Rendezvous With Yesterday

by Dianne Duvall

  Beth looked at him in surprise. Had he actually been following that? Because she and Josh had totally abandoned Middle English somewhere along the way. “I’m sorry, Robert. I didn’t mean to switch languages. Did you understand any of that?”

  “I understood much of it,” he said.

  Really? He must have learned more modern English than she had realized.

  Robert trained his gaze on Josh. “Beth will not die in childbirth. She will live a long and healthy life if she returns with me to my time.”

  Josh made a scoffing sound. “According to whom?”

  “According to Seth,” he replied.

  Josh frowned. “The time traveler with all the gifts?”

  Robert nodded.

  Beth blinked. “Seth really said that?”

  “Aye.”

  “When?”

  Robert raised the hand he clasped to his lips for a kiss. “Whilst you and the others supped last night, I drew him aside and tried to convince him to let us live out our lives here in your time.”

  “Why?” she asked softly. Seth had given them no indication that he might change his mind. And it would’ve required Robert to leave his own family behind.

  “I wanted you to be happy,” he said simply. “So much so that I did beg him to let us remain here. But he would not.”

  “I am happy, Robert.” She cupped his strong jaw in her free hand. “As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.”

  He shook his head. “You described such wonders in your world, Beth, that I thought you would have a better life here. I feared living in my time would be a hardship. And, having seen all I have today, I know it will be.”

  “Nay. It won’t. Not as long as I have you,” she insisted. “And you’ve only seen the good things my time has to offer. There are a lot of bad things in my world, too.”

  He stroked her hand with his thumb. “I believe Seth read my doubts clearly, for he assured me that you and I would have a very long and happy life together at Fosterly.”

  She sent him a wry smile. “And if anyone would know, he would.”

  Robert chuckled. “Aye. I believed him.”

  “I believe him, too.” Smiling, she returned her attention to her brother. “It’ll be okay, Josh. I know it. I feel it.”

  “Beth.”

  “You’ve always told me to trust my instincts. Well, my instincts are telling me not to fight this.”

  He must have read her determination, because he ceded the battle. For now. “How long will you be here?”

  “A week. Then we have to go back.”

  And it might take her that long to convince her brother she would be well.

  Chapter Twenty

  Robert smiled down at Beth as she took his hand and swung it back and forth.

  He had abandoned his armor in favor of jeans and a T-shirt Josh had generously lent him. On his feet, he wore a pair of Josh’s sneakers, which Robert decided were the most comfortable shoes he had ever worn. It was like walking on cushions.

  Beth was similarly garbed in jeans and a T-shirt, but hers molded themselves to every curve.

  Josh had invited their friends Marc and Grant to dinner and expected them to arrive soon.

  Beth’s pretty face was flushed with excitement. She remained in constant motion, shifting from side to side or bobbing up and down on her toes. As Josh had phrased it, she was totally bouncing off the walls.

  “I have never seen you thus,” Robert murmured, thoroughly entertained. He would not have thought anything could distract him from the miraculous television the siblings’ living room boasted, or the gas range with its stunning blue fire in the kitchen. But Beth enchanted him.

  She did a funny little shuffle and dance with her feet that made Josh laugh from his position across the living room. “Do you like it or hate it?”

  Robert grinned. “I like it.” It made him want to take her in his arms and—

  The doorbell rang.

  Emitting a squeak of excitement, Beth jumped up and down, then dragged Robert out of the living room and into the hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom.

  “Do you not wish to stay and greet your friends?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I want to surprise them.”

  They heard Josh open the door and greet his guests. Two deep male voices joined his. Beth released Robert’s hand and covered her lips with her fingers as though she found it almost impossible to hold back the delighted flow of words that threatened to burst free.

  She was so adorable that Robert was tempted to drag her into the nearest bedroom and make love to her. But just as he decided her friends would have to wait, she jumped into the doorway to the living room and yelled, “Surprise!”

  A charged silence followed.

  Curious about these men who were so important to his wife, Robert stepped up behind her.

  They were tall, matching his and Josh’s height. Both were dressed casually in the jeans and T-shirts that were so common in this time. One of the men had black hair that was almost as long as Beth’s. It framed a handsome face graced with dark eyes, a mustache and a beard that covered his chin, but left the rest of his jaw bare.

  The other man, however, was the one who drew and held Robert’s attention.

  His skin was a warm, dark brown. Darker than Robert had ever seen. Was he a Moor, like those Dillon had told him tales of after returning from King Richard’s crusade?

  The man’s head was clean-shaven and shone beneath the overhead lights. His face was handsome, angular, highlighted by brown eyes and a mustache and beard similar to the other man’s. But while the first man’s short beard was as straight as his hair, the Moor’s was wavy and curly.

  Both men stared at Beth as though she were a spirit, their faces a study in shock. Then they lunged forward simultaneously.

  Beth held up her arms, waggling her fingers and dancing on her toes. The Moor reached her first, sweeping her up into his arms and holding her tight, her feet dangling above the floor. The other man impatiently awaited his turn, his gaze flickering to Robert’s and holding.

