by Diane Darcy
He seemed equally caught up in her.
Could she give everything else up? Her family? Her career? Basic sanitation? Junk food? She didn’t think she could.
Especially her parents. She was their only child, and the thought of grabbing her own happiness and leaving them to pain and misery, wasn’t an option.
But what about Wallace? If she left it would gut him, and she found she couldn’t stand the thought of it. It would be one more betrayal in a long line of them.
“Is it possible to go back?”
Gillian sighed. “Did you bleed on the necklace at any point?”
Cara blinked, surprised by the question. When she’d been trying to remove the thing, and the clasp pierced her finger. She raised her thumb up to look at it, and it still had a tiny, inconsequential scab. “Yes, I did. I was worried I’d get in trouble for bleeding on the thing.”
Gillian chuckled. “That’s one of the steps. You have to bleed on the thing, and you have to be on sacred ground that’s been blessed by Saint Cuthbert when you do it.”
Again, she thought back to stumbling up against the touching stone at Stirling, and Lady Helena’s story. “What else?”
“That’s it.” Gillian waved a hand. “Bleed on the sacred object and you’ll be able to take it off.”
Cara touched the necklace at her throat and then looked at her thumb again.
She rotated the necklace around, found the closure, and willfully stuck her thumb on the sharp edge of the catch until it hurt.
Eyes wide, Gillian lifted her hand. “Wait!”
“What?”
“If you take it off here, in the chapel, you’ll go home immediately. If you bleed on it and you’re not on sacred ground, it’ll just come off. Are you ready to go home?”
Cara raised a brow and shot Gillian a glacial stare. “And when were you going to tell me that little tidbit?”
Gillian laughed. “I just did.”
Cara prepared to say her goodbyes, not quite believing, but willing to give it a try. She could go back, take the necklace to its rightful owners, call her parents, see if she still had a job.
Get her life back.
She raised her hand to the necklace again, but hesitated ... and then ... didn’t remove the necklace.
Apparently, she wasn’t ready to go home quite yet.
She still had reparations to make, didn’t she?
She couldn’t just leave Wallace when he might still need her help.
She rubbed at the small amount of blood, smearing it between thumb and fingers until it was gone, and then she sighed.
“You’re staying?” Gillian asked.
“For now.”
“Yay!”
“You know what’s weird? I mean weirder? Wallace’s mom, Lady Helena? She touched a stone in England somewhere, and saw the future. She claims to have met Saint Cuthbert.”
“What? You are kidding me? Do you think there are women from this time, ending up in the future?”
Cara shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea. She said she saw the future right before she married Wallace’s dad. Cars, buildings, modern clothing, things like that.”
“That was me too. One moment modern times, and the next medieval. And vice versa when I went back again.”
“Say again? When you went back?”
Gillian nodded. “I went back the same way I came. With the ring, on holy ground, a bit of blood.” Her expression was a bit impish, and a bit guilty. “Obviously, I came back again.”
“I thought I was still on a Hollywood set when it happened,” Cara said slowly. “There was no dizziness, no flash of light, nothing like that. I was just one place and then I was another.”
Gillian leaned forward, an earnest look on her face. “I would love it if you stayed. I absolutely adore it here; my life is amazing.”
She glanced at Cara’s necklace. “If Kellen knew about this he would freak out!”
“Well, please don’t tell him.”
“Your secret is safe with me. So, what’s the plan?”
Cara probably ought to go, right now, just leave while she had the chance. Who was to say when she’d be on sacred ground again, blessed by a certain saint?
“I don’t like that I can’t take it off.”
“You could take if off in your room. You could sew it in your pocket. I could get you some supplies.”
She was really going to stay, wasn’t she? For just a while longer? She was going to try and help Wallace, make things right for him.
The priest came back, carrying some papers, and resumed his seat once again.
“Here we are,” he said, and spread the papers onto the table. The edges curled and he spread his hands along them, holding them down in a practiced gesture.
“After Lady Marshall married Lord Marshall, I took it upon myself to find what information I could about Saint Cuthbert and his miracles.”
“Miracles?” Cara asked, feeling numb.
“Yes. I honestly don’t know why I had not done it sooner, as Saint Cuthbert’s reputation for visiting this particular chapel was well known and humbly acknowledged. I wrote to the diocese in London, to the monks at St. Bartholomew’s, and have several other letters out and am still awaiting responses. Here is what I found.”
He ran his hands along the paper once more and began to read. “My dear Elliot,” he glanced up at both women. “I will skip to the part that is pertinent. “Saint Cuthbert lies in a Norman cathedral along the River Wear and is the center of pilgrimage.”
He looked up. “I did know that bit.”
He cleared his throat. “Lindisfarne monks chose the peninsula to settle with the body of Saint Cuthbert, and the city was founded with divine intervention.”
He looked up, smiling, nodding. “Aye, what think you of that?”
Both of them must have looked suitably impressed because he continued. “Miraculously, his bier came to a halt at that location and would not be moved. He appeared to a certain monk telling him where he was to rest his bones. Bones which are legendary for their powers of healing.”
