"Well then, let's not waste a moment more.” She walked into the back room, her hips swinging from one side to the other with a natural grace that caught Reynold's breath. Reynold gladly followed her into the softly-lit room that highlighted her figure rather than hiding it.
Reynold looked around. There was barely room for two in the sparsely furnished area. Along the wall in front of him was a small counter. On the counter there sat a box with a window in it. There was a light inside it and he could see movement—and he could hear a humming sound. To the left of the entryway stood a small table with two chairs, barely enough room for two people to sit.
Where does the woman sleep? There is no bed to lie upon. Reynold glanced over his shoulder into the shop, thinking he may have missed some indication of a bed.
Ding!
Reynold jumped, drawing his sword. He stood staring at the box, his sword clanking against its side. The light inside it was gone. “Good god, lady! What contraption dost hath?"
"It's a microwave. It runs on electricity and heats up food.” Courtney chuckled. “You can put your sword away; it'll not harm you."
Reynold sheathed his weapon, then reached out to touch the box like a child reaching out as he took his first step.
Microwave? Electricity?
"I hope you don't mind, I just threw something together.” Courtney opened the door of the strange box, pulling a dish from inside it with gloved hands. “I'm not that great of a cook, so I can't promise this will even be worth our trouble. But something's better than nothing."
She placed the dish in the center of the table. “Come and sit down."
Reynold nodded, then pulled out the nearest chair and sat while Courtney dished up his food. “Pray tell, what might this be called?” As long as it's not from the establishment with the court jester on it.
"A mixture of a few things in my cabinets.” She laughed, lifting his hesitation of whether or not to eat it. “I did a little taste test and it's not bad. It won't kill you—that much I know."
Reynold lifted a spoonful to his mouth, relishing the wonderful taste of spiced meat and potatoes. Pulling a slice of bread from the bag, he placed a spoonful on it and stuffed over half the piece in his mouth. He'd never had anything like it before.
"Well, at least you like it."
Courtney sat across from him, her eyes looking into his. He wasn't sure what she saw, but he liked the way her brown eyes turned to the color of dark ale, alive with life.
"Aye, this is much better than the court jester food Thomas brings to me each morn.” Noticing her empty bowl, he pushed his bowl away, realizing he'd eaten most of what she'd prepared for their meal. “Thou must eat."
Laughing sweetly, like a child, she cleared the table of their dishes. “I think you've eaten enough for both of us. And I did sample more than my share before you got here."
Reynold sat back in his chair, watching her move about the small room. Every move she made was in fluid motion, soft and slick. He imagined she'd move against his body in the same way. The gentle way she slid a book from the corner, as she wiped down the table top with long, soft strokes. His manhood responded to his thoughts of her hands gliding around him rather than the table. Then he saw the book clearly.
Heartsease: Life and Times. Astley. This cannot be! Reynold reached over, pulling the book over to him. Before he could lift the cover, a hand slammed down on top of it. All lustful thoughts were gone in a single moment.
* * * *
"No!” Courtney stood there, her hand planted firmly on the book. She'd totally forgotten that she'd left the book in plain sight. She wasn't ready to share it with anyone just yet, especially with a man she thought to be a myth. The same fabled man who energized her dreams of romantic love and riding off into the sunset with her knight on the back of a mighty steed.
"How did you get this book?” Reynold wasn't loosening his hold on her book. His eyes were accusing, obvious suspicion brimming where just moments before there had been appreciation
Her body trembled. How could she tell the man sitting in front of her there were sketches of them on the pages? Most likely there were also stories about those people whom they resembled. She'd wanted to read them before anyone else saw the book. She wanted to come to grips with the knowledge on the pages. It was to be her little secret and now the cat was out of the bag. “Listen, Reynold, I paid a lot of money for this and I'm not about to give it up so easily.” She tugged gently, surprised it slipped from his hands. He shouldn't have given the book over to me so readily—so why did he?
