A Moonlit Knight_A Knights Through Time Romance

by Cynthia Luhrs

  A couple of dogs of indescribable breed slept on one side, while two of the tiger-striped cats lounged on the hearth. One was close enough to get his fur singed, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  Sore from spending the day cleaning, she groaned as she wiggled her toes.

  Richard took her foot in his hands, rubbing the arches, making her sigh in pleasure.

  “Rest. You have been working like the lowest servant when you should fill your days like a lady.”

  She petted a black dog who was snoring in his sleep. “I can’t embroider or sew. I’m useless at cooking. The gardens and orchards are covered in snow. What am I to do with my time? It feels good to accomplish something. To look back at the end of the day and see a chamber sparkling and clean. I’d rather be useful. Otherwise, I’d be lazy and get fat.”

  The awful man ran his fingernail along the bottom of her foot, making her giggle. He knew how ticklish she was. Chloe wiggled her foot, and he took the other in his hands and rubbed out the stiffness.

  “Now, if you had a library, then I’d be curled up in front of the fire reading all day, doing nothing else.”

  “You enjoy reading?”

  She sighed. “More than anything in the whole world.”

  It was late when he escorted her to her chamber. They lingered at the door until one of the guardsmen cleared his throat. The men and older boys had taken it upon themselves to make sure Chloe was properly chaperoned. She wanted to laugh when they told her but, seeing their looks, knew it would hurt their feelings, so she nodded and thanked them. Though at times like this, she wished they’d leave them alone. Richard would never kiss her with all this traffic in the corridor.

  “I will take you to the market on the morrow,” he said.

  She threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. “Thank you.”

  The guard cleared his throat again and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Richard rolled his eyes. “I bid you a good night, Chloe.”

  “Good night.” She shut the door and threw the bolt. Then she stood there with her ear to the door, listening. It was a while before she heard the sound of boots on stone.

  * * *

  Richard had left Garrick to guard Bainford. He had decided to take Chloe to the market. It had been more than two years since he last visited the village. He wore his hood pulled tight around his face.

  Chloe talked and talked, oblivious to his discomfort. She was happy, smiling and laughing, and promising the children she would bring them back sweets. Three lads and three girls ran ahead of them. They had helped Chloe the most the past se’nnight, so she had picked them to come to the market, with the promise of bringing whoever worked the hardest to the next market. She was shrewd.

  He was so busy watching her that at first he did not hear the words. ’Twas Chloe’s hand in his that alerted him to trouble. She was squeezing his hand so hard that he thought his finger would break.

  They were causing a commotion, the villagers whispering and crossing themselves as they passed.

  “Please. Ignore them.” She tugged on his hand, knowing he was ready to bolt.

  He scowled at the men who were suddenly busy looking at their feet. She was pulling him from vendor to vendor, and then she stopped. “I have things to do.”

  “Aye. I will escort you.”

  But she shook her head. “No. It is womanly stuff.”

  He did not let her know how her words wounded him. She did not want to be seen with the beast. He could not fault her.

  “As you wish. Find me when you are ready to leave,” he said stiffly.

  “Thank you.” She squeezed his hand and was soon having speech with an old woman selling trinkets. The children were darting to and fro, and Richard scowled. He touched the hood. Should he put it down? Let them see how terrible he was?

  But he did not. Unable to bear the gaze of the villagers, he did not speak to anyone until he came to a vendor selling books.

  “Good…d…day to you, m…my…lord,” the man stuttered.

  “I am in need of books. For a lady,” Richard said.

  The man showed him fine volumes. They were expensive, but Richard knew she would treasure them. He purchased three. A gift to beauty from the Beast of Bainford.

  Richard would not come to the village again. He would retreat to his castle to hide his visage from prying eyes.

  * * *

  Richard knew he had been ill-tempered during supper, but he could not help but remember the look she gave him when she wished to go off on her own at the market. To not be seen with him. He trudged out of his solar, grumbling to himself, only to stop and gape.

  Chloe was high above his head on a ladder using a long pole with a cloth on it, scrubbing his walls. Then she would dip the rag in a bucket and repeat the process while the lads called out encouragement.

  He did not dare shout at her and have her fall. Four lads were holding the ladder; the rest of the imps were busy scrubbing the walls and floors.

  When she scrambled down the ladder, he thought he would swoon, worried she would fall and break her neck.

  “Chloe. What are you about?”

  She blew a curl out of her face. “No offense, but it’s awfully dreary in here. I thought… That is, most homes of this size are painted inside. I thought we should paint all the rooms.” She smiled at him, her teeth so white and straight, her eyes sparkling, the color of fine whiskey.

  “Paint?” He looked around the hall and noted buckets of color. A few steps closer and he saw burgundy, gold, and emerald green. “Where pray tell, did you procure paint?”

  The side of her nose had a smudge of dirt, she was wearing his old tunic and hose, and he thought she looked most fetching with her hair tied back and dirt on her face.

  “I bought it from one of the merchants. It was nice of you to take me to the market yesterday.”