“Lady Helena saw him on her wedding day,” Cara said quietly.
Father Elliot’s mouth dropped and he looked floored. He quickly crossed himself. “I believe another miracle is in the making.”
He looked at both of the ladies somberly. “Canonization is not an easy process. As the man lived some two hundred years previously, and was sainted some fifty years after his death, he was obviously quite a heroic figure.”
Both women nodded and that seemed to satisfy him.
He continued. “He has been declared venerable, and a role model of Catholic virtues. After his death there was evidence of miracles from those drinking from the nearby river.”
He shot Gillian and indulgent glance. “I myself would like to present Lady Marshall as a miracle, and now you as well, my dear, as further evidence of Saint Cuthbert’s reach.”
He licked his lips and looked a bit nervous. “However, Lord Marshall has forbidden me from doing any such thing, and as Saint Cuthbert has already been proclaimed a Saint, I will not interfere, though perhaps if I outlive Lord and Lady Marshall, I might yet produce further evidence of his miracles.”
Gillian leaned forward and grabbed him by the shoulder, giving him a slight shake before leaning back to grin at Cara. “He’s Saint Cuthbert’s number one fan.”
“Shall I call him Annie Wilkes?”
“Call me Father Elliot,” he said earnestly. Both girls looked at each other and laughed, leaving Father Elliot confused.
“Sorry, inside joke,” Gillian said. “So, anyway, what you’re saying is that Saint Cuthbert, miracle worker that he is, left a bunch of places scattered throughout England and Scotland and we’ve traveled through time to basically what, meet our soulmates?”
The priest nodded eagerly. “Yes, I do believe that is so.”
The phrase struck Cara, causing an emotional reaction she wouldn’t have expected. She wanted to challenge Gill
ian over the use of the word, to deny that Wallace was her soulmate and insist he was someone she’d just met, but instead, felt a pang in her heart, like something unfurling, as emotion ripped through her.
She crossed her arms and looked down, unwilling to let the other two see the emotions she battled.
She liked Wallace, a whole lot in fact. Loved the way he looked at her, how he made her feel, loved to flirt with him and kiss him.
In all honesty, she’d never had these feelings for anyone.
Was it because he’d saved her when she’d been attacked?
Or was it the way that he was working so hard against villains and thieves with impossible odds?
As hard as he fought, this honorable, just, hard-working man, who was everything to his mother, sisters, his people, had never won.
According to the history books, Rupert Dinsdale had come out on top and Wallace had lived out his days in disgrace.
Because of her? Because she’d landed where she had? When she had? Ruining it for him?
And then she’d do what? Go on her merry way and forget about him in the twenty-first century?
No. Flipping. Way.
There had to be some kind of a cosmic reason she was here, probably to help him set things right. Maybe she was supposed to give him the necklace, and with that wealth he could regain a portion of what he lost?
Or, perhaps she could talk to the king herself. Sweet talk him into giving Wallace another chance. People tended to like her, and Wallace, well, he wasn’t one to hide his feelings. The king probably didn’t want his gloomy face around, making things dark and dreary when he was trying to have a good time.
Maybe she could intervene. Somehow.
What was she going to do? Stay and help him? Or prick her finger like Aurora from Sleeping Beauty, close her eyes and let the hero take care of it himself? Not happening.
“You mentioned supplies earlier. Any chance you have any beauty supplies? I’ve already put together a few things that might work. If we’re going to face king and court, we’d all need to look our best.”
Gillian squealed and clapped. “I could help you with that.”
The door was flung open and both Kellen and Wallace stood there, looking at the three of them, the dawn light at their back.
Kellen, expression black, didn’t say a word, but strode forward, lifted Gillian in his arms, and walked away with giggling wife.
Which left Cara looking at Wallace, all of her feelings for him still close to the fore.
This wonderful, strong man, fighting for justice and his people, while at the same time looking at her like she was the only thing in his life that brought him joy.
In that moment, she was so glad she hadn’t left.
She gave him a soft smile, and apparently, it was all he needed to emulate Kellen’s actions, and he surged forward, gently lifted her in his arms, and strode out the door.
Chapter 21
“Dearest, my mother woke to find you gone, and alerted the household, and Lady Marshall was found missing as well. Why were you out here?”
How on earth was she supposed to answer a question when her heart was thundering in her chest simply because he’d lifted her in his arms, held her against him, and spoken so sweetly.
Thud, went her heart.
She needed to stay calm, cool, and collected.
How on earth was she ever supposed to leave him?
Seeing Gillian so happy with her husband left Cara yearning for the same.
“It’s not my fault, so there’s no sense in blaming me. Gillian woke me early and hauled me out here to talk to the priest.”
His eyes widened. “To post the banns?”
“I don’t know what that means,” she said.
His arms tightened on her, pulling her up and against him for a long moment, before he relaxed enough to let her drop back against him into her earlier place. “’Tis an announcement of our marriage. I will admit I have already spoken to Father Hazleton, but I’ve no issue with posting here as well.”
