A Moonlit Knight_A Knights Through Time Romance

by Cynthia Luhrs

  Richard cursed as he finished going over the accounts with his steward. How would he know what he had done if the blasted woman wouldn’t speak to him?

  Garrick leaned against the wall by the hearth, one booted foot crossed over the other, looking happy. Richard wanted to plow his fist into the man’s face.

  “Are you going to stand there all eve and smirk at me?”

  “I know why Chloe is vexed.”

  Richard pushed back from the desk. “Do you wish to tell me, or shall I ask the witch in the village?”

  His friend snorted. “Not likely you would venture to the village to seek her out.” Then he ran his hands through his hair, and the look on his face made Richard sit in the chair, his stomach roiling.

  “Tell me, man.”

  “She heard.”

  “Heard?” Richard was in no mood. “Spit it out, ye bloody whoreson.”

  “Mistress Chloe heard you say you wished her gone.”

  Richard glared, tapping his fingers on his knee. “Do not jest.”

  “I would not. Mistress Chloe is a fine woman. You would be favored by the fates to have such a lady.”

  “Think you I do not know?” Richard shook his head. “I never said such about her. She is the best of me.”

  “Aye, you did,” Garrick said cheerfully. “In this very room. You said she is a distraction, a bothersome wench.” Garrick drained the cup of ale and smacked his lips. “You said you would be rid of her. Send her to Falconburg.” Then he frowned. “You are a dolt.”

  “Bloody hell. I did not mean any of it.” Richard thought he would be ill. The eels he’d eaten at supper were swimming in his belly. When Garrick had jested, said Richard should marry Chloe, Richard could not imagine she would have him, so he pushed the thought away, not meaning for her to listen. Why was she listening at doors, anyway? Infuriating, lovely woman.

  “You know when my eye pains me, I am—”

  “An arse. A bloody witless dolt,” Garrick finished. Then he turned serious. “Before you were injured, you would not have seen her.”

  “I would have.”

  “Nay, Richard. Hers is a quiet beauty. You would not.”

  Knowing Garrick was right, Richard snorted and pushed up from the chair. Had the fates caused him grievous harm so he would find Chloe? Nay, he was being daft.

  “Where are you going?”

  Richard clapped Garrick on the shoulder. “To beg for her forgiveness. Again.”

  Chapter 25

  By the forcefulness of the knock at her door, Chloe knew it could only be one man—so naturally, she ignored him. The pounding stopped and started again. It went on that way for several minutes.

  “Chloe. Open this door or I will break it down.”

  His tone had her scurrying. She knew he’d do it, and she did not want to be without a door.

  She flung it open as best she could, given how heavy the darn thing was. “What do you want?”

  “Will you let me in?”

  She scowled at him. “No. Say what you came to say and then leave me alone.”

  He shifted from foot to foot. “Garrick said one of the kitchen maids told him you had heard me say that which I should not have said.”

  “Isn’t that just great. Does the whole damn castle know?” She stamped her foot, so angry that she wanted to throw something or scream—or both.

  “Nay. I did not mean what I said. My eye ached something powerful, and I thought…I thought you could not care for a man as ugly as I.”

  She opened the door wide enough to see if anyone else was in the corridor. Satisfied they were alone, she pursed her lips.

  “When will you see your scars do not matter to me? You stomp and grumble, but deep down you’re a good person. So why can’t you get over it?” She was tired of him using his injury and the pain as an excuse to be a brat.

  They both stood there, looking at each other, the silence stretching out. He broke it first. “Let me in so I may apologize for being an arse.”

  “No, I don’t think so.” She stepped back into the room, her hand on the door. “I wish to read my book. Maybe I will talk to you tomorrow and maybe I won’t.”

  Then she shut the door in his face. Why did relationships have to be so hard?

  Leaning against the door, listening to him breathe, Chloe heard him mutter, “Vexing woman. Doesn’t she know how much I need her?” And then the sound of boots in the corridor as he walked away.