  Setting her down, the Moor stepped back.

  Beth leaped into the second man’s arms.

  Robert ruthlessly tamped down the jealousy that threatened to rise. Loving Beth meant accepting her penchant for openly expressing affection for men she considered her friends, often through physical overtures like this. He knew she meant naught improper, so he resolved not to let it bother him.

  When the second man stepped back, the first embraced her again. “Are you all right?”

  Though the Moor spoke Beth’s modern English, Robert had learned enough to understand his meaning, if not every word.

  Beth nodded. “I’m fine.”

  Loosening his hold, the Moor slid his hands down her arms and grasped her fingers. “We thought—” He broke off, lips tightening, throat working in a swallow. “We thought you were dead or…” He shook his head, unable to continue.

  Sniffling, Beth gave his hands a squeeze. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “What happened?” the other asked, voice hoarse.

  Robert was touched to see that both men battled tears.

  “I’ll tell you everything. I promise.” Beth withdrew one of her hands and reached back to touch Robert’s arm, urging him forward. “But first I want you to meet Robert. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have found my way back to you.”

  The Moor instantly held out his hand. “I’m Grant. Nice to meet you, Robert. Thank you for helping Beth.”

  Robert shook his hand. “In truth, I did very little, Grant.”

  The Moor cast Beth a look. Robert had tried to speak modern English, but thought his accent had probably distorted it quite a bit.

  The other man offered h
is hand and shook his head. “You brought Beth back to us. Thank you. I’m Marc.”

  Perhaps his pronunciation hadn’t been that bad after all. “Pleasure to meet you, Marc.”

  Across the room, Josh clapped his hands together. “Okay. Everyone has been introduced. Beth has a long, astonishing tale to tell. I’m sure Grant and Marc are as eager to hear it as I was. My scrumptious Cornish hens are eager to be consumed. So, let’s gather around the table and oblige everyone. Beth, don’t forget the pictures.”

  Two days later, Robert found himself standing on the covered front porch of Marc’s two-story home. Though he had only been outside long enough to walk here from Bethany’s house next door, already damp patches formed on his shirt.

  The sun beat down behind him as he turned the knob and pushed.

  The door did not open. Perhaps it was barred from the inside. He had not asked Beth the custom for visiting neighbors here. But when he visited castles of friends and acquaintances in his time, he awaited his host in the great hall.

  Wiping the dampness from his forehead, he tried the door again, then noticed a strange glowing circle surrounded by a golden ring embedded in the door frame. Curious, he poked it with his finger.

  Bing bong.

  Glancing up, he looked for the source of the curious chimes, but saw no bells. Pursing his lips, he pressed the circle again. Bing bong. It sounded as if the bells might be inside the house. Robert pressed the circle again, experimenting.

  Bing bong. Bingbongbingbongbingbong. Bing. Bong. Bing bong. Bingbong bingbong.

  The door swung inward. Squinting against the bright light, Marc peered out at him, keeping in the shadows. “My lord?”

  Beth had revealed Robert’s title the night she had told her friends where she had spent the past two years. Odd, though. For a moment, when Marc had spoken the words, he had sounded almost like an Englishman.

  “Ah. Marc. I was just familiarizing myself with your bell here.”

  “So I heard,” he said with a wry smile. “Come in.”

  Clasping his hands behind his back, Robert stepped inside and stood back while Marc closed the door. Robert was not sure why, but he had felt an instant affinity with this man. Mayhap it was simply because Marc seemed to have the least amount of difficulty understanding Robert’s antiquated speech, something that had even surprised Beth. “’Tis wondrous cool in here.”

  Yawning, Marc nodded. “Air-conditioning is one of the best inventions of this time,” he declared, no hint of England tingeing his words now.

  Robert must have imagined it. He noticed then that Marc was barefoot. His long black hair was mussed from sleep. His eyelids were heavy over deep brown eyes. Stubble coated the jawline his beard didn’t. And the only clothing he wore was a pair of faded blue jeans, which Robert suspected he had donned upon hearing the bells chime.

  “Forgive me. I seem to have disturbed your rest.”

  “No problem. I tend to work late into the night and often don’t go to bed until after the sun has risen.” Motioning for Robert to accompany him, he shuffled into the adjacent living room, switched on an overhead light, and sank down on the sofa.

  Sofas were another grand invention of this time period, Robert decided as he seated himself at the opposite end.

  “Beth didn’t come with you?” Marc asked, smiling.

  “Nay. She had a doctor’s appointment. And Josh had some business he needed to take care of.”

  Marc frowned. “She isn’t sick, is she?”

  “Nay. She and Josh decided ’twould be best if she had something called a checkup before returning to the past.”

  “I agree. Perhaps you should, too.”

  Robert stiffened. “Absolutely not.”

  Marc grinned. “They told you about the rubber-glove exam, didn’t they?”

  Grimacing, Robert nodded.

  “That’s what I thought. So, what can I do for you, my lord?”

