Many of the villagers brought plants and seeds. Gave them a good excuse to get a good look at her. They’d be disappointed the fearsome Lord Blackford was not in residence. The gypsy woman was nowhere to be found when she’d looked for her at the market. With the speed gossip traveled, she had no doubt the woman would find her in due course.
A shadow fell over her, a raven soared overhead and when she looked up, a tiny old lady stood in front of her, waiting. It was as if she’d conjured the gypsy out of thin air. The woman had long silver hair braided down her back. Piercing brown eyes looked out of a face full of wrinkles, attesting to the fact she’d enjoyed a happy life.
“You seek information.”
It was a statement made with a Mona Lisa smile. Lucy stood, wiped the dirt from the side of her face and just barely resisted the urge to squirm. “Would you like something to drink?”
When the woman nodded, Lucy had the feeling she had passed some kind of test. A wide-eyed Albin ran to the kitchens with instructions to fetch ale and the apple tarts she’d made early this morning.
Thomas frowned at the woman but refrained from saying anything, instead choosing to pace back and forth around the garden, occasionally casting an eye over the two of them. Talk about a man of few words. He was emulating William all too well. Lucy led her guest to a sheltered bench nestled in a corner of the garden.
She wasn’t sure where to start, so she plunged right in. “The girls in the village say you provide love potions and things.”
The gypsy woman turned a shrewd eye on her. “You have no need of a love potion.” The woman’s bracelets rattled as she moved her arms. Her heavy gold hoop earrings gently swayed in the breeze. She looked like a little peacock in the brightly colored peasant top and skirt. Like Lucy had picked a picture out of an old book of fairy tales.
Nothing ever ended well in those old stories. Most of the village women feared the gypsy but still went to her seeking help.
Albin brought the refreshments, chewing industriously as he approached, making Lucy bust out laughing.
“I see you ate a few of the tarts along the way.” The boy’s face fell. She patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble. Growing boys need to eat.”
He smiled up at her and set the tray down on the wall next to them. Albin went to stand by Thomas but made sure he was close enough to hear whatever they talked about. Lucy knew he listened at doors. Made himself invisible, knowing people tended to ignore small children. He was a wealth of information.
They sat in companionable silence eating the tarts and drinking a glass of ale. The woman belched, rubbed a hand across her lips and turned to Lucy, waiting.
“Could you help me find my way back home?”
The woman took her palm, tracing the lines, mumbling to herself.
“You traveled a great distance. Overcame hardship. Now you learn to hold true to your self again.” The woman took Lucy’s chin in her hands. Brown eyes assessing, measuring.
“How do you know you are not where you are meant to be?”
Lucy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Wasn’t it just like a fortuneteller to give a totally vague answer?
“So are you saying I can’t go home? I’m stuck here in 1307?”
The woman remained unruffled, tracing the lines on Lucy’s palms. She cocked her head, listening to some voice only she could hear then nodded. “If you truly desire to go whence you came, you will have the chance to do so. Know this. Some things are meant to be. Trying to change your fate doesn’t always ensure your desires. Sometimes what you want is not what you need, child.”
The woman drank another cup of ale then narrowed her eyes. Lucy followed her gaze to see what or whom she was watching, and grimaced. Clement was coming toward them.
“Beware that one. He wishes ill on all. Will do great harm unless you stop him.” She stood up. “He calls you witch out of fear. Fear carries power. Beware.”
And with that, she turned and hurried down the path so quickly that Lucy lost sight of her.
Clement made the sign of horns to ward off evil. “What was the gypsy woman doing here? Were you seeking a love potion? To entrap William?”
“I don’t believe in love potions. We were simply having a nice chat about the garden. She brought me some plants and herbs.”
Clement looked like he wanted to say more, but someone called his name. With a scowl, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the garden, stopping to pet one of the dogs that roamed the estate.
She pondered what the woman had said. If Simon was right, she knew what Clement would do to William. Well, not exactly what he would do, but she knew what the outcome would be. It seemed to her she needed to be the one watching over William instead of the other way around.
Time passed quickly. The first day of fall would be here before she knew it. Not sure whether to believe the gypsy woman or not, Lucy decided every night she would go up to the battlements to see if she could go back home. Just to be safe.
Did she really want to leave?
As she wiped her hands on a piece of cloth, she smiled. Pretty soon she would have new clothes. An apron with pockets and a dress with pockets. She’d never cared much about clothes until now. And if she were honest, she was really hoping she’d have a chance to wear the blue velvet dress.
A rumbling sound made her turn, looking for the source. It seemed to be coming from above. She was knocked to the ground, her breath whooshing out. She heard Albin cry out. A large chunk of stone pinned his arm to the ground. The arm was twisted at an unnatural angle.
She heaved herself to her feet and ran over to him. “What happened?”
“I saw the stone fall from the battlements, my lady. I pushed you out of the way. The stone hit my arm. It hurts.”
Thomas ran over, lifting the rock off the boy’s arm. “I’ll send for the healer.”
“Thank you, Thomas. It looks like his arm is broken. Hurry.”
