Must Love Chainmail

by Angela Quarles

  Over three hours later, she sat with her friends and Robert, drinking coffee around the small table in their room. After the phone call, she’d talked a couple at the hotel into selling their spare clothes, looked up amnesia symptoms, and answered Robert’s questions once he’d gotten over the initial shock.

  “So you two met after your accident?” Traci asked.

  She’d had time to come up with her cover story too. “Yes. He’d been camping nearby, and I wandered into his camp.”

  “And he doesn’t speak English?”

  “No. He’s from a remote village in eastern Brittany.” Her friends wouldn’t know the difference between Gallo French and regular French to know he wasn’t speaking Gallo at all. But they’d heard enough regular French in their lives to know his sounded off.

  Lizbeth had pretty much been drooling over him since they’d arrived, and for the first time ever, Katy had gone all primal with the he’s-mine feelings. “So he can’t understand us?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then I’ll just say it. He’s bloody hot. If I wasn’t with Lawrence… Just sayin’…” At Katy’s stare, she tacked on, “What? He can’t understand us.”

  “Well, I’m single,” Traci said. She gave Robert an appreciative appraisal.

  “What are they saying?” Robert asked in Norman French.

  Her face flushed with heat. “They’re, uh, asking about where you’re from. I told them a region in eastern Brittany.”

  He cocked his head and looked like he was about to protest, but she could just see how this could go, each one asking what the other was saying. “I’ll explain why later. Trust me.”

  “I do, cariad.” His gaze softened.

  She’d been trying to keep her feelings from showing, to give her friends time, but nothing got past Traci. “You guys are…together,” she whispered. “What about Preston?”

  “I…I called him earlier, to let him know I was okay, but also to call off the wedding.” Everyone went still. “Given everything that happened, I couldn’t. I have my memories now…” She cringed at having to use that as an excuse. “But it doesn’t change how I feel and what I learned about myself in the last couple of weeks.”

  Her friends looked between the two of them and were silent long enough that Katy had to resist the urge to squirm in her chair.

  Finally, Traci spoke. “Are you happy?”

  “Yes.” And unlike that day outside the ruins of Castell y Bere, her voice rang with conviction. She’d never been more sure of anything in her life.

  Traci smiled and nodded. “Well, then.”

  “How did Preston take it?” Lizbeth asked.

  “Pretty well, actually. My mother, however, was in hysterics.” Preston’s easy acceptance pretty much summed up their relationship, and that said a lot. “I’m sorry, guys. We’re exhausted, and I’m still trying to adjust to…having my memories back. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  They totally understood and, after promises to meet up in the afternoon for lunch, they finally left them alone.

  God, Robert had been so patient.

  Robert sat in the most comfortable chair he’d ever had grace his hind parts. Outside the window of the inn Kaytee had procured for them, evenly spaced patches of lights—which did not flicker and shone as bright as day—pierced the early evening gloom.

  He was unsure if he yet grasped this future land she’d transported him to, but it was wondrous indeed. He smiled, hitting the lever that popped out a cleverly hidden footrest, and sat back with a sigh.

  From what he could observe in their private chamber, and through the window, this future differed vastly from his. Much cleaner. More people crowded the streets without than he’d ever seen gathered, except at the largest tournament.

  How could he make a life here? Without burdening Kaytee? Would she still have him?

  God’s piss, he felt as helpless as a swaddled babe. He collapsed the chair with a thunk and stood. He had not even the means to provide for her, for at this moment she was out—alone—procuring their evening meal, while he waited in the room for his safety. He, a knight.

  Aye, he’d agreed after much debate, for he needed more time to adjust to the changes without, but it rankled.

  Anything could happen to her out there. Alone. Undefended. She had no weapon with her…

  He ran his hand down the…blue jeans which she’d procured and now clad his legs. He liked them not. Too constricting. Armor was constricting, for certes, but it served a purpose. When not armed for battle, he preferred the looser garments of his period.

  The door opened, and Robert swung around, braced for anything.

  “I got us some roast beef from the pub down the street, along with some carrots and potatoes. I hope you like it.”

  Kaytee’s bright face coming through the door, her soothing voice lilting across the room, eased Robert’s shoulders, and he smiled. Roast beef, he knew, and surely these potatoes she spoke of must be appetizing as well. But carrots? Who would eat such a tiny, purple root?

  But then he frowned at her attire. Everyone out there, the men of this time—all of them—could see her every luscious curve in those blue jeans and snug sweater. He closed his eyes and willed himself to relax. This was her culture, her time. Through the window, he’d observed that most women dressed thusly, or in even more form-revealing attire.

  She set the food on their small table, and Robert pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. Her whole body must have been tense, for she relaxed. When he held her thusly—body to body, breath to breath—he felt centered, grounded, the frightening and noisome and bewildering world of hers disappearing. He wished, upon the surety of his soul, he could hold her and never again let go.

  But then, as if remembering herself, her muscles tightened. Uncertainty lingered in the depths of her eyes.

  “What is it, cariad?” He brushed her hair from her forehead and tucked it behind an ear.

