A Knight to Remember: Merriweather Sisters Time Travel (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 1)

by Cynthia Luhrs

Did this dress belong to a hooker? Holding it out to examine the garment, Lucy frowned. There was some kind of undergarment, a chemise, she guessed. Then a shapeless dress that went over her head, though someone had cut the neckline to show off their assets. Considerable assets, from the way the dress hung. Thank goodness for the yellowish chemise.

  She didn’t have a bra, hadn’t needed one with the wedding gown. This would be the first time since she’d developed breasts that she’d gone without a bra. Thankful she’d only been blessed with a B-cup instead of much larger breasts like her sister Melinda, Lucy shrugged and cinched the belt she’d been provided.

  Albin dropped a pair of shoes in his haste to leave. It didn’t look like it mattered which foot they went on, so she managed the best she could.

  The smell of body odor, perfume and something else she’d rather not dwell on kept making her cough. No way this was going to work.

  Lucy pulled the door open to see Albin sitting at a table in the huge kitchen.

  “Albin. Thank you for the dress. Er, did it come from a hooker?”

  The boy looked at her, a blank expression on his face. “Hooker?”

  He seemed young, but they were in medieval England so he should know what she was talking about. “You know, a woman who is given money in exchange for sex.”

  After a moment, his face brightened.

  “My lord gave me coin to buy your clothing. The wench from the inn in the village sold it to me.” He scrunched up his face. “I think she’s one of the lasses the knights visit when they go into the village. I don’t know if they give her coin.” He blushed again then looked her up and down.

  “She’s much, er, well.” He made cupping motions over his chest. “Larger than you, lady.”

  She grinned. “How old are you?”

  He made her a bow. “I am eight.” Albin stood tall and puffed out his slight chest. “I arrived a few days before Lord Blackford. I was sent to foster with him. He is the most fearsome knight in all the realm. ’Tis most fortunate for me to foster with him.” Pride filled his face, making Lucy smile. She’d always wanted a little brother.

  “You are very grown up for eight.” She plucked the dress away from her body, worried the smell would make her stink again after she felt clean for the first time since arriving here in jolly old England. Old being the key word.

  “It was very nice of you to find me a gown, but I think I must wash it first.”

  The boy’s face fell. “Have I failed you, my lady?”

  She went to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Not at all. You see…my nose is most sensitive, so the lovely perfume the lady wore is too strong.”

  Albin seemed to think about what she said then his face brightened. “You can wash it in the tub, but what will you wear?” He looked scandalized. “You can’t go around without any clothes. ’Tisn’t proper.”

  “I have an idea, but I’ll require your assistance.”

  Chapter Eight

  Lucy hesitated in the kitchen as her stomach rumbled. “I think I missed lunch.”

  The man everyone called Cook turned and scowled, but his tone told her he wasn’t angry. “Come, girl, and take some food. I have bread, cheese and some nice cherries.”

  “I love cherries, thank you.”

  He put the food on a platter, handed it to Albin and then handed her a ceramic jug. “Wine.”

  She smiled at him. “Thank you, Cook. I don’t know your name.”

  The man looked to be in his late fifties, with sparse gray hair and sparkling blue eyes. He had a limp when he walked.

  “Most call me Cook. My name’s Bertram, lady.”

  “Please, call me Lucy.” She turned to Albin. “Why don’t we have lunch together?”

  “Yes, my lady.” He grinned at her and darted for the stairs. Lucy gathered up the garments and the wine then turned to Bertram. “Do you know, is there a pot or cauldron of some sort in Will…er, Lord Blackford’s room? I want to wash the dress Albin brought me.”

  “Aye.” He was busy making something that resembled stew, but she wasn’t sure what kind of meat he was putting into the huge cauldron. Wasn’t certain she wanted to know, either.

  At the top of the stairs, the door to what she’d begun to call her room stood open. In reality it belonged to William. She knew he was sleeping in the room across the hall from her, and wondered if it was as nice as his.

