Echo of Roses, page 13
“Aye. We may have to wed to turn his attention completely away.”
“You’re joking.”
“I believe he is being quite sincere,” Elia told her, leaning in to whisper.
Kestrel shook her head. “I won’t marry you to be safe from the king. I would marry you because I love you. And only then.”
If she loved him. Why did the mere thought of it make his muscles shake to have her close?
“Elia,” he turned to look at her. “Find a place for Reg and his little army to live. Not too close. I will pay whatever is necessary. I want him out of here.”
“Aye, Nicholas.” Elia smiled at Kestrel. “I’m leaving you in the best hands I know besides the Lord’s”
“Thank you,” Kestrel told her.
Kestrel looped her arm through Nicholas’ as Elia left. She smiled when he looked at her. “What gives, Nicholas? Why did you look paler when I mentioned love than I did when you mentioned marriage? Are you afraid of love?”
“Likely not as much as you are,” he remarked with a slight, but playful smile. “I have not been in love in…hmm, I do not think I have ever been in love.”
They reached the stable and he began saddling a separate horse for her.
“No.” She stopped him. “I want to ride with you.”
He nodded, liking the idea but finished saddling the horse. “You will ride this one out a mile or two, until we can no longer be seen from the wall. And then you will ride with me.”
“All right,” she gave in easily and let him help her mount.
She appeared anxious in her saddle.
“You can do it. Be confident. Help the horse trust you.”
She smiled and nodded. “Are we going to see Walter?”
“We will see where the wind takes us.” He took up his reins and smiled at her. “Aye?”
“Aye,” she agreed happily, taking up her reins, as well.
They rode out of Scarborough Castle, past the walls and the small village. They rode on until anyone standing on the castle walls, looking over, could no longer see them.
And after Nicholas checked and double-checked to make certain they weren’t being followed, he took Kestrel from her horse and set her gently between his thighs and against his chest.
After he secured her horse’s reins to his, they set out again.
“Nicholas? About the things we said—”
“Aye, we were convincing.”
She let out a breathless little laugh. “Yes. Very.”
She moved around on his lap to settle in deeper. He wanted to hold her, caress her, protect her from every harmful thing.
“So, do you still doubt my tale is true?”
He drew her in closer with his hand on her belly. “If I accept it,” he said against her temple, “then I must also accept that I could lose you at any moment.”
He felt her tight gasp at his words. She turned in his lap and kissed his scruffy jaw. He dipped his head and took her mouth with desperate need that matched her own. They stopped riding for a while and just kissed and touched against a tree in the grass.
“What should we do?” she asked him while she rested in his arms under the tree.
“About what?” he closed his eyes and leaned his back against the trunk.
“Us,” she clarified.
“I like us,” he admitted, closing his arms around her.
“So do I. But if troubles come, I would rather you weren’t associated with me.”
“’Tis too late for that.”
He peeked down at her resting on his chest and belly. She wrung her hands together. He wanted to kiss her again. “Did you worry this much in twenty nineteen?”
“Not on this level of seriousness. I thought worrying about paying the bills was hard. I—” She stared at him. Her eyes opened wider. “Nicholas, you believe me.”
“Aye. Aye,” he repeated more softly. “But I wish I did not.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice as soft as a sigh.
“Because you want to go back.”
More silence. He didn’t push.
“But, of course,” he said, “now I wish to know what will—”
“No. I can’t—”
“You will, Kestrel,” he insisted. “Was it ever proven that Richard killed the princes?”
“No, Nicholas. It was never proven.”
“Were they found?”
She looked away and then tried to get up. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
“Please, tell me what you know.”
Her big blue-green glassy eyes stared into his. She regretted having to tell him. “The bones of two small boys were found in the Tower in the sixteen hundreds. It was believed at the time that the bones belonged to the princes.”
“No,” he groaned, letting her go. “I had hoped…”
She drew him into her bosom and held him while he grieved the boys. His little brothers.
“Who did it, Kestrel?” he asked, withdrawing to look at her. “You must know.”
“I don’t,” she promised.
“The people of the future sound very clever. Is there no way to tell who killed the princes?”
“Nicholas, we don’t even know for sure if the bones belonged to them. They were buried after they were found. No one is sure where. There was no time to test them.”
“Their graves were not marked,” he said, tormented by the news.
“No,” she whispered, sounding heartbroken for the poor children, and for those who loved them.
“I was not there for them,” he said, telling her, and only her, his deepest regret while held in her arms. “I wish I had been. ’Twas why Edward did not make me their Protector. I was always away fighting for the House of York. I would seldom be here to help guide them. I could die at any time. But I did not die. And those battles could have been won without me. Even if we had lost because of my absence, the boys would be alive today and Edward V would be king.”
He felt the sting of his tears and let them fall. “’Tis my fault they are dead.”
“Nicholas, that isn’t true,” she comforted. “Did their father love them?”
“Of course.”
“And yet he made Richard their Protector?”
