A Fall Through Time (Stacey and Shane Mcleod, #1) (7 page)

Lady Margaret took charge of Stacey.  “Get yourself changed and dry, son.  Lady Katherine and I will take care of Miss Stacey.”  They put Stacey in dry garments and tucked her into bed: Stacey had not stopped shaking during this process.  “She has the chills,” Lady Katherine said.

By nightfall, Stacey had a fever. She talked in her delirium; however, no one could understand what she was saying.  For three days and nights, someone stayed with her.

The earl had given orders that she was not to be left alone.  On the third night, Lady Margaret came to tell her son that the fever had broken.  It be an hour or so ere midnight. Eric thanked his mother and said, “Now go to bed, Mother I will sit with her.” 

A little after midnight Stacey opened her eyes and looked around.  She knew she was still in the castle that the storm had not taken her home.  Then she saw his lordship; he was sitting in a straight-back chair with his legs crossed.  He winked at her and asked, “How fair ye?”

“I’m naught sure,” she said smiling. “I think I’m starting to adapt to your way of speaking English.”

Stacey threw the covers back and sat up on the side of the bed.  In an instant, he was at her side. “What be ye need lass?”

“I can’t tell you.” 

“Why, can ye not tell me?”

“I don’t want you to get angry with me again.”

Stacey stood up, but the room started spinning.  Eric grabbed her and sat her back on the bed. “What do ye need, Stacey?” Eric asked again. 

“The garderobe,” she said.

Eric pulled out the chamber pot for her. Stacey turned up her nose and said, “No way am I using that.”

“Then I will carry ye,” Eric said, as he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the garderobe.

“Ye be weak, I will go for help.” 

Stacey was weak, but said, “No, I think I can handle this by myself.”

When Stacey was finished, Eric carried her back to bed.  She felt the sensation of well being in his strong protective arms. As he laid her back in the bed, he began to prop pillows behind her.  Stacey’s arms were still around his neck.

As Eric laid her back against the pillows, Stacey smiled at him.  With Frances in mind, he kissed Stacey softly with his lips closed.  When he pulled back and looked at her, her eyes and lips were smiling at him.

Eric grinned, and asked, “Be my kisses a thing of ridicule?”

Stacey ran her finger down his bearded jaw line and said as she pulled him to her, “I think we can do better than that.”

Stacey kissed him with parted lips, touching the tip of her tongue to his lips to part them.  For a second or two he responded, then leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder where her gown had fallen off a bit.  Stacey’s breath caught in her throat.  Eric pulled back and looked at her with a furrowed brow.

Stacey put the palm of her hand on the side of his beard and said, “I’ve wondered what you would look like under all this. You’re not still angry with me, are you?”

Eric sat back, took Stacey’s hand and asked, “Lass, where did ye think the storm be going to take ye?  Ye were frantic that I not be pulled in with ye.  Ye know the stone be broken, do ye not?”

“Yes,” Stacey said. “I remember that. I really thought the storm would take me back. Now I don’t know how I will ever get home.” 

“Do ye now remember where ye home be among other things?  Mayhap ye would tell me how ye came here?”

“That I swear I don’t know,” Stacey said. “I wish I did.”  Where be ye home, lass?” 

“Far to the west across the ocean,” Stacey said.

“How can that be?” he asked.

“I don’t know, maybe because the world is round.” 

“Haa,” Eric said. “I have long believed that myself.  How far be ye home, lass?”

“Many, many thousands of miles away to the west,” Stacey said.

Eric took Stacey’s hand and said, “I do not care if ye came from the moon, lass.  I am glad ye be here.  What be the name of ye country?” 

Stacey looked at him for a few seconds and then she thought, to herself, in for a penny, in for a pound. “It’s called America,” she said.

“America? I have never heard of it.  Who be ye king?” Eric asked with a frown.

“We don’t have kings, we have presidents.” 

Eric was puzzled, he had never heard of such a person. Mystified he asked, “Be they similar to kings?”

“No,” Stacey explained. “They are elected by the people. The people vote every four years. Eight years is the total amount of years a person can serve. We are a democratic country. In our government people hold the supreme power.”   

“Be ye like the Greeks and the Romans ere Caesar?” Eric asked.

“Yes, kind of,” Stacey said. “We do have senators and congressman.” 

