Lonely is the Knight (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 3) (7 page)

She meandered down the promenade and suddenly knelt down to tie her espadrille. In the reflection from the shop to her right, she could see him following. He was keeping back far enough so she wouldn’t notice, but he must not realize how out of place he looked. Who was he?

As she walked faster, Charlotte kept glancing around her. She didn’t see anyone else following her, just this guy. A car horn beeped, startling her.

“My brother is dead because of your sister.” He jerked her by the elbow. Charlotte opened her mouth to scream then shut it with a snap as something sharp poked her in the side. After her time with the guys up north, she knew the feel of a knife.

“Scream and I’ll gut you like a fish. My brother and I work for the same company. Told them I’d be happy to finish the job.”

“Wait. Your brother was the jerk who tried to kill my sister? Simon died a long time ago. Why can’t you people just let it go?”

He sneered at her. “It’s the principle, luv.”

Charlotte watched as a couple pulled up in a roadster. She tripped, jerking away from him. “I can’t walk as fast as you. Hold on.”

Without waiting for an answer, she leaned down and untied her shoes. She tied the long laces together and dangled them from her free hand. When she stood up, she turned around slowly, like she had all the time in the world. Completely unconcerned he could kill her.

“I love to go barefoot in the summer, don’t you?” She looked down at her bright blue toes. All the while keeping an eye on the couple. The man spoke Italian. The woman with him was gorgeous, with long black hair, bright red lips, and legs for miles. She wore enough gold jewelry to tempt a pirate. The man put his hand on the woman’s lower back, giving her bottom a little smack as they went inside a jewelry store.

Charlotte adored cars. Who in their right mind left an Aston Martin V12 Vantage S Roadster just sitting there, running? What kind of person did that?

Crazy pants, that’s who. The car was a beautiful machine, except for the color. It was banana yellow. She cringed, feeling sorry for the Aston Martin. Driving that car, people would see it coming from miles away. But then again, that was probably the point, wasn’t it?

Before she could overthink it, Charlotte stomped on her captor’s foot as hard as she could. As he yelped, she twisted away from him, pressing down hard on the fleshy part of skin between his thumb and first finger, hitting a nerve. He yelled out and dropped the knife.

She made a run for it. Charlotte hopped in the car, threw it into gear, and took off. Her heart beating a thousand times a minute, she looked to the left to see her would-be captor yelling and shaking a fist. Then he started to run.

There wasn’t much time. In the rearview mirror, she saw the Italian guy come running out of the store, shouting obscenities. You didn’t have to understand the language to get the gist of what he was screaming.

As she sped away, she called out, “Sorry!”

Though in her defense, who would leave a gorgeous, low-slung roadster just sitting there running, with the door open, beckoning her? It was if she was meant to borrow the machine.

“Think of it as a hard lesson learned, buddy,” she yelled as the car surged forward, her long blonde hair streaming out behind her.

June 1330—Ravenskirk Castle, England
 

Henry couldn’t stop staring at the necklace. Why did she say he must hurry home to Ravenskirk? As he walked through the forest, he looked over his shoulder. The woman was nowhere to be seen. Henry let out a breath. The old woman was more than she seemed. As if the bird heard his thoughts, a raven cawed from the trees. Henry crossed himself and laughed at what he had done. Did he really think the woman had turned into a bird and flown away?

One of Henry’s knights called out, “We had begun to wonder what happened to you, my lord.”

Another leaned forward in the saddle. “You met with the witch of the wood.” He crossed himself. “’Tis rumored she is a powerful which. Did she try to steal you away, our lovely lord?”

Henry wanted to laugh but couldn’t. He felt uneasy, as if the trees were watching him. The woman had some great power about her, and he would not risk angering her spirit.

“I’m much prettier than the lot of you.”

The men chuckled as they made their way home. The day was warm and the men in good spirits as they rode. As they crossed through a small village on the outskirts of his lands, an old, hunched-over woman stood in the road, blocking their way.

“Hold.”

“My lord, men came. They stole our livestock.” She stood there, wringing her hands.

Henry dismounted. He went to the woman, taking her arm, and gestured to one of his men. “Bring ale.”

He led her over to a low stone wall and saw her seated.

“What did these men look like?”

The woman spat. “They wore the colors of Lord Hallsey. Said he was to be our lord now. Is this true, Lord Ravenskirk?”

He cursed viciously. “The whoreson is growing bolder. How dare he send men onto my lands to steal.

“Do not fear, madam. I am your lord. And I will see your livestock returned.” He pointed to four of the men. “My knights will guard the village until I have taken care of the threat.”

The woman knelt at his feet. “I am most grateful.”

Henry pulled her up by the arms. “You are under my protection.”

He spoke to the men: “Be aware of your surroundings. If I know Hallsey, he will strike again. Be ready. And send word if anything happens.”

Henry tossed one of the knights a bag of coins. “Purchase new livestock and whatever else was taken.”

