"Who would do that?"
"Lady Beatrix. She said..."
Julie interrupted. “It's all right Gwyneth. Just go do some mending in the solar. You do have mending, don't you?"
Gwyneth nodded and gave a long sniff.
"That's what I'd like you to do for me. I am going to lie down and shut my eyes. I'm getting a dreadful headache."
Immediately, she realized that wasn't the thing to say.
"Oh, Lady Julianne, let me get some wet towels to put..."
Again, Julie interrupted. “I'm fine, dear. Just let me shut my eyes for a while and I'll be as right as rain on spring flowers.” She hoped this was true.
Gwyneth, looking somewhat put out, nodded again and after helping Julie remove her gown went off, leaving her in peace.
"Oh, my God, what have I gotten myself into?” she asked the chamber pot, which, of course, didn't reply. She wouldn't have been surprised if it had.
Julie didn't speak with Nicholas about Gwyneth and William, at least not right then. After resting her aching head for two hours, she dressed and slipped from the room. Finding no Gwyneth waiting anxiously to serve, Julie descended the stairs to the great hall. The closeness of her chamber had forced her to seek some fresh air.
The late afternoon sunlight and apple blossom-scented breeze lifted her spirits as she crossed the bailey. She spied a young man who must be William sitting on a stool outside the stables mending a harness. His warm, brown eyes and friendly smile made her feel he was glad of her company.
"Hello, William. Busy, I see."
"My lady,” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “I but mend Archangel's harnesses. Could I be of service to you in some way?"
A horse named Archangel? “I wanted to chat with you, get to know you a little better. After all, you do work with my husband."
Will raised an eyebrow. Had she put her foot in it again?
The skepticism disappeared and he gave a courtly little bow. “I am honored, Lady Julianne."
Suppressing a smile, Julie waved William back onto the stool he'd been occupying and took another next to him. “I've been speaking with Gwyneth."
William blushed bright red and lowered his eyes. Thick, dark lashes fanned his tanned cheeks. Words appeared to fail him.
Julie smiled. “Gwyneth says you and she are friends.” To her, he was still a boy, but she supposed in this world of growing up fast and dying at the beginning of middle age, he would be considered a man. And a handsome one at that. His dark, curly hair framed a square face and a dimpled chin. His smile revealed good teeth. She could see why Gwyneth favored him.
"That is so, my lady,” he mumbled.
"She also said you wished to wed."
At that, William's eyes widened. “Please, my lady, n'er say it aloud. Gwyneth and I could be punished for our presumption. Our parents long ago selected our spouses. I have been promised to Elizabeth of Alford since birth. But I do not wish to marry her since she is only twelve and I do not love her. Next year Gwyneth will marry Gilmarth of Orr. Her father has already deferred to her wishes to wait but will be put off no longer."
"I'm so sorry, William, but I don't see what either Lord Nicholas or I can do.” His problem touched her heart. In her world, these two young people would be going to movies and the senior prom, not apprenticed to a lord and lady to train for their own entry into thirteenth century society. Children their age needed to be learning a trade and...
She stopped. Wasn't that what they were doing? In their world, they were learning how to become a knight and his lady. She had to stop trying to change things. For this day and age, their paths had been wisely chosen.
"I'll not say a word to Lord Nicholas, William. Your secret is safe with me. However, I hope you will give Gwyneth only your courtly love and do nothing to dishonor her.” She gave him a stern look.
"Never would I touch her, my lady. I love her too much."
Julie smiled. “I believe you, William.” She looked away. “Oh, here comes my husband.” Nicholas was crossing the bailey, a broad smile on his face.
"Thank you, Lady Julianne,” William whispered.
And that, she thought, was probably high praise from a teenager of this time. With another smile for the young squire, she went to meet Nicholas. They had much to discuss.