  Albin had cleared the papers and books to one side of the desk. He’d set out the food and stood waiting.

  “Thank you. Let me just get the water boiling and we can eat.”

  The boy darted to the pot and filled it from the pipe. He was stronger than he looked as he carried it over to the fire and set it on the hook to boil. Now she’d seen the pipe, Lucy wondered why she hadn’t noticed it before.

  “Is there any more soap?” He looked at her in alarm then ran out of the room. It had only been a few minutes when he returned holding a whitish-gray lump in his hands.

  “Thank you, Albin. You can put it in the cauldron.”

  The pot was just big enough to hold the dress and chemise. Lucy turned to him. “Could you turn around while I change clothes?”

  The boy looked so embarrassed he ran out of the room, calling out over his shoulder, “I will wait in the hallway until you are dressed.” The door shut and Lucy stripped out of the smelly garments.

  There was nothing else for her to wear. The tattered wedding dress would have to do. She pulled the dress back on, wincing when it ripped again. This time down the side as she wriggled into it. It had shrunk. Barely resisting the urge to swear, Lucy shimmied and pulled until she managed to get the damp dress on and zipped up.

  She looked at herself and started to laugh. Talk about a disaster. She’d make a perfect candidate for one of those reality shows where they make you over.

  Opening the door, Lucy peered into the dim hallway. “There you are. You can come in now.”

  The boy trotted in, took one look at her then made a face before hastily averting his eyes.

  “That bad, is it?”

  He sniffed. “Not for me to say, my lady.”

  At his tone, she almost burst out laughing.

  “You must be starving. I know I am.” She motioned him to a chair. “Let’s eat.”

  The boy came around the table and pulled her chair out. She blinked before sitting down. Somehow in the past few minutes she’d almost forgotten where she was, or rather when. Things were very different now, and she needed to behave as was expected from a lady. There was enough speculation about her as it was. She didn’t need anyone saying she had dreadful manners on top of everything else. The two of them sat and ate, both almost inhaling the food.

  “So, Albin, how long have you been with Lord Blackford?”

  “Been with?” The boy stopped shoveling food in his mouth long enough to look up at her.

  “I mean, how long have you served him?”

  He wiped his mouth. “I haven’t lived here very long, my lady. Lord Blackford was away fighting with the king until he was injured.” He took another bite of bread and chewed, talking with his mouth full. “Did you know he’s one of the greatest warriors in all the realm?”

  Not waiting for a response, he continued brightening to what was obviously a favorite subject.

  “He saved the king’s life—well, the old king. Now his son is king.”

  “King Edward II. How was William injured?”

  Albin looked at her, a thoughtful look on his face. “You call my lord by his given name.”

  “I guess things are a little different where I come from. You were telling me?”

  “He saved the king’s life during battle. A knight killed the king’s horse. The animal fell and three other knights came, raising their swords to kill our king.” The boy paused to make sure he had her full attention.

  “But Lord Blackford drew his blade and ran them through before they could kill the king.” He sat back to make sure she was appropriately impressed then
continued. Albin was a natural storyteller.

  “To show his gratitude, the king awarded my lord Blackford castle. Now he is Lord Blackford. My liege is a most powerful knight.” Albin stuffed a piece of cheese in his mouth, washed it down with the watered-down ale and made a face.

  “When I arrived to foster with my lord, the castle was much as you see it now. Clement arrived mere days before me. He was supposed to make the castle ready for my lord’s return.” He wore such a disdainful look on his face that it took Lucy everything she had not to laugh out loud.

  Albin leaned over the table and lowered his voice. “I think Clement prefers to eat and visit the village wenches rather than overseeing the needs of Blackford.”

  “I believe you’re right. He is rather plump.” Lucy, hoping he would continue. Wanting to find out more about her mysterious benefactor.

  “Did you know there are secret passages here in the castle?”

