Darkest Knight

by Cynthia Luhrs

  Her teeth started to chatter. “I got lost and somehow came through the passageway that brought me here. But there was no one here before the storm.”

  “I can assure you, lady, I have been here a fortnight and this is the first time I have seen one such as you. For I would remember your face.”

  She slowly turned in a circle, peering into the other cells. Each one contained a man. Some looked worse off than others. They looked and smelled very authentic. What was happening? Something was very, very wrong.

  “I’m not sure what you’re doing here, but I have to go.”

  The man peered at her through the close-set bars. He had long blonde hair down to his shoulders and kind brown eyes. Anna sucked in a breath as she got a good look at his face. The guy could rival any movie star in the looks department. Her breath whooshed out and relief flooded through her veins.

  “I must have fallen asleep. You’re filming a movie, aren’t you?” Now it made sense why there would be people here after hours. A rational explanation always made her feel better. She looked around but didn’t see any cameras or any movie-looking people. Had she ruined their shot? Maybe they were on a break.

  The man took a step back. “Are you unwell? I have heard tales of prisoners here who have lost their wits. Perchance you are lost and should go back to your cell, lady.”

  Replaying the words over, making sense of what he said, Anna scowled.

  “I’m not crazy. And I’m certainly not wasting another moment talking to you.” She spun on her heel then faltered. How did she get out? There wasn’t a lighted exit sign anywhere.

  The chuckle she heard infuriated her. Anna rarely lost her temper. She couldn’t remember the last time she was really angry. But something about this man made her furious. She knew she wasn’t much to look at, but did he have to be such a jerk? Making fun of her looks and saying he’d remember her face. And what was up with the “wits” remark? Just because you got lost didn’t mean you were crazy.

  It seemed to be getting warmer. Anna stomped back over and pointed at him through the bars.

  “You listen here: just because I ruined your scene doesn’t mean you don’t have to be such a jerk. It isn’t nice to call someone crazy. I’m having a really bad day.”

  Instead of throwing something, she took a couple of deep breaths and looked to the end of the corridor. There were torches burning on the walls, and as the light flickered she made out another door. It was open.

  At this point she didn’t care if they arrested her for staying in the tower after hours. Or for ruining whatever movie they were shooting down here. Movie stars. Arrogant, good-looking jerks.

  “My apologies, lady,” came the soft voice.

  Why did his voice have to sound so sincere? She stopped.

  He spoke again. “The ring of keys hanging on the wall. Take them and set me free. I will help you find your way back to wherever you need to go. You have my word.”

  The keys hung on an old black iron ring. They looked old, and she had to give the movie people credit. Everything looked authentic. She loved going to the movies. But Anna always refused to watch the behind-the-scenes specials. No sense in ruining the magic. Instead, she liked to believe everything just happened. There was something about knowing how it was done that took all the fun out of it. Made it harder to suspend belief.

  This man sounded like he could help, and given her bad luck so far in trying to find the exit, she could use some help. He might be a spoiled movie star, but she was willing to accept his offer if it got her out and on the way back to her hotel. All she wanted was a bubble bath, a pizza, and a gallon of root beer.

  The keys were heavier than they looked.

  “Wow, I would’ve thought they’d been made of plastic.”

  “Plastic? Lady, you speak strangely.”

  “Whatever.” Anna stuck her tongue out at him. “Keep making fun of me and I’ll leave you here.”

  He hadn’t made a move to open the door. Would the movie people really lock the actors in the cells in between scenes? Maybe it helped them stay in character. Who knew? She didn’t have a clue what went on during the shooting of a flick. Though didn’t the guy in those Lord of the Rings movies sleep with his sword outside during filming? From what she’d read, actors were an odd bunch.

  The first key didn’t fit the lock, so she tried the second and third. The fourth one clicked and turned easily.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever find the right key. You would think they’d all be the same.”

  The door swung open and he put a finger to his lips. “Quiet. We must leave without being heard.”

  Okay, she’d play along. Anna pursed her lips and stood back to let him out. He was really tall. She only came up midway to his chest. Typical movie star—he had the most perfect physique. Muscles in all the right places, and that gorgeous, to-die-for face. And the voice. His voice rasped over her and made her feel all warm and comfy inside. He must be six foot or six foot two. And, of course, he was the total stereotypical blonde god. The kind of man who would never look twice at someone like her.

  A perplexed look on his face, he pointed to the door. “Shall we go, mistress?”

  “Yes, let’s.” She made a face at his back and followed him through the doorway into the gloom.

  Chapter Seven

  Mr. Hollywood led her down the corridor. The man didn’t make a sound. Anna had to give him credit for staying in character. Of course, he was so quiet she almost ran into him when he abruptly stopped. The sound of her breathing seemed loud in the dim corridor. Satisfied with whatever he did or didn’t hear, he reached back and took hold of her hand. His hand was large, the calluses rough against her skin. The heat from his touch traveled up her arm and seemed to warm her from the inside out. It was a surprise to feel the roughness of his palm. Anna hated to stereotype, and here she was assuming he would be getting manicures every week, not doing the kind of labor that gave you permanent calluses. Point to Mr. Hollywood.

