She turned her lips toward his ear. “I can’t wait to be in bed with you.”
“With me pulling on your hair and playing with you in my mouth,” he added on a low growl as he went for her neck.
Her thoughts were assaulted with images of them sweaty and coiled in each other’s arms.
She remembered where she was and opened her eyes. She coughed into her hand and looked at him—too embarrassed to look at anyone else.
He was no help, smiling at her, liking her reaction to him.
She wanted to pinch him, but any kind of contact could spark their passion.
This was no mistake. This was perfect.
“Scarborough,” said the king. “You barely heard me!”
“Forgive me, Sire. What were you saying?”
Henry laughed. Kes knew Henry understood what they were going through. The king could barely keep his eyes off Lizzie. History showed that he was a devoted husband and one of the few kings who never had a mistress.
“I’m going to repeal the Titulus Regius that declares Edward’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville invalid and thereby legitimize my wife.”
Nicholas didn’t smile. “What if the princes are found? They will be legitimized as well. Are you willing to give up the throne?”
Henry laughed and clapped him on the back. “We will worry about that if the time ever comes. Oui?”
Nicholas stiffened and turned to look at her. His gaze said everything. He was going to worry about it now.
She knew what his concerns were. There were a handful of historians willing to come out and say that Henry wouldn’t have taken the chance of legitimizing the heirs if he wasn’t sure the boys were gone. And there was only one way to be sure.
She sighed. Ah, well, nothing perfect lasted forever. She smiled to herself. That wasn’t true. Love was perfect and it lasted forever. It echoed through time and called to hearts that were lost.
Was one of those hearts Arthur Pendragon’s? And how many others would it bring together before it found its owner?
She might not ever know. It didn’t matter. She had a husband to see to and a king to watch more closely.
“Come, my darling,” she cooed on their way to the castle when the celebration was over. She held his strong arm and slipped her free hand to his temple and down his jaw. “Let me see to you.” She leaned up to kiss his neck.
He smiled into her hand, forgetting everything else as she ran her palm over his mouth, and then picked her up and carried her to their room.
“Do not worry, love,” he said. “I do not plan to live in the past with the princes…or the future, but in the present. With you. Here and now. And not waste a single day.”
She stared into his eyes and smiled as he shut the door to their chambers and bolted it.
October 13, 2019
Dear Daddy,
I know how this is going to sound, but it’s me, Kes. I’m not dead and I wasn’t kidnapped. I was transported back in time to the fifteenth century. I don’t know why really, except it has something to do with a brooch belonging to Arthur Pendragon. A brooch that brings us to our true love. I will let Elia tell you about Nicholas, my husband, since she raised him and knows him best. Hear what she has to say, Daddy. I think she has a little crush on you.
There is so much I want to tell you. I don’t know where to start. The Round Table knights are real. So is King Arthur. We supposedly have Pendridge, or Pendragon blood. I know how farfetched this all sounds, believe me. But it’s all true. I met Sir Gawaine and Lucan! And oh, Dad, Mr. Simeon is a time traveler. He trades with a merchant here and fills his house with ancient artifacts. The things I’ve seen and catalogued!
Of course I miss you terribly. There isn’t a day that goes by when you are not on my mind. That’s why I sent you Elia. She’s wonderful. I think you’re going to love her.
I wish you could be here with us as we welcome…
Charles Arthur Lancaster finished reading the letter from his daughter. So, this all had to do with the brooch and his daughter finding true love. He could see her if he wanted to. After all, it was his spell, his brooch, but he’d have to give up his position, his freedom. Maybe one day.
Not yet. He looked over his glasses at the woman from the fifteenth century sitting in his library. Elia she said her name was.
“So Elia, tell me about my son-in-law. Does he practice courtly ways?”
End
About the Author
Paula Quinn is a New York Times bestselling author and a sappy romantic moved by music, beautiful words, and the sight of a really nice pen. She lives in New York with her three beautiful children, six over-protective chihuahuas, and three adorable parrots. She loves to read romance and science fiction and has been writing since she was eleven. She’s a faithful believer in God and thanks Him daily for all the blessings in her life. She loves all things medieval, but it is her love for Scotland that pulls at her heartstrings.
To date, four of her books have garnered Starred reviews from Publishers Weekly. She has been nominated as Historical Storyteller of the Year by RT Book Reviews, and all the books in her MacGregor and Children of the Mist series have received Top Picks from RT Book Reviews. Her work has also been honored as Amazons Best of the Year in Romance, and in 2008 she won the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence for Historical Romance.
Website:
pa0854.wixsite.com/paulaquinn
