by Lynn Kurland
“Theophilus de Piaget,” the blond said, grinning. “And this is my less handsome, less intelligent but far more mischievous brother, Samuel.”
Samuel made Stephen a low bow. “At your service, always. Now, who are you again?”
“Stephen,” Stephen said, imagining the less he said, the better.
“Stephen of where?” Samuel asked innocently. “Somewhere near here, perhaps? Are you a relative? You look so much like Phillip, I daresay you could be bro—”
Theophilus slapped the back of his brother’s head sharply. “He looks like no one,” he finished, shooting his brother a warning look. “No one we would know, surely.” He looked at Stephen and made his own low bow. “My lord, I believe your lady looks cold. Why don’t I escort her inside and leave you to your torture—I mean, exercises out here with Uncle Robin?”
Stephen looked at Peaches and studied her for a moment or two. Whilst she seemed happy to see him, surely that wouldn’t have been enough to induce her to risk traveling through time. There was something else afoot, something that he could see in her face was rather more serious than he might have wished it to be. He glanced at Theophilus. “Why don’t you retreat a safe distance away from my sword and let me have speech with my lady first?”
“’Tis probably just as well, Theo,” said Samuel with a look thrown his twin’s way that Stephen couldn’t quite decipher. “Undue scrutiny and all.”
“From Uncle Robin, of course,” Theophilus said, returning his brother’s look.
“Who else?” Samuel asked politely.
Who, indeed? Stephen didn’t know, didn’t want to know, and didn’t bother to ask. He simply waited until the twins had retreated a discreet distance before he looked at Peaches again.
“What happened?” he asked in a low voice. “Did you find something?”
She nodded. “I read what you had left open in your library in Cambridge, but I couldn’t get over thinking that there had to be more to it than met the eye.”
“And what did you discover?” he asked warily.
“That one of your more recent ancestors was a keen gambler and his contemporary at Kenneworth was, it would seem, a very skilled cheat.” She smiled faintly. “It’s a good thing I’ve been researching all that Regency history.”
Stephen groaned. “Why do I think this means I’m going to be going somewhere else and mincing about in heels?”
“Because we’re having this discussion in medieval England, in the freezing cold, and neither of us thinks it’s weird. I left a suitcase full of Regency gear hidden behind a rock.”
He smiled. “You’re a wonder.”
She wasn’t smiling, though. He found that her seriousness had quickly become his.
“There’s something else,” he said, looking at her in surprise. “Isn’t there?”
She started to speak, then looked to his right. Robin had come to stand next to him. Stephen introduced them to each other, then watched Peaches’s face as she and Robin chatted very briefly. The chill that ran down his spine when she turned to look at him was very unpleasant.
“What is it?” he asked hoarsely.
She put her hands on his arms he hadn’t realized he’d crossed over his chest again. “It’s your father.”
He blinked. That surprised him, for his father had been in perfectly good health when he’d seen him the week before. “Did he have an accident?”
She shook her head slowly. “He had a heart attack.”
“Well, what have they done for him?” Stephen demanded. “Is he in hospital … or …” He stopped speaking because he saw the answer in her face. He knew he had swayed only because Robin’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder, grasping him with such strength that he winced. He took a deep breath and looked at Peaches. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”
Her eyes were full of tears. “Stephen, I’m so sorry.”
Stephen shook his head, because he couldn’t imagine it. “But he was fine last weekend. I talked to him yesterday morning and he was well.” He looked at her bleakly. “I don’t understand.”
She hesitated.
“Was it an accident, or …”
“He had a letter from the Duke of Kenneworth.”
Stephen felt as if he’d run into a brick wall. “I’m going to kill him.” He shook off Robin’s restraining hand. “I am going to kill David Preston with my bare hands—”
“Nay, you are not,” Robin said firmly. “Hand your sword to your lady, lad, and we’ll have a run. And you’ll come back to your senses before you do something stupid to whichever whoreson this David Preston happens to be.”
“His mother is a very lovely woman,” Stephen managed.
“I’m sure his father’s mother wasn’t,” Robin said shortly. “Hand over your sword, boy, and let’s start before Anne sends out torches to light the way.”
Stephen fumbled with the buckle but his hands were shaking too badly to be of any use. Peaches unbuckled the leather belt for him, then put her arms around his neck and held him tightly for a brief moment. She kissed his cheek quickly, then stepped back and took his sword from him. Then she simply looked at him, her eyes full of the anguish he supposed she was seeing on his face. He took a deep breath, then looked at Robin, who had propped his sword up against a stone seat. Robin only nodded at the twins.
“See Mistress Peaches inside, lads, and introduce her to the lady Anne. Remember that she’s Persephone’s sister, though I’m not sure how you could forget. We’ll join you in my solar in a bit.”
The lads made polite conversation with Peaches as they started to lead her off. She looked over her shoulder only once. Stephen looked at her, because he simply couldn’t manage anything more than that. He waited until he couldn’t see her any longer before he turned to Robin.
“I’m ready.”
