There was no way she was going to be able to get out of the dress by herself. She walked around the room looking at everything, but there was nothing she could find to use as a weapon or to help her escape. With a sigh, she sat in the alcove by the window and leaned her head against the yellow wall. She thought she must’ve dozed off when she heard the lock turn and a woman came bustling in.
“I’m Joan, here to help you prepare for bed, mistress.”
“Thank you. I tried but couldn’t undress by myself.”
The girl smiled and helped Elizabeth undress. She held up the dress, looking it over with a critical eye. “I will clean the stain off the bottom and be back in the morning to help you dress. Is there anything else you require before I leave?”
“Yes, I want to go home. How about you let me slip out the door? No one will know.”
The girl looked horrified. “Nay, I cannot. Lord Highworth has been good to me. He took me in when I was starving. Found a place for my family in the village. I cannot go against him. He has been kind to me. To all of us here.”
Elizabeth recognized unwavering loyalty when she saw it. Nothing she said was going to sway her. So she simply nodded. “Thank you for helping me undress. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The girl left her standing there in her chemise. From the voices, it sounded like there was a guard stationed outside of the door. Thomas had stoked the fire, but it was cold in the room. Climbing into bed, she was restless. And after a while, she swore she heard a noise. Pressing her ear against the wooden door, she strained to hear. A door opened and she heard voices. Not English voices, but what she could have sworn was a Scottish accent. She hadn’t heard one since she’d arrived and knew she hadn’t heard the distinctive accent in the hall earlier. Who was the mystery guest?
Chapter Seventeen
Robert woke to a darkened room, still seeing the faces that haunted his dreams. He knew there would be no more sleep tonight. After pouring a cup of wine, he sat in front of the fire, staring into the flames.
Thomas was right. He could not have known the outcome of his actions. The knowledge did not excuse the carelessness. It had been more than two years since his brother John was returned to the living. When he and his brothers found out John was not dead, but had in fact been living as the infamous bandit of the wood, preying on the rich and giving to the poor, Robert had been overjoyed.
How had time passed so quickly? Robert had been visiting an estate on the coast. There had been hunting and wagering. Drinking and wenching. All of his favorite things. One night, deep in his cups, one of the nobles asked about John. Of what it must have been like to know he was the bandit of the wood. There was grumbling from the nobles who had been relieved of gold and horses at his brother’s hands. The king had pardoned John after a stay in the tower, thanks to Anna. The woman from the future had stood beside his brother, made a life with him.
And being the center of attention, everyone waiting to hear what he knew, Robert boasted. Spoke of all the men, women, and children that had found sanctuary in a small keep on the coast near Scotland. How a few at a time would slip out, making their way to John to find sanctuary behind the walls of Blackmoor Castle.
Robert refilled his cup. So many dead because he could not keep his mouth shut. There had been a woman. He pressed his lips together. There was always a woman. And the night he bedded her, she had told him of the camp. And the keep where she now lived. Like a child with a new sword, he had boasted to all present.
Then, six months ago, Robert found out the price of his actions. The information he shared had been used to slaughter men, women, and children. Nay, not all of them were innocent. But all had gone to the woods looking for sanctuary his brother provided. And when the camp had fallen, they found it again in the keep. Until Robert destroyed them.
The king’s men had hunted them down and killed them. And at another hunting party, the man who had taken the information to court boasted of the outcome. Robert had gone cold upon hearing the news. Guilt festered within him ever since. And he had pushed his family away. Not wanting to see his brothers, afraid they would see the knowledge of the mistake in his eyes. How could he ever look John in the eye again? Tell his brother the people he had tried to keep safe were dead because of Robert?
So he had done the only thing he knew how: pushed everyone away and lost himself in drink and ribaldry. Knowing at some point he must tell John what he had done but unwilling to face his brother. And by not being able to tell John, he could not see Edward or Christian or Henry. For they would be disappointed in him. The terrible consequences of his actions would be forever reflected in their faces. So he hid away at Highworth, making excuses. And he could’ve gone on this way for some time, until Elizabeth appeared in his bed.
He pressed his lips together, remembering the scent of roses. Feeling soft skin next to his and for an instant thinking his wife was beside him in his chamber. A snort escaped. She had been most displeased when he had pulled her close, nuzzling her ear. Her green eyes flashing in anger. The hair the color of the dying sun making him long to wrap each curl around his finger.
Knowing what he did about whence she came, he could not blame her. For somehow she had gone to sleep in her time at Highworth and woken in his bed in the past. It was a small comfort to know his home still stood in the future. What year did she come from? How did it work, the traveling through time? He had heard Anna tell the story, but still wasn’t sure what he believed.
When he retrieved Elizabeth from Radford, he knew he was honor bound to tell her why he had done what he had. Let her know there were those here who might be able to help her. Though her sharp tongue and lively wit would be sorely missed. She had only been here a few days and already he had grown accustomed to her presence. Seeking out her face if only to hear her bellow at him. And now he would have to send her away for a short time. Only to bring her back to Highworth and then find a way to send her to her own time.
