contempt.
Peering at Judith’s closed eyes, her damp cheeks,
he cringed and muttered, “Jesu! Are you crying?”
“I’m sorry you don’t excite me as much as I apparently
excite you.”
Had this giant of a woman, nearly as tall as he, with
her cropped hair and thick, dark lashes, ever excited
him? Aye, she had. But those feelings, like his cock,
had withered.
“Damnation! The only thing I hate more than a
woman who fights is a woman who weeps—not that any
woman I’ve had in my bed has ever done either,” Andrew
added.
“You’re in my bed,” she clarified, opening her eyes
to slits and glaring at him.
“Not any longer.” He stood up and pulled on his
clothes. Andrew had never—never—had a wench reject
his advances. High born or low, his first love, Lady
Chandra, or one of Laycock’s servants, they spread their
legs eagerly, they giggled and they moaned. True, he
hadn’t had many women, compared with other knights
his age. But he’d had a goodly number. So obviously it
wasn’t he who had the problem, it was she.
“What ails you?” he asked Judith suspiciously. “Are
you made of stone? Have you no passion in your heart,
no sensation between your legs? What sort of woman
are you?”
If he had pricked her in the arse with the point of a
lance, Judith could not have flown up off her back any
faster. Sitting upright and leaning toward him, she
screwed up her face and stared at him unblinkingly with
wild, daring eyes.
“Don’t you get it?” she shouted. “I’m a witch, just
like your brother said!”
Before he could stop her, Judith grabbed her sack
from the foot of the bed and somehow opened the top
seam. Then she retrieved a black object from within,
something no longer than the length of Andrew’s hand.
She pulled a stem from the top and proceeded to
brandish it at him menacingly.
Andrew had never seen the like. “What is that?”
“A weapon! If I fire it, you’ll die. Worse, you’ll
disappear, as though you never existed!”
Andrew considered the article in Judith’s hand.
Whatever the curious thing might be, it did not look
dangerous—it had neither blade nor point. So he grabbed
it from her, squeezed it, shook it, and waved it. When
nothing happened, he laughed.
“If this be magic, it requires another spell to restore
its powers. A rock would be far more deadly.”
Judith’s face turned pink. God’s tears, if only he
could arouse her ardor the way he aroused her fury!
But as he could not, Andrew decided to tamp down her
temper. Calmly, he asked, “What is this object, really?”
Judith sighed and shook her head. “I could tell you,
but you wouldn’t understand.”
He scowled. “I may be young, but I am far from
witless.”
“I didn’t say you were stupid,” she insisted. “I just
said you wouldn’t understand. And you won’t.”
“Make the attempt,” he ordered.
“I—I’d like to put some clothes on first.”
“Have no fear, I shan’t try to bed you again.”
“Really? Not ever?”
God’s teeth! The wench looked so damnably hopeful!
Why did she feel no desire for him?
He glared at her, his mouth quirked to one side.
“Not anytime soon.”
Judith glanced down at her tunic and then at her
leggings, which remained on the floor near the tub. “My
clothes are damp and dirty,” she observed.
Andrew harumphed. “I’d not have deemed you a
fastidious wench,” he admitted. Then, quite graciously,
he thought, he decided to supply her with fresh
garments.
He left Judith very briefly, calling for Bridget as he
strode to his private bedchamber. Ordering the servant
to lend Judith one of her own tunics, he grabbed
something from his own clothes trunk, something the
wench could wear until Bridget brought her a suitable
gown.
When Andrew returned to Judith, she no longer
looked hopeful. She looked disappointed. Apparently,
she’d been praying he would not return.
He bristled. “Bridget will bring you a tunic to wear.
In the meanwhile, you may use this.” He tossed his
silk bed robe at her, and it fell across her bare knees.
Her lashes fluttered as she mumbled, “Thank you.”
And for an instant, she looked as comely and demure
as any young damsel hoping to win a knight’s favor. But
even if she were the lady she claimed to be, Andrew
was not the sort of knight whose heart a damsel hoped
to claim. Women of noble birth rejected landless
knights—those younger sons with neither power, wealth
nor land—in favor of eldest sons and heirs. Chandra
had rejected Andrew for just such cause.
Judith sat again on the edge of the bed, though now
she was wrapped in the emerald green silk that
enhanced her eyes. Andrew settled himself beside her
and brusquely pulled her satchel into his lap. “You’re
not truly a witch, are you?”
“No.”
“Nor are you in King John’s employ, sent here to
learn our secrets?”
She shook her head.
