“I can’t believe how many people showed up for this.” Gillian helped Beatrice unwrap a platter of cheese to set out by the bread as Amelia sat on the edge of the blanket playing with an ugly doll made of clay.
With dismay, Gillian looked at the knights, servants, children, craftsmen, laborers, cooks, squires, and others, laying out blankets and food or playing by the river, conversing, laughing and generally having a good time.
Tristan shrugged. “’Tis to be expected. Everyone wants to be invited to a field day.”
“It turned into a bigger event than I’d anticipated.”
Tristan nodded. “So it did. The more the merrier, eh?”
“I guess so.” Gillian looked over to where Kellen was standing on the bank of the river. She’d wanted the picnic to be more intimate, had wanted to get Kellen alone. He’d been too busy lately, and had stayed out late the last few nights. Something about preventing raids on cattle, protecting the village, and setting traps. Medieval man waging war. Gillian sighed. While it was an attractive look for him, it put the romance she’d hoped for on the back burner.
Sir Owen walked over and knelt to help himself to a couple of slices of cheese. “You look charming this day, Lady Corbett.”
“She does at that,” said Tristan.
Gillian smiled and glanced down at the new yellow gown Beatrice and a few of the other girls had sewn for her, minus the feathers Beatrice had tried to sew into the sleeves. It was easy to look good when you dressed like a princess. “Flatterers.”
Tristan laughed. “’Tis not flatter if we speak true.”
Gillian felt her cheeks warm. “Well, thank you.” She turned away to watch Kellen and the boys fish then glanced back to Tristan and Owen. “Can you believe I’ve been here for an entire week already?”
“And only four more until your wedding,” said Tristan.
At the reminder, Gillian’s heart sank. Four more weeks until the real fiancé showed.
That Cow Edith
as she’d taken to calling her in her thoughts. “It’s gone so fast.”
“Mayhap because you have enjoyed yourself,” said Tristan. “If you find your enjoyment waning or the time slowing, it could be a sign you tire of your betrothed. If that be the case, perhaps you should choose to marry me rather than Kellen?”
Owen laughed. “No chance there. Have you not seen the way she looks at him?”
Gillian’s cheeks heated all over again, but she smiled just the same. She
was
having fun. But it might be time to start thinking about getting back to her own time. Before Edith showed up and ruined everything.
Gillian looked at Kellen and acknowledged that she wasn’t quite ready to go home yet, but at least knowing how would be a good idea. She’d thought living the life of a fairytale princess might get old, what with the garderobes, and the lack of malls in the area, but no, she was still having the time of her life. Granted, still no kiss. Apparently, Kellen had been too busy trying to foil would-be rustlers to spare time for any more late night visits. But a girl could hope. One thing was for sure. She was getting that kiss before she left. Maybe even tonight. “I’ll see you guys later.”
They protested, but Gillian stood anyway and Amelia followed to walk over to where Kellen fished with Francis. The boys stuck worms onto hooks and looked to be relishing the task. Another boy stood nearby, and Gillian recognized him and swerved in his direction. “Valeric. Hi.”
The boy looked startled and almost dropped his pole. “My lady.”
“Caught anything yet?”
“No, my lady.”
She put a hand on his bony shoulder before moving on. “Well, good luck.” She moved on to see Peter and Ulrick plucking worms out of a bowl. “Yuck. Make sure you wash your hands before you eat anything. Worms have germs.”
After a quick glance the boys laughed and then ignored her.
Kellen, holding a fishing pole and jerking it rhythmically backward, sighed. “Gillian, you are babying again. ’Tis unacceptable and you will confuse their training if you continue to coddle them. I will thank you to stick to womanly matters.”
“Fine. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” She took Amelia by the hand. “Come on, Amelia. I’m going to tell you everything I know about men. It won’t take long, because there isn’t much to tell. Men are very simple creatures.”
Kellen scoffed. “I did not ask you to leave. I wish you to stay. Perhaps I will want to hear such tales myself.”
Gillian smiled at him. “No. You really don’t,” she teased as she glanced back and saw Kellen was watching her with appreciation in his gaze.
