Contents
Title
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Reading List
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About
Lonely is the Knight
A Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Novel
Book 3
Cynthia Luhrs
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Lonely is the Knight A Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Novel
Copyright © 2016 by Cynthia Luhrs
The soul is here for its own joy. Quote from Rumi
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my fabulous editor, Arran at Editing720
May each and every one of you find your very own knight in shining armor.
Chapter One
Prologue
Present Day—Deep in the Carpathian Mountains
Charlotte woke coughing. Smoke filled the room and she could see flames. The tiny wooden building was on fire. She couldn’t believe it. The man who’d tried to kill Melinda, put her in a coma, was dead. This was a simple accident, nothing more.
She was deep in the Carpathian Mountains, where she’d run to get away from all the craziness. On her hands and knees, Charlotte crawled for the door. It wouldn’t open. Something was blocking it from the other side. She grabbed one of the scarves Lucy had made her and held it to her mouth to keep the smoke from filling her lungs. As she crawled in the opposite direction, she searched for the window. It was her only way out.
The sound of a raven calling came from her left. The bird seemed to be leading her to safety. Charlotte pushed up the window and rolled over the edge, landing in the snow. She breathed in, coughing, her battered lungs burning.
Charlotte sat in the internet cafe and checked her email. Her friend Jake was housesitting and said the police were trying to get in touch with her. When she called, the nice officer informed her Melinda had taken her own life.
Even though she knew there was no way both of her sisters had tried to kill themselves, Charlotte let the tears fall. She knew in her heart there was no way both of them had fallen to their deaths. But she didn’t say any of this to the officer. She thanked him for telling her and ended the call, sniffling and blowing her nose.
There were enough bizarre happenings in this small town to make Charlotte certain there was more to this world than we could see and feel.
She would visit the one person she thought could give her some insight. The oldest woman in the village. Marielle was rumored to have the sight. Maybe she could tell Charlotte what had happened to Lucy and Melinda. She snorted. It wasn’t like the cops had a clue.
Charlotte knocked on the bright blue door. Marielle opened it, beckoning her in. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“Melinda is dead. At least, that’s what the police officer told me. He said she was visiting Falconburg Castle and jumped to her death out of grief. I don’t know why she went there but I do know this. She would not kill herself.”
Charlotte wiped the tears from her eyes and blew her nose. She met the gypsy woman’s wise eyes.
“Can you please tell me what happened to my sisters?”
The woman shuffled a worn deck of tarot cards. She laid them out in three rows of seven, from left to right.
“The top row is your past. The center row the present. And the bottom row is your future.”
Marielle looked at the cards for a long time.
“You will find your sisters in England. But not this England.”
“Melinda saw a painting in London. She swore it was of our sister Lucy. It was painted during the fourteenth century. Do you mean I can actually go back in time?”
“What is time? Time does not flow in a line. It is a circle. There are many possibilities if only you listen.”
The woman gathered up the cards and put them away. She took Charlotte’s hands in hers, looking at her palms.
“Be wary, child. Great danger awaits you. Look for the raven. He will guide your path. And the unicorn will bring great change to your life. Be ready.”
Unicorns? Charlotte believed in a lot of things, things others called New Age or ridiculous. But even she didn’t believe in unicorns.
“Thank you, Marielle. It’s time for me to leave. To go home and prepare.”
The little old gypsy lady kissed her on each cheek.
“Be strong, Charlotte. Your destiny awaits, if you have the courage to take it.”
If Lucy had gone back in time, did the gypsy mean Melinda had found a way to go back too? Charlotte needed to research and prepare. She didn’t know how she could go back, only that she must.
She grabbed her meager belongings and stuffed them into the back of the waiting taxi. While it made more sense to fly to England from Romania, she needed to go back to Holden Beach first. Tie up loose ends. Say goodbye to her childhood home and figure out a plan. Her sisters might call her flighty and free-spirited, but she had a knack for figuring things out.
She didn’t have a will, and there was the house and cars to deal with. Charlotte pulled out a small notebook from her bag and started a list. The fact that Lucy never returned and now Melinda was missing told Charlotte once you ended up in the past, you were stuck. So she would take care of what she needed to and then catch a flight to England. And somehow she would find a way to travel through time and find her sisters. Though what if they ended up in different times?
“No!”
“Miss?”
“Sorry. I was talking to myself.”
