First Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 3) (23 page)

“We have a guest.”

What was the bastard doing in his hall?

Brom grimaced. “No one saw him arrive.” He rubbed his jaw.

The Scot grinned. “Aye. I caught yer fine captain unawares in the stables with a tasty kitchen wench.”

The insolent whoreson caught sight of Jennifer. “Apologies. I dinna realize you had such a bewitching lass hidden away.”

Brom stepped forward and Edward shook his head. A look passed between them, and Edward would wager the Scot would find himself facing Brom in the lists when none were around to gape at the spectacle.

“Who have we here?”

She turned that fetching shade of pink, and Edward wanted to stomp over to the fire and haul her away.
 

“Jennifer.”

“A lovely name for a lovely lass.” He kissed her hand, ignoring Edward. “Connor McTavish.”

He turned to Edward. “Where did ye find this one? How do you and your brothers keep finding such wonders?”

“Stay away from her, Connor. She is from far away and under my protection.”

“Aye, I can tell.” He eyed Jennifer’s legs, which had come uncovered again. Damnation, he hadn’t had time to find her proper clothing yet. She leaned away from him when he stomped over and reached for the cloak. Did she think he would strike her?

“Cover yourself. ’Tis scandalous the way you are dressed. Men in your time must come to blows every time a fetching wench prances by them.”

“I don’t have anything else to wear,” she said coolly.

And the bloody Scot had the impudence to laugh at him.

“You. What the bloody hell do you want of me now?”

Connor crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I wish to know Mistress Jennifer much better.”

Edward bellowed for Alistair. “Find her something to wear to supper.” His man turned to leave. “Nay. Take her with you, dolt.” He looked to Jennifer. “Go. Now.” And she made him feel like an arse when he saw the look of hurt on her face.
 

“Fine. I’ll go, but we haven’t finished our conversation,” she said.

“Alistair?”

“Aye, my lord?”

“Guard her with your life.”

The man nodded. “I vow it.”

Edward waited until she’d left with Alistair before turning back to Connor. The vexing Scot was looking at him with an expression Edward did not care for.

“You care for her.”

Running his hands through his hair, Edward refused to answer. Not until he told Jennifer he wished to woo her.

“Why are you here?”

“The Johnston woman you aided. Her husband saved me from the sword of an English bastard. Seems I now owe you a life. Again.” Connor pushed off from the wall. “I did not know her man died or that she was starving. I will see to her welfare.” He clapped Edward on the shoulder. “Be wary. The Johnston and the Armstrong want your head. They are plotting against you and Somerforth.”

“Let them come.” Then he grasped Connor, forearm to forearm. “You have my thanks for the warning.”

“Aye. ’Tis too dangerous to trust a messenger with such news. Too many spies about.” He lifted a tapestry on the wall, and Edward heard a click.

“Bloody hell.”

Connor grinned. “Our sires knew one another. ’Tis how I come and go. You needs learn all of the secrets of your hall.”

Grudgingly, Edward agreed.

“Edward?”

“Aye?”

“Jennifer is a rare woman. ’Tis not safe here for her. Might you send her back?”

He blew out a breath. “Mayhap I should, but not yet.”

Cold air blew in through the passage. Edward watched the Scot leave, and swore under his breath. The fates must be filled with mirth over such doings.

Jennifer woke to the rumble of male voices. It had been an incredibly long day. All she wanted was something to eat and then to sleep for about a week. Lethargy filled her. Was it jet lag? Or the right term might be time-travel lag? Was that food she smelled?

Yawning, she caught sight of Edward. He finished talking to his men and sent them out of the solar. The smile he turned on her, well, she felt it all the way to her toes. Earlier, he’d been jealous of Connor paying attention to her. If it got out how many drop-dead hunky men were in the past, there’d be mayhem. Every single woman in the world would want to travel through time to snag her own man. Jennifer sniffed. Not that she cared.
 

Sure, keep telling yourself that, cupcake,
said the voice in her head. Edward stalked over to her like a hungry lion eyeing a particularly tasty gazelle. She gulped.

“I did not wish to wake you.”