  While Chloe got ready for bed, she thought about Richard. He was the first guy she’d really fallen in love with. The boyfriends she’d had the past few years were fine; they just didn’t make her feel everything so intensely.

  Last year she’d fallen hard for Noah, thought he was the one, gave him her heart. But he’d stomped all over it after she caught him lying about drinking. She wasn’t against having a sip or two while she was underage, but Noah had a problem. He drank until he passed out on the weekends, thanks to parents who were too busy with their own lives to pay much attention to him.

  When she’d confronted him, he actually denied it, tried to turn it back on her. Said she was uptight and boring, that everyone drank. It was the weekend and he wanted to have fun. Any excuse to avoid taking responsibility for his actions.

  After a huge fight, he’d told her he’d quit drinking. For a few weeks she’d thought they would be okay, and then on a Saturday, when she was supposed to be helping Sara Beth with a project, she’d gone over to his house to surprise him and found him drunk by the pool. He sat there and lied about drinking, right to her face, even when she’d caught him. So she’d broken up with him. It had taken her six months to get over him and longer to trust again. But she knew now that it hadn’t been love; it had been intense infatuation, that was all.

  After that, none of the guys she’d dated lived up to the stories her granda told her. Maybe it was because Richard was five years older than them. More mature. When she was with him, she felt safe. This was a guy who cared about others, not the latest baseball scores or playing video games or cars. Though he was a bit obsessed with his horses.

  And he fought with real swords. No matter how many times she sat on the cold stone bench, she’d never grow tired of watching him in the lists, muscles bunching and shifting under his tunic and hose. He was amazing, and that was saying something, as she’d seen some really good swordsmen in the time she’d been here. The first clang of steel on steel always made her jump, much to Richard and Garrick’s amusement.

  This relationship? If things fell apart, Chloe knew not only would it break her heart, but she was afraid she’d be ruined for all other guys.

  With the bed curtains closed, the room was dark, though she could see a sliver of the banked fire in the hearth. All of a sudden, she sat up in bed.

  “Spaghetti on toast.” It was December. She’d missed Thanksgiving. Her second favorite holiday after Christmas. It was a big deal back home, with tons of food and the whole day together. Her granda and Arthur argued about football while Chloe, her mom, and Gram listened to music, seeing who could find the silliest song and then singing it at the top of their lungs.

  They’d get out the china and silver and eat together. Inside if it was cold and outside if it was warm enough. She loved eating outside at her gram’s. Hearing the waves crash against the shore. The colors of the water shifting with the tides.

  The first holiday without her family.

  Wait. Chloe rubbed her hands together. She had the perfect idea.

  Chapter 26

  “What do you say, can we have the feast?” Chloe had been going a hundred miles a minute since she’d woken up.

  “Aye, mistress. The figs are costly…” Merry looked uncertain.

  “Do not worry. I will buy Richard more if he makes a fuss.”

  Merry smiled and sent the servants to begin preparations for the first Thanksgiving at Bainford.

  Too bad they couldn’t have mashed potatoes or the to-die-for cranberry relish Chloe’s mom made, but t
he rest of her favorites? They would come close. Instead of turkey, there would be chickens, pheasant, geese, swans, and…pigeons. Yuck.

  “Would any minstrels come to play music?” she asked.

  “Music?” Richard gingerly made his way into the kitchens. His leg must be bothering him again.

  “For the feast tonight. It’s been raining for days and I thought we could use an evening of feasting and merrymaking.”

  He touched her shoulder, his eyes lingering on her face. “Have you forgiven me?”

  Chloe blew out a breath. “I’m still a little angry, but life’s too short to go around mad all the time. So yes, you’re forgiven.”

  He stood close enough that she could see his pulse flutter in the hollow of his neck. “I will endeavor not to vex you.” He smiled at her, the muted blue tunic and hose making his hair even prettier.

