Perhaps Marissa should be more demanding and . . . and . . .
flirtatious
with her husband? Her heart started to beat hard in her chest at the thought.
“My lady? Are you well?” asked Sir Royce.
“I am well,” she answered, her voice breathless.
Perhaps instead of trying so hard to teach Gillian lessons she had no desire to learn, Marissa should pay more attention to the girl and learn from her.
Learn to flirt with her own husband. Learn to seduce her own husband. The thought made Marissa feel faint. She would not dare to talk to her husband the way Gillian spoke to Kellen. Would she?
Could
she act like Gillian?
She remembered catching Gillian kissing Kellen in the solar like a common maid. And what was her reward for such base behavior? Only that Kellen looked upon her as if the moon and sun rose from her as he lavished gifts on her.
“Lady Marissa? Are you well?” asked Lady Yvonne.
Marissa waved a hand. “I am fine.” She smiled. She was more than fine. She stared at the exit where Kellen had dragged Gillian and considered how she would feel if her own husband did the same to her. Perhaps she would wear a look of triumph on her face, as well?
She sucked in a ragged breath, caught the look Vera and Yvonne shared, then forced herself to smile at everyone and to pick up her sewing as if nothing was wrong. As if nothing had changed.
But it had.
Lady Marissa Hardbrook was going to start paying attention and figure out how to seduce her husband. As a man, and therefore a simple creature, he did not stand a chance.
***
Gripping Gillian’s wrist, Kellen pulled her out of the great hall and around the corner from the kitchens. He needed privacy to discuss the fact that
he
was Gillian’s betrothed, and
she
needed reminding.
When he reached the relative privacy of the alcove, he whirled her about, only to catch her smiling at him. His brows pulled together and he frowned. “You flirt with another man in my presence and think it amusing?”
“Yes. Yes, I do. You’re easy to tweak and I got exactly the reaction I’d hoped for.”
He gaped for a moment, at a loss for words, then finally inhaled. “You made me feel this,” he hit his chest for emphasis, “apurpose?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head, trying to clear his wits. “So you do not have feelings for Sir Royce?”
Gillian laughed. “Hardly. He’s like a little boy next to you. I was only trying to make you jealous.” She reached up to pet his arm and, when his muscles bunched involuntarily, she practically purred. “Mmm. I have to say, it was pretty easy to do.”
He could not think clearly with her touching him, muddling his thoughts, but was so relieved she touched
him
, that she
did not
want Sir Royce, he could not help laughing. He intentionally tightened his arm, and his mood lightened as she tested his strength with her fingers, a pleased expression upon her face. “To be more precise,” he said, “Royce is like
a little girl
next to me.”
She laughed and slapped his arm. “Don’t be mean,” she said, but continued to giggle. Triumphant, he laughed again, as well, finally able to relax completely, the rage and confusion gone.
“I am surprised you would admit to a desire to make me jealous.”
Gillian tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t I? It worked, didn’t it?”
His brows drew together. “Aye. It worked all too well. I wonder that you would do this thing? To what purpose? Mayhap to capture my attention?” Strangely enough he could not help feeling flattered; no one had ever cared to try and make him jealous before.
She chuckled. “You like that, huh? Well, don’t get too excited. It turns out you’re a pushover and an easy target.”
“Well, then? Why would you do such a thing?”
“I’m glad you asked. I
am
,” she poked him in the chest, “going out to that cemetery. If you don’t take me, I’ll keep trying until I find a way there; even if I have to find someone else to help me.”
Kellen looked down at her stubborn expression and raised chin. He had a difficult time believing a lost bracelet meant so much. “What of the bracelet I gave to you? Do you not care for it?”
She bent her head and touched the metal, running her fingers over the stones. “I like this one too, and if I ever lose it, I’ll certainly go looking for it.”
He’d noted before she was an acquisitive little thing, carrying her pack about at the oddest moments. Mayhap she would get it into her head to acquire
him
and be as unbending and possessive? He would not mind if she did.
