Falling Through Time: A Lighthearted Time Travel Romance (Knights Through Time Romance Book 13)

by Cynthia Luhrs

  Sam had done an outstanding job getting the floors dry. You couldn’t even tell there’d been a storm.

  While Duncan went upstairs to bring down the rest of the mannequins and display racks, Violet unpacked the bags he’d placed on the counters. Once they were unpacked and organized, she leaned against the counter deciding how she would stage the scene.

  “Do ye need anything else?” Duncan eyed the white and brown mannequins as if he were waiting for them to spring to life.

  “Let’s put them in the windows.” She picked up a mannequin of a dog and the beach towels she’d brought with her.

  “I’ll carry the rest, my lady.”

  Violet blushed as she opened the low gate to the raised floor. The floor was hardwood and the walls white to showcase the designs.

  “We should probably do Thanksgiving or Christmas, but I had such a great time at the beach I thought it would be fun to do a beach theme. I’ll change it up in time for Thanksgiving.”

  She spread the beach towels on the floor, then told Duncan where to place the mannequins.

  The male mannequin was kneeling on a towel, the dog next to him while the female mannequin reclined on a towel, a book at her side.

  “While I pose and dress them, would you go back upstairs and look against the far wall for the waves? They’re wood painted to look like the ocean.”

  He nodded and jogged across the boutique. While she worked, Violet thought about Duncan and the designs she’d submitted to her parents.

  If they accepted the dresses, she’d have to move to New York and she couldn’t see Duncan fitting in there. But she bet he’d love all the models, just like her dad

  Sure, he’d look amazing in a suit and tie, but what would he do for a living? He belonged outdoors, not in a steel and concrete city.

  It wasn’t like there was a need for an ancient warrior versed in battle. Violet sat back on her heels. Or was there? Men liked to get away on adventure trips with their friends. Could he teach them to use a sword? Or maybe reenact ancient battles?

  Gram would be back soon, she’d have an idea, and if Violet remembered correctly, she thought her grandmother had mentioned a man in Italy with mysterious connections.

  An old song about boys coming back for the summer filled the silence, making her jump.

  “I figured out how to make the music go.” Duncan was wearing shorts, a tee shirt, and his boots. She narrowed her eyes, betting he had daggers in both shoes.

  “I like this song. Wonderful choice to play beach music while we work.” Violet had unlocked her phone so he could play music and games when she was busy working. Duncan was fond of a couple of word games. It was odd to see a medieval warrior playing games on a modern phone.

  Once she was satisfied with the scene, they took a break. Duncan opened the cooler and pulled out cold bottles of soda for each of them.

  “What else would ye have me do?”

  He sat in one of the deep pink chairs scattered throughout the boutique.

  “Nothing. I just need to dress them and we’re done. I’d like to work on a few designs if you don’t mind. Maybe a few hours and then we can go to dinner. I noticed on the way here that the pizza place is open.”

  Duncan pulled his hair back and secured it with one of her old ponytail holders.

  “Sam said he could use a hand with two of the shops down the street so I will aid him in his work.”

  “Perfect. I’ll call Sam when I’m done.”

  She curled her legs under her in the chair across from him.

  Duncan looked at her for a long moment before he stood. “I will see ye soon. Lock the door, Violet.”

  Knowing he’d wait until she did, Violet heaved herself out of the chair and followed him to the door.

  Duncan turned and touched her cheek. “Ye had a bit of dirt there on your cheek.”

  His fingers were warm against her skin. They stood there, looking at each other for what seemed like hours but was more likely only a minute or two. Then he shook himself and stepped out into the light as she locked the door behind him.

  It didn’t take her long to dress the mannequins. For the finishing touches, Violet added a big embroidered sunhat, oversize sunglasses, sparkly flip flops, and the obligatory bottle of sunscreen.