She glowed and didn’t leave. Just stood there like a goof smiling at him smiling at her. She finally turned away, embarrassed. Talk about wearing her heart on her sleeve. No wonder Sir Owen had been confident of Gillian’s affection toward Kellen.
She glanced around at the people starting to eat. There was a lot of laughter and joking and she soaked up the whole family atmosphere. Her house had been so quiet after her family died. The noise, the togetherness, the acceptance, was an absolute joy. This was what she’d been looking for when she’d gotten conned into a relationship with her ex-fiancé.
Tristan pointed to the distance. “Someone comes. Kellen, see you the colors?”
“I’m not blind.”
On the other side of the village heading down a hill was an entourage of some sort with at least twenty riders, some carrying flags. One man broke away from the group and rode forward and Kellen walked to the end of the path and waited to meet him.
As Gillian noticed women in the group, her heart started to pound and she stood rooted to the spot. When the man finally arrived, she slowly followed Kellen to where he chatted with the rider. The Corbett’s hadn’t come early, had they? Was Gillian about to be exposed?
Kellen turned. “’Tis my stepmother.”
Relief left Gillian feeling weak as she watched the group of riders move closer, veer to the picnic and, finally, come to a stop.
One of them, a beautiful lady with covered hair, jet black brows, white skin, and red lips stopped before Kellen. Snow White in person.
Kellen helped her dismount and the woman straightened, smoothed her dress, and folded her hands together. “Your father sends his greetings. He is pleased with the betrothal. He thinks you a fine son in need of a son of your own.”
She looked beyond him to Gillian and Kellen took a step back and beckoned her forward. “This is Lady Corbett.” He gestured to the lady. “My stepmother, Lady Hardbrook.”
Her lips barely smiled. “You must call me Marissa.”
Gillian was unsure whether she should curtsey or not. “Please, call me Gillian. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Marissa looked at the child. “And is this Amelia? You’ve grown so much, my dear.”
Amelia held up the doll but Marissa didn’t take it and simply looked around before turning to Gillian once more. “Where are your parents? Your ladies? How progress the wedding plans, servants, meals, weaving, and such?”
Gillian looked to Kellen then back at Marissa. “Uh. My parents aren’t here yet. It’s just me. I haven’t really started planning anything yet.”
Marissa’s firm mouth slackened in seeming shock. She looked back to the ladies still seated on horseback, then again at Gillian. “I do not understand. Why not?”
“Well, I’m still getting to know Kellen and all, so . . . ”
Marissa’s mouth was still open and it snapped shut at the same moment she turned to Kellen. “’Tis good you sent for me. I will take everything in hand, including your betrothed.”
That didn’t sound good. “What do you mean? I don’t want to be taken in hand. I’m enjoying my free time with Kellen.”
Marissa drew her head back and looked at Gillian like she was some sort of oddity. “Free time? There is not such for the lady of a castle. Proper cultivation of discipline and decorum seem to be in order, do they not?”
Gillian looked to Kellen, hoping for a rescue, but Kellen didn’t say a word. He simply clasped his hands behind his back and looked at the ground.
Marissa turned away. “I will go to the keep and organize my possessions in your room. I’ll be waiting.”
“Waiting?”
Marissa’s gaze swept over the gathering. “For this spectacle to end.”
Feeling helpless, Gillian watched Kellen help Marissa mount again and then the entire entourage left for the castle. Apparently Snow White hadn’t arrived, but the wicked witch instead. So much for Gillian’s vacation.
***
Kellen turned to look at Gillian, who gazed at him as if he had betrayed her. But all he could think on was the fact that when he’d sent for Marissa it had not occurred to him that she would sleep with Gillian.
He couldn’t help the disappointment he felt. Kellen couldn’t seem to get Gillian out of his thoughts. She was attractive, amusing, charming, and she seemed to like him. All good qualities, to his way of thinking.