“He trusted his brother. So did I!”
“So, if he did this, then he fooled you all. Why would the thought cross your mind that Richard was busy having the princes declared illegitimate? No one suspected him of evil against the children. Not even his brother. There was no reason for you not to go fight and do your duty.”
“Aye,” he whispered. “Then to return and discover that Richard was the king and the boys were gone, I have pain and wrath deep inside of me toward Richard. Sometimes…I…I hope he dies in battle.”
“Nicholas—”
“But that would be the end of the House of York. Everything I have fought for my entire life.”
“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “I understand. We should be getting back.”
No. Back to what? Richard? Reg? Eating alone in his solar? He closed his arms around her waist. “What is the hurry, Kestrel?” He didn’t wait for her answer but lay her across the crook of his arm and bent over her. “You are the only person with whom I care to spend my hours.” His lips descended on hers in a kiss that curled her toes and set both their hearts to healing.
Chapter Fourteen
Kes let herself relax against Nicholas’ chest and closed her eyes on the way to Old Walter’s. She knew the merchant probably hadn’t found anyone to help them yet. She just wanted to go and have another look at everything. She also wanted to ask him how he came about owning such rare treasures.
It was a wonderful day for letting the wind carry them, as Nicholas had suggested.
The afternoon sun was shining brightly, drenching Nicholas’ dark hair in light.
What better way to travel than in the crook of the rock-hard arms of a handsome knight, resting on his solid thighs and broad chest? She was tempted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming all this. It was dangerous, sure, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from exploring whatever she could.
Was she ready to explore the heart of a warrior? Nicholas was offering it to her. Did she accept it along with loyal love to her alone? She didn’t think he would cheat. If it had taken him his whole life to reach out for her, he wasn’t going to reach out to anyone else anytime soon. And that was what she wanted. What she thought she would never find.
He’d opened up to her and let her comfort him—and then he’d kissed her senseless. Oh, he made her want to climb upon him and drive him mad with desire. But she finally had a guy who didn’t push, didn’t force. She didn’t want to have sex with him…yet. She wanted to do things differently this time…since she had been given the chance. She wanted to get to know him first. And he seemed fine with that.
She was falling in love with him and ignoring all the red flags and warning alarms going off in her head. She heard nothing but the deep cadence of his voice. She thought of nothing and no one else but him whether she was eating, sleeping or convincing the scullery maids to demand gloves to protect their skin when scrubbing the floors.
But five days wasn’t long enough to know a person.
Still, she knew he harbored hatred for Richard. In terms of fighting though, he didn’t fight for Richard. So, none of this would change anything.
“I can almost hear you thinking,” he said behind her. “Is it something you wish to speak about?”
She smiled like a satisfied cat. “How is that a scarred and hardened warrior would take note of such a thing and say something so thoughtful?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “If the men of your time cannot do something so simple as lend an ear, then you should leave them.”
She smiled at his suggestion. “And go where?”
He bent his lips to her neck. “Stay here with me.”
“But Nicholas, we hardly know each other.” You don’t know that I’m a Lancaster.
“What do you want to know about me, Kestrel? You know my pleasant moods and my darker ones. Ah! Here is something you don’t know. I want to stop fighting soon and live out my life with a wife I love.”
She leaned up and looked at him. “There you go talking about marriage again,” she quipped.
“I must,” he explained. “I see my children in your eyes.”
How could this be real? How could this man exist here and not there? What if she never made it back. Would being married to Nicholas be so bad? She wanted to laugh. Um, no.
“How many children?” she asked warily.
“Six. I do not know. Eight!”
“Ha! You’re nuts if you think I’m going through childbirth six to eight times with nothing to ease the pain but whiskey. We’d have to live in the future for that.” She grew quiet and thought about it. She did want a lot of kids. “Would you travel to my time with me, Nicholas?”
“We do not even know if you can get back—”
“But if we find a way, would you come with me?”
“Aye… if you left, but living among millions of people does not sound suitable for happiness and raising children… Let us see what Walter says, aye?”
She nodded against him. She didn’t want to leave him, and it was insane! She didn’t fall for men in five days! Maybe instead of just accepting everything that happened, she should fight a little. She had no right to ask a fifteenth century knight to step into the future with her. How would he ever grow accustomed to the bright lights, the quick pace, the sometimes rude people one met on a normal day? What if he killed someone and went to prison for the rest of his life? Prison in her time was probably better than prison in his, but it was still prison.
They remained quiet for the remainder of the trip, but the silence was becoming familiar and comforting. They leaned into each other, listening to the other’s breathing.
They reached Walter’s house after noon. Now, in the daylight, Kes fell in love with the house. It was much bigger than she thought and covered in ivy and other flowering vines. It was at least four stories high with huge windows, their shutters thrown open.
Kes blinked, looking up. Was…was that a bird that just flew out of one of the windows?
“Come. We will talk inside.” Old Walter led them indoors.
