Now and Forever:: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVEL ROMANCE NOVEL (RAVENHURST SERIES Book 5)

by Lorraine Beaumont

  “Gwen?” Milford gave him a bewildered look.

  “Guinevere, she is the snake. She helps keep the mice a bay. I don’t mind them so much but my pet cannot abide them.”

  Milford looked at the bird, then at the snake, wondering which one was the pet or were they both.

  “I am waiting…”

  Swallowing hard, Milford brought his gaze back to Merlin, pulling at his tunic. To be on the safe side he lifted his booted feet up on one of the rungs of the chair. “I have done something…unforgiveable.”

  Merlin sighed. “Yes, yes, you already told me that much…now go on. It’s not like I have an eternity to listen to your belly aching you know.”

  Then Merlin did something even Milford had no idea he knew how to do. He laughed. It was hearty and robust and sounded long over do. And yet the sound of Merlin’s laughter made him flinch just as the Ravens caws had, if not more.

  Once he finally composed himself, he looked at Milford. “Sorry, you may continue.”

  It took three tries before Milford was finally able to manage to tell Merlin all of what transpired. When he came to the end of his story, he was literally quaking in his overlarge boots. He chanced a look into Merlin’s eyes, so light; they reminded him of mirrors or windows, both looking straight into his soul. Dread made an appearance, wrapping around his chest so tightly he could barely breathe.

  “Stupid boy,” Merlin said, shaking his head, making his dark sleek hair fall over one shoulder. He lifted his hands and rubbed them over his face. “Did you do this yourself or did someone ask you to do this…this… foul deed?” He lifted his hand in the air, waving it through the air.

  Milford cleared his throat. “I did it myself…I didn’t mean to hurt my master,” he said. “It was the girl…she looked like a Mon…Mon…Monster,” he stuttered, trying to explain his actions.

  “How odd,” he said thoughtfully. “So, no one helped you?”

  “Well,” he exhaled, twisting his hands together. “Morrigan said I needed to reveal her true identity to my Master. She gave me a relic but I …ah…lost it you see. But then I found it again and placed it under her seat at the table.

  “Ah….” Merlin exhaled as if this explained everything. “That little witch.” He let out a heavy sigh and stood from the table. The chair screeched as he pushed it back, making Milford shake even more. He walked over to a wooden board hanging on the wall. Lifting his hand, he stuck his finger to the wood and dragged it slowly across the top. The smell of burning wood filled the chamber. “Three to two,” he sighed, shaking his head and making a tsk…tsking noise as he stared at the board. Abruptly he turned the expression in his light gray eyes unreadable. “Do you still think she is a monster?”

  “Well, no.” Young Milford shifted awkwardly. “Well maybe, I really do not know for sure.”

  Merlin gave him a questioning look.

  “She is gone now,” he elaborated, then let his gaze drop to the floor, looking at the symbols carved into the stone underfoot.

  The bird cawed again, making Milford jump in his seat and then flew across the room to the basin of water in the corner.

  “What do you see, Lance?”

  Milford widened his eyes at the bird—Lance?

  Merlin smiled. “It is short for Lancelot.”

  Milford swallowed hard and pulled on his tunic again, he felt like it was choking him. “Isn’t Lancelot the name of a knight?”

  “Why yes, yes it is,” he answered without further explanation. The weight of many centuries’ burdens weighed heavily on his shoulders. Blatantly ignoring the boy’s questioning stare Merlin, made his way across the room to where the raven had settled on the ledge of the basin. A large sliver ladle hung from the wall. Merlin lifted it up and dipped it down inside of a strange urn with symbols scratched into the surface and then dumped it into the empty basin. After he said a few words that Milford could not understand nor really hear he leaned forward and peered closely at the water.

  Merlin placed his hand on the ledge of the basin, feeling the full weight of many centuries already pushing against him. If only he had not been such a foolish young lad, maybe this…this…predicament would be preventable. “He doesn’t remember her.” He shook his head as though this saddened him immeasurably.

  “Who?” Milford forced out the singular word.

  “The Raven Knight of course. He is the Master you speak of, is he not?”

