“What will you do about the village, tell the king?”
“Nay, he is occupied with the sickness spreading across the lands. I will deal with Hallsey myself. He wants my land, has wanted it since before I was born. But he will not have it.” Henry squirmed, and she wondered what he wasn’t telling her.
“Why does this Lord Hallsey hate you? Did you ravish his daughter or something?” she teased him.
At the look on his face, Charlotte wanted the ground to open and swallow her up. Her embarrassment was quickly followed by anger. She knew men of this time weren’t monks, but she thought he was some kind of Prince Charming and above womanizing.
“You did, didn’t you?”
“I was at court. Young and a dolt. In truth, I did not know the lady was Lord Hallsey’s wife. She came to me, followed me about. One night I entered my chambers to find her in my bed.” He stopped, his face red.
“Afterwards, she went to her husband, told him what she had done. The man has bastards by half the serving women in his keep. He had always been jealous of my family. But after that, he hated me. Swore revenge.”
As they came to the bridge, they stopped. The water surrounding the castle was still. Charlotte could see their reflections. The landscape was green and lush, a beautiful location. The castle itself was breathtaking, built in a square with round towers at each point. She could see why someone would choose this spot to build a home.
“I can see why he would be angry, but in your defense you didn’t know who she was. She did it to spite him, not because you meant anything to her.”
“You wound me.”
“Your pride can take it.”
Henry blinked at her several times. Then he smiled, and it lit up his entire face. Talk about movie star looks. He held out his arm.
“I know you’ve been worried about supplies. Have you visited the wells?”
Great, another location to add to her morning rounds. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? Right, because she took fresh water for granted, though that was quickly changing.
“No. I wondered what you did for fresh water. I thought you simply dipped the bucket into the water surrounding the castle.”
Charlotte’s anger quickly dissipated. She didn’t know him before she’d arrived. Everyone had a past; she had one herself. What mattered was how Henry behaved now. She had not seen him with another woman. He hadn’t even flirted with anyone. Not that they were a couple, but if they became one…well, she would judge him on his actions, not his past deeds.
She’d watched too many relationships end up broken and smashed against the rocks because one person or the other couldn’t accept their partner’s past. She’d sworn long ago to never be like that.
“There are two freshwater wells. My sire’s father was besieged several times and swore he would never run out of water. One of his childhood friends had been besieged, and everyone inside starved and died from lack of water. That is why I have an abundance of food and why my sire did.”
He led her through the hall. They stopped to speak with several people. While it hadn’t exactly been easy living in the past, it also hadn’t been as hard as Charlotte thought it might be. All that time spent in third world countries must’ve prepared her better than she thought.
The interior of the castle was beautifully furnished with rugs and tapestries on the walls. She’d expected gray stone, but the walls were painted white, and other rooms were beautifully paneled. When she’d asked him about the decorations, Henry said it was considered very modern.
She thought whoever came up with the idea to build a castle in the middle of the water had a great idea. It would be difficult for anyone trying to attack when the owner could simply dismantle the bridge. Of course, she wondered, how did you get out once the enemy left? Did you have another bridge stored away someplace in the castle?
She peered into the well, feeling the cold stone ledge seep into her hands. “How deep is it?”
“No one knows. But we’ve never run dry. Not from either well.” He peered into the water beside her. Their faces reflected back at them. Something glinted at his neck and she turned to him.
As she was about to ask him about it, he got a funny look on his face.
“Did I tell you how I helped an old woman in the woods near where I found you? Some say she’s a witch. Others call her a healer. I was returning her necklace to her, but she told me I would know who it was meant for. Perchance you think I’m daft, but I believe it was meant for you.”
Henry pulled the necklace out from his tunic and over his head.
Charlotte gasped. “Melinda’s favorite necklace.”
“Your sister? I thought she was a score and six?” He dropped the necklace into her hand.
“She is. I wonder how the old woman came by the necklace? Melinda would not have easily given it away. It belonged to our Aunt Pittypat. It was the only possession Mellie had of hers.”
Henry took her hand in his. Charlotte felt the calluses on his palm as he stroked the back of her hand.
“I was powerfully drawn to it, and the woman seemed to sense it when she gave it to me. Now we know your sister is somewhere in England.”
“But neither messenger found anything. I could slap your brother for sending the messenger on to do his errands instead of sending him back here. I hate waiting.”
Henry frowned. “Lady Blackford is old enough to be your dam. And with James away and his wife unwell, we have only the word of the man the messenger spoke with. He said Lady Falconburg has only one sister. With the sickness near, we cannot risk a visit yet.”
Was it possible her sisters were being extra careful, trying not to arouse suspicion? But surely they would know if someone was asking that she must be here. Here in medieval England and looking for them. And if that were true, surely they would have come to see for themselves. It was so damned annoying to be so close and yet so very far from finding them.
He pulled her close, as if he knew her thoughts. “We will find them.” He looked down at her, ran his fingers through her hair. Charlotte wondered if he was finally going to kiss her. As Henry leaned close enough she could smell the parsley on his breath, she sucked in a breath.
