“I was Edward’s first in command. I brought him many victories. As had my father before he was killed, and his father before him. The de Marres have always fought on the side of the House of York. And they rarely lost.”
“If I remember this part of history correctly, then you’re right,” she told him. “The Yorks were always victorious.”
“Aye, because of my family.”
“Who taught you to fight?” she asked and rubbed her arms.
She was cold. What should he do?
He wasn’t a child. Why was he behaving like a peach-faced squire? He grinded his jaw and yanked her into his side. He put his arm around her and held her there. “I should have taken a cloak for you.”
“It’s…ok. This is…um…fine.”
“You are freezing,” he pointed out. “We should head back.”
“Not yet,” she pleaded softly. “I want to talk to you.”
His mistake was to look down into her eyes. “Why do you not fear me after what you saw me do today?” He had no idea why hearing his words made his throat tighten.
“You did it for me,” she answered softly, her breath warming his chin. “They were coming to kill me. Why didn’t you try to kill me, too?”
“Why should I?” he asked. “You are not my enemy.”
“I wasn’t theirs.”
“They likely believed you a witch.”
“And you don’t?”
He shrugged his shoulders and walked her to the shore. “I don’t know what I believe about you.”
“I wish there was a way to prove my words.”
“To what end?” he asked. “What would you have me do? I’m going back to the field in a few of weeks.”
She stopped walking and gave him a horrified look. “You are? I…I mean I don’t know what I would have you do… I don’t know what anyone can do. I may be stuck here for the rest of my life.”
Her large eyes grew larger, more haunted. He thought she might begin weeping again. “Miss Locksley,” he began with a scowl. He killed. He didn’t comfort. He didn’t know the first thing about soothing a soul. “I do not know if there is anyone to help you get back home. But it does not have to be so bad here.”
“Oh, no?” she asked separating from him. “How often do you bathe?”
“I just had a bath earlier today,” he told her with his brows dipping low over his eyes.
“And the time before that?”
His expression darkened. “You can clean up anytime you like right behind you.” He pointed over his shoulder at the waves.
“What do you do for pain?” she asked. “Wine?”
“We have something stronger if needed,” he defended.
“Whiskey?” she asked with a mocking twist of her pretty mouth. “We have pills. They are medicine all crushed up into a powder and made into a solid ball. I just have to pop it right into my mouth and swallow it and poof—” she snapped her fingers in the air. “No more pain. Advil. There are pills to help with just about every disease. What pain medicine is given to a woman in labor…the labor of giving birth?”
He had no idea. He was still trying to imagine the medical marvels she mentioned.
“Right.” She chuckled. “No thanks. How do you communicate with friends or family far away?”
“I do not have any friends or family,” he told her, meeting her softening gaze. “But I would think the same way I would get in touch with the king from the battlefield. Send a missive.”
She nodded her worried head. “We have a slim box that fits into the palms of our hands. With it, we can see and speak to whoever we want, wherever they are in the world in a moment.”
She had an ingenious imagination.
“Not only can our phones—that’s what they are called—put us in touch with friends or family in an instant, we can check the news anywhere in the world, look things up, virtually visit anywhere—”
He let one corner of his mouth curl into a slight smile.
She shook her head at him and gave him a disappointed look. “It’s all real. As real as you. But the world is a very different place.”
“It sounds like a better place.”
“No. Not in some ways.”
“Like?”
“There are a lot of people where I live! There are almost two million in the city alone!”
He stopped walking and gave her a doubtful stare. Another crack in her fantastical story. “Two million in one city?”
“Yes. It’s crowded.”
“How big is the city?
“The island that I live on is called Manhattan. It’s a little over twenty-two miles long. It’s surrounded by the other four boroughs that comprise New York City. Those boroughs also have millions of people.”
“Where do they all live?” he asked, not knowing if he should keep going along with her or put a stop to this now. She sounded so convincing. She’d thought of everything.
“In buildings. They are tall, some are called skyscrapers. They consist of apartments, and each apartment has rooms, and a working bathroom. It’s all very private. Everyone has a key to his or her apartment.”
“Miss Locksley?”
“Call me Kes. Miss Locksley sounds old.”
“I will call you Kestrel,” he complied, somewhat. “’Tis…different and, ehm, beautiful.”
She smiled and tilted her head just a bit. “You think so?”
He nodded. Pity she was mad. She was mesmerizing. So much so that she tempted him not to give a damn what the state of her head was. “Why would you want to go back to that? It sounds nightmarish.”
“Ok.” She laughed a little, making his head real. “I know it doesn’t sound so inviting. But we’ve adapted, and we don’t mind the dense population.”
He gave her a disgusted look. “I understand that ’tis your friends and family you miss, not necessarily all the rest.”
“I miss everything,” she corrected, sounding as haunted as she looked. “It’s my life. It’s who I am. I have to get back.”
Nicholas didn’t know how to answer her. None of it could possibly be real. She may as well have come here and told him she lived on the moon. It was impossible.
So was her
