Through The Leaded Glass

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Through The Leaded Glass Page 2

by Fennell, Judi


  Kate crossed the “gangplank,” passing a “pirate” the size of a refrigerator who would have had no trouble making someone walk the plank. Sawdust and leather tickled her nose as she headed toward the bow where a thin, bald man shuffled some items on a gnarled wood table. He turned at her approach, smoothing a silver shirt down over purple pants and did the bowing bit everyone here was so fond of.

  “Good day, m’ lady.” A smile lit his lined face as he tied a purple bandana over his head. “I am Master Griff. What can I get for you?”

  Another “m’ lady.” Kate stifled a snort. And what was with all the purple? Official faire colors? “Hello, Master Griff.”

  His weathered skin, with the deep creases at his mouth, looked as if he really had spent time on the open sea. The glasses he wore could only be called spectacles, but the astonishing green eyes that twinkled behind those spectacles were completely out of character, glittering as if they held the knowledge of the ages.

  “I’ll bet you want a special item and I have just the thing.” His gaze raked her from head to toe, stopping on her new ring. “Yes, just the thing.”

  He took a shield from one of the bins behind him. A dented, tarnished shield, faintly etched around the perimeter with cloudy glass jewels barely fastened to the surface. The leather straps on the back had seen better days.

  “I was thinking of something in better condition,” Kate said. Did she look like she had Sucker written across her forehead?

  “I’m sure you were. But—” He jerked his head and lowered his voice, reeling her in as if he were about to share the secrets of the universe with her. “Then you wouldn’t have something special. You’d have just another common shield. This has some character. It has—” His gaze darted around the dim interior of the ship as he whispered—”a history.”

  Of course it did. “Really.”

  He leaned in closer, his voice lower. “This was a nobleman’s ceremonial shield. The etchings were inlaid with gold and it was covered in sapphires and rubies.” He slid the shield across the table, dust bunnies leaping like lemmings over the edge.

  “Legend says that on the day the nobleman was to propose to his second wife, the family betrothal ring was stolen.” He ran a finger along the shield’s rough edge, his watch band scraping on the metal.

  Oh sure, he got to wear his watch.

  “The ring was the family’s good luck charm, and from the moment it went missing, it was the beginning of the end for the poor man.” Master Griff rubbed his chin. “There was a jousting tournament that day. The man competed. He’d always led a charmed life...”

  “And?” Kate leaned her hip against the table and crossed her arms, her new ring snagging on a loose thread.

  “Well, the nobleman didn’t believe all that nonsense about the ring being a good luck charm, so even though it’d been stolen, he went ahead with the joust. ‘Course he’d never lost before, so he wasn’t worried at all.”

  “Let me guess. He lost.”

  Master Griff’s smile disappeared. “Yes. To his sworn enemy. And not only was he defeated, but gravely injured as well.”

  “Then what?” Despite herself, Kate wanted to know where this was leading. The guy was good.

  “His injuries ended his jousting career and his ability to defend the king.”

  “But why lose everything just because he couldn’t joust anymore? If he was a nobleman, he should’ve had lands and other means of income.”

  “Ah.” Master Griff wagged his finger in her face. “I said he didn’t believe the legend, but his people and the lady he planned to marry did. When the ring went missing, she knew the good fortune was over and distanced herself from him.” He sighed. “When that happened, others saw the beginning of the end and abandoned him as well.”

  “Like rats leaving a sinking ship.”

  Master Griff nodded. “And so, with rumors abounding, they shunned him and his people. The coffers ran dry, supplies low, and, as a final blow, his young son was found murdered within the castle walls. The man was left alone, without income, save a few possessions.” Master Griff pointed to the shield. “One that you see before you, much the worse for wear.”

  Kate tapped her lips. She’d bet the twenty bucks this thing cost that there was an identical one beneath the counter, but what the hell. Alicia loved stuff like this and she’d get a kick out of the story.

  She smiled. “I’ll take it. If the shield isn’t worth your price, the story certainly is.”

