She held out her hands to hold him off as though this meager effort would actually stop his progress. “Don’t come any closer!”
He cursed, although she could in no way understand what he said for he did so in a language unfamiliar to her. Clearly, he came to some decision, since he returned his sword to its place at his side. He ran his fingers through his hair, and she became aware how adorable he looked with a few strands sticking straight up. His serious expression altered to one of curiosity, and the change was so significant that Jade was fascinated by his transformation.
His mesmerizing eyes began to freely roam over her entire body, causing her cheeks to flush when their eyes at last met.
“Your garments are most strange…” he said, nodding in her direction.
“Strange? What’s so strange about jeans and a blouse?” she interrupted him.
“… as is your speech, mademoiselle,” he finished crossing his arms over his massive chest.
A half laugh, half snort escaped her, and she swore she saw the corners of his mouth twitch as he, too, saw the humor in her reaction to his words.
She pointed up and down at his own attire. “What medieval faire have you been at?” she asked, marveling at his clothes that were pretty darn authentic right down to his shiny sword.
“Faire?” he questioned with a raised brow.
“Oh, come on,” she teased. “Just look at you! You could be right off of a romance cover. Is that it? Are you one of those models who pose for book covers? If you are, I’ve got to find one with you on it. You’re the perfect personification of a handsome medieval knight.” She smiled as though she had finally figured him out.
His mouth dropped open before his lips snapped shut. “I have no notion of what you are babbling about, woman,” he growled out.
“You don’t have to be so rude,” she said with a shake of her finger as though he were a misbehaving child.
He moved so quickly she had no time to put any distance between them. He took ahold of her wrist and began pulling her body toward his. Her reaction was immediate as she went to push him away, but the instant her palms landed on his chest, searing heat radiated and shot straight up her arms. He must have felt it too, for his eyes widened in surprise before his hand moved to her waist. She should be protesting their intimate contact, but she couldn’t have even if she tried... or wanted to. She was too stunned by what was going on in her body and her reaction to this handsome stranger. Whatever the reason, her heart seemed to draw its own life from being next to this man as it began hammering away in her chest.
“You have me at a disadvantage, my lady.” His husky tone was a complete reversal from what came out of his mouth but a few seconds before. She watched when his lips formed a cocky grin, as though he knew exactly what she was feeling.
“I do?” she managed to whisper.
“We have met afore, have we not, and yet I know not your name. Who are you?” he asked, whispering in her ear.
Goosebumps raced down her spine as she listened to him inhale the scent of her hair.
“Y-yes, we’ve met, kind of. At the beach but you weren’t really there. You were younger, too,” she answered before hesitantly reaching up to touch his cheek. He was real!
He leaned into her palm, and her knees just about buckled.
“Who are you?” he repeated. His eyes searched hers for answers.
“Jade, and you are…” Her question trailed off but lingered in the air between them.
“Thomas,” he replied, and she watched in fascination when he lowered his head, pressing his lips to her own in a gentle kiss.
Chapter 4
Thomas bolted upright from his bed, his fingertips automatically brushing against his mouth. His lips tingled as though they had, in truth, been kissing the woman from his dreams, a woman who was clearly not from his time. Her speech, her dress, and even the way she comported herself told him much. This woman was not some mild-mannered lady but one who was used to speaking her mind.
Rising from his bed, he tore off his tunic from the day afore and went to a chest placed in the corner of his room. His fingers shook when he lifted the lid, afore it slammed shut once more after he grabbed a fresh garment. He placed kindling on the red embers in the hearth ’til they sparked to life, yet the warmth of the growing fire did nothing to take the chill from his body. He shivered in remembrance of the same feelings from years past.