  “Yes, but how is that possible?” Milford asked.

  Merlin didn’t answer his question but instead asked one of his own. “This girl you speak of, does she have violet eyes?”

  “I …I…think so.” Milford was afraid to look up. Afraid of what he might see. He heard Merlin moving about the chamber, his long cloak making a swishing noise against the stone.

  “She is no longer gone…she is back,” he said gazing once again down into the pool of water. “Well, she was…now she is gone again but she is here, in this time once more.” He pressed his lips in a firm line.

  “What?” Milford gaped. “She is back!” His voice rose expectantly. He clasped his hands together. “Oh thank you, thank you.” He bowed his head to Merlin, his greasy hair falling into his eyes. “Now my master can be the way he was…everything will be the way it was intended to be.” Taking a shaky breath of relief Young Milford stood up quickly, nearly tipping the chair he was sitting in. He grabbed it to steady it and then turned to leave.

  “Wait.”

  Young Milford stopped so fast he pitched forward. Regaining his balance, he turned. “Yes.”

  “Now you must do something for me.”

  “Anything,” said Young Milford.

  “Anything?” Merlin asked, lifting his dark brow in turn, as he made his way back across the room.

  The raven, Lance, fluttered his wings and cawed loudly, making the candle flicker on the table. Merlin reached up and scratched the head of the animal and then walked over to the cauldron and tossed in a few herbs. He chanted the words he needed and then a poof of white smoke swirled into the air.

  “What are you doing?” Young Milford asked in a thready voice.

  “Something I should have done long ago.”

  “What is that?” he asked. Daring to look, he lifted his eyes and stared at Merlin who now stood in front of the hearth. White smoke billowed from inside filling the room with an alluring sweet aroma.

  “I am interfering.”

  A night such as this

  PRESENT DAY RAVENHURST

  RAVEN pulled the covers up closer under her chin. A flash of lighting lit up the room for a brief moment and then everything turned black once more.

  It was too damn dark. The lights had gone out an hour ago and still hadn’t come back on. Shifting, she settled back further against the carved wooden headboard and gathered up all the pillows on the bed. One by one, she stacked them around her body, making a makeshift barricade.

  “Now I am covered in all sides,” she said. It was stupid really, using pillows as a barricade against whatever Heebie Jeebie things that might be lurking in the dark. But it did make her feel safer ensconced between mountains of feathered pillows, just the same. Pulling the covers up under her chin, she darted her eyes around the gloomy shadows of the room. Everything made a noise: the scratching of a branch on the window…the floor creaking. Even the damn curtains made an eerie swishing noise every time the wind blew too hard. Rain pelted against the windows, like nails scratching. She looked warily over to the window, half expecting a vampire to be hanging outside floating in the air, like in the old movie Salem’s Lot. Every noise had her flinching, setting her nerves on edge.

  “Stupid creepy house,” she complained, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to get some much-needed sleep, but just like her newly acquired husband, it eluded her.

  Instead, she tried to ignore them, the creepy noises, and tried to think of other things…like Reed. The way his arms wrapped around her securely, his muscular body pressed against her own. The way his l
ips had felt, his tongue warm, lashing with hers. It was so hot. It was or would have been yet another perfect movie moment. But it had ended too quickly and now she was all alone with only her thoughts for company.

  “Stupid fake wedding,” she complained and picked at a loose thread on the musty smelling coverlet. She glanced toward the door, wondering what Reed was doing. Was he asleep? Or was he too, in bed thinking of her? She snorted in derision. “Right.” Knowing Reed, he was probably sound asleep. Or… was he with Cecily?

  Another clap of thunder boomed outside, making the house shudder.

  She jumped. Her makeshift barricade tumbled down.

  “Shit!”

  She leaned forward, making a mad grab for the pillows before they hit the floor. The floor was off limits. Actually, anything extending beyond the perimeter of the bed was officially declared “The Unsafe Zone,” meaning any and all creepy crawlies, or heebie jeebies or flesh eating Zombies, may be at this very moment waiting for her to slip out into “The Unsafe Zone” and then she would be a goner. Very carefully, she pulled back one of the pillows that was precariously teetering on the edge. “Phew.” She swiped a hand over her brow. She was being melodramatic she knew. But hey, she was all alone, in a room in a pretty creepy place, with no light, in the middle of a thunderstorm, so in other words, she was entitled to a little melodrama.

