Forever Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 2)

by Cynthia Luhrs

  The men joined her, calling out insults to each other. Steam rose around the circle as the fire dried their clothes. What had he done with the endless days before she appeared in his life? Robert used to be content being idle all day. Hunting and drinking. But since Elizabeth had shown up, he hadn’t looked at another wench. Hadn’t been interested in a single one. For every time one showed him her ample assets or sat on his lap, all he could see was hair the color of the evening sky and eyes the color of the winter trees. She had turned his life upside down. Made him question his beliefs. Had ruined him for all others.

  No matter how much he fought in the lists or rode, he was restless. As if some part of him were missing. Might Elizabeth be the missing part of his soul?

  Did he have the right to risk her very life because he wanted her? The healer Abigail would have plenty to say about this future girl. She would say he should not have tempted the fates. That they had sent him exactly what he asked for. But he must send her back to ensure nothing happened to her. Forget her to keep her secure. The fates could hang.

  It had started snowing again. Elizabeth rode close to him. “You asked me where I was from? How I ended up in your…chamber?”

  He had asked her many times. Every time she’d refused to answer. Of course, she’d been angry with him or not speaking at all. He would not make her angry again, and he desperately wanted to hear the tale, have her tell him about her time. When she told her story, did he tell her he already knew from whence she came?

  Elizabeth looked at Gavin to find him asleep. She spoke softly. “One of your men told me the year. 1333.”

  He knew what she was going to say, and yet he wanted to tell her not to speak. For saying it out loud would make everything real. And he would be honor bound to help her go back to her own time. Would have to tell her about the others. Let her go.

  Her normally golden skin paled until it matched the winter landscape. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. When he didn’t speak, she fidgeted in the saddle, turning her head to meet his gaze, searching his face. He had to strain to hear her words.

  “I went to sleep one night in November of the year 2016. I woke in the same bed but you were beside me. It took me a while, but I accepted I’d somehow fallen through time.” She looked away and looked back at him, her eyes pleading for him to believe her. “I’m not a witch or a faerie. I’m from the future.”

  “2016. ’Tis a very long time from now. You were in my castle? It still stands in your…future?”

  She nodded. “It does. It’s part of why I was so confused. Even your room looks almost exactly the same. There are small changes to the castle, so at first I didn’t understand what had happened.”

  Robert blew out a breath, making his decision. “When we arrive at Highworth, after all are settled, we will have speech, you and I. There is much to discuss.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Talk about anticlimactic. Robert’s reaction wasn’t all what Elizabeth expected. She thought he’d cross himself. Call her witch. Faerie. Throw her in a medieval insane asylum or back in his dungeon. Anything but act like he actually believed her.

  If she had been given a hundred guesses, no way would she have picked acceptance. Well, he was right about one thing: they certainly did have much to discuss.

  After supper she went to her chamber and found gifts waiting. A cloak so beautiful it looked like it belonged in a museum. Embroidered within an inch of its life. The wool was a deep blue, trimmed with fur, and amongst the embroidery, she touched gems used as flower centers. Who put diamonds on a cloak? There was also a new dress and shoes. Another embroidered ribbon for her hair. The optimist part of her jumped up and down. See, if he truly wanted you to stay with Radford, why would he have gone to the effort and expense of gifts? He does like you.

  As she picked up the cloak, another ribbon fell to the floor. The room started to spin. While she knew it could be coincidence, deep in her heart she knew this was what had brought her back. It was a linen hair ribbon, embroidered with bright pink thread. In the future, the ribbon was little more than a scrap, so worn it was soft as her childhood pillowcase. She ran her fingers over it, marveling at the bright pink thread and stiffness of the fabric. Feeling silly, Elizabeth held it up to her heart, closed her eyes, and wished.

  “Take me home. Where I am meant to be.”

  Eyes closed, she counted to twenty-one then opened them, listening. The room looked the same. Voices from the corridor made her turn. The tall knight with the deep, booming voice called out to Thomas.

