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Kohl, Candice - A Twist in Time.txt

Page 36

by A Twist in Time. txt (lit)


  Her fingers brushed the paper she had laid out.

  Hesitating, she considered writing a note to Andrew.

  Hell, not a note, a book—a book about what he meant to

  her, about her dilemma, about the decision she’d been

  forced to make and how it killed her to make it.

  Judy never picked up the pen. Her feelings were too

  huge to condense on paper. Besides, no matter what

  she confided, Andrew would inevitably feel as hurt and

  betrayed as she’d have if he left her.

  Judy felt herself shutting down. People had to feel

  like this, she thought, when they were dying, letting

  go. She was letting go. And going numb. At the moment,

  she didn’t even feel her bad tooth throbbing.

  Purposefully, she moved about the room snuffing all

  the candles save one. Then she lay on the bed to wait

  awhile longer before she made good her escape.

  An hour passed, and the door opened. Holding herself

  very still, through slitted eyes Judy watched Andrew’s

  silhouette, backlit by the torch in the hallway. He

  hesitated on the threshold, and she wondered what

  she’d been thinking earlier. That he wouldn’t come to

  bed all night? Of course he would. And now that he had

  come, could she still leave him?

  She must. She could endure a lot of things, even

  the damned toothache, but not Andrew falling out of love

  with her. Better she live a lonely, loveless life without

  him than watch his love transform into indifference or

  disappointment.

  “It’s all right.” Judy spoke up suddenly but kept her

  voice low. “I’m not asleep, Andrew.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “A little,” she lied.

  He drew closer and stopped at the side of the bed. “Is

  the pain keeping you awake?”

  “No. I’ve slept off and on.”

  “Did you eat?”

  “I...can’t remember.”

  He sat on the edge of the mattress. Judy inhaled

  through her mouth, which made her molar throb. The

  pain gave her the courage to say, “Andrew, I hate to ask

  this of you, but...”

  “What? Anything, and I shall do it.”

  “Could I sleep alone tonight? If the mattress jiggles

  even slightly, my tooth hurts terribly.”

  “Of course.” He stood. “Forgive me, dearling. I did

  not think.”

  “It’s not your fault. Honest to God. None of it’s your

  fault.”

  She felt tears pooling in her eyes and hoped Andrew

  wouldn’t notice.

  “I will sleep in your old bedchamber. If you need me,

  Judith, that is where I shall be.”

  He hadn’t noticed. “Thanks,” she whispered, looking

  up at him, trying to memorize his face. But the room

  remained dim, even with the light from the hallway,

  and her vision had become distorted with her tears.

  Barely able to make out Andrew’s features, Judy

  wondered if that would be her fate, to recall her husband

  only as she saw him this evening, merely a blurred

  image fading into shadow.

  He took her hand, kissed it, and turned to walk

  away.

  “Andrew!” she called after him impulsively.

  “Aye?”

  “Remember that night at the Ackworths’, when I

  bargained with Lord Geoffrey so you could have the

  dagger?”

  “Of course. I shall never forget it.”

  “Andrew, that’s what I do. You’re a knight and a

  seneschal, so I understand what you do. I just—just

  wanted you to know what I do.”

  “Very well, Judith. Rest, now.”

  ***

  Andrew couldn’t get Judith’s words from his head—

  what a strange little speech she’d made. At first, he

  credited it to her pain and weariness. But later, he

  suspected something more lay behind it. His pulse

  racing and his heart thudding, Andrew ran to their

  chamber, throwing open the door.

  Judith was gone. He saw immediately that she didn’t

  lie abed, and a quick sweep of the room with his gaze

  assured him that she remained nowhere within.

  “Damnation!” he muttered. “The bone-fires, the

  solstice!” He whirled around and bolted back out the door

  and down the stairs.

  Earlier, the evening had been warm and still, the

  sky sprinkled with stars. But now Andrew felt a breeze

  toying with his hair as he crossed the bailey on his way

  to the gate. The peasants’ fire, high and bright and

  crackling upon a nearby hill, belched sparks as it licked

  the sky. Though he glanced at the blaze and saw many

  people thronged around it, he didn’t head in that

  direction. He knew exactly where to go—to a spot behind

  the postern wall.

  “Judith!” he shouted when he spied her sitting cross-

  legged in the dirt, wearing the tunic and chausses he’d

  first seen her in, with her satchel clutched to her bosom.

  “Judith why are you here?”

  “Andrew!” She gestured, warding him off. But he

  grabbed her hand and clutched it, sitting on the ground

  beside her.

  “You want to return to your own time,” he accused

  her, understanding the truth now. “You want to leave

  me. Judith, why?” In the moonlight, he saw her tears.

  On his face, he felt his own tears.

  “I don’t want to leave you,” she insisted, shaking

  her head. “But I have no choice. I thought I could stay,

  but I can’t. I can’t!”