  She was wearing her gray dress with the apron over it so the dress wouldn’t get dirty while she helped prepare for tonight.

  “You will try, but I know you’ll tick me off again,” she said. “I really wanted music tonight if possible.”

  For a moment he looked sad, then he took hold of one of the small boys passing through the kitchens. “Tristan, come here, lad.”

  The boy had black hair and huge brown eyes, he looked to be about eight years old. “My lord?”

  “Mistress Chloe would like music tonight at supper. We will have a feast. Would you and your brother sing?”

  The little boy’s face lit up. “Aye. We sang in the church until we had to leave.” And he burst into song, mesmerizing the entire kitchen, who stopped what they were doing to listen to the voice of the little angel.

  “That was beautiful,” Chloe said when he’d finished. The boy blushed and ran out of the kitchens.

  She smiled at Richard. “Thank you.” Then she gave him a little push. “Now off with you. I have lots to do today.”

  He pretended to pout but left her to it.

  “Will you show me how to make the figs?” Merry stood at the table watching Chloe.

  “Of course. My favorite is cranberry relish, but no cranberries here, so we’ll have a fig chutney instead. It’s good with meat.”

  She spent the day bustling about, checking to make sure the hall was spotless for the feast, and trying to stay out of Merry’s way.

  Chloe had shown her the way she made apple pie after finding some wrinkled apples in the cellar. They had cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger, though she was careful not to use any more than necessary.

  They were also having carrots and winter squash. Stag and fish for those who might not want fowl. And, of course, cheese, bread, butter, and jam. She had added spices and a bit of honey to the carrots, and they’d even made stuffing. Not exactly like home, but close enough.

  If Merry and the girls hadn’t kept up a stream of constant chatter, Chloe would have cried at how much she missed her family. Though she was finally accepting the inhabitants of Bainford as her new family.

  There was enough time for her to take a bath and dress for supper. She wanted to look nice for Richard tonight. The rain had tapered off, so she took the opportunity to go for a walk. She’d come to like the cold, brisk air—it woke her up after being in the warm kitchens all day.

  It was foggy, the light mist and snow on the ground turning the landscape into a surreal scene. For a minute she had serious déjà vu, a fragment of memory from when she’d woken and thought she was lost in the fog. But then she’d fallen back to sleep. Though when she woke, she was in the past. Was it the same for Melinda and her sisters? Had they too been lost in the fog?

  “Ouch.”

  “Who’s there?” Chloe bent down to find two boys and a girl huddled by the gate, half frozen. There was no way the guard on the wall could have seen them through the fog. “Goodness. Why didn’t you call out to the guards?”

  “We did,” one of the boys said, his teeth chattering.

  The girl’s face was pale. “They didn’t hear us.”

  “Come along.” Chloe helped them up and led them through the gates. “Where did you come from?”

  They told her the tale, how their parents had died from a sickness and their uncle couldn’t afford to feed them. How they’d walked from the north a long time until they heard the beast would take them.

  She stopped and bent down to look each of them in the eye. “Lord Bainford isn’t a beast, though you might think he is if you don’t obey the rules.”

  They nodded as she led them into the kitchens. Their eyes were round as they took in the plethora of food.

  “You are muddy and dirty.” Chloe pointed to the corner of the room. “Bathe first and then you can eat.”

  She wasn’t sure they were going to do it—they looked horrified by the idea of bathing in the winter—but they smelled, and she wanted everything to be nice tonight.

  To drive the point home, she loaded up three wooden trenchers with food left over from dinner earlier in the day and placed them on the table as the children practically drooled.

  “Me first. I’ll wash,” said one of the boys.

  Chloe ran into Richard when she left the kitchens.

  “More orphans?” He looked them over as they scrambled to fill the bucket with hot water.

  “You’re gathering quite the collection.”

  He shrugged. “They have nowhere to go. I would have faced the devil himself for a bed and food when I was a wee lad.”

  “You’re a good man.”

