Waterfall (8 page)

I was dreaming that I lived on a farm. It was not yet light, but the animals were stirring. A rooster heralded the morning for the third time, and my heart skipped a beat. It all came rushing back. I hoped to open my eyes to my own day-literally. Had it happened? Had it all been a terrible, crazy dream?

The rooster crowed again, and yet I couldn’t get the gumption to open my eyes. Fingers splayed, I ran my hands across the covers and groaned.

The rough woolen weave of my blankets from last night.

I threw back the blanket and sat up rubbing my face. Slowly, I allowed my eyes to blink open.

I was still there. Or then. I was still in the past. Lost in time. I shook my head, hands on my mouth, and looked up at the crucifix, then over to the window, where the sky was stained with the deep purple of dawn. If only it had been my mom who had been taken back in time. She would be delirious with joy. She spent half her days lost in a bygone era anyway-why not lose her entire self into this curious time vortex? Only she would have been whining about not landing in the time of the Etruscans….

Someone knocked at my door, and I jumped, my hands immediately running through my hair. Was it Marcello, here to wake me up for the search? I went to the door and opened it a crack. A maid arrived with a pitcher of water in a basin. “For your morning washing, m’lady,” she said, lifting them when she saw my hesitation.

So he isn’t as bent on leaving me behind as he pretended

I opened the door wider. She introduced herself-Giacintaand set down the basin, lifted the pitcher nestled inside, and poured the cool water for me to wash. Then she went to the hallway and retrieved two dresses, shaking them out and then laying them across the bed. They were gorgeous-elegant gowns, one with seed pearls embroidered into the bodice. “Lord Marcello asked me to bring these to you, as well as these underclothes,” she said. “They’re a tad outdated for a noblewoman. They once belonged to Lady Forelli. She, too, was uncommonly tall.”

Marcello’s mother. I paused, wondering if it was wise to ask, then, “If you please, what happened to Lady Forelli?”

Giacinta groaned and shook her head. “Ach, she died of the fevers three, no, four years ago now.” She made the sign of the cross as if warding off evil spirits in mentioning the dead. “Tragic, really. Lord Forelli has never been the same. Then he suffered his spell a year past….” She stopped, seeming to recognize she was sharing too much.

I let the subject go, then turned to getting ready for the day. Giacinta helped me into my dress and did her best to put up my hair. She stepped back and studied me, cocking her head and then widening her eyes. “Take care, m’lady. You are far more beautiful than Lady Rossi and already you draw Lord Marcello’s eye. His intended is a viper.”

Like I didn’t totally get that. But there was no explaining that I was soon outta here, so, like, no worries and all…. “Grazie,” I said instead. Mom always said that a simple thank you covered a lot of bases.

Another maid came in, carrying a ceramic plate with a round loaf and small wedge of cheese atop it. “From Cook,” Giacinta said. “If you truly intend to join the men today, you need to make haste and break your fast.”

It struck me then. Could Marcello be going through the motions, just looking for a way to leave me behind with an excuse? Hey, I tried….

I tore the small loaf in half and eagerly bit into it. “Grazie,” I mumbled again, mouth half-full of the delicious, yeasty bread. It felt odd having the girl wait on me. She was nearly my age. Lids age anyway. Lia. Maybe we’d find her today, and I wouldn’t be alone in this madness. I grabbed the other half of the bread, stuffed the wedge of cheese into it and strode out the door.

“M’lady, it isn’t safe, what you are doing,” cautioned Giacinta, behind me. But I ignored her. I wasn’t about to miss this. The chance to find my sister. Or even find my way out of this nightmare.

The men were filing out of the Great Hall, led by the senior Lord Forelli, whose frown said he clearly disapproved of my presence, even though he had given me permission to join them.

I caught sight of Lady Rossi then, trailing after Marcello, a ladyin-waiting at her side. Apparently she wanted her man to be thinking of her as he left the castle.

She paused when she saw me, then hurried over to me. “Surely you don’t truly intend to ride with the men. You shall slow them down.”

“And then, so I shall,” I said brusquely. It was too early in the morning to think about what the perfect response would be.

“It is not good for a lady’s reputation,” she said lowly, turning to face me and keeping her voice down. She touched my arm. “To travel alone, with a company of men. I beg of you to take care.”

I looked down at her at an angle and tried to don an expression that said I cared, at least a little bit. “Come with us, then, m’lady, if you care to guard my reputation.”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, and she actually took a partial step away from me, as if I were suddenly hot like a stove burner. “No,” the girl sniffed. “I think not. I enjoy a ride now and then. But anything that smells of danger-nay, I shall leave that to my intended.”

I smiled and couldn’t resist waggling my eyebrows. “Then, that is where you and I are different. I enjoy a bit of adventure. Good day, Lady Rossi.”

I strode away from her, barely able to control my grin. If only I had been in jeans, I would’ve seriously strutted away. I tried to do my best, considering I had the gown on and all. It was so much easier for guys. Then and now.