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Chapter 11
After a meal consisting of stew, bread and ale, Nicholas surprised Julie by producing a lute and proceeding to entertain everyone with his pleasing baritone voice. She smiled at him and relaxed, enjoying the music and casual atmosphere. He had talent and an easy way with the castle folk. They all appeared to love and respect him, unusual in a harsh age when most barons were cruel taskmasters.
He sang several songs, before he switched to a lyrical love ballad, never shifting his gaze from Julie's face. She felt her cheeks heat from the ardor in his golden eyes and the amused scrutiny of so many onlookers. Was this a ploy to prove his love for his supposed wife in public? If so he had succeeded—at least with those who filled the hall. When he finished, they cheered and applauded loudly, calling for more.
He shook his head. “Would you have me neglect my lovely bride?” He set the lute beside his chair and rose. “We have been married one day, not one year. We must have some time alone."
Several ribald suggestions as to how to spend that time greeted his words.
He grinned and held out a hand to Julie. “Shall we go, my love?"
Julie met his grin with a frown. She hated being stared at by all these people. She hated being given commands. She hated the whole situation. “I don't think so,” she whispered, still respecting the need for secrecy, but not wanting to be told what to do.
One of Nicholas's knights leaned forward. “She seems not overeager, my lord."
Nicholas glanced at him. “She is merely shy."
Then he moved closer to Julie, his warm breath fanning her cheek. “For appearance's sake, please come with me,” he said softly. “It's of the utmost importance we continue to act as newlyweds."
The urgency in his voice checked her protests and she reluctantly assumed the role of an obedient, loving wife. “My lord.” She rose and placed her hand in his. Warmth flooded her body and an unsettling awareness of him crept over her. For just a moment, she wished herself a real thirteenth century woman married to her knight in shining armor.
On reaching their chamber, Nicholas dropped her hand and barred the door. He leaned against it, crossed his arms and regarded her steadily.
"My thanks for your compliance below.” His quiet words would not carry beyond their thick chamber door.
"I complied, as you put it, because I have questions which should be asked in private.” She started to climb up on the bed, then thought better of it, and sank down on one of the stools in front of the fireplace instead. Nervously, she stretched out her cold hands to the welcome blaze.
He raised an inquiring eyebrow. “What would you know?"
"You said you brought me back for a purpose. Have you decided what purpose? Your wife is alive. I'm merely taking refuge in her head. And there is no baby to guard."
"When I left in April a year from now, Julianne was dead. I rubbed the amulet and found myself in the future. When I saw how much you looked like my wife, I devised a plan to take you back with me. But I thought to return to the time I left, not to my wedding day in 1249. If we had arrived the day I originally left, I would have asked you to help watch over my son."
"But Julianne was dead then. There would've been no living body for me to inhabit."
"I know that now, but I didn't then. However, since she was alive at this time, mayhap that was the reason we were sent back here."
Julie was puzzled. “But if she is alive right now, why do you need me?"
He shrugged. “All I can think of is that I must live this year over and try to change the outcome. If I do not lie with Julianne and impregnate her, mayhap she will live."
Julie blushe
d and changed the subject. “I think we should find Lily and make her explain,” she said, trying to be glad that Nicholas had no intentions of asserting his bridegroom's rights.
Nicholas's expression hardened. “I agree."
"Is she here somewhere?"
"I do not know, but I will soon discover her direction.” He turned and lifted the door bar.
"Wait! I'm coming with you.” She rushed across the room and grabbed his arm.
Nicholas shook his head. “No, my lady. ‘Tis night and the countryside swarms with those who would rob and kill us. You will remain here."
Julie narrowed her eyes. “Now listen up, Nicholas. I'm not some shrinking violet. Get that through your thick head."
He looked puzzled. Maybe the English he'd gotten from Nick's mind didn't run to such expressions. She enlightened him. “A delicate and helpless woman. And by now, you'd better realize that's not me."
He grinned, his even white teeth gleaming in the firelight. “No, Julie, that is not you."
"And I will come with you.” Her defiant tone dared him to disagree.
"All right, you may come. But there are conditions.” His mood changed to serious as his golden eyes stared down at her.
