Lonely is the Knight (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 3) (17 page)

Charlotte thought Henry cared for her. She knew he liked her. Hadn’t they moved beyond like to something deeper? In time, she would call it love. Grumpy, she drank another cup of wine.

The next thing she knew, Charlotte found herself standing outside, the sun shining down on her, in front of the chapel. Father Riley beamed at her then ducked his head. The man was shy and stumbled over his words. She didn’t know why he was nervous; he wasn’t the one getting married to someone who planned to ship him off to another house for the foreseeable future.

A shadow fell across the ground in front of her. Charlotte looked up as the raven cawed, circling above her head. The bird landed on top of the chapel as if watching the proceedings.

It wasn’t too late to stop this farce. She would ask him for a horse and a guide to Falconburg or Blackford. Surely they wouldn’t turn her over to the bishop.
He’ll lose everything. The people will suffer. Are you willing to take the responsibility?

The priest cleared his throat, and she realized she was scowling at him. Now if she told Henry she was from the future, he might lock her up. She’d gotten by so far without having to tell him. Based on everything she’d seen, medieval England was crazy superstitious. While he seemed reasonable and open to new ideas, she kept thinking what she would do if someone told her they were from the past or from the future.

Charlotte snorted, and Henry raised a brow. She shook her head. Jerk.

She’d call the authorities and have them locked up without a second glance. And so she would keep her secret, hoping the powers that be would understand. Didn’t all couples come to a marriage with at least some kind of secret between them?

Henry shifted, and she hoped he was as miserable as she. And wasn’t that mean and snippy? He wasn’t cruel, just damaged. Shaped and forged by his past. In his case, his parents’ relationship. In hers? She quit believing in love after a disastrous high school relationship.

First love. Spencer Todd had been her world. Smart, athletic, nice to everyone. Or so she thought. At the time she was going through a chunky phase, and was shocked when he’d expressed interest. They dated most of sophomore year. He was two years older than her. He invited her to prom. Excited, she and Aunt Pittypat spent the day getting ready. She waited and waited. He never showed up. Never answered his phone or texts. It was all over social media. He’d taken the stuck-up skinny cheerleader. Said he’d never liked a fatty like her. Only dated her to see if she’d put out. After that, Charlotte dated but never gave her heart away again.

Or so she thought. Henry had stolen a chunk when she wasn’t looking. Father Riley stuttered on, and Charlotte decided she was done. The marriage would proceed to save his people and her own skin. She would use his money, influence, and men to find her sisters, and she would live wherever he sent her. It wasn’t as if she could go home. She was stuck in 1330 medieval England, and being married to a powerful noble was the best she could hope for. They would be civil to one another, but she’d be damned if she’d provide him an heir. He could knock up some village girl for all she cared.

Charlotte sniffed. No, she would not cry. Instead she bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. The wind blew the ribbons holding her hair back. They were dark blue to match her dress. That morning she’d been presented with the most amazing dress. It was dark blue with embroidery all over the neckline sleeves and hem. It even had pockets, as Henry had seen them in her dress and knew how fond she was of them. A few of the women had helped her get ready and put her hair up. It was in a mass of curls, and she’d never felt so beautiful in all her life. Pretty and empty inside.

The small things in life. Like someone noticing something you liked and doing it for you without being asked. Pain shot down her arm and side. Why didn’t he care for her the way she cared for him? His actions told her he cared, but after what he said?

It was as if she was having an out-of-body experience. Charlotte knew she was standing in front of the chapel, reciting vows, and yet it didn’t seem as if she were truly present.

She heard something about a ring, felt something heavy and cool slide over her fourth finger. A wide gold band with a large dark amethyst shone in the sunlight.

Just great. She didn’t have a ring for him. Before he told her he was sending her away, she’d made a mental note to have one made, but then everything blew apart. Just as she was about to have a major meltdown from the emotions of the past few days, she felt a tug on her dress. It was Addie.

“My lady. Chester and I took the coins and the sapphire from your bag and had a ring made,” the little girl whispered as she pressed a wide gold band carved with ravens and set with a beautiful sapphire into her hand.
 

Charlotte looked at her blankly.
 

“Don’t you remember, lady? We did ask your permission.”

Heck, all she remembered from the past few days was being furious all the time. This wasn’t the time or place to show her butt, as her aunt would have said.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she accepted the ring.

Addie had come from a noble family to serve as a lady’s maid at the castle, but for some reason she and Addie had never talked about her parents. Charlotte felt bad and made a note to rectify the situation as soon as things calmed down. Would the girl want to go with her to her new home, wherever it was?

She exhaled and slid the ring on Henry’s finger. It fit perfectly. Too bad they no longer fit together.

Henry softly knocked at the door to his own chamber. No, ’twas their chamber now. He ducked as he entered in case she threw something at him. After she raged at him, she had refused to speak to him. Not a word from then until the wedding this afternoon. And then she only answered the vows. During supper she sat quietly, speaking to others when asked a question but otherwise ignoring him.