  “And now you have a very special item. One no one else has.”

  “And no one probably wants, judging from the looks of it,” she added as she handed over the cash. How many times a day did he tell this same story?

  “Oh, trust me, there’s not another one like it anywhere.” He patted her hand. “Have a wonderful adventure here today. And be sure to visit the glass blower’s shop. It’s on your way to the joust.”

  Kate slid her arm through the leather straps as she left the ship, praying they’d hold together for the rest of the day, but she wasn’t holding out much hope.

  She felt the heat from the glass blower’s ovens before she saw the shop, but the tinkling butterfly wind chimes were what got her to stop. They’d look pretty outside Emma’s bedroom window.

  She followed the cobblestone pathway lined with garden sculptures past the Enchanted Forest Gifts sign. A fountain gurgled beneath pergolas overflowing with flowering vines, silk butterflies, and twisting iridescent glass objects, like something you’d find in a fairy forest. Unfortunately the sounds of an airplane overhead and the trucks rumbling by on the Pennsylvania Turnpike just beyond the faire walls stole a little of the magic.

  Lord. Now she was sounding like Alicia.

  An alcove held more glass objects amid scented sachets, potpourri, and candles. She ran a finger lightly over a delicate blown-glass tulip’s petals that appeared to be covered in dew, and a ceramic frog peeked out from under a bundle of cinnamon sticks beside a green-horned glass unicorn.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of purple and silver as someone darted out from behind a statue at the end of the shop.

  Had Master Griff followed her?

  She went after him, peering around the corner where he’d run, but what she saw there stopped her cold.

  A two-foot tall stained glass window, arched like something from a gothic church, leaned against the wall, with a design…

  It was a picture of a woman. A woman with long auburn curls, and a green and burgundy dress just like she was wearing.

  Exactly like she was wearing.

  Kate walked toward the window. She wasn’t a fan of coincidences, so either Alicia had had this outfit specially made or—

  Or what? Kate shook her head. This place was getting to her, what with tales of magical rings and fairy forests.

  But then a fairy did approach her. Or, rather, a teenager dressed as a fairy. Which was so much more normal than the road she’d started going down, thankfully.

  “May I help you, my lady?” asked the sales clerk.

  “That.” Kate ignored the “my lady” and handed her some cash. “I’d like to buy it.” Well, not really like to buy it; more like compelled to. She wanted to get to the bottom of the coincidence.

  “Okay,” said the clerk. “I’ll be right back with some tissue paper to wrap it up.”

  Kate nodded absently, her attention caught by the vibrant colors of the piece. The green was so brilliant it looked like what the emerald on her ring ought to, and the woman’s auburn hair gleamed like sherry when the sun hit it. The resemblance was amazing.

  Kate brushed the long sleeves of her surcoat up her arms, hiked the shield higher, and reached for the window.

  All of a sudden, the air around her stilled.

  Then it began to shimmer.

  Then, with a heart-thudding whoosh, it spiraled around her like a cocoon, blocking out every sound but her heartbeat. A brilliant burst of color whirled around her like a tornado, her wo
rld tilted, and…

  …she started to fall.

  Chapter Two

  Kate did a two-step to keep her balance, shook her head, and turned around. Then back again. How had she gotten outside the shop?

  With the stained glass window in her arms?

  Kate shook her head. This was weird. Odd. Strange. And the whirling sensation in her head wasn’t helping any. She probably shouldn’t have skipped breakfast this morning.

  She hiked the window beneath her arm. She needed something to eat before she passed out. Let the clerk keep the change, she needed to find food and Alicia. In that order.

  The heralds started trumpeting the moment she stepped out of the shop, and the street became crowded with a teeming mass of humanity all headed in one direction, dragging Kate along with it. Oh well, at least the crêpe shop was this way.

  Then a woman with the most amazing shade of tangerine hair bumped into her, almost knocking the window out of her arms.

  Kate scrambled to keep it from crashing to the ground while the woman just gave her an uptight little sniff and looked down her nose at her.