Eric looked at Stacey with concern and said, “Ye country has no king?  And no nobility?  Do ye not understand lass; a country with no king be a weak and vulnerable country.” 

“Who told you that?” Stacey asked. “A king perhaps?” 

Eric ignored Stacey’s sarcasm and asked, “Do ye have armies and soldiers?  Does this society have wars?”

Stacey nodded her head and said, “Yes, sometimes, I’m sorry to say.”

“In this land of America, ye have horses?” Eric asked. It was a statement more than a question.

Stacey laughed and said, “Yes, of course we do. Why do you ask?” 

“I watched ye with the horses. I knew ye were familiar with them.” 

“Yes, very much so,” Stacey said. “I grew up on a ranch.” Just thinking about her home brought tears to her eyes.

Eric noticed and tenderly asked, “What be this ranch ye speak of lass?”

“It’s like a big farm, except we raise horses and cattle. Ours is a big country and there are many people to feed.”

With much curiosity, Eric asked, “Ye said ye learned to read at university. Do men and women go there together?” 

“Yes, men and women are equal in my country; however, I learned to read long before I went to the university.”

“Why did ye come to England to dig up old civilizations? Have ye naught of ye own?” 

“Yes, we have some; however, my country isn’t as old as your country.” 

“Where be this old Roman place that ye be digging?” Eric inquired. 

Stacey told him without thinking, “It’s just outside Druid’s Grove.  The old Druid religion worshiped trees.  They held many of their ceremonies there.” 

“Yes, I know of it, it be a pagan religion.”

“Did you know Wallingford was an old roman town?  It’s just between Reading and Oxford,” Stacey said, enthusiastically.

“We will talk more later, ye must rest now and get strong again,” Eric encouraged. He wanted nothing more than to stay and hold her in his arms, but common sense told him to go. He felt if he could find her a way back to her home and family her father would consider his suit of her.

“Will you kiss me one more time before you go?” Stacey asked. She knew she was being too forward, but she didn’t care. It seemed her whole world had turned up side down and he was the one strong force that she could hold onto.

Eric was surprised by her candor but admired her straight forwardness. With a gentle touch he kissed her and said, “Get strong lass and we will do more than kiss.” 

Stacey watched him walk out the door and wondered to herself; was I meant to be here and never go back.  Better yet, am I supposed to take Eric back with me?  Could this be my destiny?  Well, it could be worse.  Stacey fell asleep dreaming of how Eric would be amazed at the things he would experience in her time.

Stacey spent most of the day sleeping.  Someone checked on her every so often.  They woke her at mid-day to eat a light meal.  When the eventide meal came, Stacey wondered why his lordship had not been back to see her. The next day when Rodric came to visit, she asked, “Where’s your brother?” 

“I do not know,” he answered. “He left early yester morn on business, I am told. He promised to return ere my birthday.”

Stacey wondered what was so important that he left while she was still weak.  In three days time she was much improved.  She wanted to be strong and looking good by the time Eric returned.  Stacey thought little about anything except what Eric had implied when he said, “Get strong lass and we will do more than kiss.”  Whatever it is, she thought, I want it.

Eric had been gone five days when the guard at the gate announced, “His lordship is coming.”

It had been an anxious four days.  Stacey had slept through the first day.  Now she was nervous to see him again after that first night.  Everyone was in the great hall when the servants helped his lordship in with his companions. Stacey’s heart fell when she realized it was Lord Hampton and not Eric that they meant. Lady Margaret and Rodric were very happy to see Lord Thomas and of course, Stacey was too.  He was such a nice person and he had left Sir Perceval to watch over her so she forced herself to put her disappointment aside. It was best if no one knew how she felt about Eric, anyway.

Rodric had come to stand beside her to tell her they had another guest.  It was Lady Isabelle Nelson.

“Yes, your father said a friend of Eric’s was with him.” 

Just then, the most beautiful woman Stacey had ever seen stepped into the hall with servants in tow.  She was blonde, short and voluptuous with breasts so big; Stacey wondered how she didn’t topple over.  She had a tiny waist and ample hips and wore the most beautiful clothes.

“Are you ready for this?” Rodric asked.

“What?” Stacey asked.

“That is Lady Isabelle Nelson.  She is Eric’s mistress.”

