Alex wanted to believe she wasn’t a thief, but many of his beliefs were being tested today. The gypsy woman had been right. Ever since Telesa had taught him the ways gypsies fooled gadje, he’d known to never believe their predictions, but now with this woman standing in front of him, his ring on her finger…
He hadn’t told Nick everything the gypsy had said. Hadn’t told anyone. “What’s your name?” he asked the beautiful thief in front of him.
The woman’s emerald green eyes narrowed. “Kate Lawton. Why?”
God’s blood, it was true. “Kate, who else saw you with the ring?”
“You mean beside everyone at the faire when I got swept up in their procession?”
Alex resisted the impulse to shake her for being so casual about something his family held dear. Something his people held dear.
Nick slapped his blade in his palm. “She speaks strangely, Alex.”
She did. Which would have been the second thing Lady Aubridge noticed after the ring.
Why did she have to have seen Lady Aubridge?
“How did you come to be at my tent?”
“I ran into a boy on the hill who said to go to ‘yon tent’ and here I am. I wish I hadn’t listened.”
Alex was glad she had; he could only imagine what would’ve happened if she’d shown up in anyone else’s tent. He’d have to remember to thank Duncan, his squire—amid figuring out how to handle the firestorm that was about to ensue.
“Nick, find Tris and meet me at the lists. There are things we must discuss.”
“Alex—”
“Do it. We’ll discuss it there.”
Nick didn’t like the order, not that Alex could blame him. Truth was, Alex didn’t particularly relish his position above his friends. Rarely did he exercise it, but there were times, such as now, when he needed the fealty Nick and Tristan had sworn to him when he’d inherited the earldom.
Kate took another sip of wine after Nick left. And another.
He sat next to her and took the mug. He needed her sober more than he needed Nick’s sobriety. His own? That was up for discussion.
“Well then, Kate, it’s done. Lady Aubridge has seen you wearing the ring, which means the tale will be all over England by now.” He traced the ring’s surface, perhaps more to convince himself of what he must do than anything else. “It’s not too bad. You are rather comely and can put a complete sentence together. A little addle-brained, perhaps, but you’ll do. You’ll have to.”
“Do? Do what? I’m not doing anything.” Kate pulled her hand back. “What’s all over England? Oh, God, England.” She tried to pull her hand away. “Why won’t you let go of me?”
Because he didn’t want to. And that had nothing to do with his ring. She was, simply, beautiful. Glorious auburn curls, eyes the same shade as the emerald in his ring, lips that enticed him… Jesu, it’d been too long since he’d lain with a woman. He couldn’t want this one.
“Because, my dear, Lady Aubridge would find herself remiss in her self-appointed duty of announcing the Earl of Shelton had found himself betrothed if she didn’t immediately proclaim her newfound knowledge to the first, next, and last ear to cross her path. Including our good king.” And most especially, Isobel.
Kate’s mouth fell open. “Betrothed? You can’t be serious.”
“Do I look as if I’m jesting? Trust me, I do not jest about betrothals.”
Fire flashed in the depths of her emerald eyes. “And just what makes you think I’ll ‘betroth’ you?”
“The gypsy foretold it.”
“Excuse me? Gypsy? Marriage?” Kate shook her head. “I think you’ve had a little too much wine yourself, Alex, so, if you don’t mind, I need to get my window.”
“Window?”
“Yes. Another souvenir I bought earlier that I left out there by a tree. You’re not going to say that you’re missing a window, now, are you?” Kate stood up and started walking toward the opening of the tent.
He couldn’t help but admire her spirit. More than was prudent at the moment, but still, admirable. “Kate, you aren’t going anywhere. I require your hand in marriage.”
She spun around. “Really? You can require my entire body in marriage and you won’t be getting it. I. Am. Leaving. Got it? Going back home. Where I belong.”
She headed toward the opening again, but Alex caught a swath of her skirt before she made it. He was unaccustomed to begging, but then, today was unlike any other. “Please, Kate. You must listen to me.”