  “You can.” He came to his feet, crouching, and pulled

  her hand. But she refused to stand, refused to come

  with him. Instead, she wrenched herself free and

  clutched a fistful of grass, as though it would anchor

  her to the earth.

  “I can’t,” she said again. “I don’t belong here, Andrew.

  I tried to make it work, for your sake and mine, but

  everything’s going wrong. I’m losing my sense of self,

  and if I’m not the woman I was anymore, I won’t be the

  woman you love.” She tilted her chin and blinked up at

  him, raising her voice to be heard over the noise of the

  nearby revelers. “I couldn’t bear to watch you fall out of

  love with me!”

  The wind gusted. It blew Judith’s short hair away

  from her face and then back into it. For a moment, the

  world grew darker as a cloud scuttled across the moon.

  “Ne’er would I not love you! For all my days, you’re

  in my heart!” he insisted. He fought a wave of panic

  with a surge of fury.

  “I’m not going to argue with you, Andrew!” Judith

  shouted, for despite their proximity, the wind had begun

  to roar and tear at the trees. “If I can make it, I’m leaving

  here. God willing, I’ll return to a time and a place that I

  belong.”

  “No!”

  “Oh, Andrew, please!” she begged. “I have to leave, I

  don’t have any choice! Just—just remember me. The

  way I was, and how happy we were together. And find

  someone else to be that happy with again. Forever!”


  He opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by a

  sudden awareness that the earth beneath him quivered,

  pulsing with an energy like the heat of the sun. Fearful,

  he again tried to drag Judith away, nearer the shelter

  of the wall. But she resisted, catching him by surprise

  with a purposeful shove. He lost his balance, fell and

  rolled.

  Debris blew into his eyes, so for a moment, he saw

  nothing. But he heard her voice above the din: “I love

  you, Andrew Laycock!”

  “I love you,” he returned, unsure he’d spoken aloud

  as he scrabbled back onto his hands and knees, looking

  for Judith.

  She had gone. He was alone.

  Twenty-four

  Judy came to under a marbled gray sky. Since birds

  chirped in the trees, she sensed dawn was drawing

  near. That was all she sensed. Afraid to look around to

  see if her surroundings had changed, she didn’t have a

  clue as to the time or the place.

  Her chest felt like a chasm of despair. She had

  sacrificed so much. If her attempt to fly through time

  again had failed, Andrew would probably reject her for

  trying to leave him, for wanting to go. If, however, she’d

  succeeded, the next fifty or sixty years were going to

  prove agonizingly long, without him to live with and to

  love.

  Andrew wouldn’t have left me out here all night, not if

  were still there, in the 13th Century.

  That thought jolted Judy upright. Before she lost her

  nerve, she turned to glimpse the castle wall. The oily

  shadows were dissipating with the rising sun, but she

  saw no wall—only stones, low and jagged, a ragged ruin

  of what had once been a tall, solid rampart.

  Her breathing came in harsh little gasps, and she

  could feel her heart pounding. By God, she’d done it!

  She’d come home!

  But what if she hadn’t? What if it were another

  decade, or even another century, either long before or

  after her own? She would have lost everything then.

  Not only Andrew, but her life, her career, and her family.

  The sky grew opalescent, lighter and more blue.

  Anxiously, Judy looked all around, not only at the

  remains of the keep behind her, but at the hills before

  her. Below, nestled within those low, rolling hills, she

  spied Wixcomb, all quaint and charming, just the sort

  of place people would visit to stay at an ancient old inn.

  Hope surged in Judy’s breast, but she tempered it

  with rational logic. It might be 1910 or 2150, she didn’t

  know. She couldn’t count on anything. She would only

  learn the truth if she got to her feet and hiked down the

  hills to the manor house. But apprehension held her in

  place. Not knowing for certain seemed far better than

  knowing for a fact she had aimed wrong and landed

  elsewhere in time. How did she know if her fervent

  thoughts last night, as the wind picked up and the

  starlight disappeared, had directed her to All Saints Day

  in 1998? God knew, she hadn’t been able to concentrate

  as she’d left Andrew behind.

  She hugged herself, though not because she felt

  chilled. In fact, the temperature seemed rather warm

  for autumn in England. Alert, she glanced around again.

  Tall grass grew in the meadows where sheep grazed

  lazily. The trees appeared heavy with bright green

  leaves.

  She felt a sharp pain pierce her heart. She had

  missed the mark. This wasn’t her time after all. I’ve

  lost it! My God, I’ve lost everything!

  Dreading confirmation of her fears, she remained

  where she sat, clinging to her tote. Her tooth hurt again,

  though not as badly as in previous days. Maybe that black

  alder concoction had helped, after all. Hopefully, no

  matter what the year, she’d dropped herself down into

  an era where at least there were dentists.

  Movement caught Judy’s eye. It wasn’t the sheep.