  Her gaze dropped, and she stepped back. No. He would not allow her to retreat. He sensed she needed his touch, his assurance. He brushed his hands over her shoulders.

  “I just…” She locked her gaze with his and stepped into his arms, her hands sliding around him and gripping him tight. She laid her head against his chest. “I’m worried about you. About us. Did I do the right thing? Everything’s been so hectic since we got here last night. I haven’t really had a chance to slow down and find out.”

  He cupped her jaw, holding her against him. In truth, it had been rather trying. Most of their time together, especially when her friends arrived, had been bewildering, especially since he couldn’t follow the conversation. But he used the time to soak in his surroundings. Some items in their chamber were familiar enough, like the plain but amazingly comfortable bed, whose frame was made of white metal. But the chamber’s decorations were odd. The wall was covered in a bright floral design. At first he’d thought it was painted, like walls in his own time, but these were covered in paper. There was a version of a trestle table shoved against the wall, and it was the area in the chamber that had the strangest of all the objects. A large flat, black shield, which she called a television, though he didn’t know what that meant.

  An array of white vessels stood to its side in the smoothest of material, along with one vessel made entirely of precious glass. It was from this that she crafted a bitter drink she called coffee. After a meal shared with her friends in their room earlier, they’d left.

  He held her tighter and nuzzled her ear. “I am well. I am here. I am alive. And I am with you. That is all that matters.”

  Kaytee shuddered. “I was worried you were upset with me. You’ve been rather quiet, and I know all of this is overwhelming. I’ve, well, I’ve just been worried. About you.”

  “Let’s take everything a moment at a time for now. I will adjust. I have faith that I will.”

  She squeezed him, arms wrapped firmly around his waist. “I know you will. Okay, let’s eat while the food’s still hot.”


  Reluctantly, Robert let her go.

  Kaytee sighed and distributed the food. “I wish I could know if everyone bought our story. I really hope there is a crevice somewhere around Castell y Bere big enough for me to have fallen into.”

  “I’m positive there is.”

  “If anyone pokes at our story too much, they’ll find holes. And amnesia? Why couldn’t I have been more creative? I panicked.” She licked gravy from her fingers and settled across from him at their table.

  “I think they’re so relieved to have you returned to them that they will not worry about the details.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She set her knife and fork beside her plate. “Robert, there’s something else I need to tell you. One of the people I called last night, well, it was my fiancé.”

  A cold fear gripped his innards. “You are betrothed?”

  “Not anymore. I couldn’t go through with the wedding, which was to be three weeks from now, and I told him so last night.”

  The tightness in his gut relaxed. He gripped her hand. “I am sorry.” Not truly. “So. That was why you said you couldn’t marry when we first joined. Come here.” He pulled on her hand and coaxed her into his lap. “He’s a fool to let you go so easily. Though it relieves me to hear so.”

  He stroked her face and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. He looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap, inches from his, held loose on her knee. Slowly, he eased his hand across and, with just his pinkie, brushed the tip of her little finger.

  A short chuckle escaped her. Then her pinkie lightly stroked his. And shortly he discovered the wonders of having carnal relations while bathing in a shower. There was much to recommend her time, for certes.

  Three weeks later

  Katy stretched out beside Robert on the picnic blanket. They’d finished eating lunch in the green expanse by the moss-covered remains of Flint Castle, a habit they’d started since arriving back in her time. He’d soon insisted on going outside and interacting, and being near something from his past, no matter how crumbled, helped anchor him as he soaked in the changes and happenings around him. Though it took him aback at first that there was no branch of the Dee running between the town and the castle.

  “I have something to show you.” Katy sat up and pulled out a tissue-wrapped package from her backpack. Carefully, she peeled back the delicate paper to reveal the antique bird carving Robert had carved her and Isabelle had sent her hundreds of years later. Traci had returned it, along with all of her other things, but for some reason, she hadn’t shown him yet.

  His fingers touched it with care. “Your bird. You brought it with you? Why does it look so old?”

  “Actually, no. I left it in our room at the inn when I traveled to Wrexham. I didn’t want to damage it on my harried dash.”

  “So then how…?”

  “I received it as a present from one of my best friends before I traveled back to you. It’s…” her throat closed up with an emotion she couldn’t articulate. “It’s… In no small way, it’s responsible for me finding you. It’s why I went to Wales for my trip. My friend said it reminded her of me, and it held some pull for me too. And then when you presented it to me, that’s when I knew…”

  Robert sat up and cupped her face, his fingers cradling her jaw, and kissed her gently. She lost herself in that kiss. Which he broke too soon.

  “When do you need to return to work?” Robert shifted his head so it rested in her lap.

  She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead and twined her fingers into his hair. “One more week.” She’d worked out a medical leave from her job. All in all, her boss had been very understanding.

  She sighed. “Too soon.”

  “You wish not to work?”

  Katy had explained her job, and Robert had adjusted to her working surprisingly well. His only worry had been what his job could be.

  “I do. It’s just that this time with you here has been almost magical—like stolen time. But I’m…I’m also a little afraid.”

  His head lifted at that. “Afraid? Of what?”