His death grip on her gown stopped her. As did that word. Please. Why did it sound as if it wasn’t one he often used?
Which was one more reason to get the hell out of here. She’d had it with chauvinistic, selfish men. She tugged her dress free, completely uninterested in whatever he had to say. The only thing she wanted to hear anyone say was, “Welcome to Wendy’s, may I take your order?” Or, “You’ve got mail.” Or, hell, even, “License and registration, please” would do. Something, anything to tell her this was all some hideous dream and she was alive and well and living more than five hundred years in the future.
She plunked down onto the stool, her knees giving out at that thought. Which annoyed her. She, who had stood before CEOs and Boards of Directors proposing million-dollar expenditures, she wasn’t frightened of anyone. Anything.
But then, she’d never exactly experienced this. And how would this go over if she missed her appointment with the adoption agency? Sorry, but I was off gallivanting around fifteenth century England. Can we reschedule?
Yeah, that’d go over real well. She’d have to kiss Emma goodbye. Figuratively, because they wouldn’t allow anywhere near her daughter after that. She needed the window. It had to be the key to this mess because the ring was doing diddly-squat and she’d been alive and well and hanging out in PA until she’d touched that thing. Which meant she had to humor him enough to be able to get to it so she could get out of here.
“Okay, Alex. Why do you have this ridiculous notion we should get married?”
“How did you come by my ring?”
“I already told you. I’m not a thief. I’m an Assistant Vice President for a highly respected advertising firm. And while that holds quite a bit of sway where I come from, I doubt there are people lining up to hire any around here. And female ones, at that.” She shook her head. Thirty-some years of women’s lib, ninety-plus years of the right to vote, and in one fell swoop she was back in the days of chattel. And after she’d taken such pains to divorce the one man in the twenty-first century who’d still thought of his wife that way. Oh, the irony.
She wasn’t about to re-live it. “Alex, really. Here.” She pulled the ring off and held it in her palm. “Take the ring back. Tell Lady Aubridge she’s mistaken. Or that I stole it. Or ran away. I don’t care what you say, I just want to go find my window and get out of here.”
Alex looked at it, then back at her. He said something, but she didn’t understand a word.
“What?” she asked.
He said something else. More gibberish.
“Speak English, please, Alex. I don’t understand Vulcan. Or Hobbit.”
Alex stopped mid-sentence and tapped his ear, then uttered something which sounded familiar. Sort of. Sort of middle English… Medieval English.
Kate put the ring back on. “Say that again.”
“Say what, Kate? And what language did you speak? It didn’t sound like any I am familiar with, though it does prove you have some education—”
“I’ve got more of an education than you can imagine. And it was English all right, just not the one you’re used to. Turns out—” She wiggled her finger. “I think this ring is a translation device.”
“A what?”
“It lets us understand each other. Your English is different from my English, and I couldn’t understand you when I took it off. See?” She took it off and started reciting the Pledge of Allegiance—something he wouldn’t be familiar with.
Alex shook his head, to
ok the ring, and slid it back onto her finger. “You’re right. I couldn’t understand you. You should wear that at all times.”
She sighed. “Quite a turnaround from ‘mine, all mine.’”
His lips tightened. “Then you should be pleased since you wanted it so badly. And now you’ll have it. As well as the rest of the Shelton jewels.”
Kate thought about strangulation, but tossed the idea aside. She was pretty sure murdering a peer of the realm incurred the death penalty these days. “How can you marry me? You didn’t even know I existed until an hour ago.”
The fact that she hadn’t existed here an hour ago was beside the point.
“Actually, I did know. I just didn’t believe it.”
“Oh, right. The gypsy. So what did this seer-of-all have to say about me?”
“That you would have what I’d lost.”
“And from that you get I’d have your ring?”
“But you do.”
“That’s beside the point. Do you really believe in fortune-tellers, and soothsayers, and witches?”
Alex crossed himself. “We don’t speak of witches.”
Oh. Right. They probably burned them at the stake in this century.
