by Lynn Kurland
"I know, my lord."
Rhys looked back at him. "And yet you are here. And these things prove it beyond all reasonable doubt." He shook his head again with a smile, then set the license aside. "You showed well today," he noted.
"Thank you, my lord."
"You have more work to do."
"I know, my lord."
"I understand 'tis only a pair of months you've been at it."
"That is true, my lord."
Rhys nodded. "Very well. You may continue to use Robin as practice, if you will, but I would like to see to your training as long as you are within my walls."
"Thank you," Jake managed. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing to have been offered or not. He wasn't one to jump to conclusions, but as long as you are within my walls didn't exactly sound like a rousing endorsement of Jake as husband material.
"Robin says these heavy brown bags of gold in my coffers are yours."
A knock sounded on the door before Jake could answer. Robin stuck his head in politely, then entered and dropped three more brown bags and four navy-blue velvet bags on the table in front of Jake.
"Thought those might be useful," he said, then started toward the door. "You'll note that I didn't lose any."
"Duly noted," Jake said as Robin was closing the door.
Rhys looked at the new offerings, then retrieved the rest from his trunk. He shot Jake a look. "May I?"
"Of course, my lord."
Rhys poured all the gold out, counted it very carefully, then sat back and looked at it for another protracted, excruciating amount of time. Jake was very thankful for an adulthood spent dealing with just these sorts of situations. He'd sat for hours with gem traders, playing chicken, waiting for the first move not to be his.
Only those had been just rocks at stake.
This was Amanda.
Rhys looked at the blue sacks. "And those?"
"Gems."
"May I?"
"Of course, my lord."
Rhys spilled the bags out one at a time. He was fairly impassive about it all until he opened the bag with the finished jewelry. Those he removed piece by piece, slowly and very carefully. He looked at Jake briefly after he'd examined each piece. When he finally pulled out the diamond and aquamarine ring, he spoke.
"This is for Amanda," he said.
"Yes."
"You fashioned this yourself."
"I did."
Rhys took a deep breath, blew it out as he looked heavenward, then fixed his gaze on Jake. "I have never seen anything like it. Even the king has not jewels this fine."
"His gemsmiths probably don't have the tools I had."
"Or the imagination," Rhys said, with another smile. He looked at everything spread out in front of him and shook his head. "Impressive."
"Is it enough?"
Rhys looked at him with a glint in his eye. "For me, or for Henry?"
"Either."
"It was enough this morning for me," Rhys said. "For Henry?" He shrugged. "The lad is still young and barely in control of his crown, but his regent Lord de Burgh is not an ungreedy man. Still, this will be enough."
"All of it?" Jake asked, blinking in surprise.
"Is my daughter not worth it?"
"I had hoped to keep a little back to feed her with," Jake said honestly.
Rhys very carefully wrapped up the jewelry and replaced it. He put the gems back in the bags. He divided the coins into piles, then replaced them as well. He pushed the gem bags to one side, along with two bags of coins. The others, which Jake was unsurprised to find were in the neighborhood of six, remained grouped together, as if they planned a bit of subterfuge.
"These will do," Rhys said.
"I'm relieved."
Rhys looked at him with one raised eyebrow. " 'Tis not too much?"
"I would have given all of it," Jake said honestly.
"Not the ring."
"Well," Jake said with a smile, "perhaps not the ring."
Rhys looked at the bags. "Shall I keep these safe for you until we go to Seakirk to meet with the king?"
"Do you have a reason to?"
Rhys smiled and nodded toward the door. "Go fetch your lady and we'll see what she thinks of you."
"Of course, my lord." He hesitated. "And if I obtain land and a title?"
Rhys smiled. "Then you shall have your heart's desire." He paused. "You have given up much for her."
"I would do it again a thousand times."
Rhys smiled. "Well spoken."
Jake hesitated. "You know, my lord, about Seakirk," he said slowly. "I'm not popular there."
"Neither am I, though I daresay I don't have the distinction of having terrorized hapless nuns," Rhys said with a smile, then he sobered. "Your gear here," he said, nodding toward Jake's things. " 'Tis damning."
Jake nodded. "It is. How hot is your cooking fire?"
"Hot enough. We'll descend there later tonight and see to the deed together. No one will gainsay me, though Cook may rifle through the ashes after the fact to make certain I haven't assaulted her domain and left something foul behind." He nodded toward the door. "For now, go fetch Amanda."
Jake smiled. "Thank you."
"Well, you've won one battle, but the war is not over yet. And I haven't heard her say you aye," Rhys said, with a twinkle in his eye.
"True," Jake said, but he walked toward the door just the same.
Rhys cleared his throat from behind him.
"Jake?"
Jake turned with his hand on the door. "My lord?"
Rhys was silent for several moments, looking for the first time to be almost hesitant. Jake almost asked him what troubled him, but suddenly, he suspected that he might know.
After all, it wasn't every day mat a medieval lord was faced with a man from the future.
