First Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 3) (4 page)

As the mill on the estate came into view, Edward heard a scream.

“Brom. You and two of the men with me; send the rest home.”

A woman came running toward them, and he galloped to her. She was wringing her hands and weeping, so he could not understand her words.

“Mistress, cease your weeping. Tell me what is amiss.”

She took a few breaths and blew her nose on her sleeve. “My boy. He was on the wheel when he slipped and fell in. He cannot swim and there is no sign of him. I fear he is drowned.”

His skin clammy, he was finding it difficult to draw breath. Everything seemed brighter and louder as he slid off his horse.

Brom put a hand on his arm. A look passed between them. “’Tis hot this day. Shall I go in after the lad, my lord?”

Relieved, Edward nodded. “As you will.”

His captain quickly stripped off his clothes and dove in as Edward stood on the bank wringing his hands like the woman next to him. At least he wasn’t weeping.

Brom broke the surface, took a breath, and dove under once more. Edward touched the woman’s arm. “Calm yourself, madam. We will find your boy.”

Two heads appeared. Brom held the lad in his arms as he swam to the bank, and tossed the child to Edward. The child was pale and unmoving. No, it could not be. He rolled the boy to his side, roughly pounding him on the back until the lad retched up water. He opened his eyes, gasping and coughing up more water until he was exhausted from his efforts.

The woman fell to her knees. “Thanks be to you both. You saved my son. May the Lord bless you and keep you.”

The miller ran to the woman, dusting his hands off on his pants. “What’s happened?” He saw the boy and fell to his knees, holding him close. “What have I told you about sitting on the wheel when you cannot swim?”

“Forgive me, Da.”

Edward watched the man’s emotions as he pulled his only son to him, and something deep within shuddered and broke. He wanted sons of his own. Lads he would be proud of. Knights bearing his name through the centuries, Somerforth filled with laughter and family. All this time he had been waiting for a woman who did not exist. Not for him. ’Twas time to marry and forget this future-girl foolishness. He was a dolt.

A girl carrying a covered basket came over the hill, touching her hair.

“Is John dead?” She peered at him. “He cannot swim, yet he sits on the wheel.” She kicked at her brother. “Fool.”

“My daughter, my lord.”
 

The girl made a small curtsy as she blushed and looked at her feet. Edward could not have said what color her eyes were, nor if her face were pleasing, as she never looked up at him.

Mayhap Brom had it right: he needed a biddable girl to take for a wife. “Do you like cherries?”

“Do you, my lord?”

“Aye, very much. They are now growing plump and ripe in the castle gardens.”

“Then I do as well.” She blushed again, shuffling her feet in the grass.

Edward rifled in his saddlebags, coming out with a small pouch. “For you.”

The girl opened the pouch and pulled out a cherry as her sire beamed. “I thank you, my lord.”

The husband and wife thanked him until he stopped them, or he would never make it home this day. The boy had regained some of his color, and stared longingly at Edward’s sword.

“You are a good lad to try and fix the wheel, but mayhap you should learn to swim, aye?”

“Yes, my lord.” The boy grinned and scampered off, apparently unharmed after almost drowning.

Brom’s mouth twitched as they rode away from the mill. “Every marriageable lass in the land will be pounding on your door in the next sen’night.”

“Whatever.” Edward had come to greatly appreciate the future word.

“The coolers are stocked with bottled water. Does anyone need anything before I head out to pick up lunch?”

Jennifer held a hand up to shade her eyes, and made a mental note to buy a pair of sunglasses in the village. Somewhere during her trip, she’d lost them. Wasn’t that always the way? Buy an expensive pair and lose or break them in the first few months. But a cheap pair? Jennifer would have them for years. By now she should have learned her lesson.

In her defense, the expensive ones were so over the top, really black with jeweled flowers across the top. They made her feel like a movie star hiding out in some small town, and so, hoping her credit card would take the hit, she’d splurged. Whoever had found them, Jennifer hoped they loved them as much as she had.
 

Mark plopped down on one of the coolers with a grunt. “Everyone’s set; appreciate you asking. It’s nice to have someone around to take care of this stuff. If it was up to me, we’d all be thirsty and hungry.”

“I have the same focus when I paint. The world could come crashing down and I wouldn’t notice. Thanks again for pointing out the solar showers. Thought I’d end up washing in the stream all summer.”

Monica let out a goofy half hiccup, half laugh. “Maybe you should rent a room above the pub so you’ll be more comfortable. Sounds like this is a bit much for your delicate sensibilities.”

“And miss your charming smile every day? I wouldn’t think of it.”

The girl scowled and went back to carefully sifting soil from her roped-off section.
 

Mark’s eyes twinkled as he winked at Jennifer before tossing the keys. “You’ve gotten under her skin.”

“Don’t I wish it were that easy. Mean girls always come back swinging. I’d better be on the lookout for serious payback after embarrassing her.”

He burst out laughing. “Once she put a laxative in my hot chocolate because I said her laugh sounded like a sick donkey, so you’re probably smart to be on guard.”

Almost to the beat-up vehicle, Jennifer sniffed. It smelled like Mary was working on something with basil, so she took a slight detour through the grounds, stopping at an open-air tent.

“Do I smell basil?”

Mary dusted her hands off on a white apron. “You have a great sense of smell. Aren’t you full from breakfast?”

“Don’t get me wrong, breakfast was delicious. Never would have thought of eating beans with breakfast, but I can always eat.” At that moment, her stomach let out a growl.