  As they moved through the passageways, she occasionally heard the sound of voices and, even more disturbing, plenty of moans and screams. The guy was definitely going out of his way to avoid anyone. Was he really trying to stay in character, or was he some kind of movie set crasher? Rolling her eyes, Anna knew her imagination was getting away with her. Likely the crew was filming in another part of the tower and he didn’t want to ruin the shots. How much did it cost to make a movie here after hours? The insurance costs alone must be astronomical.

  As he led her through an archway, the light glinted on his hair and she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from asking where he got his hair done. Talk about highlights women would fight over. Bet his hairdresser made a fortune.

  Hopelessly lost, Anna followed Mr. Hollywood. At the next door, he put his ear against the scarred wood, listening. Seemingly satisfied, he pushed the door open. The smell of water and something rotten filled her nose. They stood at the top of a set of stone stairs leading down to the water.

  “I know where we are. We’re beneath St. Thomas’s Tower. This is the Traitor’s Gate. You probably studied up on the tower for your role, but did you know this is where they used to bring the prisoners before imprisoning them in the tower? It’s one of the most famous sights here. Can you imagine the feeling of sitting in the boat knowing you were going to be locked up here?”

  Mr. Hollywood looked over his shoulder at her as if she were a silly child.

  “Aye. I know what it is to be locked in the tower. To pay for the privilege. Charged outrageous fees for food and lodging. All while waiting for your head to leave your shoulders. Or mayhap hanged, then drawn and quartered. I have had much time to consider. I would prefer to escape and avoid either choice.”

  “Geez, touchy, aren’t we? Somebody didn’t get a heart drawn on their coffee today.”

  The man ignored her and let out a soft whistle. She heard the sound of oars slapping water as a man in a boat appeared. Mr. Hollywood had a conversation with the man, s
omething about taking him down the Thames. The sound of the gate opening was her cue to go. Guess he was staying in character. Anna turned to make her way out of the tower. It was dark. How long had she been inside?

  “Thank you for showing me the way out. I have to get back to my hotel, not to mention I’m starving.”

  His response was lost in the noise. She heard the sound of footsteps and what sounded like metal scraping against metal. When she turned around to look, Anna’s mouth dropped open. There was a group of five or six men, brandishing swords and running straight for them. They didn’t look plastic.

  Rooted to the spot, she watched as they came closer and closer. The next thing she knew, Anna was no longer touching the ground. Mr. Hollywood swept her up in his arms, climbed in the boat, and they were off down the river. If she were directing, this was where she’d have the hero give the heroine a big smooch. Too bad real life wasn’t like the movies.

  “Wow, that was exciting. But you can stop acting now.”

  The wind blew the right side of her hair up. There was a pinch on the back of her hand. Anna jerked her hand off the side of the boat to see she was bleeding. There was an arrow embedded in the side of boat.

  She wiped the blood on her jeans. At least it was just a scratch. Who used real arrows in a movie? Idiots. “That’s taking things a bit far, don’t you think?”

  Nothing made sense. The feeling that something was horribly wrong came back stronger than ever. As the boat silently slipped through the water, she looked around. Where were the lights? The cars? London looked the same, yet different.

  “You are injured.” A ripping noise shattered the quiet. He’d torn a piece of his shirt and wrapped her hand. “You aided me. You have my thanks, lady. Once we are away, I will take you wherever you needs go. I keep my word.”

  The words were coming out of his mouth, but she was having a hard time processing what he was saying. The voice in her head kept screaming she was no longer in present-day London, but she couldn’t believe it. Breathing in shallow gasps, she went over every second. Starting from the moment she found herself locked in the tower.

  The locket. Where was it? Anna checked all her pockets and came up empty. Had she dropped it? She couldn’t have imagined it, could she? When she opened her hand, the scratches on her palm and wrist were still there. She let loose a sigh of relief.

  As much as she wanted to believe the man sitting next to her was an actor, a terrible feeling swept through her. Every explanation she could come up with didn’t ring true. And she realized it was because of the lack of modern-day sights. Streetlights, vehicles, people milling about. Electric light. All missing. Everywhere she looked, the city was basically dark. And what light she could see seemed to come from torches or candles. Not a single rumble of a truck or horn of a car.

  When all else failed, one must believe the most rational explanation. Somehow she had traveled through time.

  Anna didn’t know how long they were in the boat. Her phone was also missing, not that it would have done her any good. It was weird not knowing what time it was. The boatman let them off, and she took Hollywood’s hand and blindly followed him down the dark street.

  The smells reinforced the fact she was no longer in the twenty-first century. She seemed to be watching a movie in which she was one of the characters. Maybe she was in shock or her mind had simply decided to shut down, unable to deal with what was happening. As Anna stepped in a big pile of poop, she smelled horses. The guy led her to some kind of rickety-looking stable. Coins clinked together, a man with no teeth grinned at her, and her feet left the ground again as he lifted her up on a horse. He settled in behind her and they rode off into the night.

  After what seemed like hours, the fog in her brain started to clear.