  The lady-in-waiting beside her did the same thing.

  Kate raised an eyebrow, waiting for an apology.

  Which didn’t come.

  Instead, the woman raked her gaze over Kate while smoothing a hand over her own velvet dress that was covered in every colored gemstone there was, with enough silver braiding to ring a castle twice.

  Velvet in this weather? No wonder the woman looked like she’d sucked on a lemon.

  Yeah, that apology wasn’t going to happen.

  But then Velvet Woman looked at the window and was suddenly all smiles—which was actually worse since she could use some serious dental work. She should have spent her money on a trip to a periodontist instead of that dress. Wacko.

  As the crowd surged, Kate lost sight of the woman and her maid because they blended in with everyone else. Not one person was in normal dress. And the smell… This was a special “Members Only” opening Friday; she would’ve hoped that they would’ve washed their costumes since last season.

  The crowd bypassed the food stands, instead flowing into the jousting arena where people in the wooden stands waved colorful flags and cheered as the actors rode in on horseback beneath a blue banner. Ah, that’s where she’d find Alicia. It figured that it was on the opposite side of the arena.

  Kate worked her way to the edge of the crowd, then ducked beneath the seating area scaffold, a more direct route than trying to shove her way through the throng. And she obviously wasn’t the only one to think so. The path beneath the scaffolding was littered with discarded wooden cups, scraps of fabric, and crumpled little flags.

  She followed the path out to a small hill overlooking the staging area that was dotted with horses and the actors’ dressing room tents. Some were non-descript; others had fringed awnings with heraldic crests emblazoned on all sides. It was pretty, almost like something from a painting, but she didn’t have time to admire the scenery. She needed to find Alicia and grab a seat so she could put these bulky things down. She should have bought them on her way out of the faire.

  She looked for the quickest path to their rendezvous point. There had to be one since the actors had used it, but where there’d been signage galore in other parts of the faire, there wasn’t any now. If this were her account, she’d—

  Kate laughed at herself. Even on her day off she was thinking of work. Apparently, you could take the woman out of the boardroom, but you couldn’t take the boardroom out of the woman. And, boy, was the boardroom where she wanted to be right now, not lost in some re-created English village.

  Luckily, a member of said village crested the hill just then, a bridle in hand.

  “Excuse me,” Kate said, realizing the “guy” was little more than a boy. They sure started them young.

  The kid slammed to a halt. “My lady?”

  Okay, this was getting old. Kate exhaled. “I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find—”

  “Aye. M’lord is in yon tent. I’m off to bring him a new bridle. By your leave, my lady.” The kid bobbed his head and ran off.

  Yon tent. The medieval equivalent of an information booth? These re-enactors sure liked to be authentic.

  She hiked the window beneath her arm, then looked at a pile of rocks ringing a tree. An opening between them looked just big enough to hold it, and keep it safe and hidden.

  After checking to see that no one was watching, Kate made an executive decision and slid the window into the niche. One less thing to carry and she wouldn’t have to worry about it getting damaged in the arena. She’d grab it on her way back.

  She walked to the blue tent, then stopped. What was the protocol? Did one knock? Clear her throat? Yell, “Ahoy, the tent”?

  “Come on, Nick,” said a male voice. “I’ve a joust to see to and a woman to woo.”

  Finally. Someone who—

  The tent flap smacked her in the arm, knocking her sideways. Great. Perfect. Lost and injured.

  Then bruised as someone grabbed her arms before she hit the ground and yanked her upright.

  Arms covered in armor.

  “My pardon, my lady.”

  She looked up. Yeah, she’d take his pardon—and a lot more. The guy was gorgeous. Black hair pulled into a ponytail, a set of cheekbones and jaw that looked as if some master sculpture had carved them, blue eyes that matched the almost turquoise tunic beneath more armor, and a mouth that was specifically designed for kissing.

  Well, hello.

  “My lady?” he said, and this time, Kate had no argument with the term. “You are unharmed?”