  “Of myself. I’m worried I’ll fall back into old habits and not value what’s happening around me, that I’ll get caught back up in over-planning everything instead of facing—enjoying—life.”

  “I’ll help you.” His eyes held hers, serious, full of love, and her breath caught. It was the first time he’d mentioned anything about the future, about what would happen next. She knew he loved her. He said so every night they made love in their inn. Boy did he love those showers. But she knew how hard his transition had been, and she wanted to give him the space and time he needed to adjust without any pressure from her.

  She smiled and squeezed his hand. “I’d like that.”

  They’d need to talk in more detail about her work and figure out where they went from here—she hoped like hell he still felt the same commitment to her he had in the past. He hadn’t indicated otherwise. She had to make time for that discussion before the week was up, if he didn’t bring it up himself. This was his time to adjust, to learn.

  He’d been an eager student. At night, they watched TV, and sometimes she read while he watched the Welsh language channel. But he’d taken to watching the English channel more and more. He also grew irate at times when he came across movies set in his time that got the history wrong. He’d talk to the TV, saying things like, “We bathed. Why do you think we were all filthy?” or “We had tweezers and scissors. Do they think we were barbarians?” or a muttered, “We drank water if it was clear in color and smell.”

  His English was still minimal, with a charming accent that wasn’t quite French, but he was determined to learn. His eagerness and delight in learning her ways and customs had only made her love him more. They’d taped English words written on strips of paper to all the objects in their room, and every day, he memorized a new sentence to use in daily life. Today it was, “I’ll have another pint.”

  A fresh breeze ruffled the edge of the picnic blanket, and she smoothed back her hair. Robert raised his head and said in English, “I’ll have another…” and he pursed his lips together.

  She laughed. “Kiss?” She traced a finger along his lower lip.

  “Yes. I’ll have another kiss.” He palmed the back of her head and brushed his lips against hers. Nibbled on her lower lip. Having come from a lustier era, Robert had no qualms about PDA, and she loved it. Though he’d been quite pleased with how much more private everything was in her time.

  He pulled away with a last lingering tug on her lower lip. His face grew serious, and he sat up and took her hand.

  She straightened, alert still to his body language. “What is it?”

  “I have something to ask you,” he said in his Norman French. “I don’t have the words in your English.”

  “You can ask me anything,” she whispered, her heart giving a little lurch at his shift in mood.

  He cleared his throat. “We haven’t talked about the future, and I want you to know I appreciate this time you’ve given me to adjust to your world. I also know I don’t have much to offer you. My skills are of another era.” He pulled an object from his pocket, his hands shaking.

  “Katy, I love you. I wish to spend my life with you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She blinked through tears as he opened his palm, revealing a small, hammered silver ring.

  She swallowed hard. “Yes. Yes, I will. I love you, you beast. And I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. How…how did you know to get an engagement ring?”

  He lifted a brow. “From that reality television—is that the right word?—show.”

  She nodded and touched the ring, drawn by its beautiful Celtic knotwork twined around a beautiful, hand-cut diamond. Last week, she’d sold some of his coins and put it on a card for him, explaining how to use it.

  But the band looked too small.

  Funny, she’d always had it in her head what her ideal engagement ring would l
ook like. In fact, she’d worn it until recently, since she’d picked it out for Preston. But now, looking at this gorgeous sparkling silver ring whose loops and swirls came from an ancient heritage, it felt right. Heart full, she smiled up at him. She could get it refitted.

  He gently took her left hand and slid the ring onto her pinkie. “Ah, it fits perfectly, as I knew it would.”

  Katy’s throat closed up as tears welled, her heart swelling. She laughed, surprising even herself with how carefree it sounded.

  “Oh, yes, Robert.” She put her lips to his and murmured against them, “It’s perfect.”

  Epilogue

  …she passed her time pleasant, enjoying honour and friendship. And in the meanwhile, it chanced that she became pregnant, and in due time a son was born unto her, and the name that they gave him was Gwern the son of Matholwch…

  The Mabinogion, an ancient Welsh romance

  Two years later

  “So this is me?” Robert’s amused tones carried through the hushed interior of the little stone church in St. Cefnogwr. “Looks nothing like me.”

  Katy rubbed her finger down the stone nose of his effigy, remembering the last time she’d traced the outline. Awe suffused her. “Doesn’t matter, I was drawn to you regardless. Some part of my soul knew you.”

  She’d tried to explain when she’d first brought him to her time. She’d told him about her dream and how he’d burrowed into her soul before she’d even met him in the flesh. He always smiled and pinched the end of her nose.

  One thing he’d not left to the vagaries of fate, and she’d agreed—the case had brought her the love of her life, but she didn’t want it to interfere again. That was one bit of chaos she was not okay with introducing into her life again. She’d given it to Traci not long after her return, explaining its workings, but so far, Traci hadn’t used it. Though she’d been shocked as hell to hear what had really happened. Along with a triumphant, I knew that amnesia story was bullshit!

  His phone chirruped. “A moment.” He pulled it out. “It’s Greg. A membership question at the institute, but it can wait.”