Kate ran a shaky hand over her forehead. “Look, I get that you’re doing what you think you should do, but, trust me, it’s not. What we should do is find my window and send me home.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Kate. I need you.”
Those words wouldn’t be bad to hear from the other side of a bar. Or in her bed. But most of all, in the twenty-first century. Not here. Not now.
“Alex, you don’t even know me.”
“A fact which shall be remedied within the hour. Nick and Tristan will find out all I need to know.”
“Good luck with that.” It’d be amusing if it weren’t so, well, not. “Look, my... my lord.” She tried out the phrase then decided that—medieval mores aside—there was no way she was going to subjugate herself by calling someone her anything, let alone lord. “I appreciate the honor, but I’m not marrying you. I shouldn’t even be here.” She twisted the ring.
“Why not?” He sounded genuinely surprised. Of course, the guy was an earl. Probably not used to women turning down his marriage proposals, impassioned or otherwise.
“You’d never believe me if I told you.”
“Humor me because it will take quite the story to convince me. You don’t fully comprehend the power of Lady Aubridge’s rumors.”
She opted not to go for the whole enchilada with the time travel thing. Witches and all… “I need to get home to my daughter.”
His smile faltered. “A child? You have a husband?”
Yeah, sure, why not? That’d put an end to his marriage plans. “Yes. I do.”
He arched an eyebrow, which was an entirely too sexy look on him. “Inventive, Kate. And precisely what the gypsy said you’d say. She also said that it’s not true. You don’t wear a ring.”
That’s because she’d rubbed her skin raw to remove the reminder that she once had.
Alex brought her hand to his lips. “One other than mine, that is.” He kissed it.
Chivalry was alive and well and sexy as hell in the fifteenth century—and became a full-on inferno when he turned her hand over to kiss her palm.
She shivered as his touch sent fire licking over her nerve endings, and she wanted to sink into that massive chest and have him wrap his arms around her and lose herself in the feel and scent and taste and touch of him—
Oh Lord, she was in trouble. She could not want this. Forget that it—he—was a complication she didn’t need; she was stuck in the fifteenth century and had to get home. She had a life, a child, a job.
But then he slid his fingers into her hair and tugged her lips to his and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her. Or she was kissing him. Someone was kissing someone and, oh, boy, she suddenly no longer cared what century she was in.
He cupped her cheek, his thumb teasing the corner of her mouth, curling delicious tendrils of want through her. She gasped. She wanted this, if only for a few seconds. Just a taste. A nibble…
Alex dragged her into his lap, and there was no denying that he wanted more than a mere nibble.
What was she thinking? “We can’t do this.”
“Of course we can.” He tugged her closer and nuzzled the hollow beneath her hear. “As you’ll find out once we are married.”
Married. The word was as effective as a cold shower.
“Alex, I’m from five hundred years in the future.”
“What?” His hands dropped into his lap and Kate had to grab his shoulders to keep from falling backward.
She winced. Her delivery, one of her strong points in the boardroom, needed some fifteenth century refinement.
Oh, God, the fifteenth century. She moved off his lap and back onto the bench. “I’m guessing the gypsy didn’t tell you that part, but it’s true. I’m from over five hundred years in the future. And if you hadn’t just kissed me senseless I probably wouldn’t have said anything.”
“That’s not possible.”
“An hour ago, I would have agreed with you.” Now? Notsomuch.
Alex ran a hand over his mouth and propped the other on his thigh. “This is absurd. What you say can’t be true.”
“And fortune-telling is? Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m telling you the truth.” She patted his arm. “Just this morning I was in my car with the radio blaring and a plane was flying overhead—and you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
“No, I don’t, and I find your attempts at jests laughable.”
“Then why aren’t you laughing?”
He glared at her. Poor guy. He was stuck with witches and magic while she had science on her side. Science and…
Kate dug into her pockets and pulled out her credit card. “Look at this.” She put it on his palm. “Plastic.”
Alex looked at it. “What does it do?”
“Here? Not much. But where I come from, it’s like money. You use it to pay for things.”