Kellen lifted his head, listened, and realized the hall was silent, everyone no doubt trying to hear their conversation. He exhaled a pent-up breath, grabbed Gillian’s wrist again, and dragged her away.
“Now where are you taking me?”
“Wait and see.” Accompanied by Gillian’s occasional giggle, he dragged her across the bailey, started up the stairs, and headed for the top of the wall. He easily held her upright when she tripped and, when she giggled again, he had a difficult time biting back his own smile. No doubt he was a fool for Gillian, but there was no need to bare the fact to the guards manning their posts.
When they reached the top, he gestured to his men and they melted into the darkness. Gillian moved forward to lean into the short, stone wall and lifted her face to the slight summer breeze. She glanced at the torchlight, then out over the ramparts and into the darkness. “It’s so romantic up here at night.”
“Think you?”
She looked over her shoulder and grinned at him. “You’re not planning to throw me off, are you?”
“’Tis tempting, to be sure.” Placing hands on the stones on either side of her, he trapped her within his arms, bending his head to hers so he could press his cheek against her own. “It would be no more than you deserve for upsetting me so.”
“Mmm.” Gillian moved her face against his, and he couldn’t help a tremor of pleasure. He’d thought to take her to task again, either for her stubbornness or for succeeding in driving him mad, but when she leaned back into him his breath caught and, instead, he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her cheek.
“We are to be married soon,” his voice deepened at the thought. “I can hardly wait for our wedding night.”
Gillian shivered and he smiled, well pleased with her response.
After a few moments, Gillian stirred in his arms. “Kellen, about that picnic—”
“Nay. Mayhap later in the summer.”
“Fine. No picnic. Just take me out there for a short while and let me look around.”
“Nay.”
After a long pause, Gillian shrugged. “Maybe you’re worried you can’t protect me. That you aren’t strong enough, after all, to fight off any threats.”
Kellen tensed and thought to pull away, but she held fast to his arms wrapped around her waist and he settled. He was not an idiot. He could see she tried to manage him again. He could also see she would not give up the idea. She was relentless.
He hoped it bade well for their future. If she were to fall in love with him, would she be as unmoving in her feelings? He could only hope. He inhaled her intoxicating scent, like the sun after a storm, and gave in. “All right.”
Gillian squealed and turned in his arms. “Really?”
Kellen straightened, stepped back, crossed his arms, and sighed long and loud so she would know he was put upon. “I will take you. I will have the men search the trees, the rocks, any hiding places beforehand. You may look about the place to your heart’s content, but that is all. No picnic, and there is to be a price.”
“Tomorrow? You promise?”
“Aye.
For a price
.”
“What price?”
“A kiss.”
Gillian laughed and he tensed, which only seemed to make her giggle all the more. “That’s not a price. I’ve been wanting to kiss you again anyway. But I accept your terms.” She pushed at his stiff arms until he opened them, pressed against him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and tugged.
After a moment he allowed his head to drop and she pressed her mouth to his. He could not help the moan that escaped when her lips moved against his own in the lightest of kisses.
His arms encircled her, tightened and pulled her closer, higher, his mouth tasting hers, one hand rising to slip into her hair, to hold her close, as he gave himself up to the moment, to the feel of her lips against his own.
Minutes later, heart pounding in his chest, he broke away from the kiss and was glad to note he was not the only one breathing hard.
“More,” she whispered and, gratified, he bent his head and kissed her again, holding her to him and loving the way she clung. He finally ended the kiss with one last gentle brush of his lips across hers.
Trembling, she pressed her face into his chest as she tried to catch her breath and he laughed softly. “Gillian,” he whispered as he held her tight. “What am I to do with you?”
“Keep me forever?”
He chuckled, bent and kissed her soft neck, and was gratified when she shivered. “I will have to, will I not? For I have not the strength to let you go.”
“Then don’t. Don’t ever let me go. I feel safe and protected in your arms, weak against your strength.”
