Tess shivered in spite of herself. Even with all the things she knew about medieval times, actually being
in
medieval times and enjoying its particular mores was almost too strange even for her strong stomach. All the things she had learned in a purely academic way had now become reality. Henry III was sitting on the throne of England, men were going to war, nobles were bickering, buildings were being built with heavy taxes.
She was surrounded by men carrying swords they obviously knew how to use.
John stopped his frowning and turned to look at her. All right, it was one thing to see the guy traipsing around in fake period clothing; it was another thing to see him in native garb. There were knives stuck down the sides of his boots, a sword belted around his hips, and hose instead of trousers. He looked as if he’d never spent a day away from the current year, never driven a car, never shopped at the local Tesco for crisps and fizzy drinks.
He looked at home, truth be told.
He walked over to her, stopped, then clasped his hands behind his back. “Lady Tess,” he said with a very small smile.
She closed her eyes briefly, because it almost hurt her to look at him. “Lord John.”
“Turnabout, is that it?”
“You seem to have latched back on to your title easily enough,” she managed.
He leaned in close. “Are you kidding? It’s absolutely barking, but I thought I would frighten my family if they saw me in a state. I was hoping you’d let me fall apart in your arms somewhere quiet tonight.”
Heaven help her, that was the last thing she wanted him to do. She took a deep breath, then nodded, because it was easier than telling him that she was sure now that he would be better off in the past, and she intended to hitch a ride with his brother as soon as possible.
A throat cleared itself pointedly from behind him. Tess jumped a little when she realized Nicholas was standing there, his ears perked up. She sighed in relief. The cavalry had arrived.
John turned and looked at his brother. “If I could, I’d kill you and not regret it.”
Nicholas put his hand to his heart. “I’m wounded, John. Here I am, simply trying to save you from your sorry self and these are my thanks?” He looked at Tess. “Shall I thrash good manners back into him, Lady Tess? He’s been out of my reach for too long, I fear.”
Tess smiled at John’s brother, then listened as he and John discussed the points where John might be lacking in quite a few things. John finally told his brother to shut up, promised his willing self to be grilled about a variety of subjects later in Nicholas’s solar, then pulled her across the great hall with him toward the stairs. He paused at the entrance to the stairwell and looked at her.
“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said very quietly.
She swallowed, hard. “I don’t think you really need me.”
“And that, my dearest Tess, is where you are absolutely wrong.”
He might have a different opinion after she’d left him happily back in time with his family, but she wasn’t going to argue the point at present.
“Let’s go up on the roof,” he suggested, then took her hand and pulled her along after him before she could protest.
She walked with him up stairs and down passageways until they exited a guard tower. She was absolutely not a fan of heights, but she had to admit the view was spectacular. John didn’t seem to be bothered by their vantage point, but then again, he’d grown up with it. He looked thoughtfully over the landscape for several minutes, then glanced at her. He smiled, then his smile faded as he apparently realized she wasn’t doing the same.
“I thought you’d be enjoying the view,” he said.
I was—of you
was almost out of her mouth before she could stop it, but she bit back the words. The truth was, looking at him in his native land, as it were, was killing her. If he went back to the future, he would trade family for . . . what?
Her?
He cleared his throat. “You know, my brother will thrash me if I pull you into my arms and distract you properly here where all can see.”
She attempted a smile, but didn’t think she’d managed it very well. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About what I saw there this morning,” she lied. Among other things she wasn’t about to divulge.
He tilted his head over his shoulder toward the east. “What’s coming from that direction in a pair of hours is much more interesting, I guarantee it.”
She looked behind him. She had to squint to see the company, but see them she could. She looked at him in surprise. “Who is that?”
“Robin, I imagine, with his wife, Anne, and their children.” He looked at her steadily. “His second son is named Kendrick.”
She took a deep breath and attempted to put aside her thoughts. The truth was, she couldn’t do anything about returning home until John’s brother arrived, and that was assuming he would be willing to help her. At the moment, her options were to mope, which she never did, or enjoy every moment possible with a man she was crazy about.
She chose the latter, because it was the only choice she could make.
She took a deep breath, then lifted an eyebrow. “So I know something you don’t know. How convenient.”
He folded his arms over his chest and leaned a hip against the parapet wall. “And if I demanded that you tell me?”
“I would tell you to stuff it.”
He laughed, apparently in spite of himself. “You have very little respect for either my ego or my sword, my lady.”
“Oh, I have a great respect for both, you bully,” she said. “I’m just playing hardball.” She frowned. “How would you translate that into your version of French?”
“I’ll think about it and tell you after you’ve told me what I want to know.”
“You go first.”
He looked over his shoulder. Sir Ranulf was standing ten feet away, looking fierce. Tess didn’t bother wondering who might be lurking in the guard tower behind her. She didn’t suppose the walls were thin enough for that to make any difference. John sighed and moved to stand next to her. She wasn’t about to make too much room for him, which he obviously noticed.
“Afraid of heights?” he asked in surprise.
“Just talk fast,” she said, trying not to be too obvious about clutching the rock she was leaning against.
He turned to face her, then put his hand against the wall, keeping his arm between her and a fifty-foot tumble unto the courtyard floor. He smiled down at her. “Better?”
