Knight Moves: Merriweather Sisters Time Travel (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 2)

by Cynthia Luhrs

  Ever so slowly, he leaned in, the tension in the room so real it was like another person standing next to her taking up all the space. A loud bang and the sound of booted feet running down the stairs made him jerk back. Melinda put her palms to her face.

  He’d almost kissed her.

  And she’d wanted him to.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Melinda woke in the morning to find herself curled up to James, his arm wrapped around her. She didn’t move, simply looked at him. In his arms she felt safe and secure. Cherished.

  She whispered, “Boy oh boy, you’re in big trouble. You’re falling for him. Hard.”

  At home everything moved faster. Dating happened at a much faster pace. Here, though, everything was slower. It was a nice change. To really get to know someone before taking things to the next level. Happiness bloomed within her. He’d almost kissed her last night. Did he feel the same?

  She sat up in bed, the covers slipping from her shoulders. The chemise was modest enough. James slept in his shirt. And nothing else. She’d tried not to think about that as she’d fallen asleep last night. Maybe just a tiny peek. As she lifted the covers, he spoke. He startled her so badly, she almost fell out of bed.

  “Is that a pagan mark on your shoulder?” The blasted man was looking at her as if he knew exactly what she’d been about to do.

  “The innkeeper’s wife asked me the same thing last night. It’s not a pagan mark. It’s called a tattoo. In my time, lots of people have them. Of all kinds of different things. Whatever is important to them, I guess. I have two.”

  When he sat up, his shirt gaped open. Melinda caught a glimpse of numerous scars running across his chest. How many other marks did he have on his body? When he climbed into bed last night, she’d sucked in a breath at all the old and new scars on his legs. The man was a warrior and had the marks to show for it.

  He looked intrigued. “’Tis the sun.” He reached out, tracing the tattoo, his touch like the warmth of the sun against her skin.

  “What is the other mark? Where is it?”

  She turned to face him, placing a hand on her left hipbone.

  “The other one is here. It’s a quote from one of my favorite childhood books, Through the Looking Glass. It says, ‘Sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.’”

  “You have writing on your body? Why?”

  Melinda had never explained the tattoo to anyone. No one blinked an eye at the beach when she wore a bikini and the writing showed. They’d become commonplace enough that no one really paid attention. And in her experience, most people were too self-absorbed to notice.

  “My parents died in a boating accident when I was twelve. My aunt raised us. Losing your parents at a young age changes you.”

  She looked at him. “You know this. When I turned eighteen and was going off to college, I wanted something that said to me I could go on no matter what. No matter how hard things were, I would keep going. The quote from my favorite book stayed with me. I think that’s why I chose it. Because if you believe in the impossible, it makes you think you can do anything.” She grinned. “Like travel through time.”

  James touched her shoulder then ran his hands through her hair.

  “Your hair is like fire.” He picked up the pouch he wore around his waist and dug into it. “Hold out your hand.”

  He dropped a lock of hair into her palm.

  “How did you get this?”

  “The day you arrived on my lands and almost lost your pretty head.”

  “The sword cut that close?”

  “Aye. I picked it up off the ground and have been carrying it around ever since as a knight treasures a token from his lady.”

  Her hand went to her hair. It was so thick she’d never noticed.

  He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her to him. Melinda didn’t know why she expected the kiss to be gentle. It wasn’t. It was a warrior’s kiss, and she felt it all the way to her toes. When he pulled away, she felt adrift at sea.

  With one kiss he’d obliterated every other kiss she’d ever had. It was like a new beginning, a first kiss. She put a finger to her lips. A look of pure male satisfaction filled James’ face.

  And then…the spell surrounding them broke. Melinda didn’t know what had changed, only that James turned away, frowning. He yanked his clothes on, angry for no reason.

  She made a show of gathering her clothes. When she turned around, he was dressed.

  “I’ll send someone to help you dress, lady.”

  Oh. So they were back to lady again. What on earth had she done? Truth rocked her to the core. He believed himself to be a beast. That no one could care for him. He was like one of those women who wouldn’t accept getting older and had so much plastic surgery they ended up looking like an alien. The stubborn idiot wouldn’t believe she cared for him.

  Melinda couldn’t make him see himself through her eyes. He would have to get past his injuries or hide in the shadows for the rest of his life. She was done with trying to change a man. If he wouldn’t let her in, she would let go, find Lucy, and go back home to the life she’d left behind. And forget all about her grumpy knight…

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  James cursed. Why had he kissed Melinda? The man he was before his injuries would’ve kissed her without a second thought. But now—she was polite not to pull away in disgust. Did she regret the kiss?

  For he knew—he’d visited every eligible noble maiden in the realm, and all ran screaming from him or fainted. Women no longer found him pleasing. All his gold would not entice a woman to gaze upon his visage for the rest of her life. James was kissing her, letting her know with one kiss how much he cared. How afraid he was he’d lose her. And then he knew…he cared for this woman claiming to be from the future. Then he caught his reflection in the basin of water. Saw the beast.

