the horses lurched skittishly before settling down again,
Andrew sat motionless, staring at the tape player in
undisguised awe.
“Even coming from the future,” he said finally, “this
be magic.”
“No, it’s not. We simply have methods of capturing
the sounds of instruments and singers so that anyone
can hear them again and again, whenever they want
to.”
“Show me.”
Judy stopped the tape, rewound it, and began the
tune again. When Andrew looked up at her, she thought
she saw tears glistening in his eyes.
“How can you give up such pleasures?” he asked.
“I don’t have any choice.”
“You could, Judith. You could choose to part the
curtain of time again.”
“That’s not why I don’t have a choice.” She smiled
and touched his hand. “I can’t leave you. Ever.”
Andrew grabbed Judy’s waist and hauled her into
his lap, where he kissed her as though he had only just
found her after a lifetime of searching. He said, “At least
you have your magic box. You can still hear your music
here, in this time.”
“For a while,” she conceded. “Until the battery runs
out.”
“The what?”
Judy explained, and just as she finished, “Funny
Valentine” stopped playing. Andrew glanced at her,
alarmed.
“Don’t worry. It still has power. The next song will
start in a second.” When the music began again, Judy
stood and held her hand out to Andrew. “Wanna dance?”
she asked, feeling like a brave girl at a middle school
social, who dared to cross the cafeteria and approach
one of the boys holding up the wall.
“Aye,” Andrew answered gamely, taking her hand
and coming to his feet. Judy wondered if he had any
idea what she had proposed, but instead of inquiring,
she placed his right hand behind her waist and
positioned her left on his shoulder. Then, grasping his
free hand, she swayed to the music and took a few, small
steps, which Andrew followed quite easily.
The sun had disappeared some time ago, but its
waning rays wrapped the world in a lavender cloak
sequinned with the first of many flickering evening
stars. In the English meadow, near a copse of trees,
Judy Lambini danced with her medieval knight under
a twilight sky. The song that graced their ears and
underscored that blissful interlude, which she would
remember and treasure forever, could have been no
other: “As Time Goes By.”
Twenty-two
Judy was married. She couldn’t believe it. She
wouldn’t have believed it if everything had been typical,
if she’d met Andrew at Zabar’s deli a couple months ago
and eloped with him. But that she had married a knight,
a medieval knight, in a small, stone church in the north
of England, and that the Mass following the brief nuptials
had been performed by a dubious priest with dirty
fingernails whom Andrew had paid to conduct the
service, well...she just couldn’t believe it.
But that’s what happened, because Andrew had
persuaded her they had no reason to delay. So, after a
night of seemingly endless lovemaking on a blanket of
grass as green and velvety as any chemically treated
lawn Judy had ever seen in the suburbs of Connecticut,
they had given up their trek to York and turned around.
In a village near the Ackworths’ house, bing-bang-boom,
they’d gotten hitched.
It seemed impossibly romantic, a real live
fantasy...at first. But now, with Laycock Keep again
visible on the horizon, Judy began to second guess her
actions. Marriage to a modern day Andrew would have
required a huge adjustment. Marriage to the medieval
Andrew required enormous sacrifices. Until just this
moment, when she caught sight of the imposing stone
structure that would be her home forevermore, she
hadn’t considered how devastating her concessions
might prove to be. And without even thinking about
them, she had willingly chosen never to return home
to her time, her country, her family, her career. Why?
Why had she so cavalierly made Plan B into Plan A? Her
behavior might have been more reasonable if she’d
known for a fact she could not return to her true home.
But to consciously choose not to try to get back—what
had possessed her?
“We’re home,” Andrew, riding beside her, announced.
She turned to him, felt the warmth of his smile wash
over her, and had the answer to her questions. He had
possessed her. For the love of Andrew Laycock, Judy
Lambini had given up everything she had ever known.
Now, as he bridged the distance between them by
reaching out and catching her hand, she again felt
confident her losses could never rival her gains.
“Do you think your family has returned yet?” she
asked him.
“I don’t know. We’ll see, soon enough.”
***
“Lord Andrew!” Nigel greeted them from the guard
tower when the couple approached the gate some
minutes later. “Welcome home, my lord.”
“Welcome Lady Judith home as well, Nigel,” Andrew
returned. “She is my bride.”
Nigel grinned. “’Tis a pleasure indeed to welcome
you home, my lady.”
“Is any of the family here?”
“Aye, my lord. Your mother and sisters returned a
few days past.”
Judy said nothing as she and Andrew rode into the
bailey, though she did feel relieved. She preferred to
face the female contingent first. If she got them on her
side, facing Andrew’s brothers and his father, the baron,
might not prove so difficult.