Startled, she sucked in a breath and let it out as laughter. The man had proposed to her, and immediately gone to see a priest. Now she’d gone to see a priest, so he thought …
“I can tell you this, if I go to see the priest about a man I want to marry, I’m taking him along, and not a girlfriend.”
Wallace immediately stopped, and gazed down at her. “Have you decided you will have me, then?”
She swallowed. That turned serious fast. She’d decided to stick around and help Wallace if she was able, and she admitted that she was falling for the man, but marriage?
It wouldn’t be as easy to leave a husband behind, would it?
She could see a slight hurt in his face, and his voice was rough when he said, “If we post the banns today, we could be wed within three weeks.”
She swallowed. “Three weeks?”
“Aye, lass.”
If she got the chance to argue his case before the king, it would lend a little more clout if she was his fiancée.
Because that was the reason she was thinking about saying yes. Ha! Her reasoning left a lot to be desired.
Still, if it didn’t work out, and she still wanted to go back, three weeks would be enough time to come to a decision, wouldn’t it?
Engaged wasn’t married. Engaged couples broke up every day.
And suddenly she really wanted to say yes. Not just to make him happy, but herself, as well.
He watched her closely, the dawn light turning his bronze skin a golden color that only seemed to heighten his attractiveness.
Dang it, why did she have such a hard time resisting him?
Was it the hope in his expression? She could feel him holding his breath, awaiting her answer, and could not help teasing him.
“I can’t marry you. We’ve never even had a fight yet,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“A fight?” Wallace’s mouth parted. “I would never harm you, besides which, you’ve not the strength to win against me.”
She made a scoffing noise. “I don’t mean a physical fight, I mean yelling at each other, stuff like that. I don’t know if you fight fair, or if you’ll end up airing all my dirty laundry every time you get mad.”
“Your laundry?” Wallace looked more confused than ever.
“Yes, you know, some guys reveal stuff when they get angry.”
“We must fight,” he said slowly, “So you can take my measure?”
“Exactly. And we haven’t known each other long enough for that to happen.”
After a calculating look, Wallace cleared his throat. “I must needs admit you have angered me greatly.” He glanced around, seeming at a loss. “When you went missing, I was forced to seek you out!” He put a little heat and anger in the last few words. “I am enraged!”
Cara bit the inside of her lip and blinked up at him. “I can see that.”
He waited a moment, then said, “As you will note, your soiled clothing is safe, and will no doubt be cleansed soon enough.”
At that, she started to laugh, and his confused expression only made her laugh all the harder.
“Cara?” he looked so lost that it touched something off inside her and she threw herself at him, suddenly hysterical with laughter as she hung on him.
He chuckled and patted her back. “In my upset, I’ll no doubt be forced to kill you.”
She shrieked with glee! She pressed her face against him, weak, unable to control herself.
“Mayhap I’ll snap your neck, or throw you down the stairs, or even from the tower.”
She clutched at him, unable to catch her breath, patting his chest to get him to stop.
He chuckled, and hugged her close. “You are not to worry, I’ll be quick about it, and it shall be painless.”
When her amusement finally faded to snickers, with only a few hiccups here and there, he said, “Come, make peace with me now, and agree to be mine.”
Before she knew she’d meant to, and certainly against
her common sense, she said weakly, “Yes, Wallace, yes. I will marry you.”
So much for any of her reasons, as caught up in the moment, she meant every word.
With a whoop, he threw her in the air, caught her as she screamed, then headed back to see the priest.
Chapter 22
She’d never been engaged before, and now it was super official and everything. The priest had filled out some paperwork, blessed them, and planned to announce it three times or some such thing.
Somehow, she’d thought she’d feel differently, but no. Same old girl-out-of-time as always, uneasy as ever.
She wasn’t really thinking of staying, was she?
Back inside the keep, they found Gillian and Kellen facing off.
Gillian, hands on her hips, glared at Kellen, who glared right back.
“You will not go.”
“Oh, yes, I will go. It’s not that far, and I want to get to know Cara better.”
Cara was flattered, but she didn’t think she’d have the courage to take Kellen on the way Gillian was.
The other girl looked completely unconcerned.
Her husband looked like thunder. “My word on the subject is final. You will not go gallivanting about the country in your condition.”
“I should like to see you stop me.”
The big man turned away and grabbed his dark hair with both hands, and he seemed to throttle it, rather than his wife.
He dropped his arms, took a deep breath, and swung back.
“My Angel,” his voice wheedled, and Cara bit her lip to stop from laughing. If someone had told her Kellen could even speak in such a tone, she wouldn’t have believed them.
“In thy delicate condition, I think it best —”
“No!” Gillian waved a hand in the air, canceling out whatever he was intending to say. “It’s not like we’ll be riding hell-bent for leather, not with this large group. Women do it all the time, and I’m not staying behind and missing out because you say so!”
“Ye did not even wish to go before. What has happened to change your mind?”
Gillian’s gaze skittered over to Cara, and Kellen quickly followed it, and glared at Cara.
Her breath stuttered in her chest, and, without thought, she moved to hide behind Wallace.