Kohl, Candice - A Twist in Time.txt

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by A Twist in Time. txt (lit)


  about him, from his dark locks to the angle of his clean-

  shaven chin, appeared the same as Andrew’s. And

  though each stood at a different but somewhat modest

  height, the trio had identical builds, even identical

  strides!

  The blue-eyed man—Judy thought he seemed the

  eldest, probably only slightly older than herself—thrust

  out his arm, pointing at her. The tip of his finger nearly

  touched her nose, and she flinched, pressing herself

  against the back of her chair. He barked at her in his

  sharp, incomprehensible language.

  Judy hadn’t a clue as to what he had said. But she

  heard herself respond with the only French phrase that

  remained in her vocabulary ten years out of high school:

  “Je m’appelle Judith.”

  Judith. God, how she hated her given name, or at

  least she had as a teenager. But Mademoiselle O’Flynn,

  her tenth grade French teacher, had insisted she use

  it in class. So that’s what came out now. I am called

  Judith.

  The man scowled but continued to address her. Judy

  remained bewildered, and she’d used up her entire

  repertoire of conversational French. So she sat there

  finishing her second large mug of wine and fighting the

  urge to bring her legs up under herself and curl into a

  protective ball.

  “She doesn’t speak French, Robin,” Andrew

  announced. “She appears only to speak English, though

  not very well. If you wish her to understand, speak slowly

  in that tongue.”

  “You have no Norman French and speak English

  badly?” Robin asked Judy with a frown. “Where are you

  from, wench? And do not lie, I warn you.”

  She refrained from announcing—haughtily—that

  she hailed from America. Andrew hadn’t been very

  impressed with that information. And if she really had

  traveled back in time, America did not yet exist as a

  country. If she named it, this man, Robin, would believe

  she lied. Since he had warned her not to, she hedged.

  “A faraway land.” In miles and time.

  The thought made her wince, and she swallowed

  back tears. When the servant with the jug appeared

  again, unobtrusively topping off the men’s tankards, she

  held out her own for refilling. As soon as she could bring

  the cup to her lips, she swallowed back more wine.

  “Your family. What are you called?”

  “Lam—”

  Her history, not surprisingly, failed her. Judy didn’t

  know what the situation between England and Italy

  might be. Was there an Italy? Weren’t they all city-states

  with petty kings to rule them? Did the Pope and King

  John get along? Were these English nobles Catholic or

  Protestant? When had the Reformation occurred? Judy

  couldn’t remember, if she’d ever known. Her head hurt,

  so she gulped the dregs from her cup, hoping to dull the

  pain.

  Fortunately, she found herself spared having to

  provide her surname, which sounded so obviously

  Italian to anyone with an ear, because Andrew

  commented, “Judith Lamb. A fair enough name. Indeed,

  an English name.”

  The third brother—Elfred, she presumed—reached

  out and roughly tucked up her chin. “Aye, a fair name

  and a fair face. But why is her hair unseemingly shorn?

  And these clothes.” He lowered his hand from her chin,

  grabbed her wrist, and yanked her to her feet. “What

  manner of garments are these?”

  Judy’s metal mug clattered to the floor as she lost

  her grip on the handle. It rolled toward her tote, which

  Andrew had set down a few feet away. Immediately Judy

  stooped down, as though to pick up her tankard but

  actually to retrieve her bag. Unfortunately, her head

  swam and she wobbled, allowing Robin a second to

  perceive her intentions. Moving more quickly than she,

  he scooped up the tote and stepped beyond her reach.

  “Give it back,” she cried, lurching as she stood

  upright. If Andrew hadn’t caught her about the waist,

  Judy thought she might have sunk to her knees.

  Cradling the tote in one arm, Robin attempted to

  open it with his free hand. He had no success. “There

  is no string,” he observed, “no tie. ’Tis sealed.”

  “How can a satchel have no opening?” Elfred asked

  curiously as he leaned forward to peer at the bag in

  Robin’s hands.

  “No doubt it’s been sewn shut,” Andrew surmised,

  taking the tote from Robin.

  “It is not sewn shut,” Robin declared with authority.

  “I examined it.”

  “Then ’tis a mystery I will solve.”

  “And what will you do with the wench here?”

  “She is a mystery I should also like to solve.”

  Robin made a scoffing noise. “What? You’ve naught

  to do otherwise?”

  “Nothing except protect those who remain here after

  you and Elfred leave.” Andrew gestured with a broad

  sweep of one arm to include no one at all.

  “You needn’t mock me, Andrew. Though ’tis true

  Mother and our sisters are away at a wedding, and Elfred

  and I will soon be joining our sire near London, you are

  needed to protect the demesne, our servants, and the

  town’s folk of Wixcomb.”

  “I mock no one, Robin,” he insisted, though Judy

  heard a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “Why should I resent

  being left behind, still again, to watch over the babes

  and the aged when I have such a comely wench to

  amuse me?”

