First Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 3) (5 page)

“
Do you have to ruin my fantasy?”

The voice ignored her. Still, it would be a nice escape for a few weeks. Would someone in the future invent a device to travel back in time? Take tourists to interesting dates and places, allowing them to observe but not interact? That would be the trip of a lifetime. Jennifer hoped it would come to pass while she was still alive to try it out. Go science.

“Here we are.”

Lost in daydreams of wandering through Somerforth with a handsome knight at her side after a busy day slaying dragons, the sound of Edith’s voice made her jump a foot. The honorable knight had just about been to swear his undying love for all eternity. It was so real, she had to blink several times to re-enter reality.

Jennifer let out a long sigh. She’d rather stay single and alone forever than end up like her mom. Desperately chasing men and marrying them, only to realize they weren’t going to change, or they wanted someone else. The advent of so much technology and connectedness had habituated people to constantly look for the next good thing, never satisfied with who or what they had. Jennifer would rather be alone than risk the heartbreak she’d watched her mother suffer through.

“Jennifer?”

“Sorry. I was somewhere else.”

“Somerforth has that effect on many.” Edith blew the dust off an old, battered book, the spine coming apart, the dark green cover cracked and faded to a greenish gray, the gold lettering almost completely worn off. When she turned the pages, the intoxicating smell of old books filled the air, mingling with the scent of tea and flowers.

“If I could bottle the way it smells in here, I’d make a fortune.”

“There’s nothing like the smell of an old book, is there?”

As Jennifer nodded, Edith added, “My daughter bought me one of those tablets for Christmas. I like the immense number of books I can take with me on holiday, but there’s something magical about turning a page and feeling the words seep into your skin as you read.”

“Absolutely. I remember when I used to pack one suitcase full of books for a trip. I brought a solar charger so I wouldn’t have to worry about a power source.”

Edith stopped on a page, and Jennifer caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her mouth hung open, and she looked like she was in a trance. There on the page, staring up at her, was Somerforth Castle.
Exactly
as she’d imagined it.

“The castle was something back in the day. It was immense, and many said it was never the same after Lord Somerforth fell in battle. Time passes; young people go off to live in the city. Not to mention it’s terribly expensive to maintain a castle. Eventually, if the grand homes aren’t opened to tourists or given over to be preserved, they fall to ruin. Like what happened with Somerforth.”

“This is such a treat. I looked everywhere but couldn’t find any pictures of what it used to look like. Would you mind if I took a picture of the page?”

“Not at all.” Edith stood back as Jennifer captured the image on her phone. The woman ran a finger over the drawing.

“As far as I know, this is the only image of Somerforth. It’s not really surprising. There are a great many castles in the world, and this one wasn’t historically important.” She chuckled. “There was a long-running feud with a clan across the border. Last month the doctor was talking about sheep going missing and turning up at a farm in Scotland. Old habits die hard.” Edith touched Jennifer’s arm. “You’re pale. Sit and I’ll pour you a cup of tea.”

Jennifer sank down into a floral chair. The shopkeeper brought out a silver tray with two teacups. The delicate cups were decorated with roses, and there was a choice of milk or lemon. “A spot of tea will have you going again.”

Sipping the brew, Jennifer focused on taking slow, deep breaths until the sensation of being in two places at once passed. Her overactive imagination was getting the better of her. For a moment she swore she was in a lady’s solar, stitching a floral border on a man’s tunic.

Tonight she’d better switch from reading historical fiction to something else. Maybe a thriller or cozy mystery. Obviously being in such close proximity to a real castle was sending her imagination into overdrive.

“I feel much better. Sorry to cause a fuss. I’m getting hungry, that’s all.” She couldn’t tell Edith she’d sketched the very same castle in all its glory based on a daydream. Edith would think she was as batty as the re-enactors.

“It’s getting late, I’d better pick up lunch and get back. Thank you for the tea and showing me the book. I’ll be back again.”

“Glad you’re feeling better. It was lovely to chat, and next time we’ll invite Laura. She always has brilliant book recommendations.”

The walk down the street to the pub cleared her head. Not wanting to be late, Jennifer was in and out of the pub so fast she barely had time to take in the decor. The drive back was a bit easier, and she hoped soon she wouldn’t have to think so hard about which side of the road to drive on. Bags of pies and salads dangling from her arms, she found everyone gathered around a grassy area off to the left side of the grid they’d been working that morning.
 

“Lunch is here. What’s going on?”

The professor popped up. “Set those down and come see. It’s quite extraordinary.”

Jennifer put the bags on the wooden tables and hurried over as Mark made room for her to squeeze in.

“Monica tripped over a rock, and when she went down, she caught sight of something in the loose dirt. The rain last week must have uncovered it.” Mark pointed, but before he could say anything, Guy appeared, flushed and breathing heavily.

“Heard you found a dagger. Can we see?”

The blade was triangular, tapering evenly from the hilt down to the point. It looked like it had been buried a long time.

“I bet it was lost during a battle.”