“Better,” she said, her mouth dry. “And just for the record, the only reason I’m still up here is because I’m trying to go native.”
He smiled. “And doing a smashing job. Now, whilst I have you at my mercy here, give me the details that I want.”
“No.”
He looked at her calculatingly. “Very well, we’ll trade tidbits. You go first.”
“The Kendrick I know in the future is your nephew.”
He pursed his lips. “Very well, Nick and I think the hound was put there apurpose. ’Tis one of his, but the master of the hounds swears it had run off a fortnight ago.”
“Meaning whoever killed it hadn’t crawled over the walls?”
“Aye, my lady tactician, it means exactly that. Your turn.”
“Kendrick has six children, including a set of triplets. I understand the boys are all just like him.”
“His poor wife,” John said, wide-eyed.
“I gave you two details,” she pointed out. “This better be a good one.”
He looked at her, suddenly serious. “I don’t want to tell you any more.”
“But you will,” she said, feeling his seriousness become hers.
He kept his left hand where it was but fussed with her cloak for a moment or two with his right. “I will, but only because I fear these are details you should have in order to appreciate the seriousness of what troubles me.” He paused, then sighed deeply. “A day or two before the medieval faire—I can’t remember now how long before—I went home to find my sword missing. The sword I’m wearing now.” He met her eyes. “My father gave it to me at my knighting.”
“But you don’t know who took it,” she guessed. “Or why.”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
“What else was missing?” she asked, afraid she already knew the answer.
“Nothing,” he said, “just the sword. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of it. After the medieval faire, I went home to find my Claymore propped up against a table that was all set up for tea.”
A shiver ran through her. “That is terrifying.”
“It was,” he agreed grimly. “At first I thought I was the one being stalked, but after that reenactment party at Sedgwick—and aye, I know I’m convoluting the dates—I found one of your tower doors propped open. I might have thought nothing of it, but after we returned from Payneswick, there was a note in the boot of the Range Rover, something I certainly hadn’t seen when we left, which meant the writer of it put it inside either as we stopped for breakfast or that terrible lunch neither of us could stomach.”
She felt suddenly quite a bit colder than she supposed she should have. “And what did it say?”
“Oh, some rot about who Rhys de Piaget was and what I had to do with the man,” John said dismissively.
She studied him. “And?”
He met her eyes. “The author, who wouldn’t recognize decent grammar or spelling if it broadsided him, assured me I wasn’t the only one he was keeping in his sights, as it were—Tess!”
She realized only because he had her by the shoulders that she had almost swayed right into the courtyard. She held on to his arms because he was suddenly the most solid thing she could find. “Me?” she squeaked. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
She took several deep, steadying breaths, then returned to clutching the rock behind her. “And I pushed you down my stairs.”
“Feisty, aren’t you?”
She pursed her lips at him. “You were getting in the way of potential academic triumph, but if it makes you feel any better, I’ve considered for several days just how thoroughly I would need to apologize for not having listened to you.” She looked into his pale gray eyes that were quite a bit more troubled than she’d ever seen them before. “Do you think this person followed us here?”
“I have no idea,” he said, but he didn’t sound very convinced.
Tess blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Now that, my lord, is a flat-out lie. The very least you can do is tell me what you think and what you’re planning.”
He shook his head. “My time, not yours.”
“But—”
“Nay. You can take notes from afar whilst I work this out, and
that
is nonnegotiable.”
“Generous of you,” she said sourly.
“I agree,” he said pleasantly. “And in the meantime, what I think might be most beneficial at the moment to your next academic work is seeing a bit of medieval wooing. Up close and personal.”
She had to take a deep breath, mostly because he was smiling that very small smile she loved so much, damn him anyway. Unfortunately, talking about the future, even in the context of things to fear in it, had reminded her of the relationship she’d been having with him in the present.
The same relationship she was certain she couldn’t have with him much longer.
“John,” she began slowly.
He caught her hand, then brought it to his lips and kissed it. “Aye?”
“You’re going to ruin my reputation.”
He apparently took that more seriously than she’d intended. He sighed and let her hand fall, though he kept hold of it. “You’re right, of course.”
“Well,” she said, before she thought better of it, “I didn’t mean to throw cold water on you entirely.”
He looked at her from serious gray eyes. “What are you doing then, Tess?”
“Nothing much up here where I’m approximately three steps from falling to my death.”
He laced his fingers with hers. “I won’t let you fall.”
He certainly hadn’t so far. She looked behind him at the little company she could see in the distance. They would arrive, then she would have a built-in distraction for John. He would see what he had been missing, make his decision to stay, then she would take those riding lessons he’d been good enough to give her and put them to good use getting back to Artane.
She looked at him to find him watching her closely. She attempted a smile.
“I don’t suppose it’s time for another riding lesson, is it?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “It could be, if you like.”
“It’s a good skill to have.”
“It is,” he agreed, “but I’m warning you, Tess, if you are thinking to filch one of Nick’s horses and go off to investigate on your own, you’ll find yourself in my brother’s dungeon approximately half an hour after I catch you.”
“Are you going to put me there?”