“Don’t worry,” she said, pushing off him and holding on to him with her hands on his shoulders.” You won’t see me crying again.”
“You have a saucy mouth,” he remarked, keeping his eyes fixed forward.
“You think this is saucy?” She laughed a little. It was the first time she’d laughed all day. She must be hysterical. “Wait until I haven’t had my coffee.”
“What is coffee?”
She shook her head, feeling hopeless. “It’s a brewed drink made from coffee beans. It has caffeine.”
“What is caffeine?”
“It’s a stimulant. It makes you feel excited and energetic. Filled with vigor,” she supplied.
“Hmm,” he breathed. She felt the rise and fall of his shoulders. “So you like to be vigorous?”
“I like to be on my toes, recognizing the bullcrap when it comes. And it always comes.”
He turned and her hands fell away from his shoulders. He gave her a hard look. “I do not understand this language you sometimes speak. What it bullcrap?”
“Lies. Betrayals. Crappy stuff.”
He shook his head and turned again for the road. “Crappy stuff.”
He didn’t understand her use of slang, but it was her. She wasn’t sure if she could stop it or if she wanted to. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be here long enough for it to make a difference.
“What do you remember about the moments before you appeared on the field?”
Did he believe her then? Her heart thrashed like waves against the cliffs. “My aunt, Eleanor Pendridge, left me a brooch. I went to some office to pick it up. I was looking at it. I…I rubbed the surface with my thumb and the brooch began to change. The air shimmered and the brooch appeared new and shiny. There was a name on it. I spoke the name and then I was here.”
“What was the name?” he asked.
She closed her eyes and thought about it. She’d been thinking about it while he’d left her alone. “I don’t remember. I’ve been trying to, but I can’t. It was something very old and legendary. But I don’t know what.”
“If ’tis real it will come back to you, Miss Locksley.”
“It is real. I don’t know what to do to convince you.”
“Other than disappear,” he muttered, “there is nothing. But if you speak the truth, I must warn you, it sounds like magic was involved in getting you here. You would be best not to tell anyone else.”
They reached the small coastal town of Scarborough while she was pondering the thought of being utterly alone. She thought on it no further when she looked around. She drew in a slight gasp. If she had to be stranded somewhere…oh, my. Everything was built along the curved coast with the aqua sea rolling over the golden sand.
Fishermen cast their nets in the deeper end, while women washed clothing along the shore. Children ran and laughed.
Kes took everything in. She was pretty sure this place was a resort in the twenty-first century. She would have smiled if she wasn’t stuck in a nightmare.
They didn’t stop but kept going upward toward a long curtain wall made of stone, to the tall, majestic, stone castle. It was built along the promontory overlooking the North Sea and protected on three sides by cliffs and the sea. They crossed the massive ditch by a great bridge.
They reached the outer gate and rode into the mile-long outer bailey. Every dozen or so feet, a tower separated the wall. There was a great tower, four small towers and three larger ones. The place was a gigantic fortress. There were two stables and lots of bales of hay around. There was a steepled church with two men dressed in brown robes standing in front of the wooden doors watching their entrance. There were plenty of men to defend the fortress with two garrisons instead of the usual one. The sounds of clanging and banging from various smiths drove through her head as they passed them. Tanners hung hides out to dry. There was also a great hall, two kitchens, and the castle.
Impressive. Was it all his?
People came out to greet him as he rode into the inner court.
Everyone was dressed in appropriate fifteenth century garb. Women wore lower front openings with squared necklines and laces pulled tight over different colored kirtles. Some had a panel inserted beneath the laces. It looked terribly uncomfortable. One woman hurried out in a long dress which she carried in a loop to allow the freedom of walking. The men wore linen shirts with wide sleeves pulled through their doublets. Their hose were indecently tight and brightly colored. Some wore pointed shoes while others sported thigh boots.
Sir Nicholas didn’t wear a doublet, but a long, tapered sleeve shirt that was belted low on his waist. When he dismounted first, she noticed that he was, in fact, wearing hose. She looked and then turned away, blushing when he caught her.
“Come then, Miss. All will be well.” He held up his hands to catch her when she fell into his arms to dismount.
His voice, with his sexy British accent was immensely pleasing to her ears. But more than that, it soothed her and made her less afraid.
She caught his scent and looked into his eyes. That was a mistake. His piercing gaze went straight through her. She was sure he could intimidate any man she knew, but he didn’t intimidate her.
Everyone else did though. People were swarming about, coming closer. A stable hand ran to take the knight’s horse. Others wore wide smiles. She didn’t want to meet any of them. They would realize she was odd. Would their first thought be witch?
“Welcome home, my lord,” said at least fifteen people.
“Why, where is your armor, m’lord?” someone called out.
“My lord, your face is cut!” called another.
“My armor is on the field,” the earl answered mater-of-factly. “And I will see to my wound. I am in need of a bath though. Kenneth see to it immediately.”
An old man nodded and made way for someone to whom his lord