“Maybe we’ll find bones deeper down.”

Others weighed in as each person squatted down for a closer look. The pommel bore faint markings that might have been words but had been worn away long ago.
 

“A brilliant find. Why don’t we stop for lunch and celebrate?” The professor beamed as he called for beer to accompany the meal.
 

Even Monica was in a good mood, and complimented Jennifer on her bracelet as they filled in around the tables. The professor cast a worried look to the dig as thunder sounded in the distance. “Better secure the tarps before the storm hits, and we’ll move the meal to the big tent.”

“I’ll take the beer and you get the food.” Mark pulled the coolers by their handles and sprinted across the grass. When she finished moving the food, Jennifer pulled the side curtains so if it did start raining they wouldn’t get soaked. As she was counting out napkins and silverware, the wind picked up, carrying the sound of bagpipes.
 

“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something?”

But there was no answer as the ghostly piper played on, the last notes ending as she wiped the wetness from her cheeks. The melancholy tune suited the ominous sky, dark clouds rolling over the blue, absorbing the light, replacing it with dark gray, silver, and the palest grayish blue. Despite the warmth of the day, Jennifer shivered.

With a thrust, Edward disarmed his opponent as the man’s sword abruptly left his hand. Edward deftly caught it and handed it to the man.

“Better. Now begone.” He scowled at the womanly lot before him. He had been too easy on his men of late, mayhap he would run through the entire garrison by twos. ’Twas going to be a most enjoyable morn. He turned to the next man, bored. “Draw your blade.”

The man went to his knees. “Bloody hell. Enough.”

Edward grinned and clapped the man on the back, sending him into the mud. “A fine display, whelp.” Then he turned to what was left of his garrison. “Who else? None?”

One of his men stepped forward. “Not so fast, my lord. I fear he took it easy on you.” The man smirked and Edward quickly stepped forward, laughing as the man’s smirk was repressed, replaced with fierce concentration. No one smirked at him.

Swordplay kept his mind off what had transpired. He knew helping Connor last winter would have dire consequences. The bloody Scot had saved Robert’s life, and that was how Edward found himself transporting Connor from Highworth Castle to Somerforth, where the man could make his way across the border. He’d come to a grudging respect for the warrior, though it didn’t mean he wouldn’t kill him if they came face to face in battle.

There were always nobles trying to curry favor with the king, and many had been envious of all that had been bestowed upon the Thorntons. Most forgot how hard Edward had fought to regain the Thornton titles and lands after John lost them over a woman so long ago.
 

One of the nobles’ wives, furious Edward rebuffed her amorous advances, had whispered into her husband’s ear and to who knew how many other lovers, telling what she had overheard he and Robert discussing one late eve. Edward found himself summoned to court to face his sire. At least they met privately instead of the spectacle of all the court watching as his king scolded and threatened.

In the end, Edward had to provide more men to fight for his king and pay a fine. He was also banished from court until summoned. ’Twas a minor rebuke, though now he would not rise to favor, as the witch had foreseen. John had known the healer for many years. She’d sworn he would rise to great favor, but it seemed not to be. Never again would his brothers be at risk of losing all; he vowed to do what needs be done to keep them safe.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Edward drew a bucket of water from the well and dumped it over his head. Tossing his hair back, he heard a soft feminine sound. When he turned, the miller’s daughter was standing there holding something in her hands, water droplets on her dress.

“My apologies, mistress. I did not see you there.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, keeping her gaze on his feet. The girl thrust her offering at him. “I made a pie for you from the cherries, my lord.”

He accepted it from the girl as he noted her cheeks turning a ghastly shade of rose. “Smells delicious. I shall enjoy it after supper.”

The girl’s father came forward. “My daughter wanted to come along when I brought the grain, my lord. See what a fine wife she will make one day.”

Wisely, Edward refrained from answering the man, instead scowling at his men, marking which ones were trying in vain to smother their guffaws.
 

“I will hide this fine pie away from the men.” He inclined his head to them.

The man, sensing ’twas time to depart, took his daughter by the arm and led her away. The girl never once looked anywhere but down.

“She will make a good wife. Never gainsay her husband. Give him many sons and mend his hose.” Brom chuckled as he leaned on his sword.

“Then you take her as a wife.”
 

His captain blanched. “Nay. Then who would see you did not lose your head in battle?”

“Harrumph. I want a girl who will vex me until I am old and gray and can no longer hear her shouting.”

Brom snorted. “Give me a biddable female. The ones that vex you are likely to get you killed.”

Edward slapped him on the back. “The very vexing is what makes them so bewitching.”

“You are rather feeble to take on a vexing lass. Almost two score.”

Edward drew back. “Feeble? I will not be two score for three more years. If anyone is an old meddlesome woman, ’tis you.”

Vile slurs were hurled back and forth, making Edward grin. Who knew his captain had such a broad knowledge of insults?
 

“Come. I require sustenance.” He re-sheathed his sword and carried his pie into the hall.