  Sam and Duncan were probably still working, so she stretched out on the sofa with a sketchpad to work on a few ideas, but she kept getting distracted, finding herself sketching him instead of dresses. His eyes, his hands, him on the beach, and his smile.

  “Oh, Violet, you are in deep, deep trouble,” she whispered.

  16

  “Wake up, lass.” The shop was dark when Duncan and Sam returned. The handyman let him in and then went on his way, eager to watch the game. After assuring him they would lock up, Duncan went inside to find Violet.

  She was asleep on the sofa, the tablet on the floor beside her. He used a flashlight Sam gave him to make his way through the darkened shop. The small metal tube was a marvelous invention. To send light into the darkness with the push of a button ’twas magic.

  When he picked up the expensive tablet so she wouldn’t step on it, it came on and he saw she’d been drawing. ’Twas a picture of them at the beach, sitting on the blanket and watching the waves.

  She did care for him. He could stay. Make a life here with her. Sam had given him a few ideas. The man wasn’t daft; he knew Duncan wasn’t an actor who had lost his memory, so he told the man the truth he had already suspected. Sam nodded and asked him to fetch another sheet of plywood. Later they talked about ways he might make his way in the world.

  ’Twas a good feeling to know the man believed him. There were moments Violet looked at him as if she did not truly believe he had fallen through time. That she did not believe him wounded his heart and his pride.

  Violet murmured in her sleep and turned over. He touched her shoulder.

  “Violet, ’tis time to wake.”

  This time, she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

  “I fell asleep. What time is it?”

  Of course she would ask him the time, she was always looking at a clock instead of letting the day unfold as it would.

  He grinned and picked up the tablet. “’Tis half seven.” Then he held up the tablet. “You find me pleasing.”

  Her cheeks turned a faint pink in the light of his torch.

  “Maybe I do.”

  ’Twas enough for him. Her stomach rumbled.

  “Shall I procure food for my lady?”

  Violet stood and stretched, yawning widely.

  “The pizza place is open. They’re using generators until the power comes back on tomorrow. It’s takeout, but we could eat on the lanai and watch the stars. One week until the full moon.”

  Somehow, Duncan nodded. The full moon. He had to decide to stay or go. The first night of the full moon would be his one chance to go back. Not home. Now things had changed. Violet was his home.

  “Pizza is good. And ale?”

  “Yes. Beer. My gram never drinks beer except with pizza, she says nothing else goes as well with the crust and toppings.”

  He waited while she packed up her things, then he took the bags from her, stowed them in the car and took her hand to walk down the street to find food.

  There were many people at the restaurant. He sniffed.

  “I could eat ten of these pizzas, they smell delicious.”

  “They have the best pizza in town.”

  Duncan pushed the door open, placing his hand on the small of her back as they went inside. He met the gaze of two men, held it until they looked away. She was his.

  Violet handed him a paper with the food selections.

  “Nay, there are too many choices, you decide.”

  “I know just what to order.”

  She stepped up to the counter and ordered pepperoni, meat lovers, and a white pizza to which she added spinach. Duncan fetched the ale from a cooler next to the counter.

  By the time their food came and they walk
ed back to the car, Duncan was ravenous. He placed the food in the back of the carriage and saw Violet safely in the seat when he turned and felt cool steel against his ribs.

  “Give me all your money and you won’t die.”

  Violet shrieked and tried to open the door, but Duncan leaned against it, keeping her safe inside.

  “Nay, Violet. Stay inside while I dispatch this dolt.”

  He slowly turned to face the would be thief.

  “I have no money.”

  The man held what Duncan now knew was a gun, a verra powerful weapon.

  “Don’t mess with me, give me the money or I’ll kill her.”

  That was all he heard. Duncan stepped forward into the gun, grasped the man’s wrist and twisted as the pathetic weakling yelped and dropped the gun.

  The blow came from behind, taking Duncan to his knees. Ugly laughter sounded as Violet screamed.