He’d tried several times to engage her in speech, but she rebuffed his attempts.
 

The women led her to their chamber to make her ready for the wedding night. She threw a pitcher at him when he entered. Told him hell would freeze over before he touched her. Some of her curses…he’d never heard the like, but understood the meaning.

Finally he’d gone across the hall to her room and slept there. Hours later he’d woken. He was an arse. Of course she was angry. She thought he did not want her. He did.

In trying to offer her a way to live apart if she did not want him, he had caused her great offense. He truly cared for her. In her place, he too would be angry. From the moment he’d met her, she had been kind and caring. She was not his mother. He was not his father. Together they were well matched. He would make her understand his meaning.

’Twas early, still dark outside, when he knocked on the door.

“Charlotte. ’Tis time to talk. You cannot remain angry with me the rest of your life.”

“Of course I can.”

“Will you hear me out?”

“Whatever.”

He wasn’t sure what
whatever
meant, but he was a warrior. Henry took a breath.

“I was an arse.”

She snorted.

“I let my parents’ life influence me. I do not want to be apart from you. I only offered you the estate so you would not feel you had to stay at Ravenskirk with me the rest of your life if you did not desire to.”

The light from the fire showed her curves through her chemise. She was beautiful and strong. He wanted her by his side. Needed her.

“Please accept my apology. I care for you a great deal. I believe in time we will grow to love one another. Will you forgive me?”

A tear fell, and Henry wanted to curse. Never again would he be the cause of her tears.

“When you offered me the estate, I thought you didn’t want me around. And after all the stories I heard about your past, I figured you wanted the freedom to be with other women without having me near.” She wrapped her arms around herself, and Henry took a step forward. Seeing the look on her face, he stopped.

“I realize your past is simply that. The past. When I was sixteen, someone hurt me very badly.” She sighed. “I need to work through my own issues. Given we had to marry, well, I didn’t know how you felt about me.” Her voice wavered.

Henry took her in his arms, stroking her hair. “I have been miserable without you by my side. Stay with me. I will do everything in my power to make amends. I care for you a great deal. I know in time I will love you.”

“In time, I think I will love you too. I’m sorry too. I said some hateful things. Forgive me for being such a witch?”

Then she let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t mean a real witch. A witch is someone who isn’t very nice where I come from.”

“I would forgive you anything, Charlotte.”

Charlotte woke in the morning to find Henry gone. Last night she didn’t think she’d eaten more than a few bites during supper. But she’d had way too much to drink. The women had finished undressing her, making all kinds of lewd suggestions as to how she should spend her wedding night. She kept thinking he could have their marriage annulled whenever he got sick of her.

The women left tittering and calling out a few more suggestions. They’d left a plate with some fruit, cheese, and bread, along with plenty of wine.

She sat in front of a low fire staring into the flames. A quiet knock sounded and Henry came into the room. It was a relief he wanted to talk. Stubborn as a mule, her sisters liked to say. At least she’d listened without throwing anything. She was still embarrassed for totally going ballistic and throwing the pitcher at him. Never in her whole life had she behaved in such a way. Aunt Pittypat would have been horrified.

They’d spend the remainder of the night sleeping next to each other. When she woke, she felt as if she hadn’t slept at all. Too much emotional upheaval over the past few days and the added energy drain from their talk last night.

The door opened as she dropped the cloth in the basin and reached for her chemise. Henry gasped. “You have writing on your body.” He walked over to her. “May I?”

Charlotte held the chemise in front of her, baring her side. “They’re called tattoos.”

He knelt, tracing the words with a finger, raising goosebumps on her flesh. What would it be like to feel his touch over the rest of her body?
 

“‘The soul is here for its own joy.’” Henry looked up at her, his breath warm against her skin as he spoke. “’Tis a beautiful saying.”

On his knees, he leaned closer, his hair tickling her flesh.

“Om. What is Om?” Henry peered up at her. “The sound of the universe smiling.”

He leaned back on his heels, looking at her, then it was as if he suddenly realized she was standing there naked before him, except for the chemise covering the important bits.

Henry stumbled to his feet and turned around. “My apologies.”

She pulled the chemise over her head, then the dress. “I’m afraid I can’t do the rest by myself. I’ll call for Addie.”

“I will aid you.” Henry fastened up the dress. It was oddly intimate, him helping her dress. Every day now it would be this way. She was aware of the tiniest movement, his fingers tying laces, his breath on her skin, and the smell of him. Charlotte leaned into him. There was a charge in the air. He gave her a look so full of heat she felt like she was the only woman in the entire world.

“You are the kind of woman men go to war for.” He captured her mouth, and Charlotte kissed him back like a drowning woman given oxygen. They were perfect together.