"I'd been told there was only one copy."
She saw that Reynold may have physically given it up, but he kept a close eye on it.
"Does it belong to Thomas?” he asked.
"Thomas? No, what does he have to do with this book?” She couldn't stop shaking. Why in the world would Reynold think Thomas had anything to do with the book? “I don't think he even knows of its existence, let alone cares. Thomas hast never been one to look into the fabled history of Heartsease."
"Is not the surname of Astley imprinted on its binding?” Reynold nodded toward the book she now held pressed to her heart.
Sighing, she conceded, placing the volume back on the table and pushing it to the middle. “Yes. That's not all that's familiar about this book either."
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Courtney pulled her chair closer to Reynold. She flipped to the pages she'd bookmarked, then turned it for Reynold to see.
There in front of both of them, sketched on the pages, were their faces.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 11
Reynold stared at the sketches.
"Catherine.” Her name was a whisper of air off his lips. He turned the page, scanning the writing: “Catherine Ann Astley died of a high fever brought on by the wet winter months in the year of 1491. I believe my cousin died of a heart broken by the spell of black magic. Should my friend Reynold Loddington return as mysteriously as he left, I am sure he will follow in her footsteps. No two people loved each other more."
Reynold stood and turned away from the book.
Catherine, dead! When I get home, Queen Isabel will pay for Catherine's death with her own life—yet why should I wait? Isabel is here—all I have to do is walk into her shop and destroy her as she has Catherine. I will avenge her death without sealing my own.
"I don't believe in reincarnation and past lives, but the likenesses here are uncanny don't you think?” Courtney's hand fell lightly on his, feeling like a feather tossed gently in the breeze.
"I must return to my home. By not being there I show no respect for her death."
With that, Reynold walked out into the darkness enveloping the shop, knowing he had no way of returning to possibly save Catherine. A small hand fell on his arm and the smell of lavender filled his senses.
"I'm sorry, Reynold. That was centuries ago and there's no way to get you back where you believe you belong. Time-travel and reincarnation just don't exist."
Her voice small and soft, she laid her head upon his shoulder. “Heartsease doesn't exist either, except in books like this one. It's a myth like that of King Arthur and Camelot."
"Thou art wrong. Black magic brought me here, and it can return me in like manner.” He turned into the warmth of Courtney's arms, knowing she may be right even if his heart denied it. Only evil could send him back, the kind of evil that didn't exist in her world. He pulled her closer to him, inhaling her very essence. The vanilla scent of her hair mingled with the lavender of her skin, awakening a wild desire.
Lifting her chin with a forefinger, he wiped away a small tear in the corner of her loving doe-brown eyes. Her soft, pink lips swelled, and he sensed it was because of her need for him to take them with his own. The tip of her pink tongue quickly snaked out, taunting him. He claimed the invitation her mouth sent.
She tasted of meat and potatoes. He groaned against her, wanting to devour every morsel of her as he had the dinner she'
d prepared for him. He felt her breasts swell into him, begging him to touch them. He was being led into a dance of seduction that he easily took part in.
He pressed her to him, his hardness feverish against the softness of her belly. His mouth continued to explore her lips, licking and sucking with delirious tenderness and urgency. Lifting her, he pressed her back against the wall, her womanhood hard against his groin.
Moaning softly, Courtney wrapped her legs around his hips. He pressed closer into her, a surge of heat blasting its way through him. As close as their clothing allowed. As close as his dwindling resistance would allow.
Nay, I cannot allow this to happen. I cannot take this Lady as if she were some wench seeking a tumble for the night. I hath come to care too deeply for her too quickly.
"Good god, woman!” His breath coming hard and fast, Reynold held her against the wall, afraid to move another inch. “Thou hast bewitched me.” He whispered the words, kissing her deeply once more, then slowly leaving the warmth the circle of her hips promised him. He held her as she slid down the wall, her feet padding lightly on the wooden floor, the light of lust fading, leaving its shadow in her eyes.
