Authors: Cynthia Luhrs
“Will you help her go back to her time? Send a messenger. Have one of your brother’s wives come. They could talk to her, tell her what needs be done.”
Robert snarled. “You know I cannot. What happened because of my carelessness.”
Thomas shifted from foot to foot. “’Twas not your fault. You could not have known someone would take the information to the king. You could not have known they would kill those they found in the woods.”
His captain put a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “You must let go of the guilt. Tell John what happened. There is nothing to forgive, but he will forgive you. Your brothers must wonder why you have been absent of late.”
Robert grimaced. “I cannot. Not while Connor is here. The risk is too great.” He looked down, remembering when he’d found out what his careless words had wrought. “Mistress Elizabeth is a fine woman, but ’tis not safe for her at Highworth. For if any find out I am aiding Connor, I will be tried for treason and hanged. She would be all alone in this world with no family to care for her.”
“I would see her to one of your brothers. They would aid her.”
“Perchance you are right, Thomas. As much as it pains me, we must play along with this ruse. Ensure Elizabeth thinks I despise her. Once Connor is safe and I fetch her back, then I will explain all.”
Thomas pursed his lips. “Women are mercurial creatures. ’Tis not wise for her not to know what you are plotting. We should tell her. A future girl would understand your reasons.”
Robert shook his head. “No. She must believe I cannot stand the sight of her.”
“You care for her.”
“Nay. I would aid her. See her back home. Nothing more.”
Thomas raised a brow. “I will remind you of this when she’s throwing her trencher at your head.”
Did a man wait for her? The thought of another man possessing her made Robert see black.
If only Elizabeth hadn’t opened the magazine, perhaps things would have turned out differently. Sunshine would bring over pizza and help her figure out what to do for a living. No more jail time, and under no circumstances of any kind would she find herself locked up in a dungeon of a castle. Especially while the infuriating owner pranced around as if he fancied himself some kind of medieval lord.
“This is an adventure. Find the fun.” Her voice echoed on the stone as she remembered the advice her mom gave her whenever something didn’t go well. “Hello? If there’s a dragon down here, it would be fun if you’d turn Robert the conceited jerk into beef jerky.”
Didn’t dragons like gold? She didn’t have any, but she could probably find Robert’s stash and give it to the dragon in return for flying her out of here.
She kicked the pallet and watched the cloud of dust filter down through the dim light. There weren’t any windows; the only light came from the torches around the walls. Torches. Why not electric lights down here? From everything she’d seen, the castle had been updated with electricity. Well, most of it. The chamber she’d snuck into didn’t have a light switch. It was possible the owner hadn’t gotten around to updating the basement. Or, more likely, this idiot had deluded himself into thinking he was living in the past.
When she shook the blanket covering her tiny bed, she sneezed. Even as a child she’d made her bed every day. Couldn’t stand the sight of a wrinkle-rumpled mess. As she shook the blanket once more, a few twigs went flying and she heard a squeak. A mouse scurried through the bars to freedom.
“Wish I could fit through those.”
Her voice was loud in the silence. She heard a soft chuckle from the man stationed near the stairway. He was the same guy who’d been there last night when Robert threw her in here. The guy coughed and pretended he hadn’t laughed. Maybe he would help?
“Excuse me? You over there.”
The man came toward her and she looked hard at him. The clothing he wore looked authentic. It must have cost a boatload. And his sword looked pointy and sharp. The first tremors of unease flowed through her, but she ruthlessly pushed them away.
“Mistress?”
“Can I get some water? And when am I getting out of here?”
The man scratched his ear. “Water? ’Tis not safe to drink. I will fetch you some ale.” He cleared his throat. “You cannot leave. My lord says you are to stay and I am to guard you.”
At least he left to fetch her something to drink. The man came back and handed her the cup of beer. He also handed her food in a wooden bowl. Some kind of stew and a chunk of bread. It was the bread that made her examine every moment from the time she’d woken to find Robert in her bed.