The men nodded as Henry mounted and urged his horse to gallop. He muttered, “I have beaten him in every tourney, and how was I to know ’twas his wife? All women look alike in the dark.”

He must’ve spoken louder than he thought, for his men chuckled and continued making ribald jests the entire way home.

Charlotte lifted one hand off the wheel. Nope, no more shaking. The adrenaline was finally wearing off. She shifted, easing the seat back as far as it would go. The bulk of the backpack made her lean forward. In her haste to flee, she’d left it on, and so far there was nowhere to stop and take it off. The messenger bag dug into her hip as the seatbelt mashed into her side.

A huge sigh of relief coursed through Charlotte. Even with all the commotion, she hadn’t lost the two precious bags. But both pairs of boots and the rest of her stuff were still sitting in the hotel. In her bags she had the daggers and her medieval clothing, along with the journal and other odds and ends. Her bracelet sparkled in the sunlight. A glance in the rearview told her she’d gotten away. Charlotte kept close to the coast. At some point, she’d have to find a way to return the car. Apologize for what she’d done. Hope the guy would understand and not press charges.

Twenty-two years and she’d never stolen a thing. Not even a pack of gum when she was a kid. Charlotte snorted. The Aston Martin was significantly larger than a pack of gum.

But my oh my, could this baby fly. The leather seats enveloped her, and the sound of the engine and the salty air made her want to drive forever. Forget all about some crazy guy wanting to kill her all because of another dead guy.

It was like some video game gone rogue. Charlotte flicked through the stations until she found one playing eighties music. It seemed the DJ was on the same wavelength, as one perfect driving song after another came on. Singing along, Charlotte pressed down on the gas.

Maybe thirty minutes had passed, and the instant she started to relax, a glance in the rearview showed a car coming up fast. She stepped on the gas, laughing as the car surged forward. For a moment she wondered how fast the car could go. Too bad she was running from a killer instead of taking a road trip.

She had to slow down as she took the next curve. Apparently the guy behind her had no such qualms, for he bumped her. The impact jarred her from her teeth to her toes as she fought to keep control of the car.
 

Thank you, universe, for keeping other cars off the road.
Where was everybody? It was a beautiful day and the promenade had been packed. Okay, maybe not a totally clear road. A truck passed her, preventing the man chasing her from hitting her again. She made the mistake of looking over the edge. There was no shoulder, and no guardrail, just a very steep and scary drop-off. Charlotte inched the car over toward the centerline.
 

As he crept closer to bump her again, Charlotte jammed on the brakes. She watched in slow motion as his car seemed to bounce off the Aston Martin. Saw him frantically trying to gain control as the car started to spin. Helpless, she watched as the car spun off the edge, seeming to hover in the air before it vanished. If someone had asked her, Charlotte couldn’t tell them if it was the fireball she saw or the explosion she heard first.

A piece of debris from the car flew up and hit her on the shoulder. “Ouch, damn it.”

Charlotte touched her shoulder. Her fingers came away red. Her hand shook on the wheel, blonde hair whipping in the wind, blowing across her face.

She couldn’t stop. The authorities would arrest her. Not only to question her about what happened, but for stealing the car. If she failed to go back in time, she’d have a big ole mess to clean up.

As her breathing slowly returned to normal, Charlotte pulled out her phone, tapping the maps app for directions. Once she got to Falconburg Castle, she’d anonymously call and tell them where they could find the car.

Boy oh boy, that guy was gonna be furious when he saw the damage. A piece of banana-yellow plastic flew across the road and skittered over the edge. Charlotte winced. She wouldn’t think about how much it would cost to fix the beautiful car.

There were ominous storm clouds gathering above her and still no place to pull over. “Please let there be a turnoff soon.” Thunder reverberated through the sky and lightning flashed as the first drops of rain started to fall.

One good thing about going fast? The faster you drove, the less wet you got. Charlotte hit the gas coming out of the curve. It was pouring now and the thunder was getting louder. In the middle of the storm, Charlotte swore she heard the familiar haunting tune. She didn’t see the piper anywhere, but she knew it was him.

“My lady, beware!”

Lightning hit the car, surrounding it. Blinding white light filled the vehicle as her body went numb. She felt tingly all over, like her entire body had fallen asleep. Charlotte couldn’t feel the wheel; her fingers were numb. The electronics in the car went haywire. It was like driving in a bubble of energy. She hit something in the road and the car started to spin. There was a partial guardrail, and Charlotte prayed it would hold. Sparks flew up around her, mixing with the lightning, and a horrible screeching filled the air as the guardrail gave way.

Charlotte screamed as the car went over the edge. For a moment the car seemed to hover in the air. Then she smelled something burning, heard a crash, and everything went black.

Charlotte came to, choking on seawater. Her fingers desperately worked to free the seatbelt as the car sank deeper and deeper and she was pulled under.