  There were three men looking for a fight, and worse. Happy to oblige, Duncan plowed his fist into the first man’s face, sending him to the ground. The other two pulled out wee knives, making him laugh.

  On the balls of his feet, Duncan pulled the blades from his boots and bared his teeth.

  “Ye call that wee thing a knife?” He sneered at them.

  “Come on, then.”

  The men cast nervous glances at each other. He saw the moment they shifted their weight to lunge. He knocked them back with a blow apiece.

  Sheathing his blades, Duncan picked up one and threw him into the wall of the building. The first man limped away, leaving his friends to fend for themselves.

  The third man struck out, screaming like a wee babe. There was a sharp sting, then warmth. Duncan looked down to see the broken blade on the ground and in the man’s hand a broken piece of glass. He lunged forward, but the car door flew open and the man went flying.

  Violet was shaking, her face pale, her eyes so blue they were almost black.

  “They could have killed you. Why didn’t you let me help you?” She stomped over to him and took his arm. “We need to get you to Urgent Care, you’re bleeding all over.”

  “Ach, ’tis naught but a scratch, dinna fash.”

  His Violet cared enough to fuss over him. Now was not the right moment, but he needed to tell her how he felt, that he wished to stay here in this wondrous time with her.

  “Ye were verra ferocious lass.” Duncan pointed to the man who leaned against a car, shaking his head. He took one look at them and held up his hands.

  “Sorry.” He stumbled down the street after the other would be thieves.

  Violet pulled paper towels out of a bag, opened a bottle of ale and poured it onto the towel.

  “What are ye doing, lass? You’re wasting perfectly good ale.”

  The withering look she turned on him could have turned him to stone. Her lip curled, and she snarled at him.

  “You idiot. Who knows how dirty those knives were.”

  “’Twas a broken piece of glass, not a wee blade.”

  Violet went up on her toes and poked him in the shoulder. Hard.

  “Duncan McTavish not another word or I swear, I’ll push you in the waterway and let the gators eat you tonight.”

  He chuckled. “As ye say, lass.”

  Scowling, she poured more ale onto the paper and wiped the blood from his face. Not that he would ever admit it, but no one had ever fussed over him.

  ’Twas nice to be cared for, to know someone worried for him so he let her have her way as he stood there hoping no one wandered by to see her treating him like a wee lad.

  “There.” She stood back, hands on her hips, scowling. “At least you’re not bleeding any longer.” She walked to a trash can and threw away the bloodied towels.

  “Who knows what germs or dirt were on that dirty piece of glass. The beer cleans the wound so it won’t get infected.” She peered at the scratch on his forehead.

  “I don’t think it will leave a scar.”

  Duncan picked her up and held her close, so close he could see green and blue flecks in her angry blue eyes.

  “What’s one more scar? I do not care.”

  His lady was still verra angry, so instead of kissing her senseless, he gently pressed his lips to her brow.

  “I thank ye for tending me once again.” He held her for another moment before putting her down. “I did not wish to worry ye.”

  She let out a breath. “It all happened so fast. There were three men. You fought off all three like it was nothing.”

  With a wink, Duncan said, “they were puny men, more like lads. They smelled wrong.”

  “Drugs, I think.” Violet hugged him, holding him so tight he couldn’t breathe. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “You were fierce. Ye would make a fine warrior.” He ruffled her short hair. It suited her, made her look like a fae warrior princess. “Is the carriage unharmed?”

  Violet’s lips trembled, then she doubled over laughing. “You’re bleeding and all you can think about is if the car has a dent? Men.” She stood by the open door.

  “Let’s go home. I’ll introduce you to the joys of eating cold pizza, and then I’ll tell you all about Halloween.”

  He saw her settled in the car before going to the driver’s side. A big black truck, that’s what he would have after the full moon passed.

  Duncan was staying. Nothing would tear him away from Violet. Once the moon waned and he knew he could stay, then and only then would he would ask her to be his for all time.

  17

  “That’s odd.”