He could not help it. He leaned back and kissed her once more, one quick kiss to her soft lips, then taking a deep breath, forced himself to release her, to step back while he still could.
She clung and he could not help but feel pleased by her reluctance to let him go. She might be bossy, opinionated, and difficult; and she did not stay where she was told; but by the saints, she pleased him.
“Come.” He took her soft hand in his rough one and descended the stairs. He did not regret letting her goad him into going to the cemetery on the morrow. It was becoming over important to her.
He just needed to let her visit the place, get it over with, then allow her to focus all her obsessions onto him. A fine plan, if ever there was one.
“Kellen, I’m taking her.”
“Nay, Gillian, you are not. You already have your pack and there is no place for the child.”
Gillian raised her chin and shifted Amelia on her hip. “Then we can walk. I’ll carry her.”
Kellen threw his arms up in the air, turned away, then back again. Muttering under his breath, he took Amelia, set her on the ground, lifted Gillian onto his horse, handed Amelia up, then mounted.
He sat unmoving for a moment. “Must you take your pack?” he asked with exaggerated patience.
She risked a glance at his gorgeous face, at his lips, compressed in a tight line, and tried to shift so the pack on her back wasn’t against his chest. “Yes, I must,” she said in a small voice.
He sighed, giving up any pretense of patience. “I will yield. But only as I want this finished. I do not wish to give you an excuse to insist we go once more. I want your word that after this day you will not mention the blasted place again. Not once until I am an old man and ’tis time to place my weary, browbeaten bones into the ground. Only then may you remember the location.”
Gillian laughed at his vehemence. “You have my word.” When they finally moved forward, she couldn’t help glancing back, missing the place already. To the best of her ability, she’d said her goodbyes to Marissa and her ladies, to Sir Owen and Sir Tristan, to Beatrice, Cook and the others. She hoped they’d remember her fondly, and felt bad for the confusion they were sure to feel when the three of them didn’t return.
She tried to ignore the heavy weight of guilt squeezing her chest. She couldn’t imagine this place without Kellen. But Sir Owen and Sir Tristan would keep things running smoothly until something could be figured out. She loved Kellen and, selfish or not, was taking him with her.
Anyway, who was to say it had to be forever? She didn’t know how the whole time travel thing worked. They might be able to come back again. Right? After his ring was on her finger and Edith could no longer lay claim to him.
Kellen took them outside the gates and looked around. “My men have searched the area.”
“No!” She tightened her arms around Amelia. “I just want it to be the three of us.”
Another exhalation, then he spoke again. “My men are further afield, ’tis simply a safeguard. They have been told to keep their distance unless needed. We will be alone.”
“Oh. Okay.” She hesitated. “Thanks.”
They rode slowly through the village and Gillian tried to soak it all in. She waved at two young women who waved back energetically, watched a group of children tease a kitten with pieces of long grass, and noticed the respectful way the men greeted Kellen as he rode past. She was well aware this could be the last time they saw this place and these people who depended so much on him.
Guilt pinched her conscience. She wished she could let him know this might be his last chance to say goodbye to everyone but, of course, she couldn’t.
For some reason, it seemed to take forever, but they finally arrived at the cemetery and Gillian’s heart pounded with fear and excitement. She wondered what Kellen would think of the future and couldn’t wait to show him everything, couldn’t wait to see his amazement.
After he helped them off the horse and they stood on solid ground, Gillian held hands with Kellen and his daughter, took one last look at the castle and jerked her head toward it. “Look how beautiful it is.” She wanted him to remember it as it was, not the crumbling ruin he’d soon see in the future.
Kellen, not particularly interested in the view, searched the ground.
“Kellen, look at the castle.”
He finally glanced up, smiled, and his chest lifted with pride. “Aye. ’Tis impressive, is it not?”
“Yes. Very much so.” And so was he. Large and strong, with chiseled features, his dark hair lifting in the wind, a lord surveying all he owned, in his element. She hoped he wasn’t too angry with her for stealing all this from him; for taking him from his time, his people, from Edith. Surely she could make him understand?