Robert did not want Elizabeth to leave. The fates must be laughing at him. He had tempted them one too many times, and this was to be his punishment. To find himself wanting to be close to Elizabeth yet knowing he could not make her his lady.
As the winter sun rose in the sky, the darkness banished by the light, Robert stood and stretched. No matter how much it galled him to lose to Radford, he would do it to keep her safe.
Chapter Eighteen
Warm under the covers, Elizabeth stuck her foot out, testing the temperature. The cold made her dread getting out of bed. Weak sunlight filtered in through the window, casting stripes across her hands. The chemise today had vegetables embroidered all around the neck and hem in a soft pink thread. It was a different feeling, not wearing undergarments. For the first time since puberty, Elizabeth was happy to belong to the small-chested gals club.
Joan bustled into the room. “I brought ye a cup of wine.”
With a groan she slid out of bed, wiggling her toes when they touched the cold stone. The girl had laid out the blue dress minus one suspicious stain on the hem.
“Where do you come from?” Joan stretched out a curl as she brushed Elizabeth’s hair.
“A place called Kentucky. It’s very far away.”
“I’ve never heard of it.” Joan hummed as she worked to pin Elizabeth’s hair up in an elaborate design. She wondered why the girl bothered, since it would be covered up anyway.
“Do all ladies have such hair in your land?”
She thought of all the interesting hair colors she’d seen at home. “A few. My real hair color is brown, like yours. Where I come from, most women color their hair.”
The embroidered cloth now hiding her hair helped keep her head warm, so at least there was that.
“Why do you change your hair?”
“It’s fun.” She turned to smile up at the girl. “What do you do for fun?”
Before Joan could answer, the door swung open and Robert strode in. Of course he didn’t knock. Everything about the man irrita
ted her. From the way he stalked across the room, to the rich timbre of his voice. He glanced at her with a critical eye, as if he somehow found her lacking. While she wasn’t full of herself, Elizabeth knew men found her attractive. So why did he persist in pushing her away? It was almost as if he was purposely trying to make her hate him. But why? Men.
“Is she ready?”
“Aye.”
Joan scrambled to her feet, scurrying out of the room as if the devil himself was after her. Though in this case the devil’s name was Mr. Rude. Otherwise known as Robert, Lord Highworth. A small giggle escaped as Elizabeth almost called him Lord High and Mighty. Talk about being full of oneself.
“The lady is amused?”
She smiled sweetly. “By your face.”
He blinked, unsure if she was insulting him or not.
“I heard voices last night outside my door. Maybe you should rename the place Highworth Prison.”
He gave her sharp look. “One of my men.”
“No. This wasn’t an English voice. He sounded Scottish.”
Robert took a step closer to her, sucking all the oxygen out of the room. While he was rude and arrogant, she had to admit he certainly had the movie star looks down pat. The man could easily grace a Sexiest Man Alive magazine cover. With sun-kissed blond hair and piercing blue eyes, his outer shell was enough to make her swoon. But the fact that he was such a pig kept her upright and immune to the megawatt smile.
“You are mistaken, mistress. You are the only guest who plagues me so. Besides, we are at war with Scotland. Any Scot found in the castle would be put to death. While I would likely be charged with treason.” He looked down, fiddling with the sword at his hip.
She looked at the belt he was wearing. The amount of jewels on the belt would provide lunch for a great many low-income children for a year or two. Who was this guy?
“There are rats in the castle. I’m sure ’tis what you heard last night. Best stay in your chamber so you aren’t bitten.”
“Like the mythical monster rats in the dungeon?” She gave him her best fake yawn. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Elizabeth spotted a smudge of dirt on her forearm. She’d tried to wash the best she could with the rag and basin but must have missed a few spots. The thought of a hot shower made her close her eyes, imagining the heat easing sore muscles. “Any chance I could have a bath? I didn’t see a tub in the bathroom…er…garderobe.”
“There is no time. Come along. I must win the final two wagers to keep you here at Highworth. Though in truth, I should forfeit and be done with you, troublesome lass.”
“These stupid wagers are all your fault. I’m done with you and England. Where I come from, you cannot wager a person. Let me leave so I can go home.”
“’Tis not possible. And you are not in your country; you are in mine. Here you are worth as much to me as a cow. Lord Radford has taken an interest in you. He is a powerful noble with the ear of the king.”
“Did you call me a cow?” Before she exploded, Elizabeth consciously unclenched her fists and took several deep breaths. She’d learned during the years of protesting how to pick her battles. This wasn’t the time or the place to fight with him. She would wait and find another time. Because one thing she knew…no matter what, she was getting back to her own time and leaving this awful place. Wait until she told Sunshine and Darla what had happened to her. Never again would Sunshine ooh and ahh over a knight from another time. It wasn’t romantic and nice in the past; it was filthy, unsafe, and horrible. But it could be nice. Especially if a certain pig decided to be kind.
Shut up, she told the voice in her head.
He opened the door. “Cows do not speak.” The man in the corridor stood to attention as Robert looked her over, tapping his lip. “Nay, I would say you are like a fisherman’s wife, always vexing me.”
“And you are a slimy slug that crawls around the outside of a trash can.” She took his arm. “I’m famished. Since I can’t have a bath, tell me you at least provide breakfast for the prisoners.”