  Again, she piled her pathetic barricade around her body and hunkered down to wait out the storm. Once she felt secure, she closed her eyes and instead of Reed, her thoughts turned back to Cecily.

  Why was she really here? Milford told her when he brought up a candle earlier (the one that was in “The Unsafe Zone,” so when the flame went out she didn’t reach over to relight it) that Cecily would be staying overnight, but when Raven had asked to speak to her, Milford had informed her Cecily had retired for the evening. What in the hell was that about? And was she really sleeping or was she with Reed? And if she wasn’t with Reed why didn’t she want to talk to her? When she voiced her concerns to Milford, he became too quiet and then tossed out some crappy explanation that Cecily was overexcited and needed to take a sleep aid. “Yeah right,” she scoffed.

  So now Raven didn’t know anything more than she did earlier. And now that the stupid lights had gone out, she was in the dark, figuratively and literally, too. One of the bigger questions that bothered her was how did Cecily even know Lucian? And was she the person Lucian had been talking to in the library when she walked in on him earlier? And where was Lucian now? He was obviously not with Cecily. But was Reed?

  “Arrgh,” she gritted, and twisted the stinky coverlet in frustration. She was getting a damn headache thinking of all the scenarios that could be happening. “I am not going to think about it,” she told herself. Closing her eyes once more, she tried to will herself to sleep. One hundred… Ninety-Nine… Ninety-eight… little sheep bounced in her head, unfortunately all their little faces turned into Reed’s face. She mentally kicked each fluffy Reed faced sheep square in the butt.

  The house groaned and the walls shuddered in the wind. A scraping noise sounded from across the room. Her eyes flew open, her body jerking.

  The stack of pillows tumbled down again, leaving her exposed. Her heart hammered in her chest.

  “Just the wind,” she muttered. And she had almost believed it too, until she heard a muffled moan, and then something toppled onto the floor, shaking everything in the room.

  She clamped her hand over her mouth, to stop from screaming like a lunatic. Thunder rolled and another crack of lighting lit up the room once more. A shadowy figure became visible in the burst of light, the face ghostly white, something glinting in a skeletal looking hand.

  “Ahh,” she screamed. Kicking out from under the covers, she rolled down into “The Unsafe Zone” it didn’t matter though, not now. She jumped up and made a mad dash for the door, her bare feet barely touching the carpet. Fear tore through her body. She grabbed hold of the handle and yanked it open, flying out into the hall. Breathing hard, she ran. Halfway down the hall she realized her mistake. Oh no, no, no! She was running further into the house instead of down the stairs. She turned to run in the opposite direction. Lightning cracked again, illuminating the hall.

  A lone figure stood in the middle blocking her path. She grabbed a handle, jiggling it, but it was locked. Oh hell no!

  Her heart thumped in her ears. She ran to the next door, grasping the handle.

  Thump… drag…thump… drag… the gait jerking as her assailant closed in on her. Terror ripped through her. Frantically she jerked on the handle.

  “Open, Damnit!”

  The door opened and she flew into the room, slamming it closed. Something reached out in the darkness, grabbing hold of her. She screamed.

  If only, there was another way

  THE AGE OF CHIVALRYRAVENHURST

  DARIAS woke to a raging thunderstorm, covered in sweat. Lightning slashed outside his window, spearing to the ground like pitchforks thrown down from the skies. And the thunder rang sharp and loud, like blacksmiths using hammers and anvils to forge the steel of a thousand blades at once. He looked about his chamber his heart thudding in his chest.

  Ripping the heavy furs from his body, he stood and walked to the window looking down into the bailey below.

  It was empty.

  Heavy rain spattered onto the ground beating puddles, and tiny rivers in the dirt. Another vision of the violet-eyed beauty slammed into his mind causing needles of pain to stab behind his eyes.