The driver nodded and went back to humming. Lucy and Melinda had to be together. Fate couldn’t be so cruel.
Holden Beach, North Carolina
A month had passed since Charlotte returned home to Holden Beach. She was completely healed from the burns on her arms and legs from the fire. Thanks to an old recipe of Aunt Pittypat’s, she wouldn’t scar.
Charlotte noticed her finger shaking as she switched off the iPad. Melinda Mer
riweather, American, apparent suicide due to grief over losing her sister, who died almost a year ago. Both sisters drowned and were presumed lost at sea.
Two of her sisters go to England and are presumed dead or missing? Something smelled worse than a pot of collards left on the stove for two days and two nights.
Why hadn’t she listened to Melinda? Gone with her? And what was with the Brits wanting to kill all three of them? She’d barely escaped the fire. Had come to believe someone was still after her. Why?
There had to be a reason. Charlotte jumped on her bike and rode to the local bookstore. Inside she perused the stacks. She bought books on the history of England, particularly those with a focus on the fourteenth century. Books on field medicine, plants, and herbs. Oh, and let’s not forget books on witchcraft and New Age ideas. As she took the huge stack up to the checkout, the cute guy wearing glasses flirted with her.
“Wow, that’s a lot of information. Are you studying for a class?”
“You could say that. I’m going to England for vacation, so I thought it would be fun to visit a few castles.”
He picked up the book on field medicine. “Well, unless you’re planning to start a war while you’re there, I don’t think you’ll need this one.”
“It’s always good to broaden your horizons, don’t you think?”
Charlotte collected her purchases and filled up the basket on the bike. One thing to check off her list. While she hated taking any more time before she left for England, she felt it was important to be prepared. Her flight left two weeks from today. That should give her enough time to read through the books and make notes. She was a firm believer in notes.
As Charlotte sat outside on the deck overlooking the ocean, she opened the leather-bound journal she’d purchased in the store. It was expensive compared to the cheapie notebooks she usually bought. But it looked old, so it shouldn’t arouse suspicion if anyone saw it.
She planned to fill it with anything she might need during her journey. Moments in history, various plants used for healing, and, of course, Aunt Pittypat’s famous recipes. All of them would go in the journal. Charlotte had a friend who might be able to get her antibiotics. That seemed like the one thing she wanted to take back with her.
A solar charger and phone so she could play music would be nice, but she decided against it. She didn’t know why, but she was afraid to have too many modern things with her when she tried to go back in time.
Thanks to the power of the internet, she’d done most of her research online. There were a group of history buffs in Northern England she planned to meet up with. They’d been emailing back and forth. One of the guys said he’d teach her how to use a knife. He didn’t think she would have long enough for him to teach her to use a sword. That was fine. One weapon would do.
No way could she take a knife on the plane. She’d buy an antique when she arrived. Flying into London would be perfect. Charlotte could scour some of the shops looking for the rest of what she needed. Things like a cloak and clothes to help her blend in. She could sew reasonably well, so she planned to add pockets to anything that didn’t come with them.
As she ate a slice of pizza, Charlotte opened the first book and began reading.
Chapter Two
Charlotte leaned back in the rocking chair on the deck, staring at the water. She finished the glass of sweet tea with a soft sigh. “Guess I won’t be getting any more of this where I’m going.”
“Talking to ghosts?”
“Jake, you scared me. Want a drink?”
She grinned as he glanced at his watch. “I guess it’s not too early for a beer. Based on your cryptic text, I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
She walked across the cool tiled floor to the blue and white kitchen. For a moment she hesitated before opening the cute retro turquoise refrigerator. Before long, if she were successful, refrigerators would no longer exist.
The door swung open and Charlotte let the blast of cold air soothe her nerves. She pulled out a beer for Jake, poured another glass of sweet tea for herself, and stood watching the condensation run down the cup. Maybe she should make a mojito? No, she needed to be fully functioning as she finalized the last few items on her list.
“I’m going to miss all this.”
“I thought you were only going to England for a couple weeks. You know I’ll be happy to housesit for as long as you need. Now that my apartment is turning condo, I’ve got to find a new place.”
Charlotte put her bare feet up on the railing, admiring the sparkly purple polish. She reached into the tote bag next to the rocker and pulled out a file folder decorated with pink flamingos. She slid it across the table.
“What’s this?”