“Don’t be afraid,” Andrew urged as they dismounted,
and he took from his bundle the jeweled cross, still
wrapped in wool. “My mother shan’t bite you.”
“But how will she feel about you marrying? And
marrying someone with no estate of her own, no money?”
“Mothers tend to want all their children wed,
especially her daughters and lesser born sons. Besides,
our marriage shan’t affect her. We will not stay long at
Laycock Keep.”
Judy wanted to know where Andrew intended to take
her, where they would make their home. She
understood now that younger sons were expected to go
off and make their way in the world without support
from their families, that only the eldest, like Robin, had
any right to remain. But she hadn’t thought about being
displaced when she’d agreed to marry Andrew. Life was
hard enough in a castle. She couldn’t imagine the trials
of living elsewhere in this harsh world.
“Mother!” Andrew said when they stepped into the
keep’s great hall. Leaving Judy near the arched
entrance, he opened his arms and strode forward to
embrace a woman seated in a hi
gh-backed chair.
Oh, geez. Judy had always been aware of the
universally negative perception of mothers-in-law. She’d
told a few jokes along those lines herself. But she’d
presumed the gripes were all good-humored
foolishness—neither of her own grandmothers was a
nag or a shrew.
So Judy wasn’t prepared for the vision of her own
mother-in-law—a middle-aged woman with horns!
Honestly. Really and truly. The lady of the keep wore a
headpiece with a sheer veil that framed her cheeks
and chin, while from the top sprouted two lethal-looking
horns!
Please, tell me she sings opera!
After a quick conversation in French, Andrew turned
toward Judith and held out his hand beckoningly. In
English, he said, “Mother, I should like you to meet Lady
Judith, my wife. Judith, my mother, Lady Ardith of
Laycock.”
Okay, Judy thought. I’ve survived the publishing
business and dinners with knights and men-at-arms. I can
get through this first meeting with my mother-in-law.
“Lady Ardith, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Judy
debated curtsying and decided against it.
Ardith nodded. Then her glance flicked to Andrew
and she said, “You are married?”
“Aye, Mother.”
“Since Chandra’s marriage, I’d no idea you were
courting anyone, Andrew. Let alone Judith Lamb.”
Judy nearly choked. Andrew frowned, asking, “Do
you know her?”
“I know of her.”
Ardith gestured to unoccupied chairs, and both Judy
and Andrew sat. He put the cross on a small table beside
him and demanded, “How do you know of her? She is a
stranger here.”
“She’s no stranger to Philip, are you, Judith?”
Oh, hell. This woman was protecting her son. Horns
like a bull and the maternal instincts of a lioness.
“Philip of North Cross and I are friends, my lady,”
Judy said. “That’s all.”
“Mother, when did you speak to Philip?”
“He’s ridden here twice since your sisters and I
returned. He told me he hoped to marry you, Judith,”
she explained, glancing at Judy with a nod. “Philip also
voiced his suspicions that you two had ridden to York so
that the lady could be reunited with her family there.”
Judy wondered if she heard a veiled reprimand
directed at Andrew for his having left the stronghold
leaderless. “We didn’t,” she assured the woman, sensing
the need for solidarity between her husband and herself.
“When I first arrived here, I was lost and confused. I
had no memories. Because of...because of my name,
Philip felt sure I was related—that I was kin—to a knight
who lives in York. But I am not related to him, so Andrew
and I never went there.”
“Why is everyone speaking English?” a female voice
queried from the vicinity of the stairs.
Judy glanced in that direction and saw first one
young woman, then another, descending the steps.
“Because my wife only speaks English,” Andrew
explained as he stood. “Judith, these are my sisters,
Camilla and Beatrix. Sisters, this is my wife, Judith.”
“Your wife! How extraordinary,” the oldest of the two
girls exclaimed. Beatrix resembled Ardith, with sandy
hair and light blue eyes, while Camilla looked more like
Andrew, her hair and eyes both dark as sable. “Welcome,
my lady.”
“Aye, welcome,” Camilla echoed. Then she frowned
and said, “That looks like my gown and circlet you’re
wearing.”
“It is,” Andrew confirmed. “When Judith first came
here, she had naught to wear but the clothes on her
back. I gave her some of your things. I knew you wouldn’t
mind,” he added, arching an eyebrow at her.
“Oh, nay. Of course not. I never much liked that
dress. It looks better on you,” Camilla told Judy.
“Why didn’t you have any clothes?” Beatrix asked
curiously as she and her sister sat down.
