A Knight to Remember

by Maryse Dawson

  A man of honour and courage. Truly a leader amongst men.

  Tears blurred her vision as she placed her hand flat against the stone, remembering him in all his glory. She could almost smell him, if only she could touch him still. She bowed her head and one of her tears dropped from her face, falling onto the soft earth below.

  Suddenly, she felt a hand cover hers, offering comfort. She looked up, but no one was there...and yet she could feel a hand on hers. Slowly, she turned her hand so her palm was facing towards her, and she felt the hand entwine in hers. It was him! His smell. His presence. Through her tears, she gave a tremulous smile and shivered when she felt his lips cover hers in a feather-light touch.

  "Stephen..." she whispered his name, yearning to hear his voice.

  But it was not to be. The mist swirled and a sudden wind ruffled her hair. She felt her hand grow cool and she knew he'd left her. Slowly, she eased herself up and dried her tears with the back of her hand.

  Today, she would start afresh. She would miss Stephen sorely, but he would remain in her heart forever. She still didn't understand what had happened to her, but she knew it had been real. She just couldn't explain how. With a heavy sigh, she made her way home.

  Over the next few weeks, Seth helped her overcome her loss by frequently taking her out. She hadn't told him about her experience, except to say that she'd had terrible dreams whilst she'd been unconscious. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to tell him in full detail of what had happened to her. She didn't really understand it herself yet. But she did know that she wanted to keep the memories of Sir Stephen deep in her heart, and if she spoke them aloud, she feared it wouldn't seem real anymore.

  She sighed and looked wistfully out of the window whilst memories once again flooded her mind. The saying went that it was better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Perhaps that was true, but whenever she thought of Stephen, her heart ached with a longing she knew could never be fulfilled.

  She shook her head as she tried to clear her thoughts. It was Sunday, and Seth was due round for dinner at any moment. The last thing he'd want to see was her down in the dumps again. She slipped off her apron and began to lay the table.

  After dinner, Seth sipped on his wine and looked at her shrewdly. "You know, you haven't been the same since your fall."

  Jenny didn't deny it. "I know. Those dreams affected me more deeply than I know."

  "I think you need a change. Wait there!"

  Jenny watched, intrigued, whilst he went to the coat stand and searched inside his coat pocket.

  "Ah, here it is!"

  He pushed her plate aside and laid the local newspaper in front of her, pointing his finger at an advert.

  "Look. I saw this and thought you'd be perfect for it."

  "What is it?"

  "Read it!" he commanded, sitting back down. He sipped his wine as he waited to see what she thought.

  "Job vacancy. Personal Secretary for Director of a busy company. Experience essential. 35 hours per week. Salary negotiable."

  Jenny looked up at him. "What're you showing me this for? I've got a job."

  "Yeah, one you detest! You're better than that – apply for this one. It's in Okehampton, so you won't have to travel so far every day, plus the salary is bound to be better than your current job."

  "I don't detest my job. I admit, it's not one that I enjoy so much, but..."

  "Admit it! You hate it!"

  Jenny had been in her current job for six months now, and although she hated to admit it, Seth had a point. She hadn't been able to find anything local, so had taken a typesetting job in nearby Crediton. The boss she worked with was mean-spirited, and her salary wasn't exactly the best. Perhaps Seth was right. What harm was there in applying for another job?

  When she smiled wryly, Seth crowed confidently, "See, I knew I was right! Trust your cousin, Jen. He knows best."

  Jenny picked up her wine glass. "Not always!"

  * * *

  Three weeks later...

  Jenny looked out of the window when her taxi pulled up in front of a very large building. "Is this it?" she asked.

  The taxi driver confirmed that she had arrived at the correct place for her interview – Oakland Holdings. She quickly paid him and stepped out onto the shingle drive.

  As he drove away, she swallowed hard. Now she was finally here, her nerves came to the forefront. The offices looked nice. They were modern and set well back from the small, high street in Okehampton, but did she really want to go through with an interview? She hated being interrogated. Taking a deep breath, she walked up the steps and pressed the intercom.

  After a brief conversation, the buzzer sounded and Jenny pushed open the main door. When she stepped through, a strange thing happened. She felt a sudden rush of warmth pervade her soul – so much so, that she stopped in her tracks.

  She placed a hand to her breast to steady her breathing. How odd. Was she having hot flushes already? Wasn't that meant to happen during the menopause? She was only twenty-two! She felt her forehead. No, her temperature was fine.

  Shaking her head, she decided it must be nerves kicking in. She dreaded job interviews and was always as nervous as hell. Straightening her back, she headed for the reception. An elderly woman greeted her, and after giving the woman her details, she was told to go to the offices on the second floor. They were expecting her.