This time, they followed him into a large, well-lit hall and were invited to sit at a long trestle table. Ale and black bread with jam were served by a man just a bit younger than Old Walter. His name was Jonathan, and there were two middle-aged women called Edith and Margery.
Kes looked at the large bowl of bread set before them and ate, and the smaller bowls of jams. Not exactly a healthy afternoon snack, but she went with it.
“How is the king this fine day?” Walter asked.
“He is well. Have you given any further thought to what you told us last eve?” Nicholas asked. “It all sounded very odd.”
Walter smiled at him and then flicked his gaze to Kes. “It is very odd, is it not, Miss…ehm, Locksley?”
Her blood drained from her face. She nodded. It was all she could manage as fear overwhelmed her. Why did he say Locksley as if he knew it wasn’t her real name? Her gaze flicked to Nicholas. He was watching them both.
“Are you a native to this time, Walter?” she asked him, tired of playing these silly games.
“What do you mean?” he asked in all innocence.
“How do you come by all these artifacts? Do you acquire them yourself?”
His smile deepened. “Of course not. I get them from the same sort of men whom you have secured.”
“Secured?” she echoed then looked at Nicholas when he spoke.
“Have you found someone already?”
“Aye, and I heard from him just before you arrived. He—”
“How?” Nicholas asked. “How did you hear from him so quickly? Is he right in the village?”
“My lord, ’tis better if—”
“Walter,” Kes interrupted, “please answer the earl’s question.”
“Very well. He is a frequent traveler.”
“What kind of traveler, Walter?” Nicholas demanded.
“A time traveler, my lord.”
Kes felt relief like a flood wash over her. Nicholas didn’t look happy. In fact, he looked ill.
“My lord,” Walter said to him, “I trust now that you care for a traveler, you will say nothing.”
“I’m not a traveler, Walter,” Kes told him. “I was brought here against my will and dropped into the middle of a battlefield!”
“I see,” said the old merchant. “From when?”
“The twenty-first century.”
Walter gave her a pitying look. “This must be extremely difficult.”
She nodded. “It is.” Her gaze found Nicholas rubbing his hands down his face. “But the earl has made it quite nice.”
Walter looked at Nicholas and then at her. “Are you prepared to go back?”
“Yes,” she said with the slightest hesitation.
“All right. Here is what we know so far. The brooch is in the hands of Arthur’s knights in another realm, as I had thought. They are searching for him, waiting for his return. Some say the brooch was crafted by Morgan Le Fey or even Viviane of the Lake to guide her to Arthur, her only love. ’Tis rumored that both sisters loved him, so we do not know who crafted the pin. ’Tis also rumored that Arthur cast his own spell on the brooch, using it to show folks the path toward true love. After being burned several times while it hung from a witch’s cloak, the brooch—”
“It was charred and blackened,” Kes told him on the barest of breaths, realizing how many people had been burned as witches.
“The nine sisters decided something must be done, but the brooch could not be destroyed. They cast further spells around it so that the instant it was used it would return to the hands of the Round Table knights.”
“This is getting crazier as we go,” Kes mumbled. “Those people aren’t even real.”
Walter shrugged his shoulders. “The saying goes that sometimes there is truth in legend.”
“I haven’t heard that saying,” she told him. This didn’t sound right. She wasn’t into magic and sorcery. Sure, it took some kind of magic to bring her back, but all this Lady of the Lake nonsense was too wild—even for her.
There was another answer. What if whatever she was experiencing now wasn’t real? What if she hadn’t traveled back in time but was lying on a hospital bed somewhere in a coma, fantasizing about this dark knight?
She settled her gaze on Nicholas. What if he wasn’t real?
Panic seized her. She wanted him to be real. How would she ever know? What if she recovered from whatever had put her in that hospital bed, and opened her eyes and that was it? He was gone forever? No! Her knees felt weak. She reached her arm out to him.
Nicholas.
He came quickly to her side. “What is it?”
“Are you real?”
Why did it feel like it mattered more than life or death? “If he isn’t real, let me wake up now,” she prayed out loud.
“Kestrel.” Nicholas closed his fingers around her arms. “Look at me! I am real.”
“How do you know?”
“Miss Locksley, he is real,” said Old Walter. “As real as everyone in your day, say… a month ago.”
He’s real. How could this be happening? How could she be falling for a man who could be dead soon when he returns to the battlefield?
She felt like a fool for reaching for him like some needy child. She realized she liked him close because it was the only time she felt safe.
“Forgive my outburst,” she asked them. “I don’t know what came over me. I think this has really been too much.”
“Of course,” Walter assured.
Nicholas stared into her eyes. He wasn’t buying it. He knew there was more. How could she tell him she didn’t want to begin something with him that would end if she could get home—or woke up.
She eyed Walter. “How well do you know this traveler? Or about traveling?”
“Well enough.”
“What are the chances of going back to my time and not three hundred years too far? I don’t think the twenty-fourth century would be to my liking if what’s happened so far is any indication.”