I moved across the courtyard, and Marcello caught sight of me, hesitated, then said, “Lady Betarrini, I ask you again… please, remain here today.”

I took several steps past him and then looked back over my shoulder. “Where’s my mount?”

He shook his head and strode ahead, clearly irritated. But after a few steps, he waved to the groomsmen, and the gelding I had ridden yesterday-could a girl say yesterday when it was almost seven centuries in the past?-was brought forward.

Marcello was ready for me; he just had hoped I wouldn’t show up. Yeah, well, you can give up on that idea, I thought, looking down at him as he lifted me to the cursed sidesaddle. You haven’t ever met a girl like me. In fact, you’re never going to meet a girl like me again.

He stared up at me then, his eyes searching mine as if reading my thoughts, and my heart skipped a beat. I took a deep breath, trying to steady it. Of all the cursed luck. I finally meet a potential man of my dreams, and he’s almost seven hundred years old. Literally. I lifted my head and gestured forward. “Shall we?”

“Indeed,” he said, tucking his chin, ever the gallant one. I glanced over at Lady Rossi, and she looked away, as if she wasn’t watching it all play out.

I took the reins more firmly in hand and tried to find the proper seating in the saddle. I felt like I was going to slide out of it at any moment. The gates opened. The six men circled their mounts and headed out, three ahead of me, three behind.

Lia, I thought. We’re coming. Please be okay. Please, please be okay. Please be here. I can’t do this alone….

Two hours later, I pulled off the trail in a small clearing, beside a boulder, and allowed the three men behind me to thunder past. I slid down off the horrible saddle and turned back to the horse. I heard the men shout, come to a halt, and then turn back.

“M’lady,” Marcello said, “we mustn’t tarry here. This hill is Paratore territory. At the moment.”

“Yeah, well, I only need a moment,” I muttered. I grabbed hold of the leather strap, unhooked the first buckle, then the second, and slid the saddle from the horse.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to show you,” I said, heaving the saddle behind the boulder and covering it with a huge, fallen branch, “how we ride in Normandy.”

“You can’t do that-“

“I’m holding you back, right?” I said, moving toward his horse, my mount’s reins still in hand. “Admit it. I’m holding you back.”

He returned my glance, and a coil of his gorgeous brown, curly hair flipped down over one brow. His horse danced beneath him. “Yes, you are holding us back. As I told you you would.”

“Well, I can fix that,” I said, turning away from him. “You’d best look away,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to be totally freaked out by what I’m about to do next,” I muttered, slipping back into English.

He didn’t turn away. Instead he stared at me intently as if he understood neither my words nor my intentions. Which made sense. Both were from another time, another place.

I tore two strips of cloth from my under skirt and bent to tie my gown into a form of pants, lashing each segment of the gown around my knees. Now, at least, I could ride. Bareback was better than that stupid sidesaddle. As soon as I stood up, I could see the blush on his cheeks. He looked to the side, as if he had come across me naked, or something. I supposed that, given the era, it had about the same effect.

I ignored him and climbed onto the rock and then flung myself across the broad back of my gelding, settling the reins again. I trotted forward and looked at Marcello until he met my gaze. “Now, we can ride,” I said, unable to hide my smile. Was that a tiny smile on his face? I squeezed the horse’s flanks with my heels, and we leaped forward.

I allowed my grin to spread as I passed the other men, their mouths agape. This was how my father had taught me and Lia to ride-without a saddle at all-as he had been taught on a farm in Italia. It felt familiar, comfortable. Like a hug from him.

My hair was already half-unpinned. I reached up and flung the three remaining pins in my hair to the side of the path, holding back a shout of pleasure. Yeah, you boys have never seen anyone like me. You know it. I know it. Wait until you get a load of my sis.

After a few minutes I heard the churning sounds of galloping hooves, the squeak of leather, the mechanical breath of a lathered horse, behind me. I bent lower in the saddle and urged my horse faster, along the winding path, ducking to avoid branches, bracing to jump small obstacles.

“M’lady, stop!” Marcello called.

But I wasn’t stopping. I was on my way to find Lia. My sister, possibly lost in the woods overnight-

“Please, m’lady,” he said, panting. “I beg of you.”

I hesitated. Surely a word like beg hardly ever left a man’s lips in this day and age. Couldn’t I give him a sec? Maybe one of his men had spotted something. A clue. I pulled up on the reins, suddenly realizing I was as winded as my panting horse.

My move apparently surprised Marcello. He passed me and then turned around, pulling to a halt in front of me. His arms crossed casually in front of him, regarding me with new, curious eyes. “So that is how Norman ladies ride?”

“Better than that silly saddle,” I said, jutting out my chin.

The other men arrived then, surrounding us, averting their eyes from the edge of my thin bloomer-like thingies and bare calves. “M’lord, we must make haste, back to the border,” Luca said, gesturing over his shoulder.

Oh no. I had led them onto the wrong path! I glanced around. If we were on Paratore land, it looked just like the Forellis’. Silly borders and battles. All I wanted was my sister!