Stephen, however, didn't appear to notice Nick's surliness. He'd directed most of his remarks to Julie, mentioning he owned a collection of medieval love songs. When she'd asked to see them, Stephen had invited her to stop by on her way home. After she agreed, Nick had spun on his heel and stalked off without saying as much as goodbye. Just what had been eating him puzzled her. She had never seen such a strong reaction from Nick in the whole time she'd known him. Maybe he was nervous about the feast.
After lunch, Julie supervised while three hired men from the village set up rows of trestle tables in the great hall. The banners and tapestries were removed from the stone walls and aired. She wished they could afford to have them dry cleaned, but the budget could only be stretched so far. At least they looked a little less faded after being shaken.
The women she'd hired to portray serving wenches helped her hang them up again. Their colorful scenes depicting life in the eleventh and twelfth centuries lent a festive air to the hall, without which the place had all the warmth of a stone fortress. In the great fireplaces at each end of the hall, huge logs surrounded by kindling lay ready for lighting. Even on the last day of April, the evenings remained cool and the fires would help warm the air a little.
Late in the afternoon, she paid the men and women who'd assisted her and sent them home. Tomorrow they'd be back dressed in costume to wait on tables.
.Thank goodness, all was ready for the feast. Hot and tired, she leaned against the cool stone wall. Then she remembered Nick had asked her to check the armory for wayward tourists before she left. He'd gone out riding. To inspect his demesne, he'd said. Before she went to the armory, she'd check first with George about the deliveries. He was efficient, but there was only one of him. She'd hired some students from the university for tomorrow, to give him a hand with the easy stuff like chopping vegetables. But, she'd also lured the cooks from the St. George and the Dragon Inn in Cambridge for one day to help with the meat and fish dishes. Julie wished they could afford an army of servants for the event; unfortunately, this was the best she could do on the castle's meager budget.
As soon as she reached the kitchen, George greeted her with a problem. She solved it, but another half-hour passed before she remembered the armory. First, she had to lower the portcullis. Why Nick had started insisting on this all of a sudden, she had no idea.
With the tourists gone and the kitchen at the rear of the central keep, complete silence reigned in the courtyards of Barstow Castle. In the Middle Ages, Barstow Village had belonged to the de Montclair family, and the two baileys teemed with everyday life. Now the courtyards were deserted, even if Nick liked to pretend they weren't.
She walked across the lower bailey to the gate and pushed a button on the wall. The iron portcullis creaked slowly down. As she waited, Julie thought about the original owner of the castle. Had he been like Nick, handsome, kind and pleasant—if a little dull? Or, had he been a man who would have made the blood surge through her veins, a heroic man, one who would turn her bones to mush and propel her heartbeat into overdrive—one filled with fiery passion?
Dream on. She would never know the answer to that. So why waste time thinking about it? She needed to finish up here, check the armory and get on home.
As she moved through the great keep, the oldest section of the Norman castle, she remembered the story Nick had once told her about catching a Cambridge student hiding in the armory. On a dare, the boy had tried to remain overnight in the castle. For that reason, Nick always checked the areas open to tourists before closing up for the night.
The setting sun poked golden fingers through the narrow west-facing windows as she entered the armory. Dust motes danced in the gleaming light. She gazed around, making sure no uninvited guests lurked in the distant corners of the large, chilly room, a place where shadows always seemed to shift of their own volition. Julie didn't really believe there were ghosts in the old castle, but those shadows made her a little nervous.
She stopped in front of Nick's newest armorial acquisition. It hung on a stand made for just that purpose. The sun's long rays touched the armor, giving it a reddish glow, almost as if it were still bathed in ancient blood. Pushing the atavistic fear of old things away, she turned her attention to the chain mail. What had the man who had worn it looked like? Tall and dark with amber eyes?
Don't go there!