“As I was telling your mother,” Judy explained, “I
found myself lost and quite alone. I had no memories of
my past life, because—because I’d been ill with a bad
fever. But now I recall most everything.”
Andrew gave Judy a questioning look, raising both
his eyebrows in tandem. She nodded slightly to reassure
him and then proceeded to tell another fiction she’d
lifted from one nameless manuscript or another. Judy
said, “I come from a land very, very far away. So far
away, you have never even heard of it. I was raised a
lady, but when I was shipwrecked—”
Her husband blinked, startled, but Judy ignored him
and continued.
“I found myself on England’s shores with nothing
but the clothes on my back. I hadn’t a dime—I mean, a
penny—in hand. I promptly fell ill, and when I recovered,
I had no memory for a while. So I began to roam, and
eventually my wanderings led me to Wixcomb. Andrew
found me, and he and his brothers were kind enough to
take me in.”
“How extraordinary!” Beatrix said again as she
clapped her hands together in delight.
Camilla added, “And you and Andrew fell in love and
married.”
“You married,” a new voice shouted.
Judy and the others turned toward the archway to
see Philip standing there. Oh, God! She sighed but felt
all her muscles going taut as she watched the fair-
haired knight approach Andrew.
“You took Judith off when that was my intention,”
Philip said accusingly. “You escorted her to York and
confirmed her eligibility. And when you knew she
claimed wealth of her own, enough to support you and
spare you the life of mercenary or monk, you wed her!”
Andrew had risen to his feet and stood in front of his
chair. Philip shouted into his face while his own face
flushed ruddily. Judy found it amazing that she inspired
so much emotion.
“I did none of those things,” Andrew countered. “How
dare you accuse me of marrying Judith for what she
could give me! I’m not the one who had another eligible
damsel, the lady Penelope Winfield, to embrace as
second choice if Judith failed to meet my expectations.”
“Aye, you did not,” Philip agreed heatedly. “’Tis why
you wooed and wed her, because Judith was your only
hope. You stole her from me when I desired her more
than Penelope. You never cared for her as I did, yet you
betrayed me. How could you, old friend? When I think
how I have been fending off not only Penelope, but her
mother and mine.”
Furiously, Philip took a swing at Andrew. Because
they stood so close, he couldn’t have missed. Andrew
reeled, knocking over the chair behind him, but he still
returned the punch.
Soon chairs were scraping over the stones as all
the other women in the room backed
away. Judy looked
at them, surprised to discover they seemed prepared to
watch the two knights pound each other senseless. She
couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t have it.
She spied the cloth-wrapped bundle still lying on the
small table. It had skittered nearer to her when Andrew’s
chair flew over. She grabbed it, unraveling the length
of cloth, while Philip and Andrew continued to brawl.
Her husband, she noticed, had gone down. On his back
for only a brief second, he began scrambling up again.
Philip seemed on the attack, for he bounced on the balls
of his feet, and his arm was drawn back, his fist balled.
Just as Andrew dragged himself up, but before he
could retaliate and before Philip could sock him again,
Judy threw herself between them, jeweled dagger drawn.
With her back to her husband, she aimed the blade at
Philip.
“Hit him again, and this pig-stabber will be sticking
out of your shoulder,” she warned.
“Judith!” Philip blinked at her in surprise. “How can
you—”
“Because he’s my husband. You’re not.” She waggled
the knife point in Philip’s general direction. “Are you
going to stop fighting? Because there’s something I think
you should know.”
He stood still, set his jaw, and scowled over Judy’s
shoulder at Andrew. “Very well,” he agreed tightly.
“I don’t know how long you stood in the archway, but
you didn’t overhear as much as you should have. I was
telling Lady Ardith and her daughters that my memory
has returned. I know for certain, just as I always
contended, that I was raised to be a lady. Yet my
homeland if far away, Philip. I’m not from York, and Peter
Lamb is not my father. In fact, I have no kin alive in
this world, and I sure don’t have any money or own any
land.
“Andrew married me in spite of my poverty, my lack
of noble family ties. You wouldn’t have. You know you
wouldn’t have. So stop acting like a jilted lover and go
propose to Penelope, whoever she is. I hope you’re not
too late.”
Judy lowered her arm, clutching the jeweled hilt of
her weapon with the point aimed toward the floor. Philip
looked down at it, a frown creasing his brow.
“Forgive me,” he said. Then, raising his gaze, his
glance flicked between Judy and Andrew. “Both of you. I
behaved selfishly, and none of my actions was based on
Kohl, Candice - A Twist in Time.txt Page 33