First Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 3) (16 page)

“Go practice in the field where you can’t hit anything but a tree or rock.”

The man fled the bailey. Edward couldn’t breathe until he held Jennifer in his arms, patting her to assure himself she was unscathed. “Are you unharmed?”

“Truly. I’m fine.”

He snorted, relief filling him. “Dolts.” She had been outside so much that her skin was turning golden. He wanted to be alone with her, away from meddling women. “Shall we ride? You can gather more blackberries.”

“I’d love to.” This beautiful woman was his. The blue dress she wore darkened her eyes. He looked closer and grinned. There was yellow paint on her wrist and neck. And was that a spot of green under her chin?

“What?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re staring at me like I have a frog on my head. What?”

“I like when you bellow at me.”

She was annoyed. “I do not bellow.”

“Aye, you do. ’Tis most pleasing.”

His lady glared at him. “You’re so weird.”

Anna, John’s wife, had taught him the word. He knew it meant odd, but in a teasing manner, so he chuckled.

“Alistair and Thomas will accompany us.”

He swept her up in front of him on the horse. Once they crossed the drawbridge, he urged the horse to a gallop, knowing she liked to go fast. He was pleased that she was learning to ride. Thomas had been teaching her, but she had not found her faith in the horse yet. In time she would learn.

A quarter of an hour later, Edward cast his gaze to the sky. “We should go back. Have you enough berries?”

His lady emerged from the brush, eating a handful of blackberries, her palms stained purple. Leaning in to kiss her, he tasted the fruit on her lips before she pushed him away.

“You’ll crush them after all the hard work to pick them.”

“You wound me. Choosing fruit over your lord?”

She tapped her lip with a purple finger. “Hmm, let me think.” She poured the rest of the berries into the basket at her feet. “Never. You are far sweeter.”

Before he could kiss her again, he heard shouts. They ran to the horses.
 

“We ride.”

“You’re not fighting them?”

“Nay, my bloodthirsty wench, there are too many. If I die this day, how can I wed you?”

She went still against him. “You want to wed me?”

“Aye. You are a bothersome wench, stomping and bellowing about, but I find I do not care for sweet words and biddable lasses. I am ruined for all others.”

“Funny. Very funny, Edward.” He heard the joy in her voice. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

’Twas enough for him. She would be Lady Somerforth, and next year, his brothers would come to see the fine son she would give him.

“Hamish. Where are ye?”

Maude waited behind the icehouse. It was set into the farthest wall of the castle. The steps went down into the earth, where it was cold all the time. Some said it went all the way to the sea. What they did not know was there was a passageway between the wall encircling the castle and the icehouse. That was where her love was hiding.

Every winter, ice and snow were taken into the icehouse and packed with straw to stay frozen until the next winter. She had to make trips every few days during the summer to chip off ice or fetch the food stored within. Maude told Hamish about the passageway. He would hide there, and when ’twas time he would bring the men in, one at a time to hide them in the passageway until they fought and took the castle from Lord Somerforth. She crossed herself.

The wall opened and Hamish came out, taking her in his arms. “Today we almost had the great Lord Somerforth. In a sen’night he will be dead and the Armstrong will reward me. Then I will wed ye, Maude.”
 

She looked into his face, touching the scar he had earned fighting her lord a score of years ago. A man she had come to know was wicked and evil. Hamish had told her so.

“Two of the men are with me. Soon there will be a great battle and I will bring the rest inside the walls. Then when Somerforth’s men are weak from fighting, we will strike and take the castle.”

Edward had spent the last few days raiding across the Johnston and Armstrong lands. On the last raid he’d lost two men. A day later he received a message two of his men had been captured and were being held on Johnston lands. Two Scots for two of his men. He took three of the garrison guards with him.

“You should not go.” Brom had scowled. “Take me with you.”

“Watch over Jennifer and Somerforth. I must be there for the exchange.”

"’Tis a trap.”

“I will not leave my men to suffer. Tell Jennifer after I am gone. The vexing wench worries overmuch.”

Why had he not heeded his captain’s words? Edward cursed. Brom had been right, and now Edward found himself locked in a ruined tower awaiting hanging. All because of a long-ago grudge.

In all his years he had not feared death, not until now. Until her. If Jennifer could go back, she would be safe in her own time, but if she could not, she would be alone. Nay, Brom would see her safely to his brothers. They would make a good match for her. And he would haunt the man and wait. Somehow finding her in the future. God would not take him so easily.

