One Enchanted Evening

by Lynn Kurland

  “You couldn’t impress her with the holes in your own walls?” Kendrick asked, his eyes twinkling. “You had to bring her centuries into the future and show her what a real castle looks like?”

  Montgomery looked at him narrowly. “You know, there was a time when I could thrash you whilst scarce suppressing my yawns.”

  Pippa found herself the recipient of Kendrick’s wink. “Ah, but I don’t imagine you’ll have that same success now. Wouldn’t you agree, Mistress Persephone?”

  “It’s Pippa,” Pippa said, “and I’m not sure I should be offering any opinions. I don’t want to get between the two of you and your swords.”

  “A pity he doesn’t have his blade,” Kendrick said, looking at Montgomery with raised eyebrows, “else we might settle the question once and for all.”

  “ ’ Tis in the car,” Montgomery growled.

  “Then go fetch it, lad.”

  Montgomery made a noise of disgust, then looked at Pippa. “What is that mystical force your sisters spoke of?”

  “Karma?”

  “Aye, that,” he said, pursing his lips. “I believe Karma has come back to haunt me.”

  “Or bite you in the arse, rather,” Kendrick said. “What horrible thing did you do to deserve it? Oh, wait, perhaps it was the abuse you heaped upon me in my youth.”

  “I spoiled you beyond reason,” Montgomery said shortly, “to my eternal shame. ’Twas obviously poorly done, judging by the results.”

  Kendrick only laughed, then looked over his shoulder. “Here come my lads. Pretend you weren’t born in 1214, won’t you? Then let’s be off to do a bit of true manly labor outside. I can see already that you’ve gone soft during your sojourn in a century not your own.”

  “I’ll humor you in the lists,” Montgomery said evenly, “after I’ve had something to eat and brought in my lady’s gear.”

  Kendrick looked at him, grinned again, then walked off making chicken noises. Pippa laughed, then looked at Montgomery.

  “What did you do to him?”

  “Nothing, so far,” Montgomery said darkly. “But I believe I’ll spend my energies making up for that if I have the chance.”

  Pippa smiled, though she felt slightly sick to her stomach. If he had the chance—

  And the answer to that, she realized with a start, might just come from Kendrick de Piaget. She watched him gather up five boys, including a set of triplets who looked to be about thirteen, and shepherd them over to meet their long-lost cousin. The boys looked suitably impressed, Montgomery was his usual charming self, and she had to clutch the edge of the lord’s table she was leaning against to keep herself from sidling over to Kendrick to ask him a few pointed questions. The time was definitely not right.

  Montgomery finally extricated himself from questions she could tell he didn’t particularly want to answer, then came back to stand beside her.

  “Let’s go fetch our gear,” he said in French. “You can hold me whilst I fall to pieces.” He nodded to Megan and Gideon. “If you’ll excuse us? We’ll return posthaste.” He looked at Megan. “I have stories for you, my lady.”

  “I’d love to have them.”

  He squeezed Pippa’s hand. “Shall we?”

  She nodded and walked with him thorough the hall and down the stairs to the courtyard. She waited for him to get whatever it was he had in his system out of his system before she elbowed him in the ribs. She supposed she hadn’t waited as long as she could have, but she was dying of curiosity.

  “Well?”

  He stopped, turned, and pulled her into his arms. “I’m wondering what other surprises your Karma has for me—”

  “Don’t,” she said quickly. “Don’t even ask. The list could be endless and very painful.”

  He closed his eyes briefly. “I hope the revelations have ended. I’m not sure I will survive any more.”

  Pippa had to close her eyes and rest her head against his shoulder. She wasn’t sure she could survive any more, either, but there was at least one more thing he had to know before . . . well, before he decided what path he would take through the future. What if he decided that he wanted to go back without her and he was killed because she wasn’t there to help him? What if she went back with him, he died just the same, and she lived and died in some hovel because Gunnild and her evil children kicked her out of the keep?