She turned her attention back to the armor. The separate pieces lay on a chair next to the stand holding the chain mail hauberk. She'd been too angry when Nick showed her his latest find to inspect the workmanship. Now, she reached out and ran her fingers over the links, admiring the skill of the artisan who had crafted it over seven centuries ago.
After a few minutes, she realized the sun had set, and those worrisome shadows were creeping in from the corners. Time to leave. She hurried out and locked the armory door behind her. Once outside, she walked across the upper bailey and left by the postern gate, locking it as well. As she crossed the fields, a gray-violet dusk slipped over the countryside and a light luminous mist rose from the still warm earth. The air smelled of grass and spring flowers. She smiled and stretched out her arms in pure joy at the return of spring.
When she reached her cottage, she found Lily sitting on the steps.
"Well, hello,” she said. “I thought you had a project to finish."
Lily rose. “I finished it. Can you spare a minute to come down to the shop? I'd like to show you something."
"Sure.” Julie fell into step with her friend. “What is it?"
"A surprise.” She laughed. “So if I told you now, it wouldn't be one, would it?"
Julie smiled. “All right. Have your fun."
They reached the shop and went in. Julie followed Lily into the back room waved Julie to one of the stools and took the other herself.
"Now, what's this surprise?” Lily must have crafted something exquisite. Her pieces always looked as if some exotic land had offered up its ancient riches.
Lily reached into a small drawer under the stone counter and drew out a piece of jewelry. Placing it in Julie's palm, she murmured, “What do you think of that?"
Julie gasped. “Oh, how beautiful, Lily. Did you just make this? It looks like an old design."
"Oh, yes, it's old. But, I didn't make it. It's something I recently...acquired."
Julie wondered about the hesitation in Lily's explanation. It was almost as if Lily didn't want to tell her about the necklace's origins. As she admired the lovely amulet, she forgot her reservations. Its massive size told her, it had once belonged to a man—a big one. A huge multi-faceted amethyst rested in the arms of some intricately worked silver filigree. She didn't even recognize the strange designs. Had it come from the Mid-East or could the design be Celtic?
"Will you sell it?” Surely it would bring a handsome price.
"No.” Lily picked up a jeweler's cloth and taking the necklace from Julie, began to polish it. “I intend to give it to you."
"To me? But why? I can't afford to pay you."
"Did I ask for payment? I believe Nick has a birthday on Sunday. Since this is a man's pendant, perhaps you'd like to give it to him."
Julie hesitated. “It's just the sort of thing he'd adore. And we are both wearing purple velvet costumes. This would be perfect on him."
Opening the little drawer again, Lily drew out a jewelry box lined in white velvet. She placed the man's amethyst amulet on its pristine bed.
"If I take it, I'm telling him it's mostly from you,” Julie insisted.
"No, Julie. I'm giving it to you. If you wish Nick to have it, then it must be from you and you alone."
"But I can't afford..."
Lily laid her fingers over Julie's lips. “Hush. I won't hear any more protests. Take it with my blessing."
"But I can't..."
Lily gave her a long enigmatic look. “I think, my dear, there may come a day when you'll be glad I gave this to you."
Startled, Julie took a step backward. “What do yo
u mean?"
"When the present becomes the past and the past the future, you will see why you needed this."
Julie hated it when Lily did that. She knew her friend thought herself reincarnated from some distant past, but Julie didn't buy into that idea at all. She firmly believed a person had one life to live in this world and then an after life someplace else. Lily's occasional odd pronouncement to the contrary made her feel uncomfortable.
Deciding to be gracious in defeat, Julie slipped off the stool and gave her friend a big hug. “Thank you so much, Lily."
The older woman smiled. “I'm sure this gift will be just what Nick wants."
Julie gave her another hug and hurried out the door. She was already pondering how to explain to Nick just how she'd come by such an expensive and unique piece of jewelry. Hopefully, his delight in the gift would put off any questions about its origins and cost. Perhaps wearing it would even make all his dreams come true—whatever they might be.