“Do you do this in your day?”
“Actually, I do.”
“You probably get the urge from me,” Robin said seriously. “Don’t let yourself go to fat, lad, there in that soft life of yours. Running will keep your wits sharp and your body strong. And it is very useful in stopping yourself from doing something stupid until your head has cleared.”
Stephen had to agree that was very good advice, but he did so silently. He also ran with Robin around the perimeter of the lists until he thought he would either pass out from exhaustion or manage to speak without weeping. It was at that precise moment that Robin stopped, leaned over with his hands on his thighs for a moment until he caught his breath, then straightened and looked at Stephen.
“I used to be able to run farther,” he said with a grimace.
“Well, you’ve run me into the ground.”
“You’re soft,” Robin said, clapping him on the shoulder. He looked at him gravely. “And you’re now lord of Artane, my lad. All the more reason to save it for your sons, wouldn’t you agree?”
Stephen nodded wearily. “I do agree.”
“I take it your lady has brought you tidings pertinent to your business?”
“She has,” Stephen said, “in spite of the fact that I told her to stay home.”
Robin patted him on the back and smiled pleasantly. “That’s the sort of wench to have, if you ask me. But never let them forget who is lord.” He paused. “I will admit after all these years that that is slightly more difficult than I anticipated it would be.”
Stephen didn’t doubt it. He walked with Robin back to the house, contemplating the absolute improbability that he was now on equal if not rather uncomfortable footing with the man next to him. It was a pity that had to come at the expense of his father’s life.
He had a wash, then found himself escorted to the lord’s solar where the door opened for him. He went inside, not exactly sure what he would find.
Peaches was sitting there next to the hearth with the firelight playing against her dark hair. She looked up at him.
And she smiled gravely.
He shut the door with his foot, then strode over to her and pull
ed her up and into his arms. He found that it was quite some time before he even dared attempt speech. He wasn’t one to weep, indeed he couldn’t remember the last time he’d indulged in tears, but he was damned close to it at present. But since grief was nothing more than a distraction from the task before him, he settled for a handful of careful breaths before he finally loosened his embrace and looked at Peaches.
“Where are the lord and lady of the house?” he asked, ignoring the hoarseness he could hear in his own voice.
“Off seeing to supper,” Peaches said, “though I imagine that was just an excuse to give us privacy.” She looked up at him. “They’re very kind to loan us their solar.”
“It beats the bloody hell out of the dungeon,” Stephen said with feeling.
She smiled a half smile. “I imagine it does.” She pulled away but kept hold of his hand. “Come sit by the fire, my lord. Your hands are cold.”
He made himself at home in a chair he wasn’t sure didn’t currently find itself in a glass case on the second floor in modern Artane, then pulled Peaches down onto his lap. He held her in front of that roaring fire for several minutes in silence except for the crackling and popping of the wood in the hearth. When he thought he could manage it, he sighed deeply.
“What a day,” he managed.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. “Stephen, I’m sorry about your father.”
He smoothed his hand over her hair, carefully avoiding any tangles. “How is my mother?”
“Devastated, as you might expect.” She shrugged slightly. “Gideon and Megan are there, along with Zachary and Mary. Of course they knew where you had gone, and Zachary sent me along after you.”
“I’ll kill him.”
“He gave me a very long lecture beforehand, which I think he thought would deter me,” she continued, shooting him a chiding look. “I told your mother I was going to look for you, that I was fairly sure where you’d gone.” She paused. “She would, I’m sure, prefer to see you sooner rather than later.”
“I’d rather it be sooner, to tell the truth.” He took a deep breath. “Tell me why I shouldn’t go back home and kill Preston right now.”
“Because they’ll throw you in jail for murder,” Peaches said reasonably.
“I could lure him back to another century, then kill him,” Stephen muttered, half under his breath.
She smiled very faintly. “James MacLeod most definitely wouldn’t approve.”
“I wouldn’t tell him.”
“He would know.”
He dragged his free hand through his hair. “Unfortunately, I imagine he likely would. So, what did you discover? I take it you read what I’d read.”
“That, and I spent some time in your father’s library. The nineteenth Earl of Artane, Reginald, was a bit of a gambler.”
“Wonderful,” Stephen said heavily. “So, you think he might have bet the farm and lost it?”
She shrugged helplessly. “It’s only a guess, but the situation with the Prestons makes me wonder if Reggie might be our man. His contemporary, Lionel, died while his son was a baby, leaving his brother in charge for some time. The son eventually grew up and took the title, but it makes me wonder if with all that time with the keys to the cabinet, as it were, Uncle Piers managed to appropriate a few things he thought might not be missed. He died shortly after turning over things to his nephew, leaving his heirs perhaps not knowing what they had hidden in his effects.”
“Which would explain why Andrea’s father had the deed,” Stephen said with a deep sigh.
“That’s what I was thinking.” She paused. “It’s just a hunch.”
Stephen imagined it was a very good hunch, one that he would willingly follow, even if it meant wearing heels and short pants.