  Or worst of all, what if she went back with him, he was wounded beyond all aid, and he sent her away?

  “You’re trembling.”

  “I’m cold,” she lied. “We’re standing in the shade.”

  “Pippa, ’tis noon.”

  “It’s cloudy then,” she said, which was something that stood the best chance of being true. “And I need some chocolate. You could go get our stuff and I could hit the gift shop and get us some.” And look through a few books for details I’m dying for.

  “I think I would be better off keeping you close,” he said, wrapping his arms more securely around her. He bent his head and kissed her cheek. “How else am I to woo you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she managed. “Showing off for me in the lists might be a pretty good start.”

  He laughed a bit, then pulled away. “And it will soothe my bruised ego as well.” He shook his head. “That Kendrick. He was trouble from the moment he was born.”

  “I think his five sons have been payback,” she said. “He seems to be pretty happy about it anyway. I can hardly wait to meet his wife.”

  “I can scarce wait to find out how it is he’s been here in the future long enough to sire so many children,” Montgomery said. “There’s a tale there, and we’ll have it at our earliest convenience. But our gear, first, so I’ll have something to use on him in the lists.”

  Pippa walked alongside him down the cobblestone path to the gates and came to a quick decision. Until she could verify what she’d read in a book that had been written over seven hundred years after the fact, she wasn’t going to get her knickers all in a twist. She would enjoy the fact that she had Montgomery and tasty snacks all in the same century, let him woo her all he liked, and enjoy the chance to roam over his boyhood haunts with him. She would tell Megan de Piaget everything she could remember about her very brief visit with her sister Jennifer, happily listen to Montgomery relate all the stories he could, then see if she couldn’t talk Stephen into bringing her sisters up for a little visit as well.

  And when the opportunity presented itself, she would sneak over to the gift shop, hope it was open for visitors more than once a month, and see what she could find out in what she was sure was a big genealogical section. If worst came to worst, she would beg Gideon for some computer time and see what a quick search produced.

  And she would hope Gideon wouldn’t go along behind her and look at the things she was searching for.

  But until then, she would enjoy every minute she had with a man who was currently standing five feet from his nephew’s car, playing with the remote locks just because he could.

  He looked at her. “Marvelous.”

  She laughed and put her arms around his neck. “You’re adorable.”

  He put the keys in his pocket. “My sword can wait; let’s examine that sentiment a bit more closely, shall we?”

  She supposed along with all those other things she would allow herself to enjoy, she might as well add Montgomery de Piaget’s most excellent kisses to the list.

  While she had the chance.

  Chapter 27

  Montgomery bounded down Artane’s stairs at dawn, just as he’d done for almost a score of years, not just ready but eager to be out in the lists perfecting his swordplay. After all, his most cherished dream had been to be the same sort of honorable and skilled knight his father and brothers had been.

  Only now, he realized there was so much more to it than just the ability to wield a sword.

  He shook his head as he walked across the great hall and turned for the kitchens. He supposed he had realized that several years earlier; he simply had
n’t had the opportunity to ply his chivalry on a woman he loved. He could scarce wait until she awoke so he could begin again for the day.

  But until that happy time, he would quite happily pass an hour or two working on his swordplay. He walked down the passageway and into the kitchens to find Kendrick and his sons already there tucking into a hearty breakfast. He sat down in the proffered chair, then helped himself to what they were having. There was little talk, but that was to be expected when the lads in question were busy filling their bellies.

  Some things never changed.

  What had changed was the fact that he was looking at his nephew, who was no longer a babe of almost eleven summers but a man of two score and a bit with his own eleven-year-old babe, who was younger than his elder triplet brothers. Robin would have been greatly pleased to see such strapping grand-sons; a pity he would never meet them. Montgomery shook his head, fully willing to admit that the thought of how the twists and turns of time had left Kendrick with such a family was enough to give him pains in the head.