He straightened his spine. Still, Kellen had to admit he was relieved his stepmother was there. He would be married to Gillian soon enough, and while the wedding was being planned, he would simply have to concentrate on
knightly
endeavors rather than
nightly
endeavors.
Gillian looked worried, which he did not care for, but did understand. She had not taken over her duties and established herself as lady of the castle. She seemed uninterested in cooking, servants, or anything else that would fall in her domain. This had concerned him. He had not forgotten her comment about her stay being but temporary. She still had not given him the ring.
He had told himself not to worry. She was simply getting to know her place here and taking her time. But he had to admit he was glad Marissa had arrived to force the issue. The sooner Gillian settled, the better, to his way of thinking.
Except now there would be no more going to see Gillian in the middle of the night.
Devil take it. So much for seducing her.
The bed curtains were drawn back. “’Tis time to wake,” urged Marissa. “You must bestir yourself, Lady Corbett.”
Gillian rolled over and moaned. She cracked an eye to look at the window. The wooden shutters were still in place, but the slits around the edges showed it was still dark. Maybe there was a sliver of light but that might just be her imagination. She rolled over again, pulled the blankets up around her chin, and snuggled into her pillow.
“Come, Lady Corbett. The morning is a fine one.” Marissa’s voice was more insistent this time. “You have had your time of rest.”
Gillian moaned. “Please. I just want to sleep in.” The night before hadn’t been a restful one, what with having to share her bed with Kellen’s stiff-sleeping step-mom. The woman had continually shoved Gillian back to her own side of the bed, waking her several times, and Marissa had snored softly when she slept on her back. Couldn’t she just leave Gillian alone for a while longer?
“The lady of the castle does not sleep in. She sets the example.” Now the voice was disapproving.
Gillian cracked an eye open. Kellen’s stepmom was completely dressed and ready for the day. “How? By having the bleariest eyes? That’ll show them.”
Marissa gestured to Beatrice, who hurried forward to lay a gown at the end of the bed. “The lady of the castle must hold herself to a higher measure.”
Gillian groaned, rolled onto her back and threw an arm over her eyes to block everything out. This wasn’t sounding good for her.
“Beatrice, dress your lady so she might instruct the household and plan her wedding. Things that should already have been done. Apparently your mistress is sorely in need of a few lessons.”
Gillian heard the edge to Marissa’s voice and Beatrice jumped to do her bidding. “My lady?”
Gillian sighed. “It’s not even light outside.” She tried to pull the covers over her head, but they were yanked away by a disapproving, tight-lipped Marissa. Gillian wasn’t too happy, herself. “I don’t need any lessons. I’m on vacation.”
Marissa turned and spoke to others and for the first time Gillian realized there were three other ladies in the room. Marissa walked them to the door. “I will meet you downstairs directly.”
She waited as they left, shut the door, and turned back to Gillian, her face calm. “When you embarrass yourself, you disrespect your husband. I expect you to stop whining and make the correct choice to work hard this day.”
Whining? The heat rising in Gillian’s face made her mad. She wasn’t a lazy whiner so she had nothing to be embarrassed about. The loony woman was dragging her out of bed before dawn. She was trying to force her to plan a wedding for a girl who probably didn’t deserve Kellen. Gillian wasn’t doing it and she wasn’t going to feel bad about it, either. “I already have plans for today. I’m busy.”
“Busy with what?” Suspicion was thick in Marissa’s voice.
Drooling over Kellen? Holding his hand? Getting a few kisses? Enjoying her time in medieval England? Finding a way home? “Well, I . . . I just have things to do, okay?”
Marissa straightened. “Yes, you do. I know you will want to live up to the expectations of your parents and make them proud of you. You will want to have Kellen happy to take you to wife. You will want to be an exemplary wife so as to blot the stain your sister’s actions left upon this family’s honor.”
Enough with the guilt! Gillian tried to stifle a groan but was unsuccessful.
Marissa ignored her. “I want to know exactly what has been done to prepare for the wedding in four weeks time.”
Gillian looked away. “There’s still plenty of time, right?”