  Robert hesitated. “There is a boon I would ask of you. ’Tis of a delicate nature and I did not feel comfortable approaching Josh with it.”

  “Well, I’m honored that you chose me. What would you have me do?”

  “There is a secret I need your help unearthing.”

  Marc tilted his head. “A secret?”

  “Aye. I saw it on television, and know not where to begin searching for it, only that it belongs to a woman by the name of Victoria.”

  For a long moment, Marc said nothing. Then his lips twitched. “A secret that belongs to Victoria?”

  “Aye.”

  “I assume you wish to procure some of Victoria’s secrets for Lady Bethany to take back to your time?”

  “Precisely.”

  A slow grin stretched his lips. “I can definitely help you with that.”

  “I would be very grateful.”

  Marc laughed. “I can imagine.” Rising, he said, “I believe, my lord, it is time I introduced you to something called the Internet.”

  Robert eyed him as he stood. “’Tis most curious.”

  His eyebrows rose. “What? The Internet?”

  “Nay. That is the third time you have addressed me as my lord.”

  Marc’s look turned guarded. “Is it?”

  “Aye.” And he had sounded completely natural doing so, unlike Josh and Grant, who had only done it in jest.

  “I suppose, considering your title, I deemed it appropriate.”

  The words rang falsely, though Robert could not say why. “I see no need for such formality, not in this time, and not if we are to become friends.”

  Slowly Marc’s shoulders relaxed. “I believe we already are friends, Robert.”

  Robert smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “We are. Now tell me more of this thing called the Internet.”

  With the help of Marc’s computer and a piece of plastic he called a credit card, Robert purchased many secrets for Beth that would be delivered the next day. He had been quite dismayed when Marc had told him he could not use the gold coins Robert had brought with him as payment.

  “Those coins are centuries old, Robert, and are no longer used in the common market.”

  “Then they have no value in this time?” Robert had intended to leave whatever coins he did not spend here with Josh as a gift.

  Marc snorted. “Those coins are extremely valuable. Because of their age and pristine condition, you could probably purchase Victoria’s entire store with them. But they must be sold to a rare coin dealer first—or perhaps even a museum—and exchanged for modern moneys.”

  “Then I will do so and repay you for letting me use your plastic card.”

  “It isn’t necessary, I assure you. In fact, I would much prefer that you repay me in a different manner.”

  An hour later, Robert and Marc were sweating buckets, as Beth would say, and grinning like fools as they hacked at each other with a pair of blunted swords Marc had produced that looked remarkably like the ones Robert used to train his squires.

  While Marc had donned shoes, Robert had stripped off his shirt, leaving him in only his blue jeans and sneakers. They had shoved all of the living room furniture up against the walls, providing them with a suitably large area in which they could spar. And spar they did. Marc was an excellent swordsman. Robert would not have thought any men of this time would have reason to perfect such skills, but perfect them Marc had.

  Apparently, unbeknownst to Beth, he was a member of one of the reenactment groups Beth had thought Robert part of the day they had met.

  The two men spoke little as they fought. Occasionally Robert would offer praise or direction, as he did when sparring with his men. But very little direction was needed. More often than not, he laughed out loud with the sheer exhilaration of battling so worthy an opponent.

  Bingbong bin
gbong bingbong bingbongbingbong. Thump thump thump thump thump.

  Breathing hard, both men stopped and turned toward the door. Marc took a step forward, lowering his sword tip.

  The door burst inward and Beth hurtled past, disappearing down the hallway at top speed. “Marc!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “I’ve lost Robert! I can’t find him!”

  “In here,” Marc called.

  Beth’s sneakers squeaked as she skidded to a halt on the wood floor, then backtracked into the living room. “I can’t find Robert! I—”

  As soon as her eyes lit upon Robert, she let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.” Wilting against the nearest wall, she pointed an imperious finger at him. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  Robert raised his eyebrows. “Visit Marc’s home?”

  “Aye! I mean, nay. When I got home from the doctor’s office, the house was empty and you weren’t in the garage or in the backyard or anywhere else that I could see, and there was no note, and I didn’t know where you went, and… Do you have any idea how many people live in Houston? Or how long it would take me to go door to door, asking each and every one of them if they had by any chance seen a gorgeous but loony Brit who speaks garbled English?”

  Robert frowned. “My English is not garbled.”

  She turned her frown on Marc. “Hi, Marc.”

  Marc grinned. “Hi, Beth.”

  “’Twas not my intention to worry you, love,” Robert told her, hoping to calm her temper.

  “Well, you did. I haven’t been that scared since I was shot.” Straightening suddenly, she noticed for the first time the new furniture arrangement and the swords in their hands. “What are you two doing?”

  “Sparring,” Marc answered cheerfully.

  Her eyebrows nearly met her hairline. “You know how to wield a sword?”

  “Aye,” Robert said. “And, after sparring with him, I must admit Marc is my equal.”

  “No way!” she exclaimed incredulously.

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” Marc mumbled. And damned if he didn’t flush at the compliment.