  As was Kendrick’s tale. Kendrick had sat with him in the lord’s solar, courtesy of Edward, the current Earl of Artane, into the wee hours, giving him details Montgomery hadn’t had to assure his nephew he would carry to his own grave. The tale was so fantastical Montgomery could scarce believe it, but apart from the fact that Kendrick never lied, the proof had been sitting there across from him. And given his own adventures with things he’d never expected, he could see how it was all too possible.

  He looked up from his quite tasty porridge to find Kendrick’s three eldest watching him with identical looks of curiosity. They looked so much like their father in his youth, Montgomery almost choked.

  “They’re frightening me,” Montgomery said to his nephew.

  One of the triplets looked at his father. “His French is as good as yours.”

  Montgomery noted that the boy’s French was quite excellent as well.

  “He’s a bright lad,” Kendrick said dismissively, applying himself to his meal.

  “He looks like you, Father,” said yet another of the eldest three. “Uncannily so.”

  “Good genes,” Kendrick agreed.

  “Didn’t you have an uncle named Montgomery?” the third one said, then he gulped at the look his father shot him. He glanced at Montgomery briefly again, then bent his head and concentrated on his porridge.

  Montgomery looked at Kendrick, had a wink as his reward, then decided the boys had the best idea. He finished his meal, thanked the cook, who seemed unaffected by the fact that there was a small collection of swords propped up in the corner, then watched Kendrick’s five sons scamper back up to the great hall, boasts of their exceptional swordplay ringing in the air. Montgomery looked at his nephew.

  “They’re much like you were.”

  Kendrick smiled smugly. “You expected something else?”

  “Actually, I’m just curious to see if you did anything with your time in your youth I have yet to experience besides investigate things you should rather have left alone.”

  “You’ll have ample time to see and admire this morning.”

  Montgomery snorted. “By the saints, Kendrick, you couldn’t be any more like your father, something he would consider to be the highest of compliments.”

  Kendrick hesitated in mid-step, then stopped suddenly and turned to him. “Speaking of my father, I will confess that I didn’t tell you all last night.”

  Montgomery shrugged. “You weren’t obligated to.”

  “Nay, this is something you should know.” He shrugged, though he looked slightly less than casual. “Jake knows everything.”

  Montgomery felt his mouth fall open. “Jake Kilchurn? How in the world would he know any of this?”

  “Because he’s from the Future of course,” Kendrick said, his mouth twitching. “Come now, Montgomery. You don’t still believe he’s a faery, do you?”

  Montgomery suppressed the urge to hit him. “I’ve outgrown that, thank you very much.”

  Kendrick shrugged, but his eyes were twinkling madly. “I had to ask. Anyway, so you don’t worry yourself into a stupor, I asked Jake to tell Father what befell me—after the fact, of course, lest he change history. Both he and Mother will know the truth. Jake will leave the rest of you to suffer, of course, at my behest.”

  Montgomery shoved him before he could stop himself. “You obnoxious brat.”

  Kendrick only laughed and continued on his way. “I’ve been perfecting that character trait for years, you know.”

  “You had perfected it by the age of eight, believe me.”

  “And only added to the misery of it for you by my superior swordplay.” He looked over his shoulder. “Come along, Uncle, and let me school you in a few things you didn’t teach me.”

  Montgomery shook his head in admiration of Kendrick’s cheek, something he had definitely learned at his father’s knee and apparently indeed nurtured by himself into an arrogance that was truly disgusting.

  He walked through the hall, loped down the steps, and headed for the lists as if nothing had changed—but it had. He was wearing sweats and trainers, he had the luxury of a very fast car awaiting him outside the gates, and he’d been offered the sight of a football match on the telly that evening if he promised to leave all sharp implements outside the door where he wouldn’t destroy Lord Edward’s solar in his surprise and terror.

  Kendrick’s words, not his.

  Kendrick tossed away the sheath to his sword. “I promise to leave a bit of you left for Pippa to rub horse liniment into this afternoon.”

