Romance Through the Ages

by Amy Harmon

  * * *

  Faint and dizzy, feeling both sickened and relieved, Gillian put both hands to her face and covered her eyes. After a moment she swallowed, straightened, and hurried forward to wrap her arms around Kellen’s waist. She carefully avoided looking at Sir Royce as she didn’t have the luxury of losing it just then. Maybe later. “Are you hurt?”

  Kellen glanced at his bloody arm, turning it so she could see. “No, love. ’Tis just a small cut.”

  Following his gaze, she winced at the gaping six-inch wound, fat tissue and muscle visible. It wasn’t bleeding as much as she would have thought, but it would need to be stitched. She lifted his undamaged arm and put it around her shoulders, more for moral support than anything, and he winced.

  “Oh, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

  Kellen pressed his arm against his side. “My ribs ache like the devil, but I’ll live.”

  They staggered through the trees and back toward the castle; Kellen’s injured ribs made him wince when they stumbled. When they moved into the clearing, it was to see Valeric leading Sir Tristan, Sir Owen, and several guards, all of them running fast. Gillian closed her eyes. “Oh, thank goodness.”

  When they reached Kellen, he motioned with his head. “You will find two men splashing about on the river bank. Put them in the dungeon. Also, retrieve Sir Royce.”

  Valeric stopped. “My father?”

  Kellen shook his head. “I’m sorry, lad. It could not be helped. Come with us. I do not want you to see his body.”

  Eyes bright with tears, Valeric glanced toward the trees, swallowed. “Am I to go to the dungeons, as well?”

  Kellen shook his head. “Nay. We will talk of this later.”

  They moved toward the castle, a subdued Valeric following behind and, upon their arrival, the healer was summoned as Gillian urged Kellen to go upstairs and lie in bed.

  He rolled his eyes, headed for his chair in the hall, and demanded some ale. Marissa arranged for food and drink as he told everyone what had happened. His father and Marissa, her ladies, the entire Corbett family, and about ten of his knights listened incredulous and astonished.

  Kellen finished with, “It was Sir Royce who planned my death and coerced Catherine into poisoning me. He also tried to stab Lady Gillian, poison her food, and murdered Frederick. Is that not so, Valeric?”

  Valeric, his face a study in misery, threw himself to the ground at Kellen’s feet. “My lord, I have a confession to make.”

  Kellen grabbed the boy by his shirt and forced him to stand. “Yes, yes. We already know Sir Royce was your sire.”

  “Aye, my lord, but the knife, the poison—

  “’Twas Lord Royce’s doing. It is at an end. Do you understand?”

  The boy searched Kellen’s face and swallowed, relief etched on his young features. “Aye, my lord. Thank you.”

  The healer finally arrived and tsked over Kellen’s injuries. When the man went to stitch the cut on Kellen’s arm, Gillian lunged forward and screeched. “You didn’t wash your hands!”

  Kellen sighed heavily. “Gillian, stand back. I do not wish you to hover.”

  “Just wait a minute, okay?” Gillian ran upstairs and was relieved to see her bags were in the room she’d shared with Marissa. She quickly found the key hanging on one of the gold chains around her neck, opened the padlock on one pack, and retrieved hand cleaner, antibiotic cream, alcohol swabs, and bandages from the first aid kit. She stuffed them in her pockets, snapped the lock into place, and hurried away.

  When she returned to the hall, Kellen’s wound was half stitched.

  “You didn’t wait!”

  The healer snorted. “This isn’t the first wound I’ve tended to, missy.”

  Gillian hovered, feeling helpless, on the verge of tears, and unsure about what to do.

  Lord Hardbrook took her by the arm and led her toward a bench. “Lass, are you all right?”

  She sank down and, feeling breathless and dizzy, raised a trembling hand to rub her forehead. “Fine. Fine. Just a little shaken up, you know?” When she realized she was the center of attention, she flapped a hand in embarrassment. “It’s just not every day that you see… see… ” She sucked in a breath. “I’m just not sure I can do this, after all.”