  Yes, but if he wanted to kiss her and make everything all better—

  God, woman. Get a grip. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t around male models with her job on a regular basis. He was just another good-looking guy.

  Times ten.

  “I’m fine. Thanks for the, um, catch.” She shook her head and pulled out of his arms. “So who are you supposed to be? Sir Galahad? Or just any ol’ knight in shining armor rescuing damsels in distress?” Not that she needed rescuing, but if she did, he’d be the one for the job.

  “Galahad? Surely you jest.”

  “Oh. My mistake. Arthur?”

  He just raised an eyebrow.

  Not into Arthurian legend then. Who knew re-enactors could be so fickle?

  Another man, red-headed and as big as the first, pushed through the tent flaps, his hand on the hilt of a sword—which was more than just a little disturbing.

  “Ah, yes,” he said with a darn good English accent. “Just what you need. A fair maiden to sway your mind from Isobel.”

  “Nick, you are drunk,” said the first man. Alex.

  “And, you, Alex, are a fool.” Nick gripped the hilt, sliding it a few inches from the scabbard.

  Okay, the testosterone and alcohol were obviously flying and she should be going. She brushed her fingers through her hair. “Um, never mind, guys, but thanks—”

  Alex grabbed her hand. “I won’t pay you.”

  “I don’t recall asking you to.”

  “Good. Because I’d sooner see your pretty head removed from your shoulders.”

  Okay, then… She wrenched her hand back. “Look, buddy, I don’t know what you’re talking about, so if you’ll excuse me, I seem to be at the wrong tent.”

  His eyebrow arched and he took another step into her personal space. “You want me to believe you’re innocent?”

  Great. Another wacko. Kate backed up, ready to make a run for it.

  Nice plan, bad execution. She winced at the pun as the red-haired man ran behind her at her first step, zipping the sword from the scabbard to tap it against his palm.

  She didn’t know what she’d stumbled into, but she wanted out. Big time.

  Taking a deep breath and praying her twenty bucks was well spent, Kate hefted the shield in front of her.

  Alex’s laugh was not the response she’
d been hoping for, but, yeah, the thing was in pretty bad shape.

  “The shield, too? You’re foolish to have brought them with you.”

  The other guy sheathed his sword, but he then wrapped a meaty paw around her arm. “Well, Alex, ‘twould seem we’ve found your villain...ess. Now you can thrash Farley in the lists without a worry. What do you want me to do with her?”

  Kate wasn’t waiting around for that answer. She twisted, trying to pull her arm free, but Nick was too strong. “Look, there’s obviously been some mistake. I’ll just be on my way. My friend’s waiting for me.”

  Alex held up his hand. “Your friend can wait. I demand an explanation.” He nodded at the other guy. “Nick.”

  Next thing she knew, she was being manhandled into the tent.

  So not good. She’d taken a survival class after her divorce—personal defense, CPR, wilderness living, that sort of thing—and knew going with an attacker was not conducive to survival. Especially a huge, drunk attacker.

  She opened her mouth to scream, but he slammed his other hand over her mouth. Alex held the flap aside as Nick shoved her toward the center of the tent.

  “Hey! Watch it!” she yelled when he released her mouth. On her Things-To-Piss-Me-Off List, Manhandling fell right after Kidnapping. Just above Condescension, Sexism, and Chauvinism. “Where do you get off grabbing me like that? Where in your job description does it mention attacking the guests?” She straightened her shirt and tried to untangle the stupid mile-long sleeve. “If you don’t stop manhandling me, I’ll slap a lawsuit on you so fast your heads will spin.”

  They stared at her.

  Okay, she could do this. Maybe they were new. Or disgruntled employees out to make trouble for Management. Whatever it was, she could handle it. God knew, her persuasive abilities had won over a lot of tough-sell clients.

  She straightened her shoulders and faced Alex. “What, exactly, do you want that you felt the need to haul me in here for?”

  Alex took off his gloves and handed them to Nick. “That’s what I should ask you since you have my stolen items.”

  “Stolen? What are you talking about?”

 

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