Her stomach gurgled and the corner of his mouth pulled up as if tugged by an invisible string. Oh boy. With those sexy, crinkly lines at the corner of his eyes when he smiled… She stopped. And when he grumbled they showed up too. Paired with the drool-worthy accent and deep, gravelly voice that rumbled through her every time he spoke, how was it he wasn’t married?

Could he be gay? He had to be mid-twenties to mid-thirties. He was titled, lived in a freaking castle, and was rich. He should have had a wife and a boatload of kids running around. Her heart sank. The guy wasn’t jealous Connor was flirting; he was jealous because he wanted Connor. Oh well, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about falling for him.

Liar. You already are. Talk about picking the unavailable ones.

“Shut up.”

“Pardon, demoiselle?” He frowned at her.

“Never mind.” She waved a hand about. “Did you mention food?”

He picked up a platter as she hopped up to help, carrying the jug of wine and goblets over to the small table.

“Where did Connor go?”

Edward’s hand hovered over the meat. "’Tis fine to mention his name to me or to Brom, but not to the others. He’s a Scot.”

“You must miss him.” She thought for a moment, understanding dawning. “Got it. The whole Second War of Scottish Independence.”

He gaped at her.

“Fudge. Forget what I said.”

“There is always fighting. The only change is the country. Soon ’twill be France.”

Jennifer chewed, enjoying the savory vegetables. “The Hundred Years’ War.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. What was wrong with her? It was like showing off for the teacher you had a crush on.

“Explain.”

“The Hundred Years’ War goes from 1337 to 1453, if I remember correctly. Really, I shouldn’t say anything. What if I tell you and somehow you change history?”

While he thought about what she’d said, Jennifer thought about what else was coming. The Black Plague. No way did she want to be stuck here when the plague burned through.

“Now that we’re alone, would you finally explain what you meant about ‘others’? I’ve been dying to know.”

Edward leaned back in the chair, long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle.

“Brom and Connor know of what I am about to speak, but no others. Give me your word you will not tell anyone.”

She crossed her heart. “Promise.”

Nodding, he looked into the flames. “I am the eldest of five brothers. Christian and I are unwed; the rest…they married lasses like you.”

“You want to marry?” She resisted the urge to smack her forehead. He told her there are other time travelers and she was stuck on the “is he or isn’t he” question?

“Aye. I hope to marry soon.” He blinked at her.
 

“So you’re not… I mean…” Finally she gave up on tactful and blurted out, “You’re not gay?”

“Aye. I can be. As eldest I must take care of my brothers, see them wed and cared for. I am not a fool, but I make merry.”

She brightened. “Oh. No. I thought maybe you liked men.” He looked confused, so she tried again, the mortification coursing through her, but it was too late to take it back.

“You know. To kiss. And to…you know…lust with.” Her cheeks burned.

Edward jumped up, striding across the room. “You thought I… With Connor?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Bloody hell. What kind of men are in your time? No wonder you are unwed and so old.”

She was so happy he wasn’t gay that it took a moment for the insult to sink in. “Old?” Jennifer screeched. “I’m not old. I’m only twenty-seven. Lots of women in my time wait until their thirties to get married.” She set the goblet down with enough force for the wine to slosh over the edge. “Marriage is different. Men marry and then leave. I’d rather be alone.” She sneered at him. “What are you, thirty? Forty? Talk about old.”

“I have thirty-seven years,” he said stiffly.

Seeing the hurt on his face, she calmed a bit. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I made an assumption. Can we forget everything I said and talk about your brothers?”

“Harrumph.” He paced a few more times before sitting back down, elbows on his knees. “Women of your time have odd ideas.”

“We do. But it can be confusing in my time.” She waved a hand. “Never mind. You were saying?”

“All of my brothers’ wives and James and William’s wives are from the future.” He whispered the last word.

“Really? How?”

Jennifer vibrated in her chair as Edward explained about each of the women who had traveled through time. So it was possible to go back, though none of them had done so. Each had made the decision to stay. At least, that was what they all thought. No one had actually gone back, so while Edward thought it was possible, none of them were sure.

Because of the fighting, he wasn’t sure when she might talk with them. But now she knew that his sword was the key to going back. It would be easy enough to nick her hand for the drops of blood. The next storm, she could go home.

“When we have another storm, can you help me go back?”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but changed his mind. “Aye. When we have a terrible storm, I will aid you.”