Authors: Cynthia Luhrs
“Thank you, Mom and Dad.” She clasped her hands together, thinking of her parents. They’d insisted her grandmother send her to the class. So she could look out for herself. Elizabeth would be forever grateful. Those classes had likely saved her since she’d landed in the past. Decision made, Elizabeth prowled the room, looking for any potential weapons she might have missed. Tomorrow she was escaping. And she was stealing the serving girls, if they’d come.
The next day after the midday meal, Lord Radford came to her chamber. But not alone. He’d learned his lesson and now showed up with several guards. He was apologetic. Blamed it on the drink. And since she needed to be out of the locked chamber to escape, she widened her eyes. Looked at the floor and then up at him.
“My behavior was most unladylike. Please forgive me, my lord. Might we dine together tonight? The two of us, alone?” She fluttered her eyes at him. He took a step closer, licking his thin lips.
“I will have a feast prepared.” He ran a hand down her arm before leaving the room. Once the lock turned, she made a gagging noise. No wonder he wasn’t married. He probably drowned any prospective brides in slobber. Elizabeth forced herself to take a nap, knowing she might be running through the woods all night if her plan worked. There was a muddy path leading from the castle toward the woods, and she hoped with an almost full moon tonight, there would be enough light for her to see where she was going.
“Please don’t let it snow.”
The sound of the door opening made her hop out of bed.
“I’m to dress you for supper.” It was only the girl with the black eye.
“Thank you. How’s the eye today?”
The girl touched her fingers to her cheekbone. “It no longer hurts, lady. I should not have said anything.”
Elizabeth touched the girl’s face. When she met her gaze, Elizabeth said, “Somehow I will find a way to help you. We could escape.”
“You mustn’t. He has a terrible temper.”
She patted the girl’s arm. “Let me worry about that.”
The girl wiped a tear away. “We cannot go with you, lady, but if you get free, we will not tell.”
They were too scared. So as much as Elizabeth wanted to take the serving girls with her, she knew she could not. Once she was free, she’d find some way to help them.
When the girl left, Elizabeth spoke to one of the guards. The men escorted her down the stairs to Radford’s chamber.
“My lord will be but a moment. Do not touch anything.” The guard sneered at her. She was left alone in the overdone room. Elizabeth prowled around the room, looking for anything that might be used as a weapon. But there wasn’t much to work with. A bed, a chest at the foot of the bed, a table, and two chairs. The pitcher on the small table by the bed caught her eye. That would do nicely.
In the corner of the room, was a large rectangle covered with a rough-looking brown cloth. It hadn’t been there before. Moving closer, she heard what sounded like a soft sob. That was no animal. Elizabeth knelt down in front of the cage and lifted the cloth. Big brown eyes blinked back at her. She yanked the cloth off and covered her mouth.
“Oh my goodness. What are you doing in there?”
The cage held a small boy who couldn’t have been more than six or seven. He wiped his eyes and looked at her. “Are you going to eat me, lady?”
Elizabeth couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. “Eat you? Don’t be silly. I’m not a wicked witch with a house made of candy.”
The boy blinked at her. “A house made of candy? I’ve never heard such a thing. You’re a faerie.” He pointed to her hair. “Don’t take me under the faerie hill. I don’t want to spend the rest of my days under the ground.”
She laughed again. Laughed for the first time in days, so hard her stomach ached. “I am not a witch and I am not a faerie. Now tell me, what is your name and why are you in a cage?”
The boy sat hunched over, unable to sit up straight. “My name is Gavin, my lady.”
“I am Elizabeth. Now tell me why you are here and I will do what I can to help you.”
The boy was wearing some kind of long tunic and loose-fitting pants made out of coarse tan cloth. His shoes looked worn, but she didn’t see any holes in them. He needed a haircut and had dirt on his face. He looked like a little street urchin who’d stepped out of the pages of a book.
“I’m from London. My mam died of the fever. Men came and took our things, turned me out in the streets, so I lived behind the abattoir. When the man found me, he threw me into the street. But I wasn’t sad; it smelled terrible back there and I stank of death.”
“I’m sorry about your mom. How did you meet Lord Radford?”
The boy wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I was living on the streets, making my living as a pickpocket. I took my lord’s pouch and would’ve gotten away, but I tripped over a pile of dung.”
She grinned at him. “It doesn’t sound like you’re a very good pickpocket.”
He scowled at her. “Nay, lady. I am the best pickpocket in all of London. The only reason I did not escape was because I fell into the shit. It was a pile this tall.” He stretched his hands from the floor to the top of the cage.
She laughed again, clapping a hand over her mouth and biting down on her cheek to hold the giggle in when she heard voices at the door. With a finger to her lips, she whispered, “Quiet. I will find a way to free you.”
The boy leaned close to the bars. “He keeps the key on a ring he wears round his waist.”
Elizabeth nodded as she straightened the cloth. Hurrying over to the fire, she stood there as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Servants bustled into the room, bearing food. Her stomach growled.
“Smells delicious.” She forced a smile to her face as he pulled her close, snuffling her hair. Catching a whiff of Radford, she barely refrained from gagging. The odor of rotten meat and body odor permeated the air.
“I see you have come to your senses. Would you care for a drink?”
“Yes, please. What is under the cloth?”
He didn’t even look over. “A curiosity I picked up on my travels to London. Nothing to concern yourself with.”
As they ate, Elizabeth kept glancing at the cage. She made sure to leave enough on her plate for the child.
The boy sneezed, and it was the opening she needed. “Is there a person in there? What terrible crime did they commit?”
Radford sneered. “’Tis nothing but a common thief. I have not yet decided what to do with him.”
“We should feed him. I’m sure he must be hungry.”
Lord Radford tried to look apologetic and failed miserably. “I have eaten all. There is none to share.”