When the whoreson Johnston hanged his men, Edward swore to repay the Scot tenfold. The soldiers’ women and children would be cared for; he would see to it.

It had taken four men to bring Edward down. He groaned as they dragged him down the stairs. His head ached and he saw three of everything. The three bastards on his right had black eyes and broken noses to show for clouting him over the head with tree branches.

Before they left the ruined tower for the scaffold, one of the men pulled a hood over Edward’s head and clouted him again.

Edward woke to jeering. Why was he under the scaffolding, not standing above with a noose around his neck?

“Bloody hell.”

“Hush, ye wee bastard.” Crouched in the darkness was Connor. The Scot showed him the back of his hand and raised his middle finger.

’Twas all Edward could do to keep from laughing at the rude sign.

“This is the last time I save your womanly hide. When next we meet on the field of battle, I will end you. I may be an outlaw, but I am still a Scot and you are the bloody English.”

“Till then.” Edward respected the man. “I will give you a clean death and say a prayer for you.”

Connor snorted. “I should let you hang and wed your woman.” He put a finger to his mouth. “’Tis a jest. She is not for me. Future women are troublesome wenches. I would sooner wed a pig.”

Edward ignored the insult. “Why is Gilbert not here to hang me himself?”

“The Armstrong had a fire and is trying to save his store of grain.” Connor grinned. “He is the reason there is a price on my head. I have evened the score.”

The Scotsman cocked his head, listening. “The man hanging you has been paid well. He will not remove the hood.”

The crowd threw rotten vegetables and jeered. Done boasting, the Johnston told his people they were safe. No more children would be taken away and eaten by Edward. He rolled his eyes. Then the trapdoor opened and a man fell through, jerking. ’Twas a while before he went still. Edward felt ill. He could have been the one at the end of a rope.

Edward crossed himself. “Who was he?”

“A thief sentenced to death. I offered him gold for his family.” Connor grinned. “Aye, you can repay me and then some. I want two of your finest horses as well as gold.”

“Done.”

The crowd lost interest and went back to their day. The man would be left as a warning. But on the morrow they would find no body, only a grave. Connor had paid the executioner to burn the man. ’Twas the gravest insult to burn a body. No one would know the truth until they heard Edward lived. His legend would grow.

When night fell, they crept through the village as thunder rumbled. By the time they were deep in the forest on the way back to Somerforth, the rain came down and thunder sounded across the sky. Edward wondered if ’twas the same at Somerforth. Would the storm take Jennifer? Nay, he would not think on it. She would be there, waiting for him.

An hour or so before dawn, they were attacked. One of the Scots had seen the thief’s face as he burned and knew ’twas not Edward. During the fight, Connor took an arrow through his hand and went down on one knee.

Lightning flashed, and Connor sliced at the two men in front of him with his dagger as the sky filled with voices. ’Twas the most dreadful sound Edward had ever heard. The Scots, full of fear, turned to run.
 

“Nay, not this morn.” Filled with black rage, he buried his sword to the hilt in the first man’s chest. The other threw a dagger, narrowly missing him. With one swing of his blade, Edward almost cleaved the man in two.

Connor screamed, the sound turning Edward cold. Helpless, he watched, full of dread as the Scot faded. ’Twas not possible, yet Edward could see through Connor to the trees behind him.

Connor reached out, his mouth moving, but Edward could not hear the Scot over the voices all around them. Lightning struck Connor, and before Edward’s eyes, he vanished.

Trembling, Edward vowed never to let Jennifer go. How had she and the others endured such a thing?

“You can’t go when you know it’s a trap. You are Lord Somerforth and responsible for everyone. Without you we will be lost.”

Jennifer had been so upset when she heard what happened to Edward and Connor that she had done something she wasn’t proud of. For the first time in her life, she’d raised her fist to another person. After she calmed down she knew it was an effect of the adrenaline wearing off, but still, she was embarrassed.

It hadn’t even fazed the man, and she knew she hadn’t hurt him, though he pretended she was very fierce.

“Do you swear the sky was not full of voices?” Edward looked pale. “’Twas a terrible sound, unlike any I have ever heard.”

“It must be a little bit different for everyone.” She bit her lip. He paced back and forth. They were in his solar, and despite the fire in the hearth, she shivered, wanting to ask but afraid. Edward obviously had the same thought.

“You would brave such madness to make the journey again?”

“I would.”