The bread had a few tiny pebbles in it. As far she knew, there was nowhere in England where she would expect to be served rocks in the bread. The man’s speech was odd, and up close his clothing looked handmade. Maybe they had a seamstress on the payroll that made the clothing by hand?
“Thank you for the beer and food.”
The man looked uncomfortable, averting his eyes from her. “Janet is bringing you something to wear.” He went back to his post by the door, turning away from her. Her stomach growled, protesting no food for an entire day. During protests she’d gone without food for hours, and longer when she’d been arrested, but she liked three meals a day. The stew was delicious, even if the vegetables were a little mushy. Busy scraping the bowl, she didn’t hear the young girl approach. The man who’d brought the food was with her.
He looked to Elizabeth. “Do not try to run. If you do, it will go badly for you.”
When she moved to the far corner of the cell, he opened the door. The young girl had her arms full of clothing. The man was carrying what looked like a pair of leather shoes. He locked the door behind the girl.
“Janet does not speak.”
The child watched her, not making any move to put the clothes down.
“I’m Elizabeth. Are those for me?”
The girl nodded.
“Thank you. It’s hard keeping a blanket wrapped around you all the time.”
The girl blushed. If she had to guess, Elizabeth would peg her at six or seven. What on earth had happened to her? She had the look of a trauma victim. The girl had black hair and brown eyes that were much too old for her.
Janet held up what looked like a nightgown or summer dress. The man coughed.
“’Tis a chemise. I will turn around while she assists you.”
Elizabeth dropped the blanket. Growing up with her free-spirited parents, she’d learned at an early age not to be embarrassed by nudity. Janet helped Elizabeth into the chemise. It felt like linen, soft and worn, with tiny flowers around the neckline and hem. It must’ve taken someone forever to sew and embroider this by hand.
Next the girl helped her into one of the most beautiful dresses she’d ever seen. It was made out of wool, dyed a deep blue, and the embroidery was exquisite. Flowers and vines had been stitched around the neckline, sleeves, and hem. The dress was formfitting at the top, billowing out at the bottom. There were tons of buttons. No way she could undress herself. No zipper or pockets. The work that went into such a garment… She swayed. If this was all part of an elaborate joke, it had gone too far.
She smoothed her hands down the wool, grateful for the warmth. The girl fastened a cloak around her that was trimmed was some kind of fur. It too was wool, with intricate embroidery.
Janet held up a dark blue cloth and pointed at Elizabeth’s hair. Then she touched it before snatching her hand back.
Before Elizabeth could hold it in, she burst out laughing. “I am not a faerie. I’m not here curse anyone, harm you, or take anyone under the hill to faerie land. All I want is to enjoy the rest of my week.”
The girl looked dubious, but pinned up Elizabeth’s hair. Then her small hands quickly laced the slightly pointed leather shoes.
Elizabeth’s stomach plummeted down to her toes. Was this some kind of scam? Had she gotten herself involved in a crazy cult? She put a hand on Janet’s arm. “I’m just like you. Where I come from, people make their hair different colors.” She paused and took a deep breath, being sure to pitch her voice low so the man guarding her wouldn’t overhear.
“Are you here against your will, Janet?”
The girl shook her head. Elizabeth tried again.
“Do you have TV? Internet? A phone?”
The girl’s eyes were huge as she shook her head again. The child flinched as Elizabeth kicked her makeshift bed.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Just freaking great. This was definitely some kind of cult. “Don’t be afraid of me. I’ll find a way to get us both out of here.”
The girl looked terrified as she banged on the door. The keys in the lock made Elizabeth jump. The girl ran out of the cell as if chased by some kind of movie monster.
When the door slammed shut, Elizabeth sat on the stool, thinking. Not only did she have to save herself, she had to find a way to save Janet. Who would’ve guessed the eccentric owner of the castle was running a cult? The contest must be the way they got women to come here. Once they were here, he locked them away. She had to escape before they sold her or did who knew what else to her.
“Janet. Did you see the faerie?”
The girl nodded.
Rabbie leaned close. “I’ve never met a faerie before, but Mistress Elizabeth seems rather tall for a faerie.”