  Everything was the same, except she was slightly out of breath. Oh well; perhaps it was all part of the universe’s plan. Living in medieval England would be the adventure of a lifetime. Elizabeth only wished she could tell her parents. They’d be so excited. A snort escaped. Of course, they’d probably try and change history. Righting wrongs as they traveled around the world.

  It took a moment for the sound to register. The same noise she’d heard before. Coming from the corridor. Opening the door, she closed her eyes and listened. It was coming from the same door as before. But this time there was no guard. And no nosy Gavin. The boy was probably shadowing Robert or following Rabbie around. Leaning down, she pressed her ear to the keyhole, listening.

  She’d recognize that deep burr anywhere. In all the time she’d been here, Elizabeth hadn’t run into another Scot. If he was a prisoner and rated a room rather than the dungeon, Robert was going to get a cup of ale poured over his head.

  The man cried out. What if he was hurt? Only one way to find out. The door opened without a sound, surprising her. Last time she’d tried, it had been locked and guarded. A man thrashed in the bed, and from the looks of him he hadn’t shaved in days.

  The words came again. The lines around his mouth tightened, fists clenching at the covers. It was cold in the room, but she could see a fine sheen of sweat covering his face and bare chest, and the skin was flushed. Elizabeth stuck a finger in the bowl of water. Good; it was cold. Dipping the cloth, she ran it across his forehead and face. He snarled in his sleep—Gaelic, if she had to guess.

  She placed a hand on his chest. “You’re safe. No one will harm you.” He tensed and she brushed the black hair back from his face. “I’m here. Let go of the nightmare. I won’t leave you.”

  At the sound of her voice, he stilled. Over and over she dipped the cloth into the water, gently running it over his face and chest, staying close, talking to him in a low voice. Telling him of her life before. How much she missed Darla and Sunshine. Words that meant nothing to him, but the tone was soft and soothing, and that was all that would matter in his fevered dreams.

  Sunshine would have been drooling. He was an incredible specimen of a man. Easily over six feet tall, heavily muscled, with long hair and dark lashes. But was she attracted to him? Nope. Not one tiny bit. Elizabeth appreciated him as she would a sculpture in a gallery, but that was it. She blew a strand of hair out of her face. Was she some kind of glutton for punishment? Her traitorous heart belonged to the little boy who pulled pigtails and told her she looked like a horse or a cow. Elizabeth imagined Robert as a child. Running around, charming all he met. Brandishing a sword. She’d fallen hard. Too bad he couldn’t stand her.

  As she chewed on her lip, a cough made her jump. Dark blue eyes looked up at her.

  “What are ye, then? Angel or devil?” He groaned. “If it’s all the same, I’d rather not end up in hell. Too many enemies waiting.”

  She snatched her hand from his chest, heat flooding her face. He cracked an eye open, and a dimple appeared in the side of his face.

  “I’m neither angel nor devil. My name is Elizabeth.” She gestured to the door. “I’m sorry about coming in without knocking, but I heard you call out. The fever…”

  “Connor. Pleased to meet ye, lady.” He looked to the pitcher. “Might I have a drink?”

  She blinked at him. “You drink the water? I thought it wasn’t good.”

  “Nay, the wa
ter at Highworth is clear and sweet…like you, lady.”

  “Flatterer.” She poured him a cup, licking her lips.

  “The well is deep and clear.” The man chuckled. “Drink your fill, lassie.”

  Elizabeth hadn’t had water since they’d been on the road. It was cool and delicious, reminding her of the well water at Darla’s horse farm back in Kentucky.

  “Oh, that’s good. I’m so glad you told me. I’ve drunk more wine since I’ve been here than I have in my whole life.”

  “You have a strange way of speaking, lass.”

  “I’m not a faerie or a witch. I’m from…far away.”

  “I dinna say you were. But you have an odd manner of speech.”

  “Well, so do you.” His laugh gave way to a wet-sounding cough. She pressed a hand to his forehead. “You should rest.”