She reached across the table, taking his clammy, sweaty hand in hers. “Would you mind terribly if I gave him the rest of my meal? I cannot eat it all, and your food is so wonderful. I would hate to waste what’s left.”
She leaned forward, giving him a good view of her cleavage. “Surely one as great as you would show a small kindness to such a wretched creature.”
He licked his lips, his eyes never moving from her neckline.
“If it pleases you, feed the child.”
She took the plate over, lifted the cloth, and set the dish down outside the bars.
“Thank you, my lord. My lady.” The boy reached through the bars, snatching pieces of bread, stuffing meat and vegetables into his mouth as fast as he could. She wondered when he’d last eaten. Once he finished, she took the plate, winked at him, pulled the cloth back over the bars, and placed the plate on the table. Froggy had poured her another glass of wine. There was a soft knock and two servants came to clear the remains of the meal.
“Leave the wine.” He waved a hand. “Do not disturb us. No matter what you hear.”
The guard leaned into the chamber. “Shall I stay, my lord?”
Lord Radford smiled the same grin Elizabeth imagined the wolf did before he gobbled up the grandmother. “Nay. Seek your bed. I will have no further need of you tonight. The lady will please me this eve.”
Disgusting. She sat back in the chair, asking him questions about himself. He talked and talked, boasting of his many estates and how wealthy he was before finally setting his cup down. He faked the worst yawn she’d ever seen as he stretched.
“I find I am most tired.”
She wanted to throw up, but smiled brightly. Let him lead her to the bed.
“Let me.” She unbuttoned his jacket. The garment was so tight it left red marks on his big white belly. He was so busy drooling over her chest that he wasn’t paying attention to her hands. She reached over, picked up the ceramic pitcher, and conked him on the head.
He crumpled to the floor. No one entered, so she knelt down, unhooking the ring of keys from the jeweled belt at his waist. After a moment’s hesitation, she took the pouch too. It was heavy, the coins inside clinking together. She’d need the money to pay for lodging on her journey. On the third try, the lock clicked, the door swung open, and the boy tumbled out of the nasty cage.
His eyes were huge. “Did you kill ’im?”
“No. But he’s going to have a terrible headache when he wakes. Now be quiet and follow me. We’re getting out of here.”
She went to the door and cracked it open. There was no one in the hall. “Stay behind me and be quiet.” In the hall, men slept close to the hearths. Keeping to the wall, she and Gavin made their way to the kitchens.
The cloth from her hair would serve as a makeshift bag. Bread, cheese, and what else? As she looked around, the boy popped out of an alcove. He had a jug tucked under each arm. A young girl slept curled up by the fire.
Elizabeth had also stolen both of Lord Radford’s cloaks for she and the boy. There was a door in the kitchen, but she hesitated.
The boy tugged at her dress. “It will lead us outside, lady. This is where they brought me in.”
The door opened without a squeak, the cold night air making her gasp. Creeping along the wall, they stayed in shadow. From what she could see, there were only two men on duty on top of the gate.
“Look, lady. The portcullis was not closed all the way this night.”
A shape against the wall moved, and she made out a man wrapped in his cloak. He hunched over a small fire set in some kind of metal basket. As they moved closer, she saw his head resting on his chest, heard the soft snores. She tiptoed past him. The boy grinned, dropped to the ground, and rolled under the gate, never dropping either jug and looking like an overgrown ghost wrapped up in the voluminous cloak.
Crossing her fingers she would fit, Elizabeth did the same. The cold metal of the pointed spikes dragged against the cloak as she scooted through the opening.
Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure the guards would hear. The boy moved and she grabbed his arm, pointed up. “Wait until they turn the other way, then we run for the trees.”
One man went left and the other right, making their rounds. Elizabeth tugged on Gavin’s arm and they ran. No shouts rang out after them. The gate remained as it was, so she assumed they had not been seen. Leaning over, hands on her knees, wheezing, Elizabeth gasped for breath.
Now all they had to do was figure out where to go. The only place she knew was Highworth, and she truly believed it held the key to her return to her own time. What was the saying? The devil you know is better than the one you don’t?
“Where to? London?”
Elizabeth hoped she was making the right choice. “No. We’re going to Highworth Castle. They will take us in.”
What she didn’t tell him was that she wasn’t sure what kind of reception they would receive. But at this point she didn’t care. She would force Robert to let them stay until she figured out where to go. And if he didn’t want to listen? There was a heavy pitcher in her chamber. She’d knock him over the head too. Tie him up and threaten him until he helped her, took in Gavin, and rescued the three serving girls from Radford.
Up ahead, three ruffians stood around a bundle on the ground as Robert’s instincts told him not to tarry. He urged the beast forward, the horses trampling the newly fallen snow. Robert jumped to the ground, tossing the reins to one of the men.
“Stay with the horses. You two, with me.”
A man dressed in rags, with a long, matted beard and several missing teeth, charged him. He wore a tattered belt and jerked at the sword, trying to free it from the scabbard.
“The cold,” Robert rasped. “Sometimes it makes the blade stick.” He unsheathed his blade, running the man through. The other two were dispatched quickly, their blood staining the snow, eyes open and unseeing. A fourth man dropped from a nearby tree and ran, but he was no match for Robert’s knight, who took aim and let the arrow fly. The ruffian went down, falling into the snow without a sound.
A brilliant lock of blue hair, bright against the snow, made Robert’s heart wrench inside his chest. He stumbled forward, falling to his knees, beseeching the fates. His stomach full of eels, he gritted his teeth. “Elizabeth. Can you hear me?”
Saints, let her be unharmed. He needed her at Highworth. Robert lifted her, saw her arms clutched protectively around another bundle. One that squirmed and moved. Her eyes flickered, then opened.