She studied the two of them, Kellen back to kicking the dirt, and Amelia squatting down to pick tiny yellow flowers with chubby fingers. Why did Gillian feel she was about to kidnap them both?
She remembered how confused she’d been and knew they’d feel the same. But she’d be there to guide them through it. Maybe they could even come back again sometime. She did like it here. She just had no desire to find herself in the dungeon awaiting execution when her deception was discovered.
Anyway, the future had a lot to offer them. She was sure both Kellen and Amelia would thrive there. She’d love them so much they wouldn’t have regrets.
Tugging them both forward, the hair rising on the nape of her neck, she took a deep breath and walked onto the grounds.
Nothing happened.
She didn’t know what else to do, so she kept walking, moving forward, trying to feel something. Kellen tried to release her hand as he searched the ground, but she held tight.
He started kicking at tufts of dirt and grumbled again. “’Tis doubtful we will find the bracelet as the villagers went over every tuft of grass and clod of dirt. But for your sake I will search.”
Gillian could feel tremors start to run up her arms, causing her to shake a bit. She glanced back to see the castle still there. It wasn’t working. She tried to remember the day she’d arrived.
She’d shoved the ring on her finger and, the next thing she knew, the castle was before her. She reluctantly released Amelia and Kellen and tried to tug the ring off so she could put it back on, but it held fast. Regardless, she’d worn it that day and wore it now, so if the ring had anything to do with it, it should be okay.
She’d also been running. Grasping their hands once more, she dragged Kellen and Amelia to the far side of the cemetery. “Okay, I’m going to try and recreate where I went that first day.” She tried running with them but it was slow going with Amelia. The little girl laughed, thinking they were playing a game.
“What are you doing?” asked Kellen. She could see he thought her crazy but, thankfully, went along with it, his large strides easily keeping up with the slow pace.
When they finally exited the cemetery on the other side, nothing happened. The castle was still there, sturdy and strong, the village in front of it. When they finally stopped, Kellen was staring at her, his brows raised.
“What? I’m simply trying to remember what happened the day I arrived.”
“You were running?”
“Yes, I was being chased.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who chased you?”
She could see he was getting angry and tried to let go of his hand, but he held tight. “Just some young men.”
“No doubt they stole your bracelet after you dropped it. Describe the knaves and I assure you they will be caught and punished.”
Gillian barely heard him. The boys chasing her hadn’t come with her. Did that mean she might have to go alone? That she might not be able to take Kellen and Amelia with her?
“Gillian? You will answer my questions.”
She tugged her hand free. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now I need you to stand right here.” Reluctantly, she had them stand at the edge of the cemetery. “Stay here. I need to try something.”
Her heart pounded as she tried not to cry. She knelt and gave Amelia a kiss on her soft cheek and hugged her. “You are such a good girl.” A wisp of Amelia’s blonde hair lifted in the breeze and Gillian’s chest ached when the little girl smiled and offered her a tiny yellow flower. Gillian took it, sniffed the flower, and tucked it in her hair by her ear, making Amelia smile. “Thank you, sweetie.” She so badly wanted to be Amelia’s mother.
Gillian straightened and turned to Kellen. She took his big, warm hands in hers and looked up at him. “Kellen . . . ” She found she didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell him she loved him. That the thought of living without him made her heart ache in her chest and that she needed him.
But she knew it wouldn’t be fair to tell him and then leave, so instead she let go of his hands and wrapped her arms around his neck. At his look of surprise, she smiled, tugged him closer, and he willingly bent his head and kissed her, his arms closing around her.
She kissed him back, her lips clinging, relishing the feel of him, yet unable to help the tears springing to her eyes at the thought that this might be the last time she saw him, touched him, kissed him.
He broke off the kiss, lifted his hand, and gently wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb. “Gillian?”
“Stay here.” Wiping her eyes, she pulled out of his arms, turned and walked away, shaky, nervous, and so sad she felt her heart was breaking. She walked to the other end, tightened her pack, then started to run toward them, fast like the day the boys chased her.