  The healer finished stitching, and Kellen quickly stood and moved around several of his knights to sit beside her on the bench. He firmly pulled her onto his lap. “You will be all right in a moment.”

  As tears pricked her eyes she realized the last thing she needed or wanted from the injured man was sympathy. It embarrassed her.

  “Shh. Shh.” His arms encircled her, pulling her to his chest. “You can do this. You will.”

  Gillian leaned her head onto his shoulder and sobbed. “What do you want from me?”

  He chuckled and rubbed her back. “I want companionship, laughter, children, you. I want it all, love. I want you to marry me.”

  She noticed he didn’t mention money and she appreciated it. She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and tried to get hold of herself. “Yes,” she nodded, face flushing, feeling everyone watching. “I want those things, too.”

  “I also want to know your name.”

  That made her chuckle. “Gillian Rose Corbett.”

  “Of? Where are you from?”

  She laughed. “Seattle, Washington.”

  Lord Corbett snorted and stepped forward. “Of Corbett Castle, daughter.”

  Gillian lifted her head, her brows knitting as she studied Lord Corbett’s patrician features. The last time she’d seen the man he’d been denouncing her. Now he was claiming her? “I don’t understand.”

  “There is nothing to understand.” Lord Corbett looked around the room at all the wide-eyed family, friends, knights, and servants. “As much as you like to pretend otherwise, and I will say, you have been a most difficult and willful child, you are my daughter and we will have our alliance with Lord Marshall.”

  Lady Corbett, her beautiful face serene and confident, stepped forward to stand beside her husband. “Yes, child. No more of this dissembling. You will claim us as we do you. Gillian Rose Corbett of… ” She looked pointedly at Gillian.

  Gillian smiled at Kellen, chuckled, and then looked at Lord and Lady Corbett and bowed her head. “Of Corbett Castle.”

  * * *

  After Sir Royce’s body was sent to Royce Castle, Gillian tried to get Kellen to go upstairs to rest, but he wouldn’t let her out of his sight. When she invited Lord and Lady Corbett to her room, he followed.

  He wouldn’t lie on the bed so she forced him to sit, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek for the intense, hungry way he watched her, and then dug her genealogy book out of one of the packs. She set it on the small table beside Kellen and opened it as the Corbetts gathered around.

  “This is a genealogy book. I looked through it to see if I was truly related to the two of you.” She glanced up shyly. “I am.”

  She opened the book to a page near the front and pointed. “See, here’s my name, and here are my parents’ names.” She flipped through until she found Lord and Lady Corbett’s information nearer to the end. “And here you are. See?”

  “The paper is so fine.” Lord Corbett leaned closer. “But the words are difficult to decipher.”

  “Not to me.” She read aloud his entire name, his parents’, and grandparents’ names.

  Lord Corbett pointed. “What is this?” he slid his finger across several black marks on the page.

  Gillian sighed. Trust the man to hone in on the one thing she didn’t want him noticing. “If you must know, they’re death dates. I planned to show you this book at some point, so I crossed them out. Your childrens’ and grandchildrens’, as well. There are just some things a person shouldn’t know.”

  His mouth parted and, after a brief hesitation, he nodded. “Just so.”

  She started turning the pages backward. “See this here? If you follow the names back to the front of the book, you’ll see I’m directly descended from you.�
�� She flipped to the back and showed him the few treasured photos she’d chosen. “These are my parents. This is my brother. Here are some of our other relatives.”

  As Lord and Lady Corbett gaped at the photos, Gillian explained the time travel the best she could. “Father Elliot said the chapel and the cemetery were both blessed by Saint Cuthbert.” She lifted her finger. “My ring has an inscription inside that says Life flows for all time. I don’t know how it works, but somehow I’m able to use this ring to go back and forth between centuries if I’m in the right place.”

  Kellen sucked in a breath. “So the day you were running through the cemetery? You were trying to take me and Amelia back with you?”

