Darkest Knight (9 page)

“A bit of a fixer-upper, huh?”

He understood the meaning behind the strange words. “Blackmoor has withstood battles. A few holes in the roof won’t bring the walls down. Mayhap we will have company in our beds.”

“What? Like bedbugs? Rats?” She was as skittish as a filly. “We don’t have castles where I come from. There are big houses, but nothing like this.”

And something about the way she said it made him pause. He always assumed his home would stand for hundreds of years, long after he’d turned to dust. To think it no longer stood in her time cracked the ice he’d built around his heart so long ago. What had happened to Blackmoor? Did it fall to his enemies?

“There are no more castles?”

Anna touched his arm, the heat of her touch warming him from inside.
 

“Where I come from there were never castles to begin with. There are many castles in England and other countries. Though I don’t know if Blackmoor is still standing. I’d only arrived in London two days before I ended up here. I didn’t have time to see the countryside.”

She reached up to wipe rain from her face. It was raining harder outside, thunder in the distance.

Anna knocked the platter onto the floor. “Sorry. There was a terrible storm when…everything happened. I’ve never liked storms.” She nibbled a bit of cheese, her hand trembling.

“I do know the Tower of London stands. As do Buckingham Palace and Westminster Abbey.” She wrinkled her nose, thinking. “Forget what I said about Buckingham Palace. It hasn’t even been built yet. It was built in the early 1700s, if I remember my history correctly.”

He was curious about her time. Wanted to know more. “When did a queen take the throne?”

She bit her lip, which he found rather fetching. “Queen Mary was the first. Sometime in the mid-1500s.”

He tried to accept the knowledge a woman held the throne and did not have absolute power. “Why does your country not have a ruler?”

“People from Europe came to America to get away from the monarchy. We have a president and congress. But it’s not like anyone can order your head chopped off because you made them mad.”

Her eyes turned the color of moss when she laughed.

“Though I think I’d like to be queen. It would be nice to say
off with their heads
and get rid of anyone I didn’t like.”

“You’re rather bloodthirsty for such a small slip of a girl, Anna Waters.”

She blushed. He reached out to stroke her cheek then snatched his hand back. He was a wanted man and would likely not live long. He could not afford to open his heart to a woman. Especially one who claimed to be from the future. She would return to her own time, where he had been dead and turned to dust for hundreds of years. Would she marry? The thought of another man touching her made him want to throw something.

The steward returned. “The rats have been at the bedding.”

“Wonderful. And I thought cockroaches were bad,” Anna muttered as she bit into the bread.

John fought to keep a straight face. “I must confess, I do not remember your name.”

The man scratched at his whiskers. “I suspect I had a bit more hair then. My name is Emory. My father and brother served ye as well.”

The memory came back. A slight man with hair as black as night. Piercing blue eyes, all of them. John recognized the eyes.

“My apologies. I remember now. You took good care of me and have my gratitude for staying.”

“Where would I go? I was born here. Lived here all my life, and I will die at Blackmoor.”

He motioned for them to follow. “The chamber is this way.”

Emory led them through the hall and up a flight of stairs. Memories flooded John’s thoughts. A small part of him wished circumstances were different. He wished to rebuild his home. See his brothers. And perchance to find a woman to care for him. But that was not to be his life.

They reached the chamber, and Emory opened the door.

“Won’t be much for supper tomorrow, but I’ll see what I can do.” He left them standing in the room.

“Is my room across the hall?” There was a strange look on Anna’s face, and it took John a moment to realize why.

“Remain here.” He quickly crossed the hall and opened the door to the other chamber. There was a great, gaping hole in the wall and he could see outside to the trees. The other two chambers were in even worse repair. He came back dusting his hands on his hose.

“This is the only chamber. I will sleep on the floor.”

She looked horrified. “The stone is cold. You’ll get sick.” Turning to face the bed, she said quietly, “We slept next to each other while we traveled.”

“’Twas different.”

“No, it wasn’t. You said you were a knight, so I will expect you to behave honorably and we will share the bed.”

He reeled back. “Nay, we cannot. You are not wise to trust my intentions. I have been a bandit as long as a knight.”

“Whatever. Why can’t we share?”

“People will talk. Your reputation is at risk.”

“There’s no one here but Emory, and I don’t think he cares. Anyway, it’s not like you’re going to ravish me or anything.”

The thought had not crossed his mind until she said it. John could well imagine them together. Her long hair spread over the pillow, shimmering in the candlelight. A rosy hue to her skin as he brought her pleasure. He shifted from foot to foot.

“Nay. I would not think to lay a finger upon you.”

Was it his imagination or did she look distressed by his words?

“I will sleep in the kitchens. Sleep well, Anna.” He left her standing there.

The next day, they explored John’s home. At least she was able to wash her bra and hang it to dry before she went to sleep.

The bed was lumpy, and she dreamt bedbugs crawled over her, but other than that she slept well. When John told he’d never lay a finger on her, at first she wanted to cry. Then she wanted to smack him, and finally, she accepted he wasn’t attracted to her like she was to him.