He poured a chalice of wine and sat afore the fire, lost in thought whilst staring into the flames. ’Twas not as though other strange women had not come to Berwyck’s gates. Aye. Lord Dristan bitterly complained more often than not that he was losing his best knights to these future guests who stole the hearts of his men. In truth, he had really only lost two captains of his guard who were now happily married with children of their own. ’Twas a rare occurrence for Riorden de Deveraux or Fletcher Monroe to return to Berwyck these days. He heard tell the knights were afraid to lose their lovely ladies to Time.
A snort escaped Thomas whilst he pondered the mysteries of his own sorry life. His brows narrowed as he wondered if mayhap Kenna’s vision was actually of one of these women from another place in time. God’s Bones, he thought afore he drained his wine in one long gulp. How would he endure such a fate? Yet the woman in his dreams was not unfamiliar to him, and his hands again trembled as he set the now-empty chalice upon a table next to his chair.
Aye! He had seen her afore in his vision when he had first placed that infernal ring upon his finger. A ring that had cost him everything! His family, his home, and, even more importantly, his honor. Years had passed since his last petition to his father asking if he could return home. But his father still had little faith in him even after all these years, and Thomas had given in to his sire’s edict that he cease attempting to contact anyone in the Kincaid clan again. ’Twas as though Thomas no longer existed as far as his sire was concerned, and he wondered, not for the first time, how his mother and siblings fared.
Enough, he shouted inside his head. ’Twould serve him no good to continue on where his mind always wandered… to return home with his honor restored in his father’s eyes if he but had the ring. His lips tingled again, causing his eyes to widen. What if the woman was the key? If she, in truth, had the ring and was to travel to this time, he could petition her to give the item to him. Such an act should cost her nothing, and then Thomas could return home to where he truly belonged!
He grabbed a leather belt and fastened it afore reaching out for his sword. ’Twas the one thing he owned with the swirling design of the Kincaid clan engraved upon the gleaming metal, a grim reminder of from whence he came. He grinned with a sense of purpose afore sliding the blade into the scabbard and making his way from the room.
“Good morn, Sir Thomas,” Lord Dristan announced as he fell into step with him. “Ready for a day of training?”
“My Lord,” Thomas said with a short nod whilst managing to hide the groan of despair threatening to surface. A day of training in the middle of a snowstorm held no appeal. He thought of another approach. “I thought mayhap you would skip such an endeavor with Christmas but a day away.”
Lord Dristan let out a deep chuckle as they began making their way down the turret stairs. “Tomorrow we shall rest, but today, we train as we do any other day. Besides, ’tis the best of days to prove your worth that you are capable of defending yourself whilst your feet threaten to slip from beneath you.”
“An empty belly is hardly advantageous to a hard day’s training upon the lists either, my lord.”
Another laugh rumbled in Lord Dristan’s chest. “I must needs have speech with the Lady Amiria. Her guardsmen are growing soft,” he complained, and were it not for the twinkle in his gray eyes, Thomas would have sworn his lord was disappointed in him.
“I am not soft,” he scoffed, “and am more than ready to prove myself at any hour of the day.”
“That is the spirit, Sir Thomas,” Dristan stated with a hardy slap across Thomas’
s shoulder.
Lord Dristan was clearly satisfied with Thomas’s answer, but his lord’s cheery disposition quickly turned into a mighty scowl when he witnessed a table of knights who had come to Berwyck to train with the Devil’s Dragon.
They were a boisterous lot, and their leader, Gaillard de Rowen, was full of self-worth, as though God himself had shined down and bestowed upon him his talent with a sword. Thomas had not cared for the man the moment he crossed onto Berwyck’s lands, and the feeling had been more than mutual.
“I will be glad when this storm abates, and I can personally toss the lot of them from my gates,” Dristan growled out.
There was no need for Thomas to inquire about whom his lord was referring to. ’Twas obvious he cared not for Gaillard any more than Thomas did.
“I, too, will be happy to see them to your border, my lord. There is something about their leader that I do not care for.”
Dristan’s brow rose whilst he looked upon Thomas afore a smirk lit his face. “Then come. Let us see about showing Gaillard some manners and how one comports oneself under my roof.”