  Robin tsked, and Elfred said testily, “You could do

  other with your life, Andrew. You could do as I do, and

  ride the circuit with other knights, competing in

  tourneys that earn us good, solid coin.”

  “Is that where you are going? To compete for money?”

  “Nay, I—”

  “Elfred is coming with me, as you certainly know,”

  Robin put in. “He asked to join Father, and I decided he

  could.”

  “But I asked, and you said nay,” Andrew pointed out.

  “Damn you! For a brother I love well, Andrew, you

  try me sorely! What do you think, that we are joining

  our sire and the other English barons to tryst with

  comely damsels and drink ourselves into sweet dreams?

  This business with King John is serious. If Lackland

  fails to concede to our demands, there will be war!”

  Judy jerked, and Andrew tightened his hold around

  her waist. His hand actually slid upward so that his

  splayed fingers pressed against her ribs, and the edge

  of his thumb grazed the underside of her breast.

  Under other circumstances, Judy would have

  extricated herself from his embrace. Certainly, she’d

  have given the groper a good tongue-lashing. But Robin’s

  bellowing had the same effect as someone beating a

  kettle drum—she flinched and her lashes fluttered. So

  Judy remained anchored by Andrew’s arm, deciding that

  staying on her feet was preferable to falling down, even


  if the man who served as her anchor copped a feel.

  “Grow up, little brother,” the blue-eyed knight urged.

  Judy felt sure that he and Andrew had had similar

  conversations before, and that Robin had grown tired of

  them. “There is slim chance that Elfred will ever rule

  Laycock, and none at all that you will. Elfred accepts

  his lot; you must, too. For now, enjoy your days as lord of

  the keep, while Father and I are away. Mayhap the

  experience will enable you to oversee your own fief

  wisely, should you obtain one.”

  “I shall bear your advice in mind, Robin. And I shall

  most surely enjoy my authority, fleeting as it is, by

  entertaining myself however I like.”

  Robin glanced at Judy. “Aye, that you will, I’m sure,”

  he said before turning to Elfred with a shrug. “Let us be

  off. This curious wench has delayed us, and we’ve no

  time to dawdle. I must join Father as soon as I’m able.”

  “You can’t mean to leave that—that urchin here with

  Andrew!” Elfred sputtered.

  “Aye. Why not? She appears harmless enough, and

  she seems to amuse him. At least, she soon shall.”

  “Robin, you cannot be serious! We should take her

  with us and, at the very least, leave her far away from

  Laycock Keep.”

  “Why should you do that?” Andrew demanded.

  “Because she is not one of us,” Elfred explained. “She

  speaks no Norman French.”

  “That only marks her as a common peasant. Do you

  fear the humble folk who work our land?”

  “She doesn’t work our land, nor is she wedded to a

  man who does. She doesn’t even dwell in Wixcomb—

  she could be anyone from anywhere! In these troubling

  times, ’tis not a risk I think we should take.” Elfred

  paused but continued to scowl at Andrew. “What ails

  you? You cling to her as though she were your lady love.”

  “I thought we determined she is no lady.”

  “I sure as hell am a lady!” Judy announced

  indignantly, snatched from her languor by the insult.

  In the boozy state that, like Demerol, dulled Judy’s

  senses, she’d been content to try to understand as much

  of the conversation floating around her as her drink-

  addled mind and their curious accents allowed. She had

  even permitted Andrew’s subtle groping without too

  much indignation. But she would be damned if she’d

  allow these ghosts, or whatever they were, to insult her.

  There, she drew the line.

  To emphasize her assertion, Judy belatedly grabbed

  Andrew’s offending hand and threw it off. Unfortunately,

  dignity failed her when she tried to step away and

  stumbled, nearly falling.

  Again, Andrew seized her. This time, when he

  caught her, he hugged her to him. He even gave her a

  speculative smile before raising his chin to gaze over

  her head at his brothers.

  “Did you hear that, Elfred? The damsel here insists

  she’s nobly born. Mayhap ’tis true, despite her

  questionable use of English and her appalling attire. If

  it is, I should locate Lady Judith’s kin. It might improve

  my lot if her sire, or her husband, could reward me for

  my efforts.”

  “Lady Judith!” Elfred sneered contemptuously. “Not

  in a thousand years.”

  “If she be not a lady, it matters naught to me.” Andrew

  made his eyebrows dance.

  “You are ailing,” Elfred insisted, shaking his head

  in disgust, “if a female in chausses and a child’s short

  tunic heats your blood. Have your way with her, if it

  pleases you. But if she proves to be a spy working for

  our enemies or—or a witch, your swiving will cost us

  dearly.”

  “A spy? A witch?” Andrew sneered. “I am not ailing,

  Elfred, but your wits are addled!”