“Then what are you, Judith? A lady, a peasant, a—”
“—Wreck,” she volunteered suddenly as a giddy laugh
erupted from deep in her throat. “That’s all I am right
now, Andrew. Confused. Lost. Homeless. Scared.”
Judith continued to laugh, sounding more and more
mad. Jesu! ’Twas a good thing Elfred was nowhere about
to witness this behavior. He’d drown her in the river if
he heard such cackling.
“Stop! Cease!” Andrew grabbed her shoulders and
shook her ’til she quieted. “I understand you’ve little or
no memory, so of course you are befuddled. But your
memory will return, and in the meanwhile, you’re safe
here.”
“I am?”
By the saints! She sought another vow from him,
another pledge.
“Aye. I shan’t touch you again.” Did I say that? Did I
truly say that? Andrew gritted his teeth before
demanding, “How did you open the satchel?”
“You were supposed to figure it out on your own,”
Judith reminded him. “You told your brothers you would.”
“I tell my brothers all manner of things,” he
admitted. “I rarely mean half of them.”
She smiled, and it was lovely. It seemed her first,
truly genuine smile since she’d stumbled into his path.
Andrew noticed that Judith had very good teeth, like
his own. Few could boast having a mouthful, and almost
no one had teeth that gleamed white.
“Here. See this little tab?” Judith asked, at last
demonstrating the process by which she’d opened her
bag. “You pull it one way to open the zipper, the other
way to close it.”
“The zipper?”
“That’s what this fastening is called. I think because
of the sound it makes.”
Andrew pulled the tab himself. “I would have puzzled
out its workings if I’d had more time.”
“I’m sure you would have,” Judith agreed. Andrew
suspected she was being accommodating, not honest.
“This thing has teeth!” he observed aloud. “What
creature grows so many tiny teeth?”
“No creature. They’re not real. They’re
manufactured, made of plastic and nylon.”
“Plastic? Nylon?”
“Materials. Like the silk this robe was made from.”
She fingered her sleeve. “Or the brass somebody
fashioned into your buckle, here.” She touched his belt.
Their eyes met. Andrew’s thoughts no longer
remained on his buckle. They had sprinted south to a
particular part of his anatomy not far below his belt.
As though she’d burned her fingers, Judith drew her
hand away. He wished she had not, but because of his
pledge, he searched for another diversion. Abruptly, he
upended the satchel onto the bed.
“Hey! Don’t do that,” Judith shouted.
“I would see what mysteries you carry in this
enchanted satchel.”
“It’s not enchanted. It’s just my gear.”
“Gear?”
“Belongings,” she explained impatiently.
“Show me,” he demanded.
“No! These things are personal. Besides, you
wouldn’t understand what any of them are. They’re
nothing you could use.”
“I shall be the judge of that.” Simply because he’d
decided to treat the damsel kindly did not mean she
had any right to tell him what to do. In the end, she
would do what he demanded.
“Fine,” she conceded.
Or at least Andrew thought Judith conceded. She
used the word as though it had another meaning than
the one he knew.
“Here’s another pouch with no opening, no strings.”
Judith picked up a small brocade purse. A flap folded
over one side, and when she lifted it, the cover opened
noisily.
“You’ve torn it!” Andrew said when he heard the
ripping sound.
“No, I haven’t. Look at this.” Judith ran her fingers
over the flap, sealing it in place again.
Disbelieving, Andrew took the pouch and imitated
Judith’s actions. To his surprise, the flap came away
again intact. “How does it work?”
“It’s Velcro.” She showed him two black strips, one
on the outside of the pouch, the other inside the flap.
“The top here is made up of a million little hooks. On
the bottom, there’s just as many little loops. When you
press them together, they latch.”
Andrew found himself fascinated. Holding the small
bag only inches from his nose, he studied the Velcro
strips.
“Are these plants?” he asked, running his fingertips
across the fuzzy surface. “Something that grows in the
ocean, perhaps?”
“No. I don’t know how, but they’re man-made.”
“So small...I would deem it impossible, if I saw this
not with my own eyes. What is within?” he asked
curiously, plunging his fingers into Judith’s cache before
she had the opportunity to explain.
“I told you, those are my personal things.” She
snatched the lumpy little purse away from him.
Judith owned so many fantastic possessions, Andrew
decided not to interrogate her further about the small
bag’s contents.
“What is this, then?” He grabbed a box. It was
shallow, wide, and quite heavy.
Judith’s brow furrowed. She looked weary. “It’s a
machine,” she informed him.
“Machine?”
“A device. It can do many things.”
“What can it do?”
“Oh, Andrew, a whole lot of things. I can’t explain it
all to you now. It’s just—too complicated.”