He turned that million-dollar smile on her. “I would never starve such a beauty. I am not a barbarian.”
“Could have fooled me.”
In the hall, he led her to a seat in the middle of one of the tables. The bowl in front of her looked and smelled like oatmeal. One of the men saw her sniffing.
“’Tis porridge.”
“Smells good.”
He grunted and dug in. There was dried fruit, butter, and cream provided to add to the food. She ate, hungry and grateful for the filling meal. There was wine or ale, so she went with the wine. At least it would warm her up. Ever since she’d woken up in the past, she’d been cold. Elizabeth had felt silly wearing the cloak inside, but here in the hall, seated away from the fire, she was grateful and didn’t care who looked at her funny. She pulled the cloak tighter, wishing for a nice, chunky scarf and gloves, or better yet, electric heat. With it this cold inside, she dreaded to think what it must be like outside.
“Come with me, mistress. We’ll go up to the battlements where we can see everything.” Rabbie offered his arm.
Elizabeth brought the cup of wine with her. It wasn’t hot chocolate, but it would have to do.
“Lead on.” The winding steps took them to the very top of the castle.
“The view is spectacular.”
Forest and land, occasionally dotted with small houses, lay before her. No commercial development of any kind. The lack of strip malls was a plus for being in the past. Rabbie sat on the wall, his legs dangling over the edge. She peered over, watching everyone coming and going, the men gathering around as Robert and the frog, as she had come to call Lord Radford after their meeting, prepared to find out who was the better man.
While she looked around, what was wrong with the entire scene finally hit home. While her mind told her she had fallen through time, it was difficult to believe. But looking out over the grounds—there was no paved parking area outside of the castle. No paved roads. No cars. She stood still, listening.
Over the sounds of metal, voices, and animals, she heard nothing but the wind. No modern-day noises. No cars, no horns, no planes in the sky. Not a single ringing cell phone. She’d kept trying to convince herself she truly had landed in the past, but it was the lack of the roads that finally convinced her beyond any doubt. Rabbie caught her arm as she swayed.
“Take care, mistress. My lord would not be pleased if you fell over the edge.” He looked over. “Your head would split open like a melon.”
Boys. Bloodthirsty, no matter the century.
“Thank you for looking after me.” Stepping back, Elizabeth racked her brain. Finding herself trapped in the past meant she needed to know everything she could about this time.
“Excuse me. What’s the date today?” She’d been too afraid of the answer before to ask. Now, accepting she was here, Elizabeth needed to know.
The boy shrugged, more interested in what was going on below. The guard passing by spoke slowly as if she were a rather stupid child.
“’Tis Wednesday, the thirteenth of November.”
“And what is the year?”
The knight and the boy blinked at her, the guard taking a step back, like she had escaped from the funny farm and he wasn’t sure what her next move might be. The man looked over the wall, down at the men assembled below, before looking at her.
“It is the Year of Our Lord 1333.”
She clenched the cup and took a deep gulp, draining the red wine. “Thank you. I guess I forgot.”
They looked unconvinced, but let it go as a shout rose up, drawing their attention. The men were on their horses, the excitement in their voices rising up as they called out, making their choice for the winner. Men shouted, horses’ hooves thundered, and Elizabeth barely paid attention, still stuck on the date. It was 1333. A very long time from 2016. She’d guessed she’d landed in medieval England, but to hear the date out loud, so many things now made sense. Castigating herself for not paying
more attention during history or taking an interest in world news, Elizabeth opened every file cabinet in her brain and rifled through the contents, looking for any scrap of information she might have stored away regarding this time period.
As she was sifting through various tidbits, a shout filled the air. She looked down to see the frog had won the horse race. Robert’s voice carried, clear and deep.
“We have each won a wager, therefore we shall have a third to decide the winner. Would you agree, Radford?”
The man puffed himself up. Elizabeth held in a chuckle as she watched him toddle over. He kind of looked like a frog the way he walked, slightly bobbing up and down and side to side.
“The joust. I will contribute jewels and gold to the purse. The winner takes the girl, horses, jewels, and gold. All.”
“I will match your stake.”
There was an area roped off. Rabbie told her it was the lists, where the men usually practiced swords.
“Thomas is teaching me to fight.” He stood up straight then blushed. She looked to see why, and noticed Joan hurrying across the courtyard.
“Like that, is it?”
The boy looked at her. “Mistress?”
She pointed. “You like Joan.”
“Aye, but she says I am much too young for her.”
Elizabeth touched his arm. “How old is Joan?”
“She is eleven.” He watched the cute girl all way into the hall before turning back to Elizabeth. “I am only ten.”
“One year isn’t anything much. My mom is twelve years older than my dad. Give her time; she’ll come around.”
The smile on Rabbie’s face made her grin. “I will. Joan is the only woman in all the lands for me.”
“You’re young. You could meet lots of other pretty girls,” she teased him.
“Never. There is only Joan.” He looked so certain that it made her momentarily jealous, wishing someone would be as certain of her. To distract herself, Elizabeth pointed to the men below. “Do they do this a lot?”
Forever Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 2) Page 8