"Whatever. Let's go.” She gave him a little push. He didn't budge.
"You must promise to do exactly as I say. Without protest,” he added grimly, as she opened her mouth to do just that. “In my world there are dangers requiring quick action."
Julie thought a minute. It would be foolish to think she knew the conditions beyond the castle walls better than he. She nodded. “All right. I'll do what you say. Let's just go find Lily."
He grasped her hand and hurried her down the winding stone steps to the great hall. The castle folk made ribald remarks as they crossed the room. One knight called, “Surely, you could ride longer than that, my lord."
Everyone laughed when another female servant called out, “You be gettin’ old, milord."
Julie blushed, but Nicholas just chuckled. “We are going for a ride to cool our ardor.” He had neatly turned the ribald remark around, but spoiled it by adding, “Or mayhap rekindle it.” More guffaws greeted his suggestive remark.
Embarrassed by the castle folk's crude humor, Julie pulled her hand from Nicholas's and slipped out the door. She ran down the stairs to the bailey, glad of the night breeze which cooled her flushed cheeks.
Nicholas followed, his long stride quickly overtaking her shorter one. Inside the stables, he opened a half door and led out the biggest stallion Julie had ever seen. The animal stomped his feet and snorted.
Nicholas laughed and stroked the smooth flanks of the huge destrier. “Archangel thinks I have been overlong in taking him for a gallop."
Julie was tempted to ask about the horse's name, but decided it apt when she pictured Nicholas and Archangel flying across a battlefield, Nicholas's broadsword raised for action and the great horse plowing his way through the foot soldiers, like Michael pursuing Satan.
When a groom appeared, Nicholas told him to saddle the horse, then gave Archangel's nose a final caress. The horse nuzzled him. “Sorry, my friend, I forgot to bring an apple."
Julie stood well back from the mount for several minutes, before she finally gathered her courage, reached out and patted the horse's velvety nose. He was a beauty, all black except for a white blaze on his forehead.
While they waited, Nicholas watched her closely. “You do ride?” He asked, apparently noticing her hesitancy at approaching the great animal.
"Not for many years,” she admitted.
He waved away the other horse a second groom had brought. “Then you will ride with me. Archangel will never notice your weight."
Julie started to insist on her own mount, but she saw the boy had already finished saddling Archangel and stood watching them. She wasn't about to feed his curiosity any further.
"As you wish, my husband.” She lowered her gaze and tried her best to appear submissive, but it went against her principles.
Nicholas chuckled. “You are turning into a most proper wife."
"Don't push your luck,” she muttered under her breath.
"So, we shall ride together and I shall protect you from this fierce beast,” he teased, the wicked gleam in his golden eyes promising more to come.
He lifted her to the saddle, then sprang up behind her. She noted he had buckled on his scabbard, and his shield was fastened where he could reach it in an instant. These actions emphasized his earlier words about the dangers outside the castle walls.
They trotted across the lower bailey through the gates, which the watch hastened to open. One of Nicholas's hard arms grasped her waist keeping her firmly anchored in front of him. As they crossed the drawbridge, he urged the horse into a cantor and then a gallop. Julie leaned back against his chest watching the shadowy landscape rush by. The April night was crisp and the fitful breeze smelled of new grasses and ploughed earth. The horse's flying hooves made a steady clopping sound on the hard packed road. Once an owl hooted.
Her nerves twanging like guitar strings, she shifted restlessly in his embrace. Would they find Lily? Would she answer their questions, maybe tell them what all this was about? And how did she travel so effortlessly through time? Did she have another amulet to rub? Or, because she was a witch or sorceress of some kind, perhaps she hadn't needed anything at all.
Julie shivered. The night air cut through her clothes and raised goose-bumps on her arms, but that wasn't the only reason she'd shuddered. The thought that Lily might have arranged their passage through time for some sinister purpose occurred to her. Now that was really frightening.
Nicholas misinterpreted her movement. “Are you cold, Julie?"