  “Lads, go to the kitchen. Merry made pie.” They were gone before he’d finished speaking. “Where did you get the gold to pay for all this?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Typical man, only listens to half of what I say.” She stirred the paint and smiled. “I told you, remember? It was my parents’. They gave it to me on the ship. When we were shipwrecked, I still had it.”

  Richard narrowed his eyes. Aye, she had told him the sad tale, but why did he not believe she was telling the truth?

  Unwilling to make her angry, he looked at the paint. “’Tis pretty.” He proffered his arm. “Come. I have a surprise for you.”

  She clapped her hands together. “I love surprises.”

  In his solar, he made her close her eyes and hold out her hands. Then he put the wrapped bundle in her outstretched palms.

  “Now open your eyes.”

  “Books. Oh, thank you!” Her eyes shone in the torchlight. She reverently opened each one. “Poems. Oh, a tale of knights and courtly love, and one about gods and goddesses.” She kissed him on the cheek. “These mean everything to me. Thank you so much.”

  “I am glad you are pleased.” He laid the books on a table. “Now come sit in front of the fire. You are cold and your hair is in knots. Margery?”

  A little girl came running. “My lord?”

  “Fetch me the comb for Mistress Chloe’s hair. She has been rolling around with the cows again.”

  The girl giggled and scampered out of the solar. She was soon back with the comb and ale.

  Richard gave Chloe a cup and pulled her onto his lap. He combed her hair in front of the fire, working out each knot, admiring the colors, wrapping each curl around his finger. Her hair was so soft and smelled of winter.

  He could find peace with her. Mayhap, in time, she would come to care for him?

  Chapter 23

  Things had been going so well. The hall and several other rooms were painted and cheery, she’d gotten the kids into a routine, and then there was Richard.

  They spent a great deal of time together. In the evenings, they’d sit by the fire; she would read, and he liked to brush her hair�
��so much so that she’d finally come to love her crazy curls instead of being annoyed by them.

  He’d even left his hood down the last time a merchant arrived, so he was making progress. Chloe had been in the stables, petting the horses and a couple of the cats, and when she came out, the sun was doing its best to shine.

  There was so much beauty around. As much as she missed Holden Beach and the sound of the ocean, she’d come to love it here. The land, sleeping for winter, waiting to be awoken by a kiss from spring, all stirred something deep within her soul.

  She’d made her way up to the battlements. The guards were used to her presence. As she looked out at the forest, she knew. “I could stay in a place like this.”

  The thought was banished just as quickly. She had to go back. With no idea if time passed the same here as it did in the future, Chloe wanted to be with her family. Her grandparents had turned eighty this year, and while people lived longer in her era, who knew how much time they had left?

  It was almost like she could feel the stones calling her, a sense of urgency to go home. Could she even go back? Granda said it was possible if the fates were favorable, but her great-aunts never returned. And Chloe didn’t know if it was because they’d found their one true love or because they couldn’t go back and had made a life here in the past.

  She walked for a while longer, deciding she needed to go check on the painting progress on the second floor. If one of the boys had painted the cat or dog again, she’d have their heads.

  Later that afternoon, she was on her way to the solar to read for a little while before supper when she heard voices. It was something about the tone of the voices that made her stop and listen.

  Chloe knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but it was Garrick and Richard, and they were being quiet enough that she knew something was up…so she crept closer and listened at the partially open door, hoping no one would catch her.

  “You are a lord now. Take Chloe to wife. Get her with child so you have heirs.” Garrick’s deep voice rumbled out the door. It was a bit soon, if you asked her, but no one did, so she leaned closer to hear what Richard would say to that idea.

  “She turns out my servants, thinks I cannot fight my own battles, distracts me until I do not know if I have put hose on, so I look to see. That bothersome wench has disrupted my peace. Rearranged my home, painted the bloody walls in cheerful colors. It was quiet before she came. I do not want her here. As soon as the messenger arrives, I will send her to Falconburg and be done with her for good.”

  She clapped a hand over her mouth to cover her gasp. A tear trickled down her face to tickle her chin. So that was how he really felt about her. Shaky, her stomach turning over and over, she fled to her chamber and threw herself on the bed.

  He didn’t want her here, had been humoring her all this time. Flirting with her for what? Practice for a woman he’d marry? Not some silly girl like her?

  The urge to leave was so strong that she’d packed half her belongings when movement at the window caught her eye. It was snowing again. Why had she thought snow was pretty? It made it impossible for her to travel. She’d never make it almost two hundred miles to Falconburg.

  What he’d said hurt more than she thought it would. When she was sixteen, she started dating, had even thought she’d been in love, but it had never felt like what she’d felt with Richard. He got her—didn’t think she was too quiet, or didn’t smile enough, or wasn’t pretty enough. She thought he’d accepted her for her. That, with his scars, he’d learned to look deeper than the outside. How wrong she’d been.

  There was a knock at the door, and one of the girls stuck her head in. “I’m to fetch ye for supper, mistress.”

  Chloe didn’t turn around. She didn’t want the girl to tell anyone she’d been crying. “Could you bring a tray to my room? It’s my womanly time, and I want to go to bed early.”

