
He walked up the way with her to the great hall. Men were milling about the courtyard, going up and down the steps and refreshing themselves in the hall. Jake walked in with Amanda, only to have the throng part. He saw, standing near the high table, an older couple. They were dressed simply, but Jake had no trouble realizing that these were Amanda's parents.
He allowed himself to wonder for what was honestly the first time, what in the hell he was thinking to walk up to Amanda of Artane's father and declare his intentions of buying her for his wife. To cross swords with the man who had taught Robin of Artane everything he knew?
He was out of his mind.
He felt Amanda looking up at him. He returned her gaze with what he was certain was a slightly sick smile.
"Do not force me to carry you the rest of the way," she warned.
Jake felt some of the tension ease from him. "Thank you."
"Nay, my thanks to you. You look to be quite heavy."
And then she went and put her arms around her mother.
And Jake understood why Seakirk's ghosts had found Gwennelyn de Piaget worthy of being championed.
Jake admired her from a bit of a distance and knew he was seeing Amanda in twenty years. Gwen was breathtakingly lovely, with highlights of silver in her long, dark hair, and only a few lines of character in her face. Her eyes, though, were Amanda's and Jake found himself being assessed quickly and thoroughly.
And then he realized she was holding out her hand to him.
He wondered if falling to his knees would be overdoing it.
Instead, he stepped forward, took her hand in his, and bowed low over it. He straightened and gave her his most deferential, sincere, please-let-me-have-your-daughter kind of smile.
"I understand," she said, keeping Amanda close to her with her arm around her shoulders, "that I have you to thank for rescuing my daughter from a very poor decision."
"Let us hope she doesn't make another one in its stead," Rhys de Piaget said sternly.
Jake flashed Gwen a grateful smile, then turned to bow to Amanda's father.
"My lord," he said, straightening. He wasn't sure if now would be the proper time to lay out his scheme for Rhys or not, so he kept his mouth shut. He felt Amanda's father take his measure; he wasn't sure if he had been found wanting or not.