  “Really? I’d love to see them.”

  The boy looked around as if making sure no one was listening. “I don’t want Clement to find out about them. I do not care overmuch for him.”

  “Your secret is totally safe with me.” She’d get him to show her one of the passages later. Maybe she’d find a clue telling her how to get back home? Not like she could sit around and do nothing.

  Satisfied, he belched and then grinned, looking like a little boy instead of a very young man. “My lord returned a few weeks after I arrived. Then you appeared. Some of the knights think you’re a witch.” He gave her a very serious look. “Are you? Could you turn into a bird and fly away?”

  She burst out laughing. “I’m not a witch, though I think it would be rather fun to turn into a bird and fly high up in the sky.” At that moment, a raven cawed outside, making Albin jump.

  “Really, I’m not a witch.”

  He seemed a bit uncertain, so Lucy gave him her most dazzling smile, hoping to put him at ease.

  “If I were a witch, wouldn’t I conjure new clothes to wear?”

  Albin took a sip of his ale and looked at her curiously. “How did you come to be here, my lady?”

  “I would also like to hear the lady’s answer.” The door opened and the man himself strode in. How long had he been outside the partially open door listening? For the boy wouldn’t dine in the chamber with her unless she left the door partway open. He said it wasn’t proper.

  “The clothing Albin procured was not suitable?” William gestured to the tattered gown she wore as he stood there looking devastatingly handsome. Which told Lucy she needed to stay far, far away from him.

  “I greatly appreciate the clothes. It’s just, well, the woman it came from…let’s say she smelled rather strongly, and I believe she was engaged in one of the oldest professions in the world.”

  A tiny smile appeared in the corner of William’s mouth as Albin worked out what she’d said and made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.

  “I see.” And that was all William said. A man of few words.

  “We were just finishing lunch. Would you care to join us?”

  Albin jumped up to pour William a glass of wine. Her host looked sweaty and dirty, and she could smell sweat and horses about him. It wasn’t unpleasant, just so different from what she was accustomed to.

  William sat down in the other chair with a groan and stretched out his legs.

  “I believe, my lady, you were about to tell us where you are from and how you came to be at Blackford.”

  Lucy had hoped to save this conversation for another time. But by the way they were both looking at her, she had to tell them something. It was always best when lying to stick close to the truth…at least, that was what she’d learned from watching movies and television. America hadn’t been discovered yet. Her stomach lurched at the thought.

  “The land I come from is far away—North Carolina.” She stopped and looked at them to see if William was ready to call for kindling and fire.

  “It’s in the New World.” Both looked perplexed, and she wondered if she were causing all kinds of ripples through history by even saying this much.

  “It’s very far across the sea. A long ways away. In fact, during the voyage, my ship went down in a storm and the next thing I remember was washing up on the shore alone.” So far so good. She took a deep breath and crossed her fingers under the table.

  “I made my way up the coast and saw the castle. It was storming and raining, so hard to see. So you see, I don’t know how I ended up on the battlements. My head is a bit addled.”

  William nodded as if her being addled explained a lot. She wanted to smack him and tell the truth to shock him, but then she’d end up as a crispy marshmallow, and she was rather attached to living, thank you very much.

  “I want nothing more than to go back home. I don’t know if I can.” She wouldn’t cry. There was nothing she could do for Charlotte and Melinda from here, so she would have to stop thinking about them. Being upset all the time wasn’t helping her come up with a plan. Right now, she needed to fit in here until she could find a way back home.

  “My escort on the ship must have drowned.” Was that the best approach? She wasn’t sure, but she went on, “I must go home. My family will think I am dead.”

  “Your escort was this Simon? The man who killed my knight?” William had a look of speculation on his face. He was smart. She’d have to be very careful around him.

  “Simon was my escort.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire ran through her head as she talked. “But he must have drowned during the storm, otherwise he’d be here, right? I don’t know what happened to your knight. Maybe he was struck by lightning?”