“Pardon, my lord?”
Charlotte wanted to stamp her foot and scream. Talk about terrible timing. Henry seemed to feel the same, by the look on his face. But he pasted on a smile and turned to the garrison knight.
“Aye?”
“There is a dispute over the chickens. You should make haste.”
“Bloody hell.” He turned to her. “We shall resume speech at supper. Save me a dance or two?”
Heat flooded her face as she clutched the precious necklace in her hand. “All of them.”
Chapter Twenty
As Henry left to deal with whatever required his attention, Charlotte thought about her life thus far. She looked down and turned the charms on the necklace over and over again. She didn’t believe in coincidence. Somehow there was a connection between the old gypsy woman and the old woman Henry met in the wood.
Magic. Reincarnation. Or something else unexplainable. To hold Melinda’s necklace in her hand made Charlotte want to jump in a car and drive. To sing at the top of her lungs. It just wasn’t the same on a horse. For one thing, the horse tended to twitch his ears to show his displeasure. Everyone’s a critic.
The necklace proved she was in the right time and place. She could quit worrying if she’d made it to the right year. It also told her Melinda wasn’t too far away. And if her sister was near, Charlotte had to trust Lucy was also here.
“All women are creatures of evil.”
“Timothy. You startled me. What were you saying?” Great. The wacko was back.
He crossed himself. “Begone, demon.” He grabbed her by the arms, shaking her.
Charlotte had just about enough of this deranged loser. She pushed down hard on the nerve between Timothy’s neck and shoulder, making him let go of her. She stepped back, standing next
to the well.
“You need to leave. Now.”
Timothy lunged for her. She held up her hands in defense and realized her mistake as he grabbed for the necklace.
“No!”
In the struggle, the chain broke in two. He held it up, the pupils of his eyes huge. “Unicorns are signs of faeries. Everyone knows fairies are in league with the devil.”
Charlotte crossed her fingers behind her back. “My necklace is not evil. It was blessed by the Pope.” Technically it was blessed. Aunt Pittypat wore it when she attended mass over Easter in St. Peter’s Square, years ago. The Pope gave his blessing, so the necklace was blessed.
Timothy’s face turned a pretty shade of eggplant. And she couldn’t resist adding, “The necklace also brings good fortune. Now give it back.”
He shook the necklace at her. “These heathen charms prove you are a demon. I will take this to my bishop. You will burn.”
Timothy drew himself up, shaking his fist in the air, and all at once, as if someone had pried his fingers open, the necklace went flying.
Charlotte watched helplessly as it flew through the air. She jumped, grabbing for it, but it was too late. It went into the well. As she looked over the edge, she watched it hit the water with a splash.
“How could you do something so mean? It was the only thing I had left of my sister. You’re a horrible person.”
He made more signs at her and retreated. Though not before calling out, “My bishop will hear of this, witch. You will wish you had never come to Ravenskirk.”
And for the first time since she’d traveled through time, tears started to fall. Charlotte leaned over the edge of the well, staring at her reflection until the water rippled and blurred.
“My lord?” Chester stood before him. Henry re-sheathed his sword and wondered what he would have to deal with next. Pigs in his bedchamber? Children daring one another to swim in the moat?
“What’s happened?”
“I saw Timothy leaving the castle. He was muttering about witches and unicorns.” The man looked nervous, and Henry felt like he had eaten bad eels.
“Did he say where he was going?”
“I saw Mistress Merriweather. She was weeping.”
“What did he do to her?” Henry bellowed.
Chester sighed. “You know he believes women are evil. He told our lady she was a witch and a demon.” Chester scratched his nose. “I’m not certain you could be both.”
Henry tried not to laugh, as Chester seemed to be seriously pondering the question.
“Charlotte is neither. Did he hurt her?” If he had, Henry would kill him. He would not tolerate anyone ill-using a woman.
“No. But he took her necklace. The one the old woman gave you. There was a struggle and it went into the well. I tried to help her get it back, but the well is too deep. She was inconsolable. Said it was the only thing she had of her sister. I thought her sister was here in England?”
“She hasn’t seen her in a very long time. You know women and their womanly emotions.” Henry wasn’t about to voice what he suspected. That Charlotte was indeed from a faraway country. He only hoped she wasn’t really a faerie. Not that he believed in otherworldly doings.
“He will go to the bishop. The corrupt man would like nothing more than to see my lands and gold confiscated.”
Henry’s captain clapped him on the shoulder. “Shall we send men after him?”
“No. He is cousin to the bishop. We must tread carefully. Inform me immediately when he returns.” Just what Henry needed, another problem to deal with.
Chester left and Royce still stood there, a frown on his face. Henry needed to find Charlotte. Soothe her tender heart.
“You think I should go after him? His claim is ridiculous. Surely the bishop will not listen.”
Royce grunted. “I think you will wish you did when he returns.”