When she had a few moments alone, she threw her undies in the fire. The elastic was coming apart and there was a hole in the side. For the first time since she’d moved from diapers to underwear, Anna went without. Exhausted, she fell asleep in the afternoon and woke to the sound of a soft knock at the door.

“Supper is ready.”

She threw her hair up in a ponytail, tying it with the string she’d used on her braid.

“I’m famished.”

“Then we shall make haste.” Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, he took her hand and led her to the kitchens. He did what many could not. Confused her.

Anna could have kissed Emory. He served them a delicious hot meal. After he hemmed and hawed for a bit, the man finally agreed to eat with them in the kitchen. With the gaping hole in the roof of the hall it would have been like eating outside in a storm. Not to mention there weren’t any furnishings, so they would have been sitting on the cold stone floor. In the kitchen, there was a cozy fire in the hearth, they were inside, and she ate off an actual plate. Life was good.

Emory pushed back from the table. “I’ll see to the horses, my lord.”

“John. Not
my lord
. Not anymore.”

The man frowned, muttering.
 

“Thank you for supper, Emory. It was delicious.”

He beamed at her. Anna thought he was in a hurry to get away from them because he was uncomfortable with how casual John was. The steward had tried to call him
my lord
several times, and each time John corrected him. She could understand Emory. He was raised serving the Thornton family and would always think of John as Lord Blackmoor. John, though…he’d lost everything, and she thought the title reminded him of not only the things he had lost but the loss of his family. And ten whole years.

If she were still in modern-day Florida, there was no way Anna would’ve freed a man from prison. Let alone traveled with him across a country she was unfamiliar with. Here in medieval England, it seemed a perfectly normal thing to do. Her entire life she had been content to sit on the sidelines. To be invisible. Hiding in the corners.

When driving the speed limit, she was nervous when a cop passed her. Now she was a criminal. By the simple act of turning a key in a lock. Would the soldiers arrest her and throw her in the tower for what she had done? Worse, would she pay with her life for a decision made on impulse? Her incarceration certainly wouldn’t be all Martha Stewart knitting ponchos and gathering salad greens.

Treason was serious stuff even in her time. It had to be worse here. Her stomach did flip-flops from thinking about being locked in one of the cells. During their travels, John explained you had to pay for accommodations. Pay for your food, blankets, basically for everything.

She had no money. Nor any jewels. If they locked her up, she would have nothing to offer. And someone without means would die quickly in the tower or face difficult choices. She heard the awful cries as they’d escaped. Anna swallowed, remembering the man she saw lying dead in his cell, eyes open and unseeing. He was dressed in rags, his leg shaking as vermin moved in the dim light. A shudder went through her.

“You are quiet this eve. It is aught amiss?”

“I’m usually quiet. But there seems to be something about you that makes me talk more.” And stand up for herself. Knowing he wasn’t interested in her made it easy to banter back and forth. Just once, couldn’t the hot guy fall for the mousy girl?

She tore the bread on the plate in front of her into small pieces. In the corner of the kitchen, a mouse sat up, whiskers twitching. Before she considered what she was doing, Anna threw him a tiny piece of bread. He grabbed it and scurried into a hole in the corner. She knew she was asking for trouble. Feeding a mouse. Where there was one there were probably hundreds. But he looked so cute and hungry that she couldn’t resist.
Run across me while I sleep, though, and I’ll be getting a cat, Mr. Mouse.

“If this is you talking more, mistress. I would hate to see when you are silent.” John smiled. He was utterly charming even while he was obviously distracted. She hadn’t been the only one quiet tonight. Coming home must make him feel the full weight of his troubles bearing down on him.

“I’m just tired. It’s been a long journey.”

“I will send Emory for clothes for you tomorrow, and a bath. Would that please you?”

What would it be like if he turned the full impact of those kind brown eyes upon her and saw her truly for the first time? Part of her wanted to find out. But the other part…

“Very much. I’m afraid if I go too much longer, flies will start following me around.”

He grinned. “I would follow you, stench or not.”

If only. A girl could dream.

“I know you need to stay away from the tower. And I certainly understand, given the circumstances. But I must find a way back home. I have to believe since I fell through time in the Tower of London, that is where I must go to make my way home.”

“And if you cannot go home? Then…”

He seemed almost ready to tell her something and then changed his mind. She shrugged it off.

“I have to stay positive. There are those who need me at home. Depend upon me for their welfare.”

He opened his mouth ask her a question when they heard a commotion in the hall.

John jumped to his feet, sword and dagger in hand.

“Is that any way to greet your brother?”

Anna couldn’t believe her eyes. She was looking at another Hollywood hunk. He looked younger than John. He didn’t have the same worries etched across his face. She would’ve known them as brothers anywhere.

John sheathed his blades and went to his brother, who promptly punched him in the face. Knowing when to get out of the way, Anna sat on the edge of the table as John and his brother exchanged blows. Soon they were rolling around on the floor, cursing at each other. At least, she assumed they were cursing. The words sounded sort of like French. What was it with men and fighting? Maybe it was like women meeting and sizing up each other’s appearances.

John brushed the dust from his tunic, blood running down the side of his face. He held out a hand to his brother.