  “Be still, both of you,” Robin snapped. “Indeed, Elfred,

  you speak foolishly, and I’ve no time for it. I am leaving

  now. Join me if you wish, or go joust, or stay here and

  keep a wary eye on Andrew and the girl, whichever you

  will. Father and I have serious matters to attend to.”

  He turned and strode away.

  Elfred hurried after him. “What of that sack she

  carried?” he asked Robin. “It has no seams, it must be

  enchanted. And what of the wench herself?” Without

  missing a step, Elfred turned back and pointed to Judy.

  “Her speech is neither true Saxon nor English. Her

  clothes are all male. And her hair! She is too foreign

  and curious to shelter anywhere but the scullery.

  ’Twould be better if she be disposed of.”

  Disposed of. A pang of fear permeated the alcoholic

  haze still cocooning Judy, and she whirled within the

  circle of Andrew’s arms to call out to his brothers.

  “I—ruined my clothes!” she announced, barely

  thinking up the lies before they spilled from her lips.

  Yet her explanation caught Robin’s and Elfred’s

  attention, for they halted at the archway near the door

  and turned around to face her. “I—I caught my hems on

  fire. Luckily, a boy—a lad—offered me these garments

  he’d outgrown, or I’d be naked. As for my hair—”

  “What of your hair?” Elfred prompted.

  Judy recalled a scene from one of her authors’

  manuscripts, a period story, a historical. “I was ill with

  fever not long ago,” she informed them. “They—they

  shaved my head.”

  “There!” Andrew said. “A fever and deliriums could

  well explain why this damsel—mayhap a noble damsel—

  was wandering about unescorted.”

  “She was lost?” Robin asked, peering at his brother

  with narrowed eyes.

  “Aye,” Andrew replied. “When I first encountered her,

  she asked me for directions.”

  “To where?” Robin had drawn closer, and he spoke

  directly to Judy now. When she failed to answer quickly,

  he pressed, “From whence do you come?”

  The Twilight Zone.

  “What place do you seek?”

  Another dimension.

  Robin’s handsome face turned ruddy, and Judy knew

  she had better say something quickly. “London,” she

  told him, naming the first city Americans thought of

  whenever they thought of England.

  “London! No matter where you began your journey,

  be it within or beyond England’s borders, to find your

  way here when looking for London, you surely traveled

  far out of your way.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  He transferred his scowl from Judy to Andrew. “What

  is it she said?”

  “I told you, she does not speak English properly.”

  “Then how is it you understand her strange tongue

  so well? And what language is it that she does speak

  properly?” he fumed. “Latin?”

  “Not even close,” Judy remarked with a snort. Then,

  peering into Andrew’s tankard and discovering it still

  held wine, she decided not to let the grape go to waste.

  Taking th
e mug, she hoisted it, threw back her head,

  and downed the contents. It was, she determined, much

  easier dealing with these horrors smashed instead of

  sober.

  “God’s tears, the waif is drunk,” Elfred observed as

  he retraced his steps to stand beside Robin.

  She definitely was that, and knowing it, Judy

  grinned. So far today, it was the best thing that had

  happened to her.

  “’Scuse me,” she apologized with a hiccup, covering

  her lips with her hand and closing her eyes.

  That proved a mistake. The moment she did, she

  felt nauseous. Even when she snapped her eyes open

  again and tried to focus on Robin’s face, he and the room

  beyond him whirled. Judy’s stomach churned as she

  fought the urge to vomit.

  “Aye, she’s drunk,” Andrew confirmed, slipping an

  arm behind her thighs and lifting her like a baby. “Don’t

  fret, Elfred. I doubt the wench can do much harm. Even

  I should be able to handle her.”

  Though her lids felt heavy and remained nearly

  closed, Judy detected the leer in Andrew’s chocolate-

  colored eyes when he glanced down at her. She’d visited

  enough singles’ bars to recognize the gleam and to

  understand that “handling her” was precisely what he

  had in mind.

  “See that you do, Andrew,” Robin advised. “Use her

  ’til you’re sore, and if you determine where she belongs,

  send her back there. But I remind you, little brother,

  you do have duties at Laycock which you’d best not

  neglect.”

  “I’m fairly confident I can manage all of them and

  Judith as well,” Andrew returned. “Farewell, brothers!

  Rest easy in the knowledge that Laycock Keep shall still

  be standing upon your return.”

  With Judy still cradled in his arms, he strode across

  the hall and began to climb the exceedingly narrow,

  winding staircase to a floor somewhere above.

  “Where...are you taking me?” she asked.

  “To bed.”

  Oh, bed. That sounded nice. A mattress and covers

  to cuddle up in.

  Damn! Judy went rigid in Andrew’s arms when, a

  heartbeat later, she recalled his true intentions. Her

  mouth dropped open in startled concern as he kicked

  open a door, banging it against an inside wall, and

  dropped her roughly onto a bed. When he jumped onto

  the bed and stretched out beside her, Judy finally found

 

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