Chapter Twenty-One
A few days later, Henry watched Charlotte as she talked with the villagers. He was drawn to her. Found himself seeking her out during the day. She came to the lists every morning to watch him train. The men teased him mercilessly.
“My lord? Timothy is back. He’s asking to speak with you.”
Henry slumped. This would not be good news. “Bring him to my solar.”
Henry stopped in front of Charlotte. “You heard?”
She nodded. “He hates me.”
“As a favor to a friend of my mothers, I took Timothy as one of my men. He has always believed women to be weak. But lately…” Henry sighed. “He has grown mad. I will deal with him.”
He found Timothy in the kitchens terrorizing the girls as they worked. “To my solar.”
The man’s eyes gleamed with an unholy light. “I come from a most important meeting with the bishop. I have spoken with him about the dark doings under your roof. He knows the evil started when the demon arrived.”
“The only dark doings at Ravenskirk are in your mind. Mayhap ’tis time for you to seek shelter with your cousin’s family.”
He shook his head. “The bishop will see the lands cleansed. I have a message for you, from the bishop. Turn the faerie over for questioning within a se’nnight or—”
“Who is this faerie you speak of?”
The man’s face turned crimson. “The evil one. Charlotte Merriweather. You have seen how she behaves, the strange things she says. Her beauty is unnatural. A woman so comely must be in league with the devil or a faerie. To save her soul she must be burnt. Before she corrupts all the men at Ravenskirk.”
“I am most appreciative how you look out for the welfare of those under my care, Timothy.” The man scowled at him, and it gave Henry great pleasure to say, “Though I must refuse your bishop. Mistress Merriweather is under my protection. She is not evil. She is not a devil or a faerie or a demon. She is merely a woman. And I will not give her to you. For I know what kind of questioning takes place under the bishop’s care.”
Timothy scowled and puffed up. “You will regret this. If you do not turn her over, he will confiscate all that you own. You would not want that to happen, not after your family worked so hard to regain what was lost. You will bring shame upon your brothers.” Timothy stomped out of the room, slamming the door.
That would teach Henry to ever allow the bishop to visit Ravenskirk again. His timid little priest, Father Riley, would be happy the man was gone.
Henry turned to Royce, who rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“What think you?”
“You should’ve run him through.” Royce paced the room, thinking. Henry had known him since they were boys. They fostered together, fought together, and became friends. He respected his captain’s judgment.
Finally he stopped pacing and looked at Henry. “There is only one solution.” He grinned, and Henry knew he was not going to like what was said next.
“Now hear me out, Henry. You must marry Mistress Merriweather. The bishop would not come for your wife. He would not dare to anger the Thornton brothers. Not with all your gold and powerful armies. The king would get involved, and the bishop would have to explain his actions. Nay, to save her and your lands, you must marry the wench. Let the bishop find someone else to steal from.”
“Marry her? You of all people know I cannot.”
His captain quirked a brow. “The vow is not binding. It was made when you were in your cups. Talk to the priest. You know there is no other way.”
“You know the hatred my parents felt for each other. You, above all, know how difficult they made life for one another. I do not desire such a union.”
“Not all marriages are so full of misery. Many husbands and wives come to care for one another. I have seen you with children, Henry. You like children. Don’t you want your own? Heirs?”
“My brothers will have children. I could already have bastards. Mayhap dozens of them all over the country.”
His captain threw back his head and laughed. “You have no bastards. If you did, the women wou
ld come for you. You are one of the most eligible nobles in the realm. You and your brothers. They would not hesitate to claim what they thought was rightfully theirs.” Royce walked over and put a hand on Henry’s arm.
“’Tis time to grow up. Let go of childish beliefs.”
“My brothers aren’t married. None of us desire to trap ourselves in such unions.” He looked at the man, hoping for another choice. “Is there no other way? Tell me you can find another way out of this.”
Royce shook his head. “I am sorry, Henry. There is no other way. You must marry her and do it now. The bishop will not hesitate to move against you. We both know he will not give you the full se’nnight.”
Henry threw his cup against the wall, the pottery shattering. Instead of replying, his captain left the room, shutting the door behind him.
He liked Charlotte. Cared for her a great deal. But he had no desire to marry. She was enchanting, yet if they married she would change. Grow to hate him, as he would her. He had seen it with many couples. Henry stood staring out the window, unseeing.
As the day turned to night, he let loose a great, weary sigh and stood up straight. Bloody hell, he was a Thornton and a knight of the realm. Lands, title, gold, his people, and Charlotte. All were under his protection. To save her, he would do what needs be done.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Henry spent a restless night. No matter what he thought of, it all led back to him protecting her with his name. What would she say when he told her the news? Not ready to tell her, he spent the morning in the lists working his way through the men.
Sweat ran down his face. Still he was in a foul temper. There was trouble brewing with Lord Hallsey, they had not found her sisters, the fever sickness was coming closer to Ravenskirk, and he was running out of time. Henry cursed viciously. No more wasting time. He saw Addie with a basket over her arm. The child followed Charlotte around night and day.
Lonely is the Knight (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 3) Page 9