He arched an eyebrow. “This?” He flexed it. “It’s too easily broken to have value.”
“Hey! I need that.” She grabbed it out of his hands, then held out her cell phone. “Then there’s this. You talk to people with it.”
“Like the ring?”
“No. You can talk to people anywhere. Even on the other side of the world if you want.”
“The other side? There is no other side. The world is flat.”
Oh, right. Columbus hadn’t sailed yet. “Okay, well then, you can talk to someone in the next city if you want.”
“How?”
Kate tapped the screen, but nothing happened. Great. Time travel must have sucked the battery dry. “Never mind.” She shoved it back into her pocket. There had to be something…
Remembering her running shoes, Kate sat back and raised her gown.
Alex raised an eyebrow. “Seduction will not make me forget your claim.”
“Look, Mr. Arrogant, I am not trying to seduce you.” She wiggled her foot. “Take a gander at these. Rubber soles. I’m pretty sure you guys don’t have rubber. That ought to prove that I’m telling the truth.”
Alex took the shoe from her foot and traced the sole. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“That’s because it hasn’t been invented yet.”
“What else will be invented? More of those ineffectual items you gave me?”
“Hey, those things work in my world. Just like cars, planes, trains, machines... A lot more you can’t begin to guess.”
“So tell me.”
Kate thought for a minute. Fourteen eighty-seven? One of the Henrys was on the throne, no one here had ever heard of Elizabeth I, and they still believed the earth was flat. What damage would she do if she started revealing history as she knew it?
“I don’t think so. I might change the course of history and heaven only knows where that coul
d lead. Take these soles as proof. No one has discovered rubber, yet they exist. Same as the plastic card I showed you.”
The expression on his face mirrored the hollow feeling in her stomach. “Travelling through time is not possible.”
“That’s what I thought, yet here I am.”
“But you can’t really be from the future.”
She thought for a few seconds. “Fourteen eighty-seven, right? Okay, let’s see. Who’s on the throne?”
Again with the brow-raising. “Wouldn’t you know?”
She huffed. “I’m a little rusty on the dates, okay?”
“Henry Tudor.”
“The first?”
He snorted. “The seventh.”
“I meant the first Henry Tudor. So, he’s Henry the eighth’s dad. Okay. If I remember, he beat out Richard the third at the Battle of Bosworth Field, right?”
Alex nodded. “The battle was at Redemore.”
Kate sat up straight. She knew what to tell him now. Thank goodness for her junior year history professor. The man had been a fanatic about British history and Kate had held on by the skin of her teeth to pass the class. She’d worked especially hard on her final paper about the end of The Wars of The Roses—Henry’s Red Lancastrian emblem versus Richard’s White Yorkist one.
“All right, but remember, you asked for this.” She squared her shoulders. “Richard was the guardian for his two nephews, the heir and spare for the throne. When their father died, Richard, effectively, ran the country.” She held up her hand. “I know. It’s already happened. And since Henry’s on the throne, that means the two princes are missing.”
Alex’s face shuttered. Obviously, the history books hadn’t lied about people’s feelings when the young heirs to the throne had disappeared.
“Are you going to tell me they aren’t dead? That they’ll reappear at a later time to reclaim the throne?”
Kate shook her head. “I wish I could. But when they do show up they aren’t in any shape to claim anything. You see, Richard had them killed and buried beneath the steps of the Chapel of the White Tower.”
“How do you know this?” He gripped her arm. “Were you privy to the plot?”
Kate tugged her arm away. His touch did way too many good things to her nerve endings and she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted. “Do you think I’d be telling you this if I were? I wasn’t even there. I know about it because the bodies of two young boys will be found sometime in the late sixteen hundreds where I said. Now, no one could ever prove it’s them, but there’s no record of any other children dying at that age, at that time, in that tower. Coincidence? Yes, but plausible. Most historians, I think, agree they were King Edward’s heirs. And many believe that Richard ordered their deaths.”
Through The Leaded Glass Page 4