* * * *
Please, please don't let me go. Courtney slid down the wall, her bare feet landing lightly on the wooden plank floor. Her body quivered with hot chills, the ache in her pelvis throbbing with need. She'd almost had her dream come true with a man who thought he was...
Wait! What the hell am I doing? This guy's probably a fugitive from some mental health institute! She slipped out of his arms, her heart beating a thousand beats a second. At once he turned and walked off into the night. Quite possibly she'd just been in the arms of a man about to, about to ... Grrrrrrr! Damn it, why didn't he just stand me up and not come to dinner. Why in the hell did I leave the book out!
Courtney padded softly back into the safety of her back room. On the edge of orgasm, the root of her womanhood silently crying for what could have been unbelievably great. Her head hanging and her thoughts on the man who made her hunger for his touch, she walked over to the opened back door. She leaned in the doorway, the night air cooling the fire dancing on her skin. Her eyes on her bare feet, she stifled a scream rising in her throat. The tips of black pointed shoes were planted in the threshold. She looked up at the intruder.
"Issie! You scared the hell out of me. Just what are you doing here?” The sexual need she'd felt moments ago disappeared into the black emptiness of Issie's eyes.
Issie stepped just inside the back door, her pointed black shoes rocking on their heels. “Long enough to have missed what would have been an interesting floor show."
Thank the gods Reynold had enough sense to stop. “You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"
"I came looking for Thomas.” Issie slithered toward the table. “He promised to look at a wall unit that may be loose. When he didn't show up I thought he might be here.” She looked around.
Hands behind her back, Courtney slowly moved toward the corner of the table, sliding the book along the edge. No way in hell was she about to allow Issie to see her special find. She'd worked too hard and paid too much for it to share it with the likes of Issie Cummings. No, the story of Heartsease was not to be shared with one Isabel Cummings.
"Thomas did not come to assist thee?” Reynold's husky voice broke in between them. He'd silently returned, and stood at the edge of the table nearest the entryway into the shop. Courtney could clearly see the darkness of his eyes sending a message of warning to Issie.
Taking a step back, Issie cleared her throat. “Ah, no. I thought he might have accompanied you for dinner after all."
"He hast not, as thou can plainly see for thyself."
If it were at all possible, Reynold seemed to stand taller. His feet planted firmly on the ground, his six foot five inch stance clearly sent a message Issie understood without question. Her eyes widened, then took on the squint she'd first come in with. The woman definitely understood the message Reynold was sending.
"Well then, I shall leave you to do ... whatever it was you were doing.” Issie backed out of the room, disappearing into the darkness.
The relief flooding Courtney as Reynold closed the door behind Issie gave way to an alarming tingle making its way up her spine. Had she seen the book? Worse, had she seen her pinned against the wall with her legs wrapped around Reynold's waist? Blast! Either way it wouldn't have been good if she got what she came for. Looking for Thomas!
Bull crap.
* * * *
Reynold followed Isabel as she blended into the shadows of the night. As he closed and locked Courtney's door, he pondered on Isabel. Even in this new and strange time he'd found himself in, the woman possessed the power to spread her evilness. Anger had begun to rage through him as he'd stood in the doorway watching Courtney become a frightened little rabbit.
Maybe he shouldn't have made a threatening move toward Issie. Maybe he should've stayed in the shop and let Courtney take care of the situation herself. Maybe he should take that frightened little rabbit in his arms and stroke her softly until she stopped shaking. No, he'd done what his heart told him to do ... defend his woman from danger.
"Whew.” The word simply a shaky puff of air off her lips, Courtney sank into the nearest chair. “I don't know why, but she gives me the creeps."
Reynold's heart bled, watching a sweet woman try to shake off her fear. A woman as beautiful and giving as the Lady Courtney shouldn't have to sit in her own shop afraid of the likes of a queen bent on destroying those she thinks are a threat to her.