Lucy frowned, looking up at the battlements. She thought she saw a figure duck back. Someone didn’t like her. Was it Clement? She thought the men’s dislike was harmless. Bertram had convinced her the pie was bad, not poisoned. Now she wondered if someone meant to do her serious harm.
The stone was meant to hit her on the head, and instead Albin was hurt. She was grateful he’d saved her. If that chunk of rock hit her on the head, she’d be dead. The boy was so brave. Trying not to cry, he was pale and sweating, his body trembling. She sat with him and rocked him back and forth, whispering in his ear.
“You were very brave. Like a knight saving a lady from danger. I’ll make you some cookies.”
He wiped a tear away to smile. “What are cookies?”
She brushed the damp hair away from his forehead. “You’ll like them very much. They’re even better than apple tarts.” William better come back soon. She needed to warn him. Seemed both of them were in danger.
Chapter Eighteen
“There were no women on board? You are certain?” William asked the survivor from the shipwreck again. The man recounted a terrible storm, the ship breaking apart, men screaming as they died in the cold water.
The sailor, perpetually darkened from the sun, shook his head. “No. No women on board. Only captain and crew, my lord.”
The man rubbed the stump where he’d lost his leg at the knee. “No sailing until my new wooden leg is fashioned.”
Lucy Merriweather was not on the ship. A raven settled on the fence post watching them. The sailor nodded to the big black bird.
“Some say ravens are the keepers of secrets and memories.” He looked from William to the bird and back again, shaking his head. “The raven has a message, my lord.”
William resisted the urge to snort. What could a bird tell him? Mayhap he was losing his wits much like Lucy? The bird cawed again, giving William the unsettling thought the bird was indeed speaking to him.
A sense of calm, much like he experienced in battle, settled over him. He could not say
how he knew, only that he did. Lucy told him the truth.
She was indeed from the future. Likely he should fear the knowledge of things that would come to pass, though he yearned to learn about her time. She said something about a curse? Blackford would stand in her time, though in a ruinous state.
It saddened him to know all his efforts would be for naught. Did he leave no heirs? Had he truly never remarried?
The land called him home. How quickly he had come to care for Blackford and its inhabitants. Once home, he would talk with Lucy. Ask her to tell him more about things to come. Have her tell him about this curse.
How could he aid her? He could protect her with his body. His sword. And with his title. But he had no heavenly powers to send her through time to the future. He was having a difficult time believing such things were possible. Truth settled over him like a well-worn cloak, and he knew it to be true, no matter how difficult to believe.
Had God sent her back for him? The thought crossed his mind that he could spend the rest of his life with her and be happy. Just as quickly, he pushed the thought aside. Future or not? He would not take her as his wife.
Shelter and a place to live was all he could offer. He would see her settled however she desired. In truth, he did not want her to leave Blackford. She had become a part of the place. Even now he yearned to go home to her. Heard her laugh across the distance.
Back at the inn, the horses were saddled and waiting. Wymund stood talking softly to his mount. “Find what you were looking for, my lord?”
“I believe so.” William settled into the saddle. “We make for home.”
The healer set Albin’s arm. He was very brave and Lucy fussed over him. Then the fever started. She moved him into her bedroom and spent the night and next day sitting up with him, worrying. Albin made her laugh, trailed her everywhere. She’d become attached very quickly.
He cried out in his sleep. Cried for his family. Lucy knew the feeling well. Such a brave boy. He never complained, never talked about home. Always cheerful and ready to help. It was nice to be in her own room. The men helped Lucy switch rooms with William so he could have his chamber back. She’d hogged his room long enough. And hers was pretty with the new chair, tapestry on the wall and a carpet Bertram found in one of the storerooms.
The view looked out over the water. With the shutters open, the breeze carried away the smell of sickness and filled the room with fresh air. The men were horrified she’d leave the window open, but chalked it up to her foreign ways and left her alone.
Thomas opened the door and one of the boys came in bearing a tray. “Bertram sent me with some porridge, my lady.” A wistful look on his face, he said, “Will you be cooking again soon, mistress? We miss your food.”
Lucy resisted the urge to laugh. She’d been so worried about Albin she hadn’t cooked any meals for the men. Bertram told her not to worry, and went back to his old duties while continuing to supervise the cleaning of the castle from top to bottom.
What he’d been able to accomplish in a week was nothing short of amazing. The entire place practically sparkled. He was like a drill sergeant barking orders, ensuring everything was kept up to his standards.
William would be so surprised. She wondered again when he would return. Tomorrow, if she figured right. A week of missing him. Lucy laid a hand on Albin’s forehead. Did he feel a bit cooler?
He opened his eyes. “I’m hungry.”
“You gave us all quite a scare. You had a terrible fever.” She picked up the bowl of porridge and helped him sit up in bed. His little arm was in a sling. He’d heal quickly and be back to his usual rambunctious self in no time.
Albin swallowed the porridge, making a face. “You didn’t make this.”
“No, Bertram was kind enough to cook while I stayed with you.”
Albin touched her hand. “I know you’re not my mother, but I thank you for caring for me.” He looked at the porridge, a resigned look on his face, then opened his mouth. “I think you would make a good mother, mistress.”