Stacey was speechless...well not for long.  She said to Rodric, “So that’s the type of woman he prefers.” 

“I suppose so,” Rodric said. “They have been together about two years now.”

Stacey hurt like she had never hurt before and she was angry.  How stupid she felt.  She had read books about the kind of men these people were.  They thought nothing of using women and dumping them when they were finished with them.  Well, she wasn’t here to be his plaything.  If that short, flussy blonde is what he wants, he can sure as heck have her. Stacey thanked her lucky stars nobody knew what a fool she had almost been.

After the new guest was all settled in her rooms she came downstairs. Lord Hampton introduced her to Stacey. “How do you do,” Stacey greeted her. “I’m Rodric’s friend.”

Lady Isabelle was not interested in Stacey or whose friend she was.  She kept looking around and then finally asked, “Where be his lordship?”

“We be not sure,” Lady Margaret said. “He left on business a few days ago.  Was he aware ye were coming?” 

“No, Lord Hampton did not tell ye we met on the road from Hampton Hall? 

Since he was coming to Dun-Raven, I decided to come along too and celebrate Rodric’s birthday.  How many years have ye now, Rodric?” Lady Isabelle inquired. 

“Eighteen, Lady Isabelle,” Rodric said.

It was a few days more before the earl of Dun-Raven returned and this woman never stopped her constant chattering.  Two days gave Stacey enough time for anger and recrimination to set in and take hold.  Stacey had never been this angry with anyone in her life.  She called herself all kinds of idiots for thinking she was in love with this...this...man.  She couldn’t think of a word bad enough to describe him.  Stacey remembered an old adage she had heard about, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’  Well, she wasn’t sure about the scorned part, but she was full of fury. Stacey thought about it and decided she had mistaken gratitude for love with her being ill and lost from her home and the trauma

of not knowing how to get back. Perhaps this little upset was best and she would not make this mistake again.

The Mistress

S
tacey was out riding with Rodric, Callie, Nicole and her husband Robin, a young knight and Sir Perceval.  They were talking and joking about Lady Isabelle and saying what a beautiful woman she was. They all knew she was his lordship’s mistress.

Stacey asked, “Do you suppose she ever shuts up or does she ramble on in her sleep?”  Stacey shivered at the though of this woman lying in Eric’s arms and chatting nonsense made her nauseous to her stomach. Isabelle was the most loquacious person Stacey had ever met.

Nicole made a sly remark, “Mayhap we should ask his lordship.”  Everyone laughed at Nicole’s innuendo except Stacey.

“I think I’ll pass on supper tonight,” Stacey said.

When they returned to the castle around mid afternoon, a herald was in the hall to inform the Earl of Dun-Raven of the tournament to be held in Westminster in six weeks time.  Things had just quieted down when noise from the bailey caught their attention. “It be his lordship,” someone said.

It was the earl this time.  He did not get inside the hall good before Isabelle was on him.  She kissed him and held on to his arm with such ownership.  Stacey wanted to puke, but instead she went and sat on the stairs.  Everyone was talking and asking questions.  Eric looked up and saw Stacey sitting at the top of the stairs.

With his voice full of authority, he said, “I would speak with ye in my parlor, Miss Scott.”

Stacey knew him well enough to know he was furious.  Well, by all that’s holy, so was she and she wasn’t about to listen to any of his excuses. Lies would probably be a more appropriate word.

Inside, with the door closed Eric turned on her. “Why did ye lie to me?” he asked.  “Did it do ye well to play me for a fool?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stacey said, “but being played for a fool is your game, not mine.  How dare you kiss me and say sweet things when you knew your mistress was coming here, or did you send a runner to summon her here?”

“Leave Isabelle out of this,” Eric said. “I went to Druid’s Grove.  I searched for miles around.  There be no people digging anywhere near there and not one of the learned people I spoke with has ever heard of a country west of here.”

Disgusted, Stacey said, “The Vikings have lived in Iceland since long before eleven hundred A.D. If your learned people are so darn smart how is it they don’t know that?” Stacey’s anger let loose and she exploded, “Besides all that what happened to, ‘I don’t care if you came from the moon,’ crap?  Huh?  Or were you just playing kissy poo with me, while you were waiting for your mistress to get here?”