"Thou should be aware of her evil. Thou shalt never trust Issie.” He stood close to Courtney, aching to make her feel safe without being too overbearing. For the life of him, he couldn't think what to do to chase the panic from her. Isabel had no call to come here tonight, except for one thing and one thing only ... him.
"Reynold, what am I going to do? I can't take much more of her and the way she just appears out of nowhere.” Her voice reflected the tears Reynold knew were hiding in her eyes. He didn't know why or how, but he knew she was on the verge of breaking. If she did, she'd be easy bait for Isabel.
I would give anything to help this woman, anything at all. I must not allow Issie to take another innocent life because of me. There hast to be—the book!
Reynold pulled up an empty chair in front of Courtney. Taking her hands in his, he gently caressed the tops of them with his thumbs. The tension slowly moved from her into him, where he could control then destroy it.
"M'lady, with thy permission.” With one hand holding hers and the other on top of the book, he looked into her eyes, waiting for her answer. Nodding slightly and lowering her eyes, she gave him all the permission he needed.
Looking through the book, he searched for a sketch of Isabel. If this were truly a publication of Thomas’ book from 1490, then the one penciled drawing showing the four of them at the castle door would surely be there. It would be one step closer to showing Lady Courtney he was who he claimed to be. Isabel was a force to be reckoned with and he had to keep both Courtney and Thomas safe.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 12
Through the lone backroom window, the night sky gave way to the promise of a new day. Courtney stretched, hoping to work the kink out of her back from being curled up in a ball all night long. She swung her legs off the mattress and her feet landed quietly on the cool wood floor. Wrapping a light cotton housecoat around her body, she padded softly across the room. Goosebumps crept along her skin now she was out from under the warmth of a blanket and the nearness of a warm body ... from which she'd done her best to keep her distance. It may be July, but the morning air held a chill from the night's dampness.
She really should have gone home last night instead of sharing the ancient roll-away bed she kept stored in the closet of the shop's backroom. In her heart, she knew she couldn't let Reynold sleep in the barn again; especially not after what had almost happened between t
hem. Between the man himself and the book about Heartsease, she was having a hard time recognizing herself these days.
Who am I really? A woman who believes in fairy tales of knights and castles? Do I take destiny into my own hands, shaping and molding it until it fits just right into my plans?
Plans? What plans? All I do is go through life believing I've no choice in the matter whatsoever, when I do in fact have a choice. I longed to be a seamstress and I am. I've dreamed of the Black Knight of Heartsease and he's here, or so it seems. I chose to allow a mysterious stranger into my bed, as well as my heart, because he claims to be that knight. How much more in control can I be?
Measuring out the flavored coffee, Courtney stood over the counter shaking her head. Mama would say I've lost all my brains ... either that or I'd been sitting on them too long, allowing Reynold sacred privileges. Another part of her mind pushed a cynical attack at her...
Yeah, the ones you wanted to save for that ‘special’ someone. You just didn't learn your lesson the first time around, did ya, Court. But ... but nothing, get the idea and that memory out of your head before it's too late!
The problem was, it was already too late. She'd never allowed a man the liberties she'd given Reynold last night. His touch on her skin felt as familiar as the morning sun kissing the dew off a morning glory. When she'd wrapped her legs around his hips, he'd fit her to perfection as if he belonged there. As if he belonged to her and no one else, just like the book portrayed.
The book, her prized possession, lay wide open to the page Reynold wanted so desperately for her to see and to understand its meaning. The short description of the group of friends from different stations in life who grew up playing and taking care of each other was followed on the next page by a watercolor of four people—two young men and two young women who looked all too familiar to Courtney.
When she'd first seen it her heart sank as quickly as it had begun to soar. The man she'd slept with, whom she thought was daft from hitting his head too hard, could very well be the true Black Knight of Heartsease. Reynold's explanation last night of their relationship with each other as well as with Thomas and Issie rang truer to her heart than she ever could have imagined.
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