  Gillian searched his face, but he didn’t seem angry; he actually looked a bit smug. “Yes.”

  Kellen smiled. “I’d steal you away as well, sweet.”

  As they grinned at each other, Lord Corbett took up where Gillian left off and started turning pages again, his gaze fascinated. He picked up Gillian’s hand and looked at the ring. “’Tis difficult to comprehend. But you are our daughter in truth?”

  Lady Corbett turned to Kellen and she had tears in her eyes.

  “Perhaps this fact might help to right the wrong done against you by our Catherine?”

  Lord Corbett jumped in fast. “Yes. I would like to settle a dowry upon Gillian. Perhaps that would help to heal the past and start a bright new future. A strong alliance.”

  Kellen raised a hand. “That is not necessary.”

  Gillian agreed. “That’s very generous of you, my lord, but my parents left me well provided for.”

  “Left you? Your parents are dead?” asked Lord Corbett.

  “Yes, but they left me a… um… dowry. It’s why I was gone for so long. I had to collect it.”

  Kellen straightened, then winced and rubbed one rib. “A subject we have yet to discuss. I still cannot fathom that you left for money! What if you could not have returned? What then?”

  “Kellen! Stop moving around. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “You are not to leave me again, do you hear?”

  Gillian sighed. “I had a good reason for staying away, you know. It’s a rather large amount of money, thank you very much.”

  “I thought you’d gone forever. I believed I had lost you.”

  “But Marissa said you might be forced to pay a fine to the king—”

  “I’d pay the fine ten times over rather than risk losing you. I am well able to provide for my wife and did not care for being abandoned! I did not need the money half so much as I needed you.”

  Gillian lifted her hands up in the air. “Where is the gratitude? Anyway, do you know how hard it was to leave? To think Edith would have you? If you hadn’t changed the name of the city to Gillian, then I might have left you both to it and been miserable the rest of my life.”

  Kellen shot to his feet. “I knew it! You had no intention of returning, did you? You should never have left me! I could have lost you forever and for what? A blasted dowry I don’t even need!”

  Lord Corbett stepped in. “’Tis her father’s right to provide such.”

  Gillian threw out a hand toward Lord Corbett, palm up. “Thank you! It was my father’s ring that brought me here, and I can’t help but feel that perhaps he even had a hand in all this! Did you think of that? I can’t help but feel he would do everything in his power to see me happy.”

  “Ah. Just so,” said Lord Corbett. “We will leave the two of you to sort it out. But remember, Gillian, we are your parents now. You are not alone and will never be so again. May I keep this for a while?” He indicated the genealogy book. “’Tis not easy to decipher, but it will bring me pleasure to try. And of course the faces are fascinating to look upon.”

  Touched by Lord Corbett’s earnest assurances, Gillian nodded. “Of course. But you probably should keep it to yourselves as everything about it will seem strange to others.”

  “Of course.” Lord Corbett bowed, then quickly scooped up the book. “Thank you.”

  Within moments Gillian and Kellen were alone and she turned to see he was still angry.

  She rolled her eyes. “What?”

  Kellen glared for a moment longer, then sighed and sank back onto the chair. “Changing the name of the town was all I could think to do. I was lost without you. I remembered you telling me it would be named Marshall one day and I thought,” he swallowed, “I thought you might live there.”

  The pain in his words had the tension leaving her body and tears filling her eyes. “So you really do love me?”

  “Aye. With all my heart.”

  Gillian went to him and he quickly pulled her onto his lap and held her tight. “I love you too,” she said. “With everything in me.”

  “If I had not thought to change the name would I have lost you forever?”

  “I doubt it. It spurred me to immediate action, but I’m sure I wouldn’t have lasted a day before I was looking you up in any book I could find. If you hadn’t married Edith, I’d have come back. Maybe I would have, anyway.”

  He looked upset again. He picked up her hand and tugged at the ring. He studied it, fear and loathing on his face. “I wish I could take this from you.”

  Gillian followed his gaze. “I wonder… ” She twisted her finger, forcing the cut to reopen.