  As she walked up the wide staircase, she tried to calm her nerves. She didn't even know who she'd be working for. All her letter had said was the time and date of the interview. She reached the top of the stairs, pushed open a set of double glass doors and walked into another, smaller, reception area. There were a few chairs and a coffee table in one corner, a large desk in another and one door opposite. Whilst Jenny wondered what to do, the door suddenly opened and a young woman stepped forward to meet her, closing it behind her.

  "Hello, you must be Jennifer." She held out her hand and Jenny shook it. "I'm Adam's secretary, Hannah. If you'd like to take a seat, I'll let you know when you can go in. He won't be long."

  Jenny thanked her and sat down on one of the comfortable chairs. Hannah went to the desk. Whilst Jenny sat nervously twiddling her fingers, Hannah answered her intercom. She looked up as she replaced the handset. "You can go in now."

  "Thank you." Jenny smoothed down her skirt and headed for the door. She knocked politely and waited.

  "Come in!" The man's voice was deep and strangely familiar. For a moment, Jenny hesitated, her stomach flipping uneasily and then she opened the door slowly. Her jaw dropped and she stood stock still. It was Stephen. But it couldn't be!

  The man stared back at her, smiling. "Hello. You must be Jennifer Peverel! I'm Adam de Bressard."

  She could feel the world around her start to go black and she swayed unsteadily. Suddenly, she felt him by her side, his hand on her elbow.

  "Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

  She looked into his face, identical to the man she'd once loved and her heart ached. "I-I..."

  He gently manoeuvred her to a chair. "Come and sit down. I'll call for some refreshments."

  As she tried to compose herself, Adam called out into reception and asked Hannah to bring some tea and biscuits. He sat back down at his desk and looked at Jenny shrewdly. "I'll bet you skipped breakfast. It's one of the most important meals of the day, and yet so many people don't bother."

  Jenny smiled tremulously, not taking her eyes off his face. She wanted to drink in every detail. His hair was shorter than Stephen's, but his face and beard were identical.

  "Do we know each other?" he asked. He was staring at her with a puzzled look. "You seem so familiar."

  Jenny stared at him. His voice, his face – everything was as she remembered! Realising he was waiting for an answer, she finally found her voice. "No. I don't think we've met before." How could they have? What was she thinking? But he was a 'de Bressard' – he had to be related to Sir Stephen somewhere along the lin
e.

  "Funny. You must remind me of someone else." He shook his head, clearly puzzled. There was a brief knock on the door and Hannah entered with a tray of tea.

  When she'd gone, Adam poured Jenny a cup of tea and handed it to her. "Sugar?"

  Jenny shook her head and accepted the cup. She noted he'd put two biscuits on her saucer. Whilst she sipped her drink, he turned his attention to her résumé and began to leaf through it.

  "Reading this, it seems you left secretarial work for a while. Why was that?" He looked up at her and Jenny found herself staring into a pair of mesmerising eyes. The same pair of eyes she'd left in another time, another era. She swallowed hard and tried to act as normal as she could under the circumstances.

  "I-I just needed a change at the time. I was made redundant from my previous job and so decided to give typesetting a go."

  "And now?"

  Jenny pulled a face. "Well, I can't say it thrills me!"

  His gaze had strayed to her lips and subconsciously, Jenny's hand came up to touch them, remembering Stephen's kisses.

  He asked her several more questions and told her what the new job would entail. Jenny managed to answer them as best she could, but her concentration kept wavering. Having someone so like Stephen, inches from her, was extremely disconcerting.

  "Well, you seem perfectly capable for the job. When can you start?"

  Jenny blinked several times whilst her mind focused on the present. "I've got the job?"

  Adam smiled at her shocked expression. "Yes, Miss Peverel. I think you're just what we're looking for. Your previous references confirm you to be a conscientious employee – hard to come by, these days!" He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together. "So, would you like the job?"

  "Oh, yes! Very much."

  "Perfect. Would two weeks' time be okay for you?"

  "Yes. That'll give me time to give my current company notice."

  He stood up and walked around to her side of the desk, extending his hand to her. "Welcome to the Company, Miss Peverel."

  Jenny stood up and held her hand out. When his large hand closed around hers to shake it, Jenny's heart leapt. His touch awakened feelings in her that she thought she would never feel again. A frisson of excitement rippled through her as she touched his firm hand. She looked up to find Adam frowning and looking at their joined hands as though he, too, could feel the connection.

  Shaking his head slightly, he released her hand. "Are you sure we've never met? I just have the strangest feeling."