Silence fell between them, as peacefully and still as snow descending in the depths of winter. Jake was quite certain that the moment would be etched upon his memory in much the same way his first sight of Amanda had been, or his first glimpse of a medieval Artane. For the rest of his life, every time he sat in Rhys de Piaget's solar, he would be able to bring to mind this precise point in time when he looked at Artane's lord and gave him answers to questions the man seemed reluctant to ask.
"My lord," Jake said gravely, "is there something I might tell you?"
Rhys nodded with an almost imperceptible sigh. "If you would." He paused. "Three things."
Jake was tempted to ask him if he might not have more than three questions about the future, but couldn't bring himself to do so. There would be time enough, he supposed, if all went well, to tell Amanda's father all he might wish to know about the marvels that lay ahead of mankind. For now, he would satisfy the man's curiosity on a small scale in the best way he could.
"Three things," Jake began, waiting for Rhys to nod in agreement. "Very well, my lord, the first thing you should know is that the world does not end in the Year of Our Lord's Grace 1300."
Rhys raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't?"
"It doesn't."
Rhys absorbed, then nodded. "Go on."
"The world is round."
"Indeed," Rhys said, looking surprised. "Is it, indeed? They say otherwise, but I must admit, the thought of falling off its edges never sat well with me. Very interesting," he said with a nod. "Now, the last, if you please."
Jake considered what else he might say that would suffice the very proud, very astute man sitting in front of him. He took a moment or two to look around Rhys's study. There were signs of medieval affluence, certainly. It was, oddly enough, the same feeling of subdued power and influence that Jake had noticed in Gideon de Piaget's office. Auras of power and influence were the same, apparently, no matter the century. Jake spared a kind thought for Gideon and his nod to Fate's hand, and another handful of kind thoughts to Gideon's family and extended relations.
And even as he did so, Jake knew quite suddenly just what would matter the most to Rhys de Piaget.
&
nbsp; "The third thing," Jake began slowly.
Rhys nodded, just as slowly.
"Eight hundred years from now, my lord, Artane still stands."
Rhys smiled faintly. "Does it now?"
"Yes. And your descendants still inhabit it."
Rhys's eyes were suddenly quite moist. He looked around his own study, then put his hands on his desk for a moment or two before he cleared his throat roughly. "You should go fetch your lady," he said, his voice hoarse. "Before she wears a trench in my floor that will leave my posterity stumbling centuries from now."
Jake smiled, made Rhys a low bow, and left the room to give the man some privacy. He pulled the door shut behind him, then stood there for a moment or two to gather his own thoughts. He looked up and blew out his breath.
He'd done it.
All right, so there was still the hurdle of the king to be surmounted. But now, Jake had the feeling that he might have an ally in his cause, an ally who was sitting back behind that door no doubt contemplating the state of his castle centuries in the future. And who could blame Rhys for it? Artane was a magnificent place. And, as Gideon had once said, the family was a decent bunch, all through the centuries. Jake knew he would be grateful for the rest of his life to claim them as well.
But they were, after all, just the setting for the true gem whom he didn't doubt was doing just as her father said she was, and wearing a trench in the great hall floor.
Jake smoothed his hand along the stone as he walked down the passageway, stone that would last at least eight centuries into the future.
With any luck, and enough gold in his fists, he would win the woman of his dreams and begin a family that would last just as long.
He smiled, and quickened his pace down the hallway.
* * *
Chapter 36
Amanda walked along the beach, dragging her bare feet through the sand and shivering because of it. She pulled her cloak more closely around her and wondered if she'd lost what little wits remained her. It was cold; it was rainy; it was windy. She would have been better served to be inside where she might sit by a fire and be warm.
But the thought of sitting inside when she had no idea what her future might hold was as appealing as a few fortnights in her father's dungeon. She had to pace. Best that she pace where there was room for it.
It had been almost a month since her father had returned home. She had watched Jake train with her sire during the mornings and continue with Robin in the afternoons. He spent his evenings discussing affairs of the realm with anyone who could stomach it. It was generally her sire to indulge him in such discussions, which somehow seemed to please her sire. Amanda supposed that it was because Jake was interesting to talk to, or it could have been that he was interested in what Rhys had to say about things, or it could have been just that Rhys favored him. Amanda couldn't have said. All she knew was that her father, Robin, Nicholas, and Jake had ridden to Seakirk Abbey almost a se'nnight ago and she'd had no word from any of them since.
Louts. Had they no idea of her torment?
She rubbed her arms vigorously, wished for another cloak, then turned her face into the wind and stared out over the sea. She had spent copious amounts of time doing just that over the past fortnight—even before Jake had left for Seakirk. She'd had much on her mind.
Not the least of which had to do with the year he'd left behind.
She'd seen the coin he'd given Robin. She'd seen his Future gear. She'd had all the proof she could have wanted.
And more than she'd needed.
He'd confessed one evening as they'd stood on the roof together that he regretted not having told her sooner. At the time, the admission had soothed her pride, but now she suspected that he'd been wise beyond knowing.
2005. The very numbers still felt foreign in her mind. She had never considered that the world might last so long, or that someone from that Future might come to her keep.
And steal her heart.