  “Why were you…in the tower?”

  He started as if he’d forgotten she was sitting right in front of him. The warmth of his body against her back made her drowsy. Anna had the sensation of not be rooted to the earth. That any moment the fragile string would snap and she would float off into the clouds.

  “I stand accused of treason. Of speaking against my king.”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “Where I come from, half the country would be imprisoned.”

  He chuckled then exhaled sharply. His thighs clenched as he shifted positions.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Broken rib, courtesy of the king’s soldiers. Never fear, lass. I’m on the mend.”

  The ease with which he rode, the inflection of his words, the accent, and what sounded like some kind of French before he realized she didn’t speak French and switched to English. Not to mention his clothing…all those things added up and reinforced the fact she had somehow traveled back in time.

  The only question was when. He already thought she was some kind of escaped lunatic. She had to tread carefully. This man was her only connection to this world. And Anna needed him. There was no way she could stay in the past. She had serious obligations waiting for her. The well-being of her dad was at stake.

  While she was on vacation her friends were checking in on her dad. Her first vacation in five years. Why had she let Hattie talk her into going? She should’ve stayed put. Her dad needed her. She quickly calculated in her head. The fees at the memory care facility were paid through the next month. But after that… If she wasn’t back by then, her dad’s fees would be due, and without her there to cover them, he wouldn’t be able to stay at the facility. No matter what, she had to get back. Panic welled up inside her. The man’s hand touched her shoulder.

  “Do not fear me.” He patted her hard enough on the back to make her almost fall off the horse.

  “How about not letting me fall?”

  “I gave my word to keep you safe and to aid you.”

  “You can’t help me. No one can.”

  Chapter Eight

  Henry Thornton, Lord Ravenskirk, stomped up the steps and into his hall. He’d run through every knight and able-bodied man in the castle and still his anger burned bright.

  “Whilst ofttimes pacing, stomping about, and throwing things is helpful, in this situation I don’t think it’s doing any good. I know I don’t feel better.”

  “Are you trying to sound like me? Did you not tell me it isn’t very nice to mock?” He scowled at his wife. Why did Charlotte have to point out what he already knew?

  “My accent is getting better, don’t you think? I’m still working on the fearsome scowl.” She finished arranging the new chairs in his solar.

  He rolled his eyes as he’d learned from his wife. Whilst Henry found it annoying when Charlotte did it, he couldn’t wait to use the look on his brothers, especially proper Edward.

  “The king refused Edward an audience. Lord Denby has his ear and is set to make trouble for all the Thorntons. I still cannot believe James kept the knowledge from me.” Henry snorted. “Robert is the only one who does not yet know John is alive. He is recently returned from his traveling about, and we did not dare trust the news to a message. They are too frequently intercepted. Christian will make the journey to inform him in person. I wish I could be there to see his face. He will likely drink for the next fortnight.”

  Charlotte took his hand, pulling him out of doors, into the sunshine. She didn’t stop until they reached her favorite spot in the gardens. When she pulled him down on the bench, she turned to face him with her serious look.

  “You know why James did not tell you about John. He gave his word.” She sighed. “I wish Robert would find a wife to settle him down. He seems perfectly content to drink and wench for the rest of his life.” She leaned back, tilting her face up to the sunshine.

  Henry was struck again by how lucky he was to have found her. He would never admit it, but he believed the fates had sent her from the future just for him. And every day he gave thanks she was by his side.

  “Robert will one day find his match. Too bad there aren’t any more of you. I think a future girl would be the one to make him change his i
dle ways.”

  She laughed. “I’d like to see the look on his face when he meets a girl that doesn’t swoon over the infamous Thornton looks and charm.”

  “But I am the handsomest of them all.”

  “Of course you are, husband.” Her look turned grave. “You would have made the same choice as John. I’m sure he believed it was the best way to keep all of you safe. From what you told me, all that your family lost…can you not understand why he would make the choice he did?”

  He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. “Aye. But I have missed him. I would have done all in my power to procure his pardon.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sure he knew. It was probably part of the reason he chose to live the life he has. Think how much he missed all of you. Knowing you all were alive and well and he couldn’t see you. When you see him, you can ask him why yourself.”

  To see his brother John after so long…the thought made Henry weak in the knees. The old king was dead. It was past time for John to come home. Rejoin the world of the living. Charlotte’s sisters, Lucy and Melinda, were married to two of the most powerful men in England. Well, beside the Thorntons. Between the six of them, surely they could come up with a way to aid John?

  They had to. For if they did not, his brother would die a traitor’s death.

  For the first time in his score and eight years, Henry was grateful for the war with Scotland. For war meant the king would be in need of men and gold, both of which the Thorntons had plenty to spare.

  “If the king refuses to pardon John, I will ally with Scotland.”

  Charlotte turned him in surprise. “Would you truly?”

  He shook his head. “Nay. But it does make me feel better to say so.”

  She held him tight. “I have never seen such devious minds as you and your brothers and my sister’s husbands. Not to mention my sisters and I. Between all of us, we will come up with a plan to save John.”