  He pulled away, shattering the moment between them. Ever since he woke, he’d been in a foul humor. Grunted at his men and ignored Melinda. How dare the sun shine? Rain would agree with his black mood. They traveled a good distance before stopping for lunch. He’d purchased food from the innkeeper to bring with them on the journey. As they ate and the horses grazed, Melinda brushed her hands off on her dress. She spoke to Renly, not meeting his gaze. She could not bear to look at him.

  “I saw a stream nearby. I want to wash the mud off the bottom of my clothes.”

  His captain looked to him. James nodded grimly.

  “As you wish, lady.”

  During their travel they had not encountered any other travelers. James did not send a guard with her. He sat on a flat rock in the sun and brooded. Feeling sorry for himself.

  Melinda wanted to smack James. He’d been cranky all morning. If he regretted the kiss, he should just say so instead of stomping around. She wanted to ask him, but didn’t want the men to hear. She’d wait until tonight, find a moment to pull him aside and ask him what his problem was.

  The cold water soothed her temper. There was grease on her hands from lunch. She rubbed them with mud from the bank. Once her hands were clean, Melinda squatted down to wet the hem of her cloak and dress in the stream. She sat on a rock and scrubbed the cloth against the stone, repeating until the clothing was as clean as she could manage with water. Since she would be wearing the same clothes for the rest of the way, she wanted to stay as clean as possible. She’d never gone without deodorant at home. With a quick look around to make sure she was alone, Melinda sniffed her pits. Thanks to daily scrubs with water and the rest of the precious lavender soap, she didn’t stink. The new dress would wait until they arrived at Blackford. She didn’t want Lucy to see her looking like something the cat dragged out of the trash.

  Movement caught her eye. There. Across the shallow stream was the most adorable bunny sitting there looking at her. It was brown and plump, with the cutest pink nose. As it turned to hop away, Melinda followed. She knew she had a bit of time. The men would let the horses eat while they finishe
d their meal.

  There were large trees on the right, and on the left shrubbery along the base of the trees. So it would be easy to mark her path. No way she’d get lost, and she wouldn’t go far. The bunny hopped around a corner and Melinda picked up her pace, following along until she came out of the trees into a meadow.

  Magical. As if she’d tumbled down the rabbit hole and landed in the land of faeries.

  The meadow was filled with crocus and bluebells. The first signs of life after winter. The sun turned the meadow into an impressionist painting. There was a grouping of stones almost in the center of the meadow. She made her way there, climbed up, and stretched out on the flat stone, letting the sun warm her. Just a few minutes.

  Melinda opened her eyes. The sun had moved across the sky. Crap on toast. She’d fallen asleep. But for how long? James was going to kill her. They’d be worried and looking for her.

  On the way back, things looked different. The big trees were on the left, but after several hundred yards nothing looked familiar. She retraced her steps and this time turned right.

  “Hell’s bells.” Great. She was hopelessly lost. Why hadn’t she tied her hair ribbons to branches? Because she’d been sure she could find her way. That was Melinda’s problem—she was always sure which way to go.

  Once she and a friend got turned around on vacation in the mountains of Asheville. Her friend, knowing about the Merriweather curse, asked Melinda which way to go. She said right. Three hours later, they realized if they’d turned left they would have been back at the hotel in minutes. When her friend complained, Melinda said, “You know how bad I am with directions.” “Yes,” the friend replied, “but you sounded so sure.”

  Who knew how long she wandered? She looked at the sky. Maybe late afternoon? She could picture the frowns from the men. They would be angry, and she didn’t blame them. It was stupid to go off alone. In the future she’d better take one of the men along, no matter where she went, so she didn’t get lost again. A branch snapped, making her jump. It wasn’t wise to be alone in the woods. That was a lesson she’d learned the hard way.

  Another noise. She scrambled over a fallen tree, digging out the leaves to make a hiding spot when she heard someone clearing their throat.

  “What, pray tell, are you about, mistress?”

  Melinda popped up.

  “Renly. I’m so glad it’s you.”

  She held her hands out in a placating gesture.

  “I’m so sorry. I got lost again. Don’t say it—I should’ve taken one of the men with me. But when I was at the stream, I saw a bunny and followed him. To the most magical place. Come see.”

  Apparently she’d gone in a circle, because Melinda could see the meadow beyond the break in the trees. Renly silently stood beside her. James’ captain took a medallion out of his tunic, kissed it, and walked into the center of the meadow, touching the stones. The expression of awe on his face probably mirrored her own.

  “’Tis a sacred place.”

  They stood quietly, enjoying the feeling of peace in the air.

  “We needs return. Lord Falconburg will be worried.”

  She snorted. “More like furious.”

  “He will understand. ’Tis in your nature.”

  “My nature?”

  “You were given great beauty but no sense of direction.”

  Melinda ignored him. He led her back through the woods, across the stream, and back to the camp.

  “How do you do that?” He looked at her, a question on his face. Before he could answer, she spoke again. “How do you walk so quietly and find your way so easily?”

  Renly looked perplexed. “I would ask the same of you, lady. How do you sound like a herd or horses and end up lost no matter where we travel?”