  “I will tell my lord and I’ll bring you some spiced wine with your supper.”

  “Thank you.” Chloe wiped her eyes, wishing she had her phone and could call Sara Beth to tell her what had happened. They discussed in minute detail everything their boyfriends said, looking for hidden meanings or hashing over an argument or something nice that was said. There wasn’t anyone here she could talk to about Richard.

  * * *

  “Where is Mistress Chloe?” Garrick asked Richard.

  He finished chewing. “’Tis her womanly time.” He shuddered.

  Garrick blanched. “We will leave her to rest.” Garrick drained the cup of ale and refilled it. “It has been more than three years, and your visage is still ugly. Then again, you were always ugly, but the scars are not so terrible nowadays.”

  “I will not be jeered at. Think you I don’t know what is said about me? The wicked Beast of Bainford?”

  Richard stabbed the knife into the table, glad Chloe didn’t see him do it and scold him for his lack of table manners.

  “Do you know parents tell their children I will come and take them away? That I will cook and eat them? And they say I will send the little ones to my master, the devil, if they do not obey their parents.” He scowled, sending a serving girl running back to the kitchens. “I will not see the disgust and revulsion on their faces. I am ruined. Leave me be.”

  Garrick rolled his eyes. “You are my oldest friend, but sometimes you are an arse. You cannot see what is in front of your face. You have a home, a title, a woman who loves you—”

  Richard shoved away from the table. He had lost his appetite and would not hear any more womanly prattle from Garrick.

  Chapter 24

  Chloe stayed up late thinking through her options. She knew she couldn’t make it to Falconburg. If she knew how to care for a horse, she would have left money for Richard in his solar and taken the animal at first light.

  Walking was the only option to get her back to the Rollright Stones. Assuming she could find them. She’d always taken for granted having navigation on her phone no matter where she was, but now? What if she went in a big circle?

  “Damn it.” She stood on her toes and looked out the window. Why did it have to snow so much? Garrick had told her it was snowing much more this year than the last. Remembering her time in the hut, she threw the knapsack across the chamber and leaned against the bedpost, thinking.

  The thought of the men she’d encountered made her swallow. There might be more like them. Or worse than them. It was almost twenty miles to the stones, a long distance to go alone in the dead of winter.

  A single kick sent the stool a few feet across the stone floor. Nope, she couldn’t leave. She was stuck here until a message arrived from Falconburg. And who knew how long that would take? Garrick told her messages came when they came.

  Tears threatened, but Chloe focused on being mad. She didn’t want to cry over a jerk like Richard. He didn’t want her here? Fine.

  She’d soak up medieval England and entertain herself. When the message came, surely Melinda would send someone to bring Chloe to Falconburg. Family was family; it didn’t matter her great-aunt didn’t know her. Chloe would explain everything once they met. Then she’d ask Melinda how to go home and hope with all her might that the stones would send her back.

  Over and over, she twisted her hair through her fingers, a habit left over from when she was little. The money she had could be used to pay one of the guardsmen to take her to the stones. On horseback, it would only take a couple of days.

  Why had she traveled through time in the first place? Was it to meet Melinda? If so, she couldn’t go back yet. Chloe believed this was a one-time deal. She wouldn’t get another chance to travel to the past and meet Melinda Merriweather. And if she’d been sent back in time for Richard, to help him know he was more than his face, well, look how that had worked out.

  That settled it. A trip to the stones was a no go. What was she going to do with herself in the meantime? It wasn’t like she had any useful skills. Chloe could cook a few basic things but was used to modern conveniences like
the microwave. Fishing? No way; baiting a hook was icky. It was winter, so no gardening. She couldn’t knit, crochet, or embroider to save her life. Sewing? She could sew with a machine, but not by hand. Too bad reading wasn’t an occupation. The only thing she’d been any good at was organizing the staff to clean while she worked alongside them.

  Bleary-eyed from tossing and turning, Chloe was grateful Merry had saved her a bowl of porridge. Once she’d checked on the kids to see how they were coming with the painting, she decided to take the whole day to mope over Richard. He’d made her believe he cared for her, but she knew the truth.

  He thought she was a pain in the butt and was only tolerating her until he could send her away. Guess she was flirting practice for when he found a more mature woman. What a jerk.

  * * *

  “A good morrow to you.”

  Richard stopped Chloe as she was making her way to the stables. Mayhap she hadn’t heard him?

  “Are you feeling better? You were missed at supper these past nights.”

  The blasted woman ignored him.

  Garrick chuckled, and Richard scowled.

  “Mistress Chloe. Have you come to your senses and decided you much prefer me to Richard?” Garrick said.

  Richard would pay him back with his fists.

  She stopped. “The stench of that man is more than I can bear.” Then she stomped away as Richard discreetly sniffed his person. He did not smell.

  Garrick roared with laughter. “What did you do to vex her so?”

  “I do not know. It has been three days and she will not speak to me.” Richard leaned against the wall, watching her as she stopped and talked to his people, a smile for all. All except him. “Women are shrewish creatures.” Richard did not want to tell Garrick he feared she had come to her senses and found him as repulsive as the villagers.