To Follow My Heart (The Knights of Berwyck, A Quest Through Time Novel Book 3)

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To Follow My Heart (The Knights of Berwyck, A Quest Through Time Novel Book 3) Page 3

by Sherry Ewing


  “Rolf! ’Tis about time you appeared afore me. Have you perchance been waiting your turn to give me a much needed lesson on life?” Fletcher exclaimed happily. He went to clap his hand upon the knight’s shoulder only for his arm to go completely through his long lost friend. His brief moment of happiness was quickly gone.

  “I am still but a ghost, Fletcher. I am afraid nothing will ever change the fact I am now dead,” Rolf declared solemnly.

  A heavy sigh escaped him. “You must wish to convey something of much import to show yourself so fully to me and not just as a transparent distortion of your old self. I have heard such a feat takes much out of a ghost. Was I misinformed?”

  “Nay, you were not misled. I will pay dearly for appearing to you in this form. ’Twill take me well over a fortnight to recover,” Rolf answered with a slight grin. “I believe ’twill be worth it, so again, I will make the sacrifice on another’s behalf.”

  “You have done your duty, Rolf. Why not rest in peace with God’s angels above? You do not need to continue standing guard at Berwyck’s gates.”

  “’Twas my choice, and one I willingly made, so I could forever look over those I have come to care for.”

  “And yet we, too, shall all be gone someday,” Fletcher murmured quietly.

  “Aye, I had not thought that far ahead when I declared my desires to remain in such an irregular state.”

  “And what about the Lady Lynet? Have you shown yourself to her?

  “Another condition of my existence. I can see she is well, but she will never see me. ’Tis for the best. Besides, she is happy with Ian. ’Twas all I ever wanted for her in the first place, even though I had hoped she could fall in love with me,” Rolf declared with a sincerity shining in his eyes. “You should heed my words and take a lesson from one who has had his heart broken by a woman. Do not love another man’s wife. It only causes heartbreak.”

  “You are not the first to impart such a life lesson to me, but come…although I have missed your company, you must be here for a reason. You might as well tell me your message and get it over with.” Fletcher leaned his elbow on the wall and waited, although in reality, of late, he had had enough of everyone’s council on how he should and should not feel about Lady Katherine.

  “There is another who will travel great distances to reach Berwyck. If I were you, I would get myself down to the strand and wait by the rocks there, near the shore,” Rolf said as he pointed a far distance down the beach.

  Fletcher laughed. “We would see anyone coming from miles away, and yet I see no clouds of dust marking a rider’s passage to the castle.”

  Rolf smirked. “Who said she would arrive by the normal methods of travel?”

  “Are you implying─?”

  Rolf began to fade from sight, but his voice, instead of being heard out loud, now came inside Fletcher’s head. “Be kind to her Fletcher. She will be scared and confused on her whereabouts. I trust you will comport yourself as any knight would when faced with such a miracle of fate.”

  Afore Fletcher could form a reply, Rolf was gone, as if he had never been there at all. His gaze flew to the rocks Rolf had mentioned, but, try as he might, he could not see any woman appearing upon the sand. A none-too-gentle and unseen nudge upon his shoulder caused him to stumble forward, and he knew Rolf was attempting to push him into action.

  “Fine! I am going, but I see not how I may give aid to a woman who is obviously not on the beach,” Fletcher bellowed, causing the knights standing guard to look in his direction.

  “Go!” The words were shouted inside his head, causing Fletcher to move.

  “Can you not see I am on my way, you damn ornery ghost?” Fletcher grumbled beneath his breath, and Rolf’s laughter echoed inside his head.

  Fletcher made his way back down several stories of stairs and into the great hall. Dristan and Amiria were already seated at the raised dais, breaking their fast. His name was called by several knights for him to join them, but he waved them off. As he went to pass the last table laden with food, he tore off a chunk of bread, along with some cheese, and quickly wrapped it in cloth to take with him.