He scowled thoughtfully before picking up the black
object she had threatened him with. “This is no weapon,
is it?”
Judith shook her head. “I just wanted to frighten
you.”
He grinned. She’d been so foolish. “I know.”
She pursed her lips and made him wait a long
moment before saying, “It’s called a cell phone. Where I
come from, people use them to speak to each other if
they’re far apart.”
“Nobody shouts?”
“Sure, we shout plenty. Especially in New York. We
use phones, though, when we’re too far apart to shout
and be heard.”
He pounced on the information Judith had let slip.
“York,” he repeated.
“What?”
“You come from York. You said so but a moment ago.”
“No, Andrew.” She shook her head, but Andrew
suspected the gesture was a weak attempt to make her
denial plausible. “I’m not from York.”
Damnation, the wench lied! Andrew intended to
accuse her of prevarication, but before he could, a gust
of wind blew in through the window. Judith gasped and
shivered.
Impulsively, Andrew touched her damp head. “You
should dry yourself,” he informed her gruffly, actually
glad to be diverted from their pending argument. He rose,
went to the window, and tied a piece of tanned hide
across the opening to shutter out the brisk breeze.
“Warm yourself by the fire, Judith. Bridget should show
herself soon with the clothing I asked her to bring you.”
Surprisingly, the woman did as he ordered,
approaching the fire with her arms stretched out before
her. As she rubbed her hands together, Andrew headed
toward the door. He could not resist her possessions,
though. Impulsively, he scooped her belongings back
into her satchel as he passed her bed.
“What are you doing?” Judith squealed.
“You can see well enough what I am doing.”
“Don’t! Andrew, please, my things are of no use to
you.”
She must be a lady, chatelaine of her own keep. She is
certainly used to giving orders!
“I wish to examine all of them,” Andrew announced.
“Then I shall decide what’s of use to me. You will not.”
“You don’t know what anything is if I don’t explain
it. Besides, most of it is girl stuff.”
“‘Girl stuff?’” He squinted at her. The phrase sounded
disagreeable.
“Yes. Things—items, possessions—that only women
use. Like your mother and sisters. Things a guy—a
man—wouldn’t be caught dead with.”
“Scents?” he asked suspiciously. “Potions?
Unguents? Materials you use when you have the flux?”
“Yes! Exactly.”
Andrew tossed the black bag back onto the bed. He
wanted nothing to do with the curious concoctions and
accoutrements women used in private upon their
persons. “You may keep it for now. But,” he added,
emphasizing
that word, “I would have you show me
everything your bag contains in due time.”
“In due time. Sure, Andrew. Yes.”
He deemed Judith quite appealing when she was
obedient and obliging. He would have her obedient and
obliging while he pumped himself into her and she
writhed naked beneath him in bed. Why, by all the
saints, had he promised not to touch her ever again?
He had not meant it.
Somehow, this mysterious female had beguiled him.
Chagrined at being a victim of her cunning, Andrew
felt compelled to say in an imperious tone, “Wench, I
am the master here. As such, you must always defer to
me and address me as Lord Andrew.”
Judith’s mouth fell open, and her eyes glinted with
fire—what he saw was no reflection from the nearby
flames but her own temper flaring.
“You call me ‘wench’ and expect me to call you ‘Lord
Andrew?’ I have a name, too! I think I should be
addressed as Lady Judith! Because I am a lady, and you’d
do well to remember it.”
“I shall remember only what I choose to. Besides, I
am far from convinced you are a lady. Until I am, to me
you’re no more than a wench.”
***
Andrew quit the room and closed the door—just in
time to avoid being pelted by Judy’s cell phone, which
she pitched in his direction with the force and speed of
a professional baseball player.
That brief, spontaneous action seemed to relieve
her last spurt of anger. She had too much on her mind
to stay worked up over petty insults and youthful
arrogance. Hell, she’d not only traveled through time,
she’d nearly been...well, not raped, but forcibly seduced.
Judy picked up the phone. She had the wild idea
that, with nothing to lose, she may as well try. So she
punched the required buttons and then...felt afraid to
put the phone to her ear. If it worked, if her call went
through, she would know she had not gone back in time.
If not asleep or delirious with fever, she’d have proof
she had become the random target of a mean-spirited
practical joke by performers who took their roles too
seriously.
Warily, not daring to glance at the digital display,
Judy brought the phone to her ear. Nothing. Dead air.
She’d traveled out of range—by about 800 years.
Five
“Bridget? Bridget!” Andrew shouted as he made his
Kohl, Candice - A Twist in Time.txt Page 7