His words warmed her heart. “I did leave your side for a little while. But only to make you some cookies.”
Lucy stood, went over to the small table next to the chair by the fire and brought back the basket. She pulled back the cloth, watching his eyes grow big.
“Are those for me?”
She touched his forehead once more, filled with gratitude he was going to be okay.
“Finish your porridge and you can have a cookie.” He gave her such a sad puppy-dog face she grinned. “Eat it all and you can have two.”
The boy ate his porridge and eagerly took both cookies.
With limited supplies on hand, Lucy did the best she could, coming up with a basic sugar cookie. A look of sheer bliss filled his face as he chewed.
“I believe the angels have taken me to heaven.” He ate the next cookie as quickly as the first, looking longingly at the basket.
“Oh no. I want to see you eat a good dinner then you can have another one tonight.”
She stood and stretched out the kinks in her back. “My mama used to call me a greedy Gus when I ate all the sweets.” Lucy wiped a crumb from his lip. “Don’t worry, I made some for the others.”
He licked his fingers and fidgeted in the bed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to keep him there much longer. Best to pick your battles.
“Stay in bed until morning, then you can get up and run around again.” She paused. “Do as I say, greedy Gus, and you can eat the rest of the cookies in the basket.”
It probably wasn’t the best thing to bribe a small child, but she’d work with the tools at her disposal.
As they rode, William thought about everything Lucy had told him. If she did know the future, in but a score of years his king would no longer reign. His sire would die a terrible death.
A queen on the throne of England? Mayhap a woman could rule the country. Many females ran estates while their husbands were off warring. ’Twas a strange notion, to be sure.
Lucy said people no longer rode horses. Instead riding in a metal carriage that didn’t require beasts to travel. And traveled great distances in one day. He couldn’t imagine such a contraption.
He looked up at the sky. People flying through the heavens. In metal sky carriages to other countries in mere hours. Why would she want to stay in his time when such wondrous things existed?
William gripped the reins, making the horse shake its head. Men walking on the moon. He cast his eyes heavenward. ’Twas not possible. Was it?
She spoke of things he couldn’t fathom. And the curse. He needed to know what it spoke of. If there was a way to avoid the danger and protect his men and his home. He could not fail. Blackford would stand intact for generations.
As William and his men neared the border of his lands, a group of ruffians appeared out of the trees. An arrow hit him in the arm. He swore, jumping off his horse.
With the swing of his sword, he took out the first man. His men quickly engaged the others. The last man dropped his bow and ran. Wymund was after him. He knocked the man to the ground and dragged him back to William.
“Why do you attack us?” William growled at the man.
Wymund leaned down. “You know Lord Blackford. His reputation is legend. Speak now and he will grant you a quick death. Hesitate and he will make it long and painful.”
The man whimpered. William shook him. The man sniveled, wiping his nose on a dirty sleeve. He held his hands up in front of his face. “Don’t kill me, my lord. We was paid to attack you.”
“Who paid you?”
The man started shaking. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there. My brother met him. The man was short and wore a hood to cover his face. He paid in gold, so we didn’t ask questions.”
Disgusted, William got to his feet. “Let him go. He is no threat to me.”
The man got up and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Wymund leaned in close so the others wouldn’t hear. “There is a traitor amongst us.”
With a curt nod, William said, “See what you can discover. Quietly.”
The men mounted up and rode for the castle. A sense of urgency warned him to hurry. William had learned to trust his instincts. They’d kept him alive through many battles. Lucy needed him.
Blackford would defend against all threats. Threats outside and within. He knew those in the village whispered about him and his men even whilst seeking their protection. Soon in the distance he could see Blackford. More than seven hundred years would pass and the castle would stand. Pain lanced through him, and he wasn’t sure if it was from where he’d pulled the arrow free from his arm or something else. Was it, mayhap, the thought that none of his bloodline would hold Blackford?
The following day Albin hopped out of bed, declared himself fit to guard Lucy and trailed her down the stairs and out to the gardens. Her ever-present shadow detached himself from the wall and followed her back inside to enjoy the main meal of the day. Lucy was starting to appreciate eating the biggest meal at lunchtime.
She wasn’t used to manual labor. Spent all day sitting at a desk typing on a computer, with an occasional walk thrown in. And the gym? Forget it. Hated getting all sweaty and disgusting. But there was something about digging in the dirt with your hands, feeling the soil. Made you feel connected to the world around you.
Today she made sandwiches for lunch. Trenchers made of bread were used at meals, bread was wrapped around food and eaten at meals, therefore Lucy decided it wasn’t too far-fetched to serve sandwiches.
Between working in the garden and cooking meals, she was exhausted. When she leaned against a corner of the wall in her room, a door opened with a creak. A secret passage filled with cobwebs and dust. Stairs led up to a tiny room at the top of a tower.
There were windows all around, and she fell in love with the space instantly. Bertram sent a couple of the men to clean, men he trusted. He said there were likely passages all over the castle, and Lucy made a mental note to talk to William. This afternoon she and a few others would continue exploring.
A Knight to Remember: Merriweather Sisters Time Travel (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 1) Page 13