  "Maybe we met in another time...who knows?" Jenny smiled and watched his reaction.

  He laughed. "Yes, maybe that's it! Well, Miss Peverel, we'll see you at nine o'clock on the fourteenth. Don't be late!"

  Jenny smiled. "I won't, I promise."

  When she left his office, she realised that her heart felt lighter than it had for weeks. Fate had deemed fit to bring them together somehow. What the future held, she didn't know, but being near to a descendant of Sir Stephen's gave her comfort. With a light step and a smile on her face, she walked back towards home.

  * * *

  Adam de Bressard departed his office shortly after Jenny had left and headed towards his ancestral home: Oaklands Manor. It had been in his family for generations. Situated just outside Okehampton town, it was nestled amongst a copse of trees overlooking the moors. It was very peaceful, and he liked nothing better than to sit and stare at the beauty around him. In winter, it could be a bit bleak but nothing a hearty fire didn't eradicate.

  Once inside, he walked into his study and poured himself a shot of whisky, sipping it slowly. Seeing Jennifer Peverel today had unnerved him slightly. He had felt such a connection with her, and yet he'd never met her before. Or so she'd said.

  Her face looked so familiar to him, though. He loosened his tie and sat down in one of the sumptuous leather chairs, letting his hand drop over the side of the arm.

  His gaze wandered around the room as he took in the rich décor. The room had hardly changed in years, except for an odd repair here and there. He loved old things, a trait he'd inherited from his parents: from the antique furniture to the old paintings adorning the walls, family heirlooms that had been passed down through generations. Suddenly, he caught his breath when one of the portraits grabbed his attention.

  Although it had been on his wall for years, he'd never really studied it. Usually, he never even took notice of them. They were just part of the décor – something that looked nice but had been there so long, he no longer noticed it. But now, with this particular one, he had cause to. The woman staring down at him was identical to the woman who had come into his office today. Although faded with age, he could still see the resemblance.

  That was why she had seemed so familiar to him! He took a large draught of whisky and let the strong liquor slide down his throat whilst he stared at her. She stared back with soft eyes. Her hand was covering the man standing next to her.

  Adam stood up and ventured nearer. The man looked like him! In fact, if he hadn't known better, he would have said it was him! Somewhat perplexed, he studied the strong features: an aqualine nose, dark eyes, same colour hair, even the same neatly-clipped beard. It was as if he was staring at his own reflection!

  The painting was extremely old, medieval, by the look of the attire they were wearing. Underneath, on a small placard were written the names: Sir Stephen de Bressard and Lady Jennifer de Bressard of Okehampton Castle.

  Jennifer? Even her name was the same! What a bizarre coincidence.

  He ran a hand around the back of his neck and massaged his muscles. It had been a long day today; perhaps he was making something out of nothing. After all, Jennifer was a common name. He sighed and finished his drink. As he placed the glass on his desk, he took one last look at the painting before poking his head and deciding he needed an early night.

  That night, strange dreams came to him. Dreams of castles and knights, dark storms and bloody battles. At the centre of it all – Jennifer Peverel.

  He woke up, his heart pounding, his body bathed in a fine sheen of sweat. He threw back the covers and padded barefoot to the window. In his view was Okehampton Castle, just ruins now, but in his dream, it had been complete. It had seemed too real.

  It was looking at that damned painting last night that had done it! And maybe too much rich food just before bed. Running a hand through his hair, he walked to the en-suite bathroom and turned the shower on. As he brushed his teeth, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Somehow, he knew that his destiny lay entwined with Jennifer's. How, he knew not. But one thing was certain: when she walked into his life, everything was changed.

  * * *

  Alone on the hillside, a ghostly figure moved silently inside the ruins of Okehampton Castle. The soft, white morning mist swirled slowly, creeping its way between the stones as the ghost drifted gracefully along with it. The ghost smiled, satisfied that his work was done. His beloved Jenny would once again be part of his family. He had promised he would return and so he had, just in a different guise. He had been waiting seven hundred years to see her again and now, finally, his wish had been realised. A strong wind suddenly blew, ushering the mist away and the ghost knew his time to leave had come. Jenny would be happy with Adam. It had been foretold. Closing his eyes, a smile on his face, he melted into the ruins.

  THE END

  Maryse Dawson

  Maryse Dawson was born in England but now lives in western France with her family. When she's not writing, she spends her time visiting the beaches and surrounding countryside.

  She has always enjoyed reading romances and loves history, so began writing a few years ago to include domestic discipline in her stories.

  You can find Maryse on Facebook at:

  https://www.facebook.com/maryse.dawson.5

  Don’t miss these exciting titles by Maryse Dawson and Blushing Books:

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