  Violet frowned at her phone. She had charged up the devices while they were at the beach. The local wireless company set up a charging van for people to power up all their devices until the utility restored power.

  Anytime now, the power would be back on. Violet had seen utility workers all around town. They worked long hours to restore service, unsung heroes of the storm.

  She reread the text from her mom, frowning. No, it definitely wasn’t meant for her. The man had the same first letter in his name, Vincenzo. Why was she corresponding with their biggest competitor?

  Her own mother had passed off Violet’s designs as her own. Both dresses she’d sent her parents now had her mom’s name on them.

  For a moment, Violet thought she would pass out. Black spots floated in front of her eyes. Heat burned through her body from the inside out.

  A friend of her grandmother’s told Violet what she remembered a hot flash felt like. This had to be similar, and if it was, could she skip the whole menopause thing when she got older?

  Men should have to go through ‘the change’ as gram’s friends called it. The world would stop while the big babies dealt with the changes to their bodies. Wow, she was in a mood.

  Fury burned bright as she called her mom. The call rang but then went to voicemail so her own mother had ignored her call. Smart, she must have realized she sent the text to her by mistake and knew Violet would be livid.

  If Violet hadn’t known Vincenzo was from a rival fashion house, she would have thought he was the latest man in her mother’s list of lengthy affairs.

  She snorted. Her dad wasn’t any better. The phone rang and when he answered, something was off.

  “Dad? Where are you? I swear I hear Italian in the background.” What on earth was going on?

  “Hi, honey. Just a quick trip to see to a few things. You know how much I love the fabrics from Italy.”

  “Is there anything you and mom want to tell me?”

  She breathed in, held it, then breathed out, trying to let go of the anger flooding her veins.

  “No… I don’t think so.”

  Violet rolled her eyes. Her dad was the worst liar.

  “How about the fact mom stole my dress designs?”

  Then she said so softly her dad asked her to repeat herself, “was there ever a chance you and mom were going to bring me to New York?”

  Her dad cleared his throat. He was brilliant with fabrics and factories, but
not so good with children. It was probably the reason Violet was an only child.

  “Sweetheart, your mom and I don’t want you in this cutthroat business. It’s hard keeping the company going. There are so many knockoff companies, it’s getting harder and harder to stay afloat. I’m sure your mom was going to tell you the designs were for the company, so what does it matter whose name is on the dresses? It isn’t a good time to start a new line with someone as inexperienced as you.”

  He cleared his throat. “The dresses are lovely, Vi. But… your mom and I feel you should stay in Florida. Continue creating small capsule collections for the boutique.”

  There were voices in the background.

  “I have to go. We’ll talk later, honey.” And he hung up.

  Well, at least he had the courage to take her call and admit her own parents had stolen from her.

  “I would have given you the designs if you’d only told me the truth,” Violet whispered to the blank screen of the phone.

  She wiped away the tears and took a deep breath. At least now she knew the truth. So she would focus on designing amazing collections for the boutique and work on her dream of selling her own clothing online, accessible to everyone in a wide variety of sizes.

  For the rest of the afternoon, Violet stayed away from Duncan as she sat staring at the wall, needing time to herself to think, to reevaluate, and to make an alternative plan for her life.

  When it was too dark inside to see, she stood and stretched. No more feeling sorry for herself. Time to focus and make her own dreams come true.

  She loved her parents, but she would never work with them, never give her mom another design. Resolved, she went in search of Duncan.

  He would go back to the past soon if the woman in the new age shop was right. Who cared if Violet had fallen and fallen hard for him? He was leaving, going back where he belonged, and she would be happy for him, even if her own heart was coming apart at the seams.

  Violet found Duncan outside on the dock, sitting in a chair, looking out at the water.

  “Are ye finished working?” He handed her an icy cold bottle of beer. “I heard you talking to someone. You sounded angry. Tell me what is amiss and I will run through whoever hurt you.”