There was a long silence before Marissa took a breath. “I am shocked by your lack of industry, but we will remedy that together. As to the running of the keep, you will need to take over every aspect as soon as possible to ensure the respect of your people. I will help with that also. Is there a reason your mother did not come to assist you during this period of adjustment?”
Gillian shrugged and resisted saying,
‘maybe she’s a lazy whiner like her daughter.’
“Illness?” She prompted.
“Sure.”
“Ah.” Marissa nodded. “Then it was wise of her to send you early.” She started to pace. “This morn we will begin with the kitchens, then instruct the servants, and perhaps afterward we will contend with the sewing and weaving. That should take up the morning and in the afternoon we will begin the wedding plans.”
Whoopee. It sounded dull and boring and Gillian had no intention of complying. No way was she planning Kellen’s wedding to another girl.
She glanced at Marissa, feeling uneasy about disappointing her, which immediately ticked Gillian off. She didn’t even know the woman! And she wanted to please her? Enough! She wasn’t going to let Marissa make her feel guilty. She didn’t have the time. She needed to find out how to get back home and, from the looks of things, she might need to leave sooner than she’d intended.
Marissa was studying her again. “I am also prepared to teach you all I know about gardening and herbs. ’Tis a skill that has proven a worthy one and is beneficial to all in my care. One your husband will be proud you possess. We will spend time each evening doing this. Also . . . ”
Marissa continued to organize every hour of Gillian’s day, week, and month as Gillian listened with growing horror.
“What about fun?”
Marissa turned dark eyes on her. “What of it?”
Gillian was starting to feel desperate. The woman obviously wouldn’t be swayed from her course and Gillian wondered how easy it would be to sneak away to spend time with Kellen. “I need to get to know my fiancé better, we need bonding time, and then I’ll start planning the wedding, okay?”
Marissa glanced away, seeming embarrassed. “You will have years in which to ah,
bond,
and get to know one another better.”
“But . . . ”
Marissa glowered. “Up!”
Gillian resentfully stood and Beatrice helped her into her dress and then Gillian put on her shoes.
Marissa sighed. “I do not understand your attitude. Sluggardly behavior in anyone is unacceptable. In the lady of the castle, ’tis reprehensible.”
Gillian glared at her shoelaces. Now she was a sluggard? What did that even mean? Stung, feeling desperate, Gillian finished tying her shoes and headed toward the door. “Excuse me, but I need to use the facilities.”
She hurried down the hall, made quick use of the privy, and decided on a plan of action. She’d simply sneak away. She’d find Kellen and explain to him that his stepmother was a slave driver and let him take care of the situation. He could deal with the woman. Didn’t he say he’d slay her dragons? Did his stepmother count?
Decision made, she went out into the hall to find Marissa waiting outside the door. Gillian’s sense of desperation increased. She could outrun the woman. She was sure she could. Her athletic shoes would be far superior to the slippers Marissa wore and she doubted Marissa would suffer the indignity of running after her, anyway. But she might send the servants.
Gillian was still on vacation. She still needed to find a way back home. She didn’t need training to run a castle and she certainly didn’t need to be planning Kellen’s wedding to someone else.
Besides, Gillian would either (a) be there for a very short time or (b) be dead, because when the saintly, already-knows-how-to-run-a-castle Edith showed up, Gillian would be hung as a spy. So she really needed to spend her time (a) finding a way back home and (b) kissing Kellen while she had the chance.
The last part made her smile. She might want to know how to get back to her own time eventually, but Gillian wasn’t quite ready to leave Kellen yet. Gardening and planning weddings? Menus and directing servants? No, thanks. Anyway,
That Cow Edith
would have her wedding already planned when she got there and all Marissa’s work would be wasted.
Marissa snapped her fingers at a servant and started down the stairs, motioning for Gillian to follow. Gillian sighed. It wouldn’t kill her to keep the woman happy for the next few hours. Probably. In the meantime, she’d have to think of better ways to avoid training with Marissa in the future.
She yawned.
Once she was actually awake, she was sure to think of something.
***
Standing outside the stables, Kellen caught two of his foster boys by the backs of their tunics as they tried to run by him.