“And I’m not sure how we can change things,” she continued, “without changing too much.”
“Perhaps we could just change the outcome of the game and leave everything else alone,” he said thoughtfully.
She nodded. “I suppose so.”
“Was it cards or swords?”
“Cards,” she said, “I think.”
“Thank heavens,” he said with feeling. “At least it wasn’t pistols at dawn.”
Peaches frowned at him. “Have you ever played poker, Stephen?”
“How do you think I began my collection of first editions whilst at Eton?” he asked archly.
She smiled. “With ill-gotten gains?”
“They were very well gotten, darling, though I never thought the skill would come in handy after school.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I should have brought something on the history of card games and betting during the early nineteenth century.”
He looked up to find her holding out a book to him. He took it, read the title, then looked at her and smiled.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m still going to shout at you for coming back here.”
“No, you’re not,” she said, sounding not at all intimidated. “Well, I suppose you can try, but I won’t be standing there to listen.”
He imagined she wouldn’t be. He sighed. “I want you to go home.”
“I’m sure you do.”
He smoothed her hair back from her face. “I truly do not want you coming with me, love,” he said quietly, “though I suppose that is safer than trying to send you home by yourself.”
“I think so,” she agreed. “And for all you know, you might need me there.”
“I certainly hope not,” he said, “and that isn’t because I don’t want you near me.” He shook his head and swore briefly. “This is the very last time we do this. The stress is about to do me in.”
“Don’t let it,” she said very quietly.
He gathered her close again and simply held her until he felt his heart begin to beat less fiercely and the tension had left her. He rubbed his hand over her back absently.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For coming to tell me. I know that isn’t the only reason, but if it had to be told, I would rather have heard it from you.” He paused. “I’m sorry not to be there for my mother.”
“You couldn’t have known, which she understands. Kendrick was on his way when I left, so I imagine he and Gideon will keep her busy enough until you get home.”
He considered for a moment or two. “Should I tell her the truth?”
“That you traipsed through time to save your hall?” she asked, lifting her head to look at him. “It might make her feel better, and I don’t think it will surprise her. When I told her I was going off to find you, she gave me a look.”
“What sort of look?”
“The look a woman gives another woman when she knows the second woman is lying. She also promised me she would hold it together until you were home and told me to tell you as much.”
He smiled in spite of himself. “Then we’ll hurry.”
“Do you think it’s possible to land in the right time?”
“If we’re going to be wearing Regency gear, we had better hope so.” He leaned forward and kissed her softly. “You look tired. Beautiful, but tired. Let me feed you and we’ll at least sleep for a few hours before we press on. I think I would like an hour or so to beat some details out of those blond-headed twins.”
She smiled. “Think they bought us lunch?”
“I know they bought us lunch, which means they gave us that map, which means they’ve been poking around in their father’s things and learning all kinds of un-medieval details. I believe I should tell them that following in their uncle John’s footsteps would be ill-advised.”
“Because he’s unhappy?” she asked gravely.
“Because the thought of two medieval teenagers on the road in modern-day England is terrifying,” he said with a snort. “John is tremendously happy which would only add to the allure of a century those brats don’t belong in. As for us, let’s go find our hosts and see if we can beg dinner.”
&nbs
p; She rose, then looked at him gravely. “I’m so sorry, Stephen, about it all.”
He sighed deeply and pulled her close again. “I won’t commit murder, but if I can find a way to humiliate that—” He had to take a deep breath. “The illustrious Duke of Kenneworth will think twice about opening his bloody big mouth again.”
“One could hope,” she said quietly.
He kissed her forehead, because it was safer that way, then put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her with him to go find the current lord and ask for something to eat.
Chapter 27
Peaches sat at the lord’s table in the great hall of Artane and looked up at the ceiling. It was the same hall she’d walked through a dozen times when she’d been mourning over her sister, then when she’d come to Artane to look for Stephen. That she should be sitting in the medieval incarnation of it, next to its future lord, should not have been all that strange.
Though she had to admit it was.
She looked at Stephen, who was sitting next to her simply leaning back in his chair and watching her with a small smile.
“What?” she asked.
He only shook his head. “I’m just happy to have you here.”
“Are you?”
“In spite of everything, yes, I am.”
Robin leaned around his wife and looked at them. “And I’m happy to have you both here.”
Peaches looked at him, feeling slightly puzzled over that. She could imagine why he would want to see Stephen, but she had no claim on anything that belonged to either the keep or him. He was looking at her, however, with a serious twinkle in his eye. She had heard from Mary in casual conversation one long afternoon spent walking on the beach that her father had been a terrible tease. Peaches couldn’t imagine what he had to tease either her or Stephen about, but judging by the look in his eye, he’d found something.
“We appreciate your hospitality,” Stephen said, looking at Robin with an expression Peaches understood completely. “How lovely of you to entertain us.”
“Entertainment,” Robin said, snapping his fingers as if he’d just remembered something he’d forgotten. “Or, even more interesting, nuptials.”