But now, now that he was gone again trying to secure a future for her, she wondered how it was she had ever managed the future without him.
Nicholas had reminded her every chance he had that Jake was daft. Montgomery gave her knowing looks now and then and made a shape with his hands that looked remarkably like two fairy wings flapping. But even with those votes of no confidence in Jake's origins, Nicholas had warmed to him. Montgomery adored him.
Amanda understood.
The man was fascinating, Like a gem that never ceased to please the eye or invite scrutiny as it was turned this way and that.
Amanda hugged herself, grateful for a form that didn't protest when she did so, and said a little prayer. She Likely should have been on her knees in the chapel, but she was far too restless for that.
King Henry had just declared his majority and ascension to the throne. Surely he would be hungry for more support in the north. Surely Jake would look at him with that way he had that demanded ever so easily that he be taken seriously and agreed with. And surely that hefty bag or two of gold he was taking with him would speak more loudly than any of that.
The wind grew stronger. Amanda shivered. The chill had become stronger than what even she could bear. She turned to start back for the keep, then froze.
Jake was standing a hundred paces down the strand from her, simply watching her. He wasn't moving. She couldn't even tell if he was smiling.
She started toward him. And then she started to run.
He met her halfway.
And he swept her up into his arms with a jubilant laugh and spun her around until she begged him to stop.
"Well?" she demanded.
He set her on her feet, took a step or two backward, and bowed low.
"If I might present myself to my lady," he said formally. "Jackson, Lord of Raventhorpe. At your service. Night. Day. All hours in between."
Amanda gasped. "Raventhorpe?"
Jake grinned. "Brilliant, isn't it?"
"Dangerous," she corrected promptly. "On the border with those savage Scots. Perilous. Dilapidated. Unsecured."
"Mine," he said, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her. "It is also right on the sea, my most lovely Amanda, and I understand that on a clear day, you can see Artane in the distance. If you squint," he added.
She hugged him tightly. "Congratulations."
"Not condolences?" he murmured against her ear.
She smiled in spite of herself. "I love the unknown. Look whom I'm wedding."
He pulled back and looked at her. "Are you betrothed, then?"
She scowled at him. "You know what I meant."
"I haven't asked you yet."
"Then you'd damned well better be about your business, my lord, lest I change my mind."
But she smiled as she said it, so hard that her cheeks ached. He was just as merry. He went down on one knee, right there in the sand, and looked up at her.
"Amanda of Artane, love of my life and light of my heart, will you marry me?"
"Are you certain you want me?" she asked. "Now being lord of your own hall and all."
"I traveled a very long way to have you and you were very expensive," he said, his eyes twinkling. "But I see you are unconvinced of my sincerity." He reached down into his boot and pulled out something that he subsequently slipped onto her finger. "Does this improve my chances of having your heart?"
Amanda looked down at the band of stars that went all the way around her finger, shining even in the gloom of a rainy fall day. Then she found that they sparkled even more through her tears.
"Stardust," she said, unable to tear her gaze away from her trembling hand. Then she put her hands on his cheeks, then leaned over and kissed him softly. "You did it all. Just as you said."
"Is that my answer?"
She shook her head, then pulled him to his feet. "Nay, but this is: Aye, I will wed with you, Jackson, lord of that renegade-infested Raventhorpe keep, and count myself the most fortunate of women."
"And I the most fortu
nate of men," he said.
And then he kissed her.
Amanda closed her eyes and melted against him. It was all more than she had ever expected, and so much more than she had ever dared dream. A man she loved, desired, and couldn't imagine life without.
Stardust dreams indeed.
Jake pulled his head away from hers finally and took a ragged breath.
"We should go back inside."
"Why?"
"Because if I don't find a chaperone very quickly, we'll be in trouble."
"My guardsmen won't do?"
"Damn, I forgot about them." He smiled down at her. "Well, we should go in anyway. I imagine you've been out here all week. I don't want you repeating your vows with a stuffy nose. People will think you're weeping because I forced you to the altar."
"No one will think that," she promised. "I will make certain of it. But I could do with a bit of a fire now that I've no more need for pacing." She took his hand and walked with him back down the shore toward the keep. "So, tell me of your time with Henry. He is quite young, is he not?"
"Twenty-five. But I think he's been seasoned in court for years, so he's definitely not easily fooled."
"What did you say to him?"
"I didn't see Henry at first," he admitted. "Your father managed an audience with Hugh de Burgh. Apparently, he didn't start out with much either, so my tale appealed to him."
"It would," she agreed. "From minor nobility to regent of England. So," she said, "you used your glib tongue to plead your case?"
"Words and gold. A potent combination."
"And with Henry?"
"Words, gold, and a contingent of Artane males standing behind me," Jake said with a grin. "A very potent combination. I promised the king to be on his side here in the north, handed him a gem or two and, again, bags of gold, and the deal was done."
She looked up at him, unable to stop smiling. "You did it."
"I couldn't have, without your father and brothers. Though I will admit," he said modestly, "that while I was waiting, I sketched a little portrait of His Majesty. When I handed that to him with the rest of the goods, he was pleased."