Tristan caught the third.
“Where do you think you are going?” asked Kellen.
They desperately tried to get away, squirming and fighting as they looked back toward the keep. “Let us go!” yelled Peter. “Lady Marissa will see us!”
Tristan looked to the open doorway of the keep, then back at the boys. “Why is that troublesome?”
Ulrick grimaced “She’s trying to turn us into . . . into . . . into . . . ”
Francis opened his eyes wide and finished the words Ulrick couldn’t spit out. “. . . into
gentlemen!”
All three faces flushed with outrage.
Kellen pressed his lips together to keep them in a straight line.
Owen rubbed his nose.
Tristan laughed aloud. “The indignity.”
They released them and the boys quickly ran off.
Kellen glanced up at the keep. “That reminds me.” He cleared his throat. “I need to check on something. I had best run up to the hall for a moment.”
Tristan and Owen exchanged a knowing glance, and Kellen stared them down. Tristan leaned back against the stable wall and crossed one leg over the other. “Sir Owen, why do you suppose he needs to go up there?”
Owen’s eyes widened. “I don’t know, Sir Tristan. Mayhap to get a bite to eat?”
Tristan rubbed his chin. “I do not understand. Did we not eat our noonday meal of bread and cheese while moving the cattle? Did he not get his share? He cannot possibly be hungry. For what other reason would he go inside on such a fine day?”
Kellen glared at them both as he moved away but refrained from commenting on the fact that they were idiots.
“Don’t come back a gentleman!” Sir Owen yelled after him.
Their laughter followed as he walked away, but he ignored them. He had missed seeing Gillian at both the morning and noon meals. Indeed he had not seen her this day, and she was all he could think of. He wanted to spend time with her and cared not who knew it.
Kellen went inside to find Gillian surrounded by Marissa and her ladies, her head downbent, applying herself to a task. Seeing her thus reminded him of his first wife, Catherine, and the cold reception he’d received from her and her circle of ladies whenever he’d ventured near.
His chest tightened and he thought to leave again, but Marissa and her ladies looked up at him, trapping him with their gazes. His tunic seemed to tighten around his chest, cutting off his air supply as he bowed and backed away. “My pardon, ladies.”
Gillian’s head shot up.
“Kellen!”
She stood and ran to him, a panicked expression on her face. At the last moment, Kellen opened his arms and caught her as she threw herself at him, clinging, her cheek pressed to his shirt.
His arms tightened about her as his chest seemed to burn from the inside. He could not help the smile that spread across his face, could not have imagined this reception. “Gillian?”
She looked over her shoulder before turning back to look earnestly into his eyes. “Please, save me!” she whispered.
He glanced between the ladies and Gillian. “What is amiss?”
“Kellen,” Marissa’s voice cut across the room. “We are otherwise occupied and you are disrupting us and need to be about your business.”
“Certainly.” Kellen, feeling chastised, tried to disengage himself, but Gillian refused to release her hold on him. He bent his head to smile against her hair. “Gillian?”
“I want to go with you,” she whispered again.
Kellen looked to Marissa and the others, all sternly watching them. “I have been gone all morning and am only now off to train in the lists. And it looks as if you are busy, also.”
“Couldn’t I just watch you?”
He’d like nothing better.
“Lady Corbett?” Marissa called. “We are waiting.”
Her gaze beseeched him.
Marissa sighed heavily, put aside her sewing, stood and crossed to join them.
Gillian’s eyes closed and her shoulders slumped. Kellen wanted to help. “Gillian?”
She finally opened her eyes and her expression turned mutinous as she released her grip and turned to face Marissa, clutching his arms to keep them tightly about her. “As much as I’d like to stay and help, as an engaged couple, we need to spend time together.”
Kellen’s arms clenched convulsively around her.
“I disagree,” said Marissa. “There is too much to do. Please move away from him. He is filthy and smells of horse and you are dirtying your gown by brushing against him. ’Tis unseemly besides. You need to come away, and you most certainly need to practice decorum.”