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Chapter 7
On May Day Eve, Julie stood beside Nick in the great hall, greeting his guests from the Medieval Society, people who traced their roots back to the Middle Ages, perhaps even to William the Conqueror. They came from Suffolk, Norfolk and Cambridgeshire pretending to be their ancestors without the attendant discomforts. This formed their common bond. The money they contributed toward the feast made the event possible. Certainly, Nick's modest income wouldn't begin to cover the cost. But Nick had one thing most of them didn't—a genuine castle from the revered time period. So they paid him to host the event.
As the crowd moved forward into the great hall, Julie glanced at Nick. He wore a long mauve silk tunic with gold embroidery and a surcoat of purple velvet. A fine woolen mantle lined in soft vair hugged his wide shoulders. His dark hair waved back from his tanned face and his amber eyes glowed with excitement—no—anticipation. Of what? A shiver raced down her spine. This was the same old feast they celebrated every year. What was different? What was there to anticipate?
He caught her staring at him and grinned. “Great fun, isn't it?"
Julie smiled back. “Yes. And I love your costume.” He appeared to have stepped from the pages of a book on thirteenth century wearing apparel.
"I saw Henry the Third wear this once."
And she knew how much he'd paid to rent it—too much. But money never worried Nick, not if... What did he just say? “You saw him?"
"Ah...I saw a painting of him. Pretty authentic looking, isn't it?"
Julie nodded and gave a silent sigh of relief. His mind hadn't truly retreated into the past. Tonight she wanted the man whose hot gaze had sent strange feelings racing through her body for the last two weeks, that stranger in Nick's body who made her nerves tingle and her heart thud like jungle drums.
"Shall we join our guests?” Nicholas asked, taking her arm.
They strolled along, stopping to chat with this one and that one. Julie halted before Sir Stephen Norville and his wife Margaret. The resemblance to the Norvilles of his time was unmistakable. Nicholas scowled at Stephen.
"Goodness, Nicky, what's the matter with you tonight?” Margaret peered at him, her dark eyebrows raised. Julie glanced at him, too.
Suddenly, he remembered his plan. This was not the way to make Julie like him, to trust him, to go along with rubbing the amulet and flying back through time.
He managed a smile. “Just a headache from working so hard, that's all."
Julie snorted. “Uh huh. When did you work?"
"I provided the entertainment, didn't I?"
"Oh, all right. That was something, I suppose."
Nicholas took her arm again and with a short nod to Stephen and a smile for Margaret moved off through the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye, he inspected Julie. Her clothes were similar to one of Julianne's favorites, a dark amethyst velvet surcoat over an underdress of pale reddish violet. He had picked it out at the costume shop. Wearing the proper clothing, she would fit in when they returned to his time.
Trestle tables had been placed in five lines perpendicular to the dais where Nicholas and Julie would sit along with several other titled guests. The hired servants, dressed in garments befitting their station, hurried about setting day old bread trenchers on the fine linen tablecloths. It would have been more fitting to have had the pewter plates used in his time, but none had survived the centuries.
No electric lights burned tonight. The hall's lambent glow came from huge fires at either end of the great hall, torches on the walls and dozens of candles set in lines down the middle of the tables. Delicious odors of roasting meats came from the kitchen, making Nicholas's mouth water. He'd asked Julie to get George plenty of help. A hundred guests would tax any cook.
Julie glanced toward a corner where three men with recorder, psaltery and harp were rendering “Greensleeves."
"You found some musicians. They're good."
He shrugged. “It wasn't hard.” Only because Lily had helped him. “I understand the supply far exceeds the demand.” In this century, he'd had no idea where to look, but Lily told him the Medieval Society had lists of people almost begging for work. After some trial and error with that marvelous invention, the telephone, he found just the right threesome. But he did hope the two men knew something besides “Greensleeves."
Julie's astonishment on learning the entertainment had been arranged pleased him. Maybe his descendant was a lazy incompetent, but he wasn't. If he wanted something, he went after it. And had done so all his life.