  No, it was a dog, a pair of dogs—liver and white spaniels,

  bounding up the hills toward her from the direction of

  town. And a man! A hiker, it seemed, wearing khaki

  shorts, tan boots, white crew socks, and a baseball cap.

  Judy couldn’t make out the insignia on the cap, but as

  he drew closer, she saw that his white T-shirt bore the

  distinctive logo of a Hard Rock Cafe.

  “Thank you, God,” she muttered, realizing she’d

  returned to a time somehow close to her own. Heck, if

  she’d landed early, she would make sure to snatch up

  some Microsoft stock, Judy thought wildly, hoping to beat

  back that keen sense of loss still gnawing at her. How

  would getting rich ever compensate for losing Andrew?

  Dabbing at her eyes because tears blurred her

  vision, Judy peered at the man approaching. Did he...?

  Yes. He wore a Cleveland Indians cap! He had to be

  Viscount Laycock.

  She scrambled onto her knees, sitting back on her

  calves. And he broke into a run, the dogs romping before

  him and reaching Judy first.

  “Duke? Duchess? Is that who you are?” she asked

  the hounds, scratching their ears and deciding to

  become a dog person after all.

  Then she looked up at the fellow who’d stopped

  abruptly a couple feet away. “Lord Laycock, I’ve never

  been so glad to see anyone in my life,” she admitted. “I

  was afraid I—I’d missed...that I’d get stuck...Then I

  thought maybe I dreamed—Have I been gone very long?

  ‘Cause I—I feel that I have been. I met someone, and

  we...well, maybe I didn’t. I just don’t know anymore.”

  She knew she was babbling like a nut case. Dropping

  her head, she covered her face with her hand, trying to

  get a grip. It seemed doubtful she ever would. How could

  she be so happy yet so miserable, so glad to be in her

  own time yet so lonely without her husband?

  “Here.” Stiffly, Laycock thrust his upturned hand

  beneath her face. In his palm lay two tiny, yellow pills.

  “For your pain.”

  “What?” Confused, she looked up at him again. The

  guy hadn’t changed a bit, or had he? His shades were

  dark, not amber, his cap looked new. And was there a

  bit more gray in his sideburns?

  “They’re from my dentist. Wash them down with

  this.” He handed her a plastic water bottle.

  Bemused, Judy took the pills and popped them into

  her mouth. As she swallowed them down with a squirt

  of water, she had the most curious sensation that the

  viscount’s hand seemed familiar to her touch. Oh, no.

  Not more weirdness. I can’t take anymore weirdness. And

  I sure as heck am not acquainted with Viscount Laycock’s

  hands!

  “You always come this prepared?” she asked lightly

  with a smile, attempting to sound normal under these

  exceptional circumstances. “Because it just so happens,

  I have a major toothache.”

  “I was aware your tooth pained you sorely, Judith.”

  Her heart stopped. Th
e world did, too, for an instant.

  Even the birds stopped chirping, and the sheep stopped

  bleating. “An...drew?”

  “Aye. Aye!” He fell to his knees as he threw off his

  cap and yanked away his sunglasses. She saw the tears

  streaming down his cheeks just before he grabbed her,

  held her, and began kissing her face a hundred times.

  Yet all those kisses weren’t enough. She wanted more.

  “Andrew? Andrew, how can it be you?” she demanded,

  afraid to believe what she saw, what she felt. He couldn’t

  be here, he couldn’t, not like this, not in shorts and a

  Hard Rock T-shirt! “While I flew through time, were you

  reincarnated or something into Carla’s Lord Laycock?”

  “Nay, wench.” He held Judy’s face in his hands and

  looked at her lovingly, adoringly, as he shook his head.

  “I am Carla’s Lord Laycock—and your husband, too.”

  She took a deep breath, peering back at him. “But

  you’re older, Andrew. You were older than me when I

  first met you, and younger back then, back when we

  were in your time.”

  “Indeed. I’m thirty-six.”

  “What!”

  “Do you want the whole story immediately, or would

  you prefer to go to the inn?”

  “I want to rip off your clothes and make mad,

  passionate love to you. But you’d better explain

  everything right now. I’m pretty shaken up, actually,

  and incredibly confused.”

  Andrew drew Judy onto his lap and held her close.

  “When you left on that summer solstice,” he began, “I

  was furious with you. I told myself I hated you more

  than I ever did Chandra. For months, I sulked and

  brooded, or picked fights with strangers and family alike.

  But in time, I overcame my pain and anger. Gradually,

  I came to understand that despite our love, you couldn’t

  live in my time because you had no purpose there. You’d

  been afraid you would become someone I couldn’t love

  anymore.”

  “Judith,” he continued, “I realized that I needed you

  beside me, or else I would be lost. Of course, I’d have

  been pleased had you stayed with me in the year we

  originally met, when I remained surrounded by all that

  was familiar to me. I didn’t care,” he said with a smile,

  “if you had blonde hair or dark, glossy lips or painted

  toenails.”

  “You don’t think I left because of that!”

 

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