  He sat up in bed, the sheet falling to his waist, providing her with a glimpse of an impressive six-pack, deep enough she could probably run her fingers in the ridges. Did Robert have the same six-pack from all the fighting? She’d been so angry when he’d groped her that she couldn’t remember, and it was dark in the chamber. Best not to think about what she couldn’t have.

  “I am a Scot. A mere fever will not keep me abed.”

  She handed him more water. “Whatever you say. If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here? I thought England and Scotland were at war?”

  The man turned his head to the door and settled back in bed, a smirk on his face. This couldn’t be good.

  Robert barged into the room. “Elizabeth. You should not be here.”

  “She couldn’t resist my charming self.” Connor touched her hand. “I think I’ll keep her.”

  “I’m sorry. It sounded like someone needed help, so I came in. The door wasn’t locked.”

  Robert gritted his teeth. “Remove your hand or lose it, Connor.”

  The man winked at her but removed his hand.

  Oh, so now he was jealous. Didn’t it figure? “Connor was telling me why he’s here.”

  Robert made a noise in the back of his throat. “The dolt was injured. I took him in so he wouldn’t die on my steps or bleed on the carpets.”

  “He owed me a debt.”

  “’Tis true.” Robert touched her shoulder. “You must not tell anyone he is here.”

  “Aye. I am a wanted man,” Connor said. “There is a price on my head if you’re in need of gold.”

  “No. If I need any, I’ll just steal Robert’s.” She touched Robert’s arm. “You have my word. I won’t say anything. You’ve been hiding him since I arrived, haven’t you?”

  “He arrived in the dead of night. Other than Thomas…” He looked over his shoulder. “Come in, imp.”

  Gavin circled the room, his eyes never leaving Connor. “He’s big.”

  Elizabeth bit her cheek. If she laughed, Robert would pout.

  “No one else knows he is here. We must keep it that way.” Robert caught Gavin by his tunic. “That means no telling Rabbie or Joan or anyone else.”

  “I won’t tell.” Gavin tentatively approached the bed. Elizabeth watched as he looked Connor over, noticing the interest as the boy took in the man’s muscled chest and abs. Robert caught her looking and made a face.

  “You should not be undressed in the presence of a lady.”

  Connor arched a brow. “I find her company most pleasing. Perhaps she prefers me to you.”

  Robert snorted. “Do not drool on her.”

  “I have imposed on you overlong. I should go.” Connor shifted in the bed.

  Elizabeth looked to Robert and shook her head. “He can’t. He has a fever.”

  “’Tis nothing.”

  Robert looked out the window. “You cannot leave. It’s snowing. Likely to continue for a while.”

  Connor made a sound in the back of his throat. “I am tired of these four walls, pretty as they may be.”

  “We cannot take the risk.” Robert pursed his lips. “Elizabeth or Gavin may escort you to the battlements.” Then he poked Connor in the stomach. “You have grown fat and soft lazing about. No doubt you will freeze your arse off, tumble over the walls, and leave us in peace.”

  “This is how he shows affection,” Connor told her, looking insulted. “We Scots are a hardy bunch, and if anyone has run to fat, ’tis you.”

  Elizabeth stood. “That’s it. I’m leaving before the two of you end up brawling on the floor.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Robert left Connor, telling Gavin to stand guard until one of the men came to relieve him. He cursed, knowing he was the one who’d left the door unlocked. He’d been distracted by Elizabeth. The Scot had looked much too interested in her. He felt something within call out, Mine.

  Now she knew about Connor, Robert could make her understand why he had treated her thus. He went in search of her, finding her in the ladies’ solar, looking like she belonged. His heart broke open. She was his. No matter the cost.

  They sat on the floor sorting through thread. He stood in the doorway watching. One day perchance they would have a daughter. Janet was showing her how to embroider.

  “It’s no use. I’m hopeless.” Elizabeth held out a piece of fabric for the girl to see. Janet pointed and shook her head.

  “Easy for you to say—look at your perfect stitches. Mine look like a hedgehog ran all over the fabric.”

  The girl grinned. Robert watched as Elizabeth talked to Janet as if the girl spoke back to her. He crossed one booted foot over the other, arms crossed, as he listened to Elizabeth talk.