“I’d be as big as a bus if I ate like you.”

“My mom’s the same way. We fidget a lot.”

“I’ll have to try it. Certainly works for you.” Mary handed her a roll. “This should tide you over. By the time you get back with lunch, this batch of bread will be done. I’ll be sure to save you a slice.”

The warm air from the ovens hit her teeth as Jennifer grinned. “Wonderful. Need anything from the village?”

“Nope, but thanks for asking.”

As she made her way to the parking area, Jennifer spoke to a few of the re-enactors. When she bent down to retie her hiking boots, a shadow fell across the ground in front of her.

“Take care of Morris. I found her neglected in a farmer’s barn.”

Charlie was wearing a bright blue t-shirt proclaiming
Shakespeare Lovers Remember You in Their Will.

“Great shirt.”

He looked her up and down. “Great shorts.” Then he grinned. “I’ve been collecting them for a few years. My now ex gave me the first one, and while she’s long gone, I like the shirts.”

The odd-looking vehicle sat apart on the grass. It was from the seventies, a Morris Minor, and looked like a car and a van had given birth to this odd baby. The burgundy interior matched the exterior. The car even had the expected wooden paneling on the outside.
 

“She’s interesting.”

“Hey, she might not be sexy like you, but she’s got plenty of storage space in the boot.”

Jennifer ignored his look at her butt. He was a harmless flirt and had no idea she wouldn’t go near a guy like he or Mark with a ten-foot pole. Not after her mother’s track record. Were her shorts too short? She looked down and decided the navy shorts were the same length as the rest of the girls’ shorts on site. There was a suspicious-looking spot on the white t-shirt—maybe beans from breakfast? Oh well, not like she was trying to impress a guy.

“I’ll take good care of Mrs. Morris.” She waved to Charlie and motored down the drive, chanting, “Stay left, stay left.” And hoping she wouldn’t run off into the ditch while he was watching.

Driving on the left made sense in an older feudal society. Most people, including knights, were right-handed, so they stayed to the left to keep their right arm close to any bad guys. Made sense, and explained why everyone in the good old USA drove on the right. What did the left-handed guys do?

She’d ask one of the students. They’d been a wealth of information so far. And she’d quickly found out they’d tell her all kinds of things while she had them sit for portraits. The sketches were done quickly, but the students liked them, many mailing them home.

Other than dodging a few sheep, she and Morris made it to the village unscathed. Once they crossed over the stone bridge, the church steeple came into view, stark against the bright blue sky. It was a perfect day. The jam she’d spread on her toast at breakfast had come from one of the shops, and so did the tea. She’d be sure to pick up a few items to mail home. Her mom would love the jam for her morning bagel, and with luck the package would arrive by the time she and number four returned home from their cruise.

If Shane and her mom didn’t last, Jennifer was going to stop calling the guys by name and start using numbers. “Hi, number five, welcome to the family. Keep your boxes—I doubt you’ll be here more than a year.”

After her dad, the next marriage had lasted three months, and the third actually lasted two years. Now she’d married Shane, and Jennifer had her doubts after watching Shane track every attractive woman in a five-mile radius. The sarcastic voice in her head chimed in.
At least she’s willing to put herself out there. Fall head over heels in love, even if it is short-lived. You’d rather float aimlessly through life thinking everything will work out tomorrow and believing you’re better off alone.

“Shut up.”

Deciding she wasn’t going to argue with herself, she parked the car and meandered through the quaint village, enjoying the shops. The garden behind a church beckoned, and a quick glance at the phone told her there was plenty of time before she needed to pick up lunch.

The cobblestone streets and old buildings made her wonder if anyone famous had ever lived or stayed in the village in the past. Maybe a chivalrous knight or prince?

“I wouldn’t mind a Benedict Cumberbatch sighting while I’m here this summer.” Jennifer came to the Rabbit and Hound. There were flowers growing in front, and a bell tinkled as she entered. As she stood there inhaling, a woman looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

“Can I help you, love?”

“It smells so good in here, I may move in.”

The woman’s eyes crinkled when she laughed. “You’re from across the pond, then. Whereabouts?”

“Maryland. Baltimore.” She tightened the ponytail the wind had tried in vain to undo while she was walking through the village. “I’m Jennifer.”

“Edith. The woman who owns the bookshop, Laura, has a son who works in Washington. Not too far from you.”

“Not at all. I take the train to DC all the time.”

They chatted while Edith helped her pick out an assortment of teas and jams to send home. “The re-enactor group is back, I see. They spend a few months here each year. Odd bunch, but nice enough. Have you found anything of interest up at Somerforth?”

“I’ve only been here a week, so I don’t know what they’ve found yet. One of the guys said he’d show me the finds tomorrow. Would your friend have any old books with pictures of what the castle might have looked like before it fell?”

“I’ve got something that might interest you. Back in a moment.”

While Edith rummaged in the back, Jennifer snapped a few pictures of the interior of the shop. While walking around she’d had the idea to paint a series with scenes from the village, along with the surrounding landscape and, of course, the ruins.

What must it have been like to live in a simpler time? Spending her days painting and embroidering would have been heavenly, though she’d miss the enormous amount of books and movies available at the touch of a fingertip. And modern conveniences. The voice spoke up.
Right. And what about women’s rights, hacking off someone’s head with a sword, the plague, no modern medical care, or chocolate or milkshakes?