  “Gillian!” He clutched her to him with both arms anchoring her tight.

  The skin broke, just a bit, bleeding slightly and the ring slid right off.

  After a shocked silence, Kellen snatched the ring from her and, fisting it inside one hand, stared at her with wide, incredulous eyes.

  She stared back, equally stunned by what she’d just done. She could feel his heart pounding against her arm, her own matching its rhythm.

  He cautiously relaxed his hold on her and when she stayed seated on his lap, let out a pent-up breath.

  Gillian laughed a bit hysterically. “I guess I have to be on holy ground for it to work.”

  “You could not have known that!” He sucked in air and wiped at his brow with his closed fist. “I will be keeping this.” He lifted the fist in front of her face. “You’ll not be getting it back. Ever.”

  “Okay.” Happiness engulfing her, she laughed again. “You look so upset.” She slid a hand behind his neck. “Shall I cheer you up with a few kisses?”

  Kellen wiped at his brow again, looked at her mouth, and chuckled. “Gillian. What am I to do with you?”

  “Love me forever?”

  “I intend to.” He pulled her closer, captured her mouth with his, and neither one of them said another word for a very long time.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  As the guests listened to the singer, Marissa sat at the head table and glanced around the great hall to make sure everything ran smoothly, that every table had been served the fifth course of roasted quail, and that the platters of cheeses, walnuts and tarts were plentiful. She could not help the slight smile that tugged at her lips, and she picked up her cup of spicy mulled wine to hide her satisfaction.

  Her husband reached out and covered her hand with his much larger and warmer one. “Happy?”

  She set her cup down, enjoyed the heat of his skin, the way his touch made her feel, and the fact that her husband knew her so well. Her smile widened as she looked around at the feasting, the tables set up around the hall, the guests laughing and teasing the newlywed couple, and their obvious happiness.

  “Aye, husband. I am.” Everything had gone beautifully. All the hours of planning and preparing had been worth it in the end; the bride and groom, as happy a couple as she’d ever seen.

  Gillian was beautiful in green velvet with peacock feathers at ears, collar, and in her beautiful headpiece and bouquet. How Beatrice had thought of it, Marissa did not know, but the effect was stunning and would no doubt be much copied. Gillian’s groom obviously thought her lovely. He could not seem to take his besotted gaze off her.

  Marissa glanced at her husband, who met her ga
ze and smiled. “It is good to be married,” she said.

  He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Aye, wife, it is.”

  When the singer finished his song, Marissa motioned for the two jugglers to perform then glanced around, hoping the heat in her cheeks was not obvious to all.

  Many had attended, it being midsummer and a goodly time for travel, but Marissa was sure Gillian would be glad when everyone finally left them in peace to enjoy married life.

  Valeric, so obviously happy in his new role as squire in training, offered the happy couple more choice meats and cheeses for their platter, but she wondered that he bothered. She noted that neither the bride nor the groom ate much, but there was much touching, talking, and smiling between them.

  Tristan and Edith were to be married in a sennight and, though the girl was still a bit distant with her future groom, he seemed to be keeping her well entertained as he tried to draw forth her smiles with his chatter.

  She saw Lord Corbett questioning Gillian once more, as he seemed to do at every opportunity. When Gillian had turned to him before the wedding and kissed his cheek and promised to always be a good daughter to him, the man had nigh wept in front of the assembly.

  Of course she could not fault the man. When Kellen had placed the ring upon Gillian’s finger and sworn an oath to be a good and true husband to her, and Gillian had made her own vows in return, the truth and love in their voices had left not a dry eye in the chapel. When he’d kissed her overlong and she had clung to him, everyone, including herself, had cheered.

  She looked at her husband once more. He returned her gaze with a heavy-lidded one of his own that had the heat rising in her cheeks and left her wishing for the feast to be done with.

  Yes. Married life was good indeed.

  * * *

  “Gillian?”

  “Just a minute. I’m looking for something.”