Without waiting for an answer, he wrapped his cloak around her and pulled her tightly against his hard body. She should object to the intimacy, but it felt too good.
The moon etched spidery white patterns on the shadows beneath the tree branches and the dirt road was a silver ribbon stretching through the dense forest This wood had almost disappeared in her time from thirty or so generations of woodcutters feeding their fireplaces. She sighed, realizing this romantic setting was deceptive. Danger lurked unseen in the darkness. Could highwaymen, or whatever they called them here, possibly ply their trade so close to Nicholas's castle, his village? Glancing up, she saw his gaze swinging from left to right, on guard against an attack by the men lurking in the forests, hoping to prey on late night travelers.
She shivered again. Those things were all possible in this less civilized time.
"You are still cold.” He drew her even closer, his heat wrapping around her like a fuzzy blanket, warming places she hadn't realized were chilly.
"I'm fine, Nicholas.” Not quite the truth. Not when she might be trapped here with no clear notion how to return to her own time. And even worse, she found herself attracted to a man who could never be hers—a man who had been dead for over seven hundred years.
Her only hope was Lily, who had turned out to be something other than a friend. The word fiend crossed her mind, but that wasn't quite fair. The woman should be given a chance to explain herself. Nicholas thought her a witch, but Julie wasn't so sure. There must be more to his belief than just the power of Lily's amethyst amulets. Later, when they were not bouncing around on the back of a horse, she would ask him about it.
At last, they broke out of the trees. Barstow Village lay ahead, looking nothing like the same place in her time. It was much smaller, with only one road lined with small wattle cottages, more rustic than their twenty-first century counterparts. Heavy thatching covered their roofs and hung down over the eaves. No sidewalks edged the rutted road. And only a few heavily shuttered windows showed a candle glowing through the cracks. In this time people rose at dawn, worked hard all day and retired to their beds when darkness fell. They had no TVs, books or computers to occupy their free time. A hard existence with few pleasures.
Nicholas slowed Archangel to a walk, and they moved
slowly down the road until finally, he halted at a dwelling more hut than cottage. Its low doorway would force most people to stoop.
He dismounted then reached for Julie. She slid down into his arms. When they tightened around her and he would have drawn her against him again, she shook her head and stepped out of his embrace. “No, Nicholas.” She regarded him sternly from several feet away. “I'm not your wife and there is no audience to convince."
They stared at one another. Julie was the one to break the emotion-charged moment.
She murmured the first thing that came to mind. “Do you think Julianne can hear us? Could you tell if Nick knew you were there?” It was bad enough to be engaged in this charade, but if his real wife were aware of everything she thought and said... Oh, Lord!
He arched an eyebrow. “Why?"
"It would be embarrassing, that's all.” Julie tilted her chin and asked again, “Could you tell if Nick heard you?"
"Nay, the possession seemed complete. Shall we ask Lily?"
"Yes, let's.” She moved toward the cottage and knocked on the roughly planed door.
They waited. No light or sound came from within. “Maybe she's not here."
Nicholas stepped past Julie and pounded his fist against the boards. “'Tis Lord Nicholas. Open the door, Lily.” Still no answer.
They were turning away when the door creaked and a faint gleam of candlelight spilled out on the dew-dampened weeds. A single eye squinted at them and the door started to close.
Nicholas leaped forward. His hand caught the edge of the door, forcing it open.
"Bloody hell, woman! You will open the door when your lord bids you,” he shouted, pushed open the door and stalked in. Julie followed, staring at a woman who no more resembled Lily than Julie did. This person's nose and chin pointed at one another. She had wispy, iron-gray hair and wore ragged clothing of an indeterminable color.
"That's not Lily. You've got the wrong house."
He scowled. “No, that's Lily all right, with this century's face. Tell her,” he demanded of the stooped elderly woman.
"Oh, all right.” Lily's face wavered and reformed. She straightened her back and folded her arms across her chest.
The Amethyst Amulets Page 12