  “Good of you,” Montgomery said sourly.

  Kendrick only laughed and raised his sword.

  The sun was at its zenith before he looked closely at his nephew to see if Kendrick was as ready as he to be finished for the day. Given that Kendrick was peering at him in like manner, there was no shame in leaving the battle for another day. Montgomery exchanged a few final insults with a man Robin would have been terribly proud of, then looked over to find Pippa sitting on a bench pushed up against the wall, gaping at him.

  “Has she never seen you with a sword in your hands?” Kendrick asked with mock horror. “What, too busy plying your lute to pick up a bit of steel?”

  “Shut up.”

  Kendrick only laughed and went to gather up his sons. Montgomery had already worked each of them for a brief time that morning, so he felt no guilt in concentrating on his most important task, which was wooing the woman who was looking at him as if she’d never seen him before. He walked over to her, then dropped down onto the bench next to her, trying not to drip sweat on her. He dragged his arm across his forehead, then looked at her.

  “What is it?”

  She only gestured toward the field. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out.

  He frowned. “Did I fight poorly?”

  “Good heavens, Montgomery,” she managed. “I’ve never seen you fight like that at all.”

  “I would say that I hadn’t wanted to terrify my garrison,” he said, “but then I would sound like my eldest brother, which I simply couldn’t bear.”

  She leaned back against the wall and smiled faintly. “Is Kendrick like Robin?”

  “Exactly like him,” Montgomery said without hesitation.

  “I’m not sure how his wife bears him, but then again, I’m not sure how Anne tolerates Robin, so I am perhaps not the one to be offering an opinion.”

  And he wasn’t. He had had the pleasure of meeting Kendrick’s wife, Genevieve, and their daughter, Adelaide Anne, the afternoon before, offering her his condolences over being trapped with his nephew for the rest of her life, then paid for his comments in the lists just as he’d known he would.

  Some things never changed.

  “She seems very happy,” Pippa offered. “Genevieve, I mean. And her French is very good.”

  “So is yours, my love,” he said, reaching for her hand and kissing it. “I have to wonder, however, if the comforts of the Future soft
en the blow of having to live with a medieval blowhard.”

  Pippa laughed. “I don’t think that’s it.”

  “Then are you telling me the men in my family are tolerable?” he asked.

  She squeezed his hand. “You know I am.”

  He looked at her hand in his for a moment or two, then met her eyes. “Let me clean up, then why don’t we go for a walk along the strand?”

  “Wouldn’t you rather go for a drive?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

  “We’ll do that tomorrow. Today, I want to focus all my energies on you.”

  “Heaven help me.”

  He laughed and rose, then pulled her to her feet. “Maybe a small journey in the car first,” he conceded. “To that chippy in the village. I concentrate better when I’m not hungry.”

  “I’m afraid, my lord, that you’re becoming far too accustomed to fast food.”

  He agreed, then walked with her back to the keep. Though it was a delicious luxury to simply be in a time that wasn’t his own, without responsibilities, without impossible tangles to unravel, he knew he couldn’t avoid forever the subject that stood between him and Pippa.

  He waited until they were standing outside the hall doors before he stopped. “I think,” he began slowly, “that we should discuss a thing or two.”

  She looked rather less comfortable than he would have liked. “That sounds serious.”

  “I think proposals often are.”

  Her mouth fell open. “What?”

  “I’m doing this badly,” he said with a wince. “Let me try again. Will you, Persephone, come to the shore with me today and allow me to kiss you as often as I wish? I could woo you with chocolate, if you’d rather.”

  “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “that’s a difficult choice.”

  He laughed a bit, because he could see she was teasing him. He reached out and tucked an errant curl behind her ear.

  “You decide what your perfect day might contain and I’ll do my best to fit it all into this afternoon. Then I think we should perhaps retreat somewhere quiet and discuss what our perfect future might contain.” He hesitated, then cast caution to the wind. “And where that future might be carried out.”