  A big orange striped cat strolled into the room as if he owned the place. The cat went to Janet and curled up in the girl’s lap.

  “What did you name him?” Elizabeth paused. “I think he looks like a Tom. What about you?” The child nodded. A small hand tugged at Robert’s arm. He put a finger to his lips.

  “I’m spying.”

  Gavin peered into the room and turned bright red. So it was like that, was it?

  “Where did Janet get a cat? I thought you said no animals in the castle?” The boy scowled. “Other than the rats.”

  “Shh, listen and we will find out.”

  “How many rats has he caught this week?”

  Robert leaned forward to see Janet hold up four fingers.

  Elizabeth sounded suitably impressed. “Four. Already? He’s a prodigious killer, isn’t he?”

  The girl shook her head, her hair bouncing. The grin stretched across Robert’s face. Both women had their hair in—what did Anna call it? A horse’s tail? No, a ponytail.

  Then the traitorous woman leaned close to the girl. “Don’t tell Robert about Tom. We’ll wait until he has dispatched a pile of rats. Then we show him how wonderful Tom is, and of course he’ll let you keep him.”

  The cat purred as the girl stroked the fur.

  “But you might not want to tell him we give Tom a bit of milk for bringing us the bodies.” Elizabeth pursed her lips. “I know: we’ll tell him it’s Tom’s payment.”

  Gavin rolled his eyes at the same time as Robert.

  The two ladies giggled. “You might as well come in, instead of standing in the doorway gaping like a fish on the bank.”

  Gavin ran away, leaving Robert alone. The coward. So he made them both a bow. “I did not know we had a new position at Highworth.”

  Janet turned her face up to him.

  “Head rat catcher.” He pretended not to notice the cat, whom he suspected might be part dog, as large as the beast was. How much milk were they giving him?

  “Would you know of anyone for the job?”

  Janet pointed to the cat.

  “Ah. Tom, is it?”

  She bobbed her head.

  “May he serve Highworth for many years.” Robert squatted down to look the cat in the eyes. One green eye opened. “I better not see loads of kittens come spring.”

  The cat yawned and closed the eye. So much for Robert being the lord of Highworth.

  Elizabeth
had a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling.

  “Perhaps I should acquire a few more cows. Tom looks like he drinks a great deal of milk.”

  That did it—his lady laughed out loud. And the most wondrous thing happened. A tiny gurgle escaped from Janet’s mouth. Elizabeth’s eyes widened.

  “You laughed. Can you say anything?”

  The child screwed up her face in concentration, opened her mouth, and nothing came out. Her face fell.

  Elizabeth leaned over to hug the child, mindful of the cat. “Don’t worry. I know you’ll be talking soon.”

  Tom’s tail twitched and he bolted off the girl’s lap. They heard a squeak, and a fat, dead rat was deposited at Robert’s feet.

  He reached down to stroke the beast. “How about a fish for dinner?”

  The cat rubbed against his legs and stalked out of the room, the child close behind.

  “Can you believe Janet laughed?” Elizabeth’s cheeks were pink, her eyes sparkled, and he thought he’d never seen such a beautiful woman in all his score and five years.

  “Where did the cat come from?”

  “I’ve no idea. He just showed up, following Janet around. We’ve been finding corpses ever since. I’m hoping the rats get the message and leave.”

  “Elizabeth?” He sat on the carpet next to her, stretching his legs out.

  She’d gone still. “Yes?”

  “Connor is wanted by my king. To have him at Highworth is treason. I would end up in the tower. My title, lands, and gold would be confiscated by the crown, and I would be hanged.” He idly fingered the threads Janet left behind. “You would have been left alone with no one to aid you. My brothers would be in the same danger; ’tis why I have refused to see them…why I have treated you ill.”

  “Wait. Connor has been here since I arrived. How did you know I have no one?”

  He did not want to reveal he’d known from the start she was from the future. Not yet. She would be furious, and he liked her happy.

  “You did not ask for your sire and had no servants or clothes with you. I assumed.”