In his sixteenth year, his father, the Baron of Barstow, had died and Nicholas had inherited the title. Because of his youth, he'd become the immediate target of his land-hungry neighbors. Responsibility had hit him hard and he'd grown up in a hurry. With Edgar of Newington and Miles Norville's help, he'd organized his father's knights and fought for his birthright. And he certainly hadn't expected any woman to help him, the way Julie took care of Nick. Not then, not ever.
He amended that last thought. Julie could help him outwit the Norville of his time.
He slipped his hand into the pouch at his waist and touched the amethyst amulet. He had decided to wait until they arrived at the feast to give it to her. Less time for questions.
"I need to speak privately with you, Julie."
She nodded toward an empty corner. “Over there."
As they walked across the room, Julie said, “This is amazingly authentic, Nick. I feel as if I've stepped right into medieval times. It's almost like it must have been then."
"Almost,” he agreed with a smile.
Julie sighed. “But I can't help wishing..."
Stopping in the secluded corner, Nicholas turned her to face him. “Be careful what you wish for, Julie.” He took her hands in his and gazed down into her lovely upturned face. Her violet eyes stared back, their hue like purple lilacs, her perfume a light scent of the same flower. For a moment, his head whirled.
"You're beginning to sound like Lily. She said some very strange things to me the other day."
"Such as?” She had his full attention. Lily wouldn't have warned her, would she?
"That there would come a day when I'd be thankful for a gift she gave me. When I asked her what she meant, she wouldn't tell me more. Don't you think that's odd?"
"Well, it sounds like Lily. I wouldn't make too much of it.” The mention of a gift gave him an opening. He reached in his pouch, drew out the amulet and handed it to her.
"For you,” he said. “To go with your gown."
Julie gave him a puzzled look. “How did you know?"
"Know what?” He circled her shoulders with his arm and drew her closer. She didn't seem to notice, just reached into her purse and brought out a box.
She handed it to him. “Happy birthday."
Feigning surprise, he opened it. Inside was an amulet, just like the one he'd given Julie only larger.
Julie laughed. “I guess great minds run on the same track.” She took it from its v
elvety bed and standing on tiptoe slipped the chain over his head. Then her merriment stilled. “But where did you get the one you're giving me?"
"At Lily's.” Julie's gift didn't surprise him because on his visit to Lily she'd shown it to him.
"An exact duplicate only larger.” She'd stared at it for a moment, then laid it on her worktable.
He'd bent and inspected the piece, careful not to touch the witch-accursed thing. The design was identical to the one he'd purchased for Julianne two years ago in the Orient. I'll give this one to Julie,” Lily said. “She'll want a gift for your birthday. Then you'll each be able to travel back to the thirteenth century."
"Will they work?"
She smiled enigmatically.
Although a hardened warrior, Nicholas remembered how cold shivers had chased themselves up and down his spine at her words. He would have rather faced an army of whirling dervishes brandishing scimitars than Lily's magic if he had a choice—which he hadn't.
Julie's soft touch on his arm brought him back to the present. “Do you like it, Nick?” Her finger touched the jewel resting on his chest. “I wanted to give you something special. At first, I couldn't think what it should be. Then Lily showed me this."
That conniving witch! “It's beautiful,” he said finally, when he could choke the words past the rising bile in his throat. He glanced down and saw she still held the other amulet.
"Let me,” he said, repressing a shudder as he took the necklace from the box and slid it over her head. He lifted her long golden hair in order to settle the amulet around her neck. The impulse to trail kisses down her throat, almost got the best of him. Instead, he dropped his gaze and explored the valley between her breasts where the amulet rested. “It has found the perfect place to adorn,” he murmured, his voice thick with mounting desire.
When he raised his gaze to hers, he recognized in her eyes the reflection of his own need. Time stood still and the crowd around them faded. A potent tension flowed between them, nipping at his nerve endings, urging him to wrap his arms around her.
The Amethyst Amulets Page 7