  “GAH!” He held his head, bending from the pain. Gnashing his teeth together, he tried his best to remember what was eluding him. It was no use though. The harder he tried the more pain sliced through his mind, like sharpened blades. The cool stone of the wall scraped against his hand as he reached out to steady himself. Briefly he saw the girl again, sitting in this very room…on his bed…smiling at him. He fell to his knees the pain becoming unbearable. Only when he relinquished his hold on the image of the girl from his mind did the pain finally subside.

  “By the saints above… what is the matter with me?”

  The great hall smelled of burning wood and dampened rushes when Morrigan walked inside. Chilled from the rain, she made her way across the room and lifted one of the books she had placed in the corner earlier. She was in a foul mood. The boys who were supposed to be watching the captive had let her get away somehow, along with the other troublemaker. She wrinkled her face in displeasure, rubbing her head. At least the girl was gone from the keep and hopefully this time she would stay away.

  Mayhap one of the savages that lingered on the perimeter she paid coin to, would take care of her problem once and for all. Of course, she did not put much stock in those Neanderthals getting anything right either. So if they failed, then surely the hounds she just released would take care of her little problem. That is, if there was anything left to take care of. Time would tell.

  Although it was quite late, a few of the men were still awake, lingering at the trestle tables with pitchers of ale in front of them, laughing boisterously. She ignored them and walked over to a chair near the hearth, to dry out her wet clothing, and read for a bit.

  The rain still came down steadily and the sound was lulling. Her eyes drifted shut. Every few minutes though, one of the knights would burp loudly and she would jerk awake, their irritating laughter erupting once more, filling the room.

  “Simpletons,” she muttered under her breath, tucking her feet underneath her skirt and readjusting herself in the chair. Why men thought burping like a bunch of pigs was funny, was still beyond her. Men on a whole were idiots, to her at least, and not worth her time. There were a few however, that warranted a bit of her attention, she amended, watching Jayce walk across the hall, his strides purposeful. His gleaming blonde hair fell around his broad muscular shoulders. She lifted her hand to her lips, touching them with the tips of her fingers, remembering a bit too clearly the kiss he had given her earlier. It was a sweet kiss, meant in gratitude, s
he knew, but it did stir something deep down inside. It was a feeling she had nearly forgotten even existed for someone like her. It made her mouth lift at the sides, into a small but meaningful smile as she watched him converse lightheartedly with a few of the other knights. She sighed wistfully. What would it be like to lie with one such as him? Darias was a strong, massive, powerful man. He took what he wanted, showing no acts of tenderness or laughter. She did enjoy his company though, how could she not. Making love to Darias was comparable to a thunderstorm—volatile and a bit scary at times…she shivered, feeling the all too familiar ache to be in his arms once more. He had the ability to light a fire in her, one she had not felt in a very, very long time. It had only happened with one other…she squeezed her eyes shut trying to block out his traitorous visage. She refused to think about him, she had shut him out of her life a long time ago.

  Once she had banished the image, she reopened her eyes and her breath caught. Jayce was staring right at her, his black gaze, penetrating…unreadable. Then he gave her a small smile, one of his dimples making an appearance. Her heart stuttered and she smiled back. He turned back around. She exhaled and fanned her flaming cheeks.

  Jayce and Darias were opposites in every way, with the exception of their dark eyes and the attention they commanded when they walked into a room. Many a maid had tried to be with Darias, but he would not even give them a bit of his time. Not with Morrigan though. He called her to him again and again, she was special, or so she had thought until that little trollop showed up. Then he no longer wanted her around. Not to warm him on cold nights or to fulfill his desires…wants… his needs.

  “Bitch!” Morrigan mumbled angrily, and ran her hand through her wet hair, pushing it away from her heated face. Again, her eyes found his brothers fine form. Jayce always had a smile at the ready and as far as she knew, he never wanted for a bedmate. Actually, the woman around the keep usually fought for his administrations in the bedroom. He had such an easygoing attitude. Her eyes drifted down the rest of his body. If it was not for his light hair, she would think it was Darias standing with his back to her now, the way his tunic strained against his rippling muscles.