Kellen’s brows were drawn together and Amelia grinned and jumped up and down as she held tight to her father’s hand. Gillian’s heart ached in her chest as ran, as she waited for them to disappear. She finally ran out of room and overshot the cemetery boundaries.
It hadn’t worked. She could feel the blood drain out of her face and breathing hard, feeling strangely lightheaded and relieved, she glanced wildly about.
The castle, the village, Kellen, Amelia, nothing had changed. Why hadn’t it worked? Suddenly dizzy, Gillian placed her hands on her knees and bent over, trying to catch her breath.
It could be anything. Was it because she was wearing medieval clothes? The time of year? The day? The month? The temperature? The season? The weather? The spot she’d exited? The boys who had been chasing her? She really couldn’t rule anything out. There were too many variables. Even if Kellen would allow it, she could do this all day long and still be unsuccessful. Whatever the case, she was stuck.
“Gillian?”
While her breathing evened out, she walked back toward Kellen, whose incredulous gaze never wavered from hers.
She threw herself at him and burst into tears, so glad to be with him still, yet so scared to be with him still.
He held her tight. “Lass, have you lost your wits, then?” He gently rubbed her back. “Never have I seen lost articles searched for in such an unlikely manner.”
She cried harder.
“I am trying my best to understand why the loss of some trinket matters so much to you. You must tell me that I might make it right. What is the matter?”
Gillian gripped his tunic and wanted to blurt out that she wasn’t Edith, that’s what was the matter!
He tried to pull away, but she clung. “Listen to me. I will make you a new bracelet. A better one. There is no need to upset thyself this way. I did this to please you. If you but describe its likeness I will have an exact copy made. Better yet, you could use your skill to sketch a likeness and I will send it to London to the best of artisans. ‘Twill be better than the original and surely of more value.”
He continued to rub her back. “Come, Gillian. Cease. I do not care for your tears.”
She pressed her cheek to his tunic, sucked in a shuddering breath, and made an effort to stop crying. She didn’t know what to do. She’s been so sure this would work that she hadn’t planned any further. So now what? Should she run away? Wait and see what Kellen did to imposters? Explain everything to him and hope he chose her? If he threw her out, what would she do to survive? She didn’t know. The tears started up again, and she sobbed.
Kellen growled, grabbed her by the waist, and set her on his horse. His face pulled into tight lines, he grabbed Amelia and handed her up, then mounted behind them. “I brought you here to make you content. To give you what you desired. Not to upset you.”
Maybe she should just tell him and get it over with. Let the chips fall where they may. What was she waiting for? Edith to witness the spectacle? She took a deep breath and looked forward, over the horse’s ears. “Kellen . . . I . . . I don’t belong here.”
“This is your home now.” His voice hardened.
“I . . . I . . . came from the future.”
“You came from the south. We are not so backward here as you would make us out to be.”
She shook her head. “No. No, you don’t understand. I’m from another time.”
“Gillian, I will not take you to task if you desire to do things differently here. As lady of the castle, ’tis your right to make changes. If your preference is the way of your father’s keep, I’ll not interfere.”
“I’m not Edith.”
Fear tightened her throat as she strangled the words out, making it hard to breathe, but she’d said it. She’d finally said it.
“I will always call you Gillian. ’Tis my preference, as well.”
Her shoulders slumped as she ran out of courage and his arms tightened, drawing her back against him. She had to face facts. She might never go home. She might live here forever. Or die here quite soon.
Fine tremors shook her stomach and, when Amelia started to cry, Gillian realized she was scaring the little girl. She hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay, sweetie.” She sniffed. “It’s going to be okay.”
“By the saints! Two crying females are more than I can bear!
I will fix this if you will only give me a task! I will take you directly to my treasury and let you have whatever you like; whatever catches your eye. I promise you I have treasures worth much more than your wretched bracelet, but you must be silent!”