“I’m going to be gone a lot longer than two weeks if everything works out as planned. If I don’t come back, if they tell you I’m dead, the house is yours. Along with all the furnishings and my car. Though there won’t be much money. I’m going to need most of it for my preparations.”
She waved a hand around. “You’ll be the sole owner of this incredible view. I never tire of looking at the ocean. The changing colors. How the sky meets water. Promise you’ll take good care of the place.”
Jake sputtered and coughed, choking on his beer. Charlotte helpfully pounded him on the back.
“You okay?”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Are you out of your ever-loving mind? Time travel is only something that happens in the movies.” He reached out across the small table, touching her arm.
Charlotte resisted the urge to laugh. The look on his face was so grave. Her smile faded as she realized his tone was one of someone speaking to a small child. She hated the condescending tone, heard it too many times during her life.
“Watch it, Jake. Keep up that tone and I’ll leave the house to one of my favorite charities.”
“You have to accept Lucy and Melinda are gone. I know you’re sad. So am I. The thought of losing them and your aunt in one fell swoop would make anyone a bit batty.”
Jake drank half of the beer. “You have to accept the facts. They are dead. And time travel isn’t real. No matter what that crazy witch told you in Romania. Your sisters both dying while visiting some spooky old castle was terrible. But it’s nothing more than coincidence. They did not travel through time.”
He looked at her, his face full of pity. And in that instant, Charlotte wanted to smack the look off his face. She wasn’t unhinged. Jake was her best friend, though sometimes she wished she could turn him into a fly and squash him.
“Do you want the house or not?”
“Listen, Charlotte,” Jake pleaded, “don’t go to England. In your frame of mind, you’re susceptible to all kinds of suggestions. I really think you should see a doctor. They can give you some medication. Help you.”
“Medication? That’s the problem with this country. Too many people take medication for problems they don’t have. If they would just get up, go outside, and take a walk, get some sun and do something silly once in a while, everyone would be in a better frame of mind. Not to mention cutting out all of that awful processed junk food that Big Food has us all addicted to. That alone would probably fix half the problems in this country.”
Jake held up his hands. “Okay, okay, no need to get on your soapbox.”
She was breathing through her mouth. Her skin felt clammy and hot at the same time. “I’m sorry. You touched a nerve.” Charlotte rocked back and forth. “My mind is made up, and nothing you say will change it. This is something I have to do.”
He slowly opened up the folder, looking at the papers inside. “I can’t believe you’re giving me the house. This place is amazing. You know I’ve always loved it.”
Deep breaths, in and out. She listened to the waves crashing against the shore, the seagulls calling. After a few minutes, Charlotte was calm again. Centered. She placed her hand over his.
“I know how much you love the house. I’ll feel better knowing the house is loved. I t
alked to the lawyer. Everything is in order. All that’s left for me to do is to get rid of a few more things and finish my research.”
She stood and paced along the deck. “Things aren’t the same. I hear Aunt Pittypat’s voice wherever I go. Lucy and Melinda…you can’t imagine the hole in my heart.” Charlotte searched his face, willing him to understand.
“Look at it this way: if I don’t come back, you know I made it and you get the house. If I do come back, well, you’ve had a place to stay.”
Jake scratched his chin. “I won’t say anything more. I know you well enough by now to know when your mind is set. When do you leave?”
“The Friday of Memorial weekend. You get to enjoy the craziness all the crowds will bring.”
“Won’t matter to me. All I have to do is step out the back door and I’m on the beach.”
She leaned against the rail, flicking the white paint off with a nail. Another item she could check off her list. There was nothing left for her here in North Carolina. It was time to go.
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I believe with all my heart and soul that somehow Lucy and Melinda traveled back in time. I’m going to find out what happened to them. Hopefully, find both of them.”
Charlotte hugged Jake. “Go ahead and bring your stuff over. You already have a key.” She gave him a little shove. “Don’t worry—the beer in the fridge is yours. I never could stand the stuff.”
He looked like he was about to start lecturing her again, but instead he pressed his lips together and kept quiet. He always had her back, even when he didn’t agree with her. A true friend.
“I can never thank you enough for giving me a house on the beach. When you come back—” He held up a hand. “If you come back, I’ll be here to pick up the pieces.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “And if by some chance you don’t come back, I’ll know you made it.” Jake stood back. “Try and find a way to send me a sign, okay?”
Lonely is the Knight (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 3) Page 1