  “Nay. I am not, and you would be wise to remember it.” He growled at her. Then he took her hands in his, the calluses tickling her fingers. “Though I daresay you have tamed the beast, my lady.”

  Chapter 27

  Richard strode through the hall to tell Chloe the news. She was not in his solar or the kitchens.

  “Lad, where is Mistress Chloe?”

  “She is in her chamber, my lord.”

  He patted the boy on the back and took the steps to the second floor, so eager to tell her the news that he did not knock.

  “One of the Irishmen plays the lute. He will play tonight and the lads will sing. ’Twill be—”

  Richard did not remember what he was saying. She had removed her stocking, her leg was bare, and as he watched, she took a spoon, dipped it in a bowl—the smell of beeswax filled the chamber—then spread it on her calf, applied a strip of cloth, took a deep breath, and ripped it off.

  She let out a shriek. He crossed the room in two strides.

  “What the bloody hell are you about? Have you injured yourself?” He touched the red spot on her calf. “’Tis smooth as a newborn babe.” He stroked the skin.

  “Um…well…I was removing the hair from my leg.” Her hair was pulled up. He could see the colors of the leaves in autumn in each curl.

  He touched her leg again, marveling at how smooth it was. “Why?”

  Her eyes reminded him of fine whiskey. Garrick was right: she was beautiful, and he would not have noticed her before, but she had his complete attention now.

  Pink crept up her neck and cheeks. “Where I come from, all the women remove the hair from their legs and underarms.”

  His gaze went to her arms. “Does it pain ye?”

  “Yep.” She showed him the bowl. “Beeswax and a bit of sugar. But don’t worry, I’ll buy more.”

  “Nay, you shall have whatever you require.”

  “Once the wax is melted, you put it on your skin, press the cloth to the wax, and then rip it off.”

  He winced.

  “I know, right?” She grinned. “It stings for a few minutes, but the pain is worth it.”

  “If you say ’tis so.” He sniffed the bowl. The same scent was on her; the light from the candles and fire turned her skin gold.

  “I wanted to look pretty for the feast tonight.”

  Richard reached out and touched her skin, running his hand up her leg, marveling at the softness. “You are beautiful.”

  She leaned in, and he could see the f
lecks of gold in her eyes, smell the wax on her skin. Richard pulled her close.

  “My lord, the lads are fighting in the hall.” One of the servants leaned against the doorway, breathing heavily.

  With a sigh, Richard pulled back. “Aye, I am coming.” Though he wanted nothing more than to haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

  “I look forward to dancing with you after supper.”

  When he turned and looked back, she was staring into the fire, her fingers to her lips. How he envied her fingers.

  * * *

  Chloe soaked in the wooden tub, grateful it was padded with fabric so she wouldn’t get a splinter. It was kind of like being in a rustic hot tub without the bubbles.

  She wanted to scream. At first she was mortified he had seen her waxing her legs, but then…he thought she was beautiful.

  When he touched her skin, she went weak in the knees. Back home, he would have kissed her at the end of their first date. Here? The anticipation, the build-up, made every moment she was with him full of tension. He’d almost kissed her a few times, they were always interrupted.

  It was enough to make her want to pull him into the hidden room and kiss him until she got it out of her system. This was what courting or wooing was all about.

  Her granda had told her how a single glance or touch could mean so much. She’d thought he was crazy, until she experienced it herself. Found excuses to run into Richard. To brush her fingers against his. She sighed.

  The room smelled like lavender. She’d bought the horribly expensive soap at the market, along with a mirror and cloth for a new tunic and hose for him for Christmas.

  This would be the first Christmas she wouldn’t be with family. Chloe knew growing up meant not always seeing family for every holiday, but she didn’t think it would happen so soon.

  What she wouldn’t give to see her granda and Richard together.

  Two of the girls helped her wash her hair and then dry off. Wrapped in a robe in front of the fire, Maron brushed her hair until the curls were dry and crackled with electricity.