  William watched her while Albin sat with his mouth open, hanging on every word.

  “You must have been powerfully afraid, my lady.” He gulped. “I can’t swim.”

  She reached across the table and patted his arm. “I was very scared.”

  William stood. “Albin, run along to the stables and see to my horse.”

  The boy made a hasty bow and scampered from the room.

  “Would you join me for dinner in the hall this evening? The food should be edible.”

  She smiled. “I’d love to.”

  William got up with a wince, making her wonder if he was still injured. He too made her a bow and left the room. “Until tonight.”

  Alone, Lucy decided to explore the room a little bit more. She looked through the documents on the desk but couldn’t read any of them. Opened a book and couldn’t read it either, but she did notice a date on a letter. It was the end of July. So she didn’t come through on the exact same day, but a little over a month later. Not to mention the whole “seven hundred years later” bit.

  Feeling slightly guilty rummaging through William’s things, Lucy bent over the pot simmering on the fire and took a cautious sniff. Not bad. She used a long wooden spoon to lift up the clothes and sniffed again. All she smelled was soap. Happy, she lifted them out dripping. They were too hot to wring out.

  With no idea what to do with the soaking wet and heavy clothing, she spread the items over the chairs, pulling them close to the fire to dry. With any luck they’d be dry by dinner.

  The trunk at the foot of the bed looked promising. Rummaging through it, she found a tunic-type shirt and what she thought might be leggings.

  Like William wore. And my oh my, did he look amazing. The muscles showed, flexing when he walked. Nope, not going there. A pair of boots were next to the desk, but given the size of his feet, no way they’d fit.

  Lucy stripped out of the wedding dress, wincing as it ripped again. She held it up. The once beautiful gown was now a stained, tattered mess. Much like her relationship with Simon. As she was standing naked in the room, the door banged open.

  “My lady—” William barged in, saw her and stopped, his mouth hanging open.

  “Get out! Get out now!” she shrieked. The shredded dress did little to cover the necessary bits.

  He hastily backed
out of the room. “My apologies, lady. I will be in the hallway.”

  Chapter Nine

  Absolutely mortified William saw her naked, Lucy frantically grabbed at the tunic. She tried on the leggings—were they called hose? They were big on her, but if she belted them they might work. Where was the belt? Right, she’d thrown it in the wash. Opening the chest again, she rummaged around and found a belt. She wrapped it around her waist twice then tied it in a knot in front over the tunic to hold the hose up. From what she could see, she didn’t look too bad, if she said so herself.

  What to do with the heap of rags that used to be a dress? What if she needed to wear the same clothes she was wearing when she’d landed in William’s castle?

  It stood to reason she had to wear the exact same outfit she’d arrived in to go back to her own time. She didn’t know why she believed it to be true, but she did. Of course, it wasn’t as if she’d ever met someone else who’d traveled through time. Lucy snorted to herself. Likely anyone who’d had the misfortune to come to the future found themselves rotting away in an insane asylum.

  Deep in her gut, the feeling told her wearing the exact same outfit made sense. Could she trust her faulty gut? With a roll of her eyes, she decided her gut was all she had to guide her, so it would have to do.

  Gathering up the dress in her arms, she made a mental note to find some kind of coat to wear over the dress, otherwise someone would be getting an eyeful. Would a coat hinder her from going home? So many questions. Come to think of it, where were the pins from her hair? The shoes?

  She rummaged through the room again, shaking out everything she could find. Not a single corner of the trunk escaped her notice. A hollow thump caught her attention. A false bottom. There must be a way to open it. Lucy felt around, and at one corner her finger brushed an indent in the wood. The piece popped loose and there were her blue sparkly shoes and the pins from her hair glittering in the light.

  The ruined wedding dress went in next to the shoes before she replaced the false bottom and closed the trunk. At least she knew where everything was when the time came to go home.