“Faeries can change so they look like us. She cannot be trusted.” Joan nodded knowingly, and Robert suppressed a chuckle. He stepped into the kitchen.
“You helped her to dress?”
The girl nodded.
He knew he was being cruel. His mother would not have approved of how he was treating a woman. Both his parents had raised him to treat women with the utmost care, and now he had one locked in his dungeon. A future girl who, through no fault of her own, had ended up at Highworth. When he explained all, she would laugh. He hoped she would.
“Rabbie, make sure no one goes down to the cellar.”
The boy bobbed his head. Joan hurried off and Robert caught Rabbie looking after her with longing eyes.
“You know you can always live with John at Blackmoor.”
The boy sighed. “Nay. When I spoke to him, he gave me his blessing to serve you. I miss him and the others, but I cannot leave Joan.” The wistful look on his face made Robert wish he could tell the boy there would be many women in his life, but instead he offered aid.
“As much as it would pain me to lose you and Joan, if you would prefer to serve John, I will send her with you to Blackmoor.”
The boy looked as if he were considering the offer, but Robert hoped he would not go. For he had become fond of the boy over the past few years, grateful John had sent him to Highworth that dark day.
“Joan has family in the village. We will stay here.”
“As you wish. Now run along and make sure no one finds our guest.”
Robert heard a commotion in the great hall, the sound of voices. There he found Featherton greeting his guests. Robert spoke to two of the men, who always brought fine horses with them. Then he stepped outside to meet the rest. Carriages and horses filled the courtyard. Stable boys scampered about. The men, other third and fourth sons like him, richly dressed and eager to spend a few days enjoying themselves, departed from the carriages.
As he counted his guests, the most ornate carriage of all rolled to a stop. He knew it well. It was Paul, Lord Radford. The man spent more time at court than he did at his own estates. Always trying to curry favor with the king, he would be first in line to inform their sire that Robert was giving shelter to a wanted man.
“Radford. Welcome to Highworth.”
The man looked around as he descended from the carriage making a face as if he smelled something dead. “’Tis smaller than I remembered.”
Robert knew it was going to be a trying few days, but refrained from saying so. “If you follow me, Featherton will see you settled in the best chamber.”
“I hope you have found quality wenches for the festivities. Not those slovenly tavern wenches from the village.”
“I believe you will be quite satisfied.”
Robert greeted the rest of the guests and made sure the servants provided wine to all in attendance. Once everyone was inside the hall, he gave the order for the feast to begin.
Platters piled high with mutton, stag, pheasant, and rabbit were placed on the tables, along with bread, cheeses, carrots, and winter squash. Musicians played, and Robert was gratified to see the envy on Radford’s face. He had paid dearly for them to be here for the next sen’night. Though he hoped, if all went well, his guests would be gone in a day or so. Robert planned to spread a rumor that there was illness. Nothing drove nobles away as quickly as the thought of becoming ill.
“The wenches will attend us after supper. We will play chess and wager.”
One of the men raised a cup. “Horse racing tomorrow.”
Another man halfway down the table raised his. “My horses are faster. I plan to depart with your gold.”
They laughed, and Robert nodded at the servants to bring in the next course and more wine.
Featherton leaned down close to his ear. “The wenches have arrived. Shall I have them brought in?” He sniffed, the disapproval evident in his tone.
“Give them ale and bring them in.”
The men banged their cups on the table as the women entered the hall. They were all shapes and sizes, something to please every man in attendance. Robert had gone to great expense to ensure his guests’ pleasure. Some of the women pulled the men to the center of the hall to dance. Servants cleared the tables, pushing the benches and tables to the sides of the hall. Several would be left near the fire for those who wished to play chess.
’Twas as good a time as any to check on his guest. Robert slipped away from the hall and up the stairs, nodding to the guard on duty.
Connor opened his eyes and groaned as he struggled to sit up.
“I hear music. Ye know ’tis not wise. If anyone finds me here, will be both our heads.”
Robert poured the man a glass of wine. “Did you drink the healer’s foul brew tonight?”