  “It’s a gift to make perfect men like you feel needed.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. As they walked into the camp, he quit laughing, his hand going to the sword at his hip. He unsheathed the blade, shoving Melinda behind him with his free hand.

  “What?”

  She peered around him and clapped a hand over her mouth. One of the men, the youngest one with red hair, lay on the ground, eyes open and unseeing. Two more of the men sat on the ground, blood on their tunics. Another came stumbling from the woods at the opposite side of the camp.

  “We were attacked. Never heard them. I was taking a piss when I heard a commotion. I chased after them but it was too late.” The man held out his sword to Renly.

  “Kill me, captain. For I have failed. The men took Lord Falconburg.”

  Renly and Melinda swore at the same time. This was all her fault. If she hadn’t followed the bunny or spent so much time in the meadow, then gotten lost, they would’ve been on their way and been long gone before the men came. Now a man was dead because of her.

  “We will camp in the meadow. The spirits will keep us safe. Bring Ben. We will bury him there. It will be dark soon. We cannot search for James tonight. In the morning, we will find him. I swear it, my lady.”

  One of the injured men saw to the horses. Both had suffered cuts and bruises, but nothing fatal. Renly and the other two men carried Ben. At the meadow, Melinda stayed with the horses as they buried the fallen knight. She stood side by side with them around the grave. No one knew what to say, so she recited a prayer she remembered from childhood.

  How many times had James come to her rescue since she’d arrived in medieval England?

  Now it was her turn to save him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Bloody hell. I’ll go find her.” The irksome wench had no sense of direction. Small babes could find their way home easier than Melinda. James never got lost.

  He tracked her through the forest to the stream. The print of her boot told him she’d crossed it. He followed the tracks through the wood. A broken branch showed him her path. There were tracks of a hare. Why would she follow the animal? She couldn’t bear to watch them kill the food the men caught.

  Something in the brush glittered in the light. One of Melinda’s earrings. As James bent down to pick up the jewelry, cold steel met his neck. The blade lifted, forcing him to his feet if he didn’t want to lose his head. His leg trembled but didn’t fail.

  “What have we here? The Red Knight caught off his guard.”

  A group of outlaws surrounded him. James met the gaze of the man who held the blade to his neck. He knew who they were. They lived in a dark wood, preyed on travelers and held nobles and knights for ransom. ’Twas rumored they were led by a man who was once a rich and powerful knight. No one knew who he was.

  James whirled away from the blade, pulling the man toward him. He struck the dolt, gratified to hear the breath whoosh out. The masked outlaw kicked his leg out and James went down hard, taking his opponent with him. He rolled to his feet, striking the whoreson. As the man raised his knife, James leaned in, feeling the cut of steel on his arm as he removed the bandit’s mask.

  He was so taken aback by the man’s face that James missed the fist coming straight for his nose. A loud crunch followed by pain, gushing blood, and the taste of warm metal filling his mouth all told James his nose was broken. Again.

  The man leaned down, picked up the mask, dusted it off on his hose, and shrugged.

  James gaped at him. “Your brothers think you dead.”

  “Everyone thinks I’m dead. I intend to keep it that way.”

  The man before him was renowned. One of five brothers, John Thornton was the second son. According to rumor, he had been caught in bed with the king’s mistress. John escaped death but lost all. His title, lands, and money. The rest of his family suffered heavy fines. Some lost lands and title. But over the years, serving as mercenaries and fighting in tourneys, they regained their wealth and status.

  The man offered his hand. “Mayhap you would care to wear a mask as well?”

  James grunted, slapped John’s hand away, and got to his feet. He wobbled but a moment before standing steady. He would not show weak
ness in front of this man. No matter how his body pained him.

  “Why not tell your brothers you live?”

  “My death keeps them safe. The price on my head is too high. And I will never be welcome at court again. I ask you to keep my secret.”

  “You ask a great deal.”

  “I live in these woods. Ransoming knights and nobles. Killing many. I could kill you as well.”

  James scoffed. “Ransom would be more profitable than killing me. You know I am wealthy.”

  “Some say more so than the king. You will keep my secret.”

  “Pray tell.”

  All the Thornton brothers were arrogant whoresons. James had fought against all of them during battles and tourneys. A fearsome bunch of warriors, and while he would never admit such to the man before him, James respected them, even though they were cousin to his most hated enemy.

  “I know why you hate William Brandon. But your hatred is in vain. I will tell the truth in return for my secret.”

  James knew the story of his family’s massacre. What could this man know James did not? Curiosity filling him, he extended a hand.

  “We have an accord.”

  John shook his hand. “Not so pretty anymore, are you?” He pointed at James’ face. “Who did that to you?”

  James’ leg was trembling, and he knew it would not be long before he found himself on the ground writhing in pain. “’Tis best a tale heard over a drink.”

  John Thornton chuckled. “Where are my manners? And James?”

  A raven cawed above them. As it flew from the tree, a single black feather floated down, landing next to James’ foot.

  John nodded to his men.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?