  Upon entering the stable, his war horse, Fury, began stomping his hooves, demanding his freedom. Black as the skies at midnight, this steed had been with him through battles that should have cost Fletcher his life. On more than one occasion, Fletcher swore Fury had put himself in front of many a sword that should have slain them both. He was a faithful as any hound he had ever owned.

  He made quick work of saddling his horse, knowing speed was of the essence, or so Rolf had implied. Throwing his red cape around his shoulders, he then put his foot into the stirrup to mount. Getting himself through the village and down to the beach would take no time at all. What he would find there was anyone’s guess, but his curiosity at Rolf’s words left him with an urgency he had not looked forward to in many a year. ’Twas the first time in a long while he would be pleased to greet a new day.

  Chapter 5

  Jenna finally came to a stop on the beach and wiggled her toes in the wet sand. She wasn’t sure if the dull ache in her empty heart was better or worse, but she did feel refreshed. What had caused her to throw that ring into the ocean, she couldn’t say, but such an action seemed the right thing to do…at least at the time. It was almost as if she had thrown away her past to make way for a brand new future. Whatever that future would now hold, was anyone’s guess.

  Kneeling down, Jenna began brushing her fingers through the sand beneath her feet until she stood to gaze at the sweeping curves of Dylan’s name. It didn’t take long before the waves crashed onto the shore to wash away any traces of her etchings. If only the memory of him could be wrenched from her heart just as easily. Such a tribute, if that’s what this could be called, was her way to say goodbye. To some, it may have seemed a silly way to end a relationship. She supposed it was the romantic in her. This wasn’t the first time she had performed this ritual, but she prayed someday it would be her last.

  She turned around with the ocean now on her left only to realize she had walked farther down the beach than she intended. If she wanted to reach her car before the sun went down and she was plunged into darkness with no flashlight, she would have to hurry back. It wasn’t as though she didn’t feel she could protect herself, but living in the city always caused one to be on the lookout. Not everyone was kind by nature, and it was a violent world out there. No sense in taking chances.

  Her side started to vibrate when her cellphone rang in her purse, and she speedily unzipped it, reaching down into its depths to answer the call. Her mother was checking in on her again.

  “Hi mom. Yes…I’m at the beach. Yes…I’m heading home. He did what?” Jenna listened as her mother filled her in on her conversation with Dylan. Frustration began to once more consume her. “Well, did he bother tell you he had his new girlfriend on his arm? Yea…I didn’t think so. Really, mom…it’s over between us, and I’d hardly want someone back who couldn’t remain faithful, now would I? No…I’ll be okay and be home in a while. There’s no need to drive all the way into the city to be with me. I’m a big girl…I’m twenty-four, for goodness sake. I can handle another breakup. I’ve survived them before, and I can certainly survive this one.” There was another round of concern in her mother’s tone before Jenna rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know you can’t help yourself, and I’ll always be your baby girl. I love you, too, and will talk to you tomorrow. Go relax with a glass of wine and stop worrying. Bye mom.”

  Jenna ended the call only to wonder how many more times her mother would call her this evening to check on her. Probably at least twice more. She meant well, but all Jenna wanted to do for the rest of the evening was go home, put on fuzzy slippers, consume a carton of ice cream, and dive into a romance novel. At least there, between the pages of a good book, she could get lost and believe in happily ever after. Lord knows her life was a far cry from one.

  As she resumed her walk, she pondered the glass monstrosity of th
e Cliff House on the far hill. It was completely unsightly, unless you liked the modern outward look of the place. Jenna had always favored the old classical structure of bygone days. A chateau rising majestically in the distance as horse drawn carriages leisurely traveled down the dirt road, instead of cars whipping by on the pavement at a frenzied pace to get wherever their passengers were going. Everyone always seemed in a hurry and appeared to never stop and enjoy the little things in life.

  Where had the time period gone where people treated one another with respect and courtesy? She supposed they were still out there, in the modern sense of the word. But Jenna wanted those old world ways of courtly knights and ladies, or even the Victorian and Regency eras, when everything appeared simple and yet elegant at the same time.

  A slight laugh erupted with thoughts of her