When Dristan entered the Great Hall, he bellowed for his knights to grab their gear and report to the lists. Knights began scampering out the door as they followed his orders. Thomas’s gaze met Gaillard’s, and his lips curved into a cocky grin. He would show this arrogant arse a thing or two, and there was no better way than to do so with his blade in hand.
Thomas gathered his cloak around him and headed out into the storm, whistling a merry tune as he went. The day was going to be most satisfying, especially when he personally sent Gaillard sailing through the air to land in the snow. The only thing that would be better was if the woman were to appear at Berwyck with his ring.
He knew her name, and he conjured her image from his dreams. “Jade, come back to me…” he whispered into the winter wind in some wild hope she would in truth hear him from across the centuries keeping them apart.
Chapter 5
Jade reached for the man of her dreams. “Thomas!” she called out to the empty room, but the only sound was her own voice echoing his name, the name of the man whom she swore she knew. But how was that even possible? This Thomas certainly didn’t live in the twenty-first century. That was perfectly clear! Still… she swore she could feel his lips pressed to her own. Their kiss had been but a gentle urging of what Jade knew was to come if they could have continued.
She tossed the covers from the bed and stormed to the bathroom. Plunging her head beneath the cool water of the shower should pull her out of her hallucinations. But as she washed the last of the conditioner from her hair, she turned off the water and opened the shower door to listen. She could have sworn she heard the sound of swords as they clanged together in battle.
“Get a grip on yourself, Jade. You must have turned on the television,” she reprimanded herself before she grabbed a fluffy towel to dry herself and donned her clothes. Although she didn’t have to worry about snow today like she would have if she had been back in Michigan, San Francisco was cold this time of year, especially with the ocean winds whipping into the bay. Her sweater and long coat should keep her warm enough while she played the tourist and explored parts of the city.
With her makeup done and her hair thrown carelessly back into a messy bun, she took only a moment to look at her reflection. She shrugged, thinking her appearance would do. Besides, she had no one to impress but herself, and that was exactly the way she wanted her vacation to be. Nothing planned, spur of the moment fun, and no drama allowed.
She grabbed her purse but dropped the brush she had planned to take with her when she left the bathroom and saw the television was turned off. Eyes wide, she listened to voices that were coming to her as clear as day. She went to the nightstand, thinking the radio was on. That, too, was off, but the ring she had left there the night before had a strange yellow glow.
“What the hell?” she cried out.
She could not seem to help herself when her hand moved forward to hover over the shiny gold metal, thinking it would be warm. She was mistaken, and she picked up the ring to look at it in her palm, finding the metal was cool to the touch. The voices grew louder until she heard the ring… No! Not the ring… it was him! She heard Thomas from her dreams!
“Jade, come back to me…”
Everything suddenly seemed as though Jade was watching some crazy sci-fi movie. How else could the ring actually be moving of its own will toward her finger even while she took hold of the shiny gold metal and attempted to pull it away with all her might?
“Someone help me,” she shouted, as she continued to struggle with the ring.
Whatever magic surrounded this thing was way beyond Jade’s ability to understand it, and she could tell she was losing the battle when the ring easily slipped onto the index finger of her left hand as though it belonged there.
She fell, or maybe, she was floating in a misty cloud of nothingness. But she was not alone, for images came to her of those whom she presumed had held the ring before her and throughout time: a Viking lord whose ancestors forged the ring’s beginning; Thomas as the young boy she first saw, a ghostly apparition tossing the ring into the forest to never see it again; a man in Middle-Eastern robes showing the ring to a woman, who took it with the hand that did not cradle a baby to her breast, then handed it to a servant before the man bent to kiss her.
And still, the voices from distant times continued as images played before her while the wind whipped all around. Next came an unkempt man with his shirt open to his waist, hallucinating in an opium den before laying down the ultimate hand of cards. He looked over his winnings, mostly objects and nothing of worth except a golden ring too small for his finger. He picked up the band that was warm, almost hot to the touch, before watching in disbelief when the metal increased in size. I need to lay off the pipe. His words whispered inside Jade’s head before she watched him slip on the ring and be slammed back into his chair with a sudden drive to return home.
Jade continued her unexpected journey until she observed the next scene. Two men, their red coats dark with rain in the glow from their campfire, sat hunched beneath a blanket in the deluge. One man reached out, offering what could only be the ring to the other, a tall, dark-haired Scot who slipped the gold band onto his finger and then gripped the hand with his other before he was lost from sight, and Jade continued onward, as though she were rushing through time itself.
The next image raced across her mind of a pale, ebony-haired, gray-eyed woman in a worn, green dress. She cradled the ring and stared out a window, dreaming of the man who'd left her. The dream was so strong, Jade instantly saw a tall man with coppery brown hair and laughing blue eyes. He wore leather pants, a flannel shirt, and a Scottish Tam. The vision faded as quickly as it had come.
The ring was once more lost until a weary-looking young woman digging for root vegetables uncovered it in a field. Jade could hear her fanciful thoughts as the woman brushed off the ring clearly and thought the guiding star she observed might bring her to a certain man. Her laughter echoed across Jade’s mind when she watched the woman place the ring in her pocket. Later, this same woman and a ginger-haired man searched the deck of a ship for the lost ring before they kissed.
Next came a man with lighter brown hair, neatly cut, who appeared to Jade as though he were a former soldier down on his luck. The scene rushed around her, and she saw the man finding the ring in the street, turning it in at a police station, only to return when no one claimed it. Time must have passed, for the next thing Jade saw was the same man and a woman sailing on a boat. The ring slipped from his finger while checking the rigging and disappeared into the dark waters below.
Everything came full circle when she saw herself finding the ring, and the image of Thomas as a grown man whispered to her in her dreams as though calling for to her to join him. “Jade, come back to me…”
She now found herself falling at an alarming rate of speed. Her cry for help was lost as the ring pull
ed her arm forward to wherever she was destined to go. Wet, cold snow stung her face until she hit the frozen ground as Thomas’s name slipped easily past her lips. She looked up. There was nothing to see but whirling snow all around before her head slumped to the damp ground, and she knew no more.
Chapter 6
Thomas swung his sword, narrowly missing Gaillard’s head when he ducked at the last instant. A satisfied smirk lit the corners of Thomas’s mouth, but his smile fell when he swore he heard his name carried on the frosty wind. His opponent took his leave of the lists and ran toward the gate leading in the direction of the village. Odd that, Thomas thought, but even stranger was the urge to follow the knight, along with the intense feeling someone was in need of his aid.
He did not ask permission to leave but sheathed the blade at his side and followed the footprints left in the newly fallen snow. Gaillard would not earn the respect of Lord Dristan by acting the coward, and Thomas had the distinct premonition something else had caused the knight to leave the training field.
It did not take long to find out where Gaillard had gone. In truth, he had not traveled far past Berwyck’s walls. Thomas observed the knight kneeling down at a fallen figure lying prone in the snow. The knight jumped to his feet and whirled around afore drawing his sword and pointing it toward Thomas.
“I claim this woman as my own,” Gaillard shouted, whilst swinging his blade back and forth as though to prove his point.
Thomas came forward for he feared nothing, including the knight threatening him. He crossed his arms over his chest as though Gaillard’s words held no worth. “This is not a time of war. You cannot claim some woman you just found in the snow. If she is not the wife of one of the villagers, then Lord Dristan would be bound to protect her since she has been found on his lands.”
A frown crossed Gaillard’s brow as he pondered Thomas’s words. “She is mine,” he yelled, “and not you nor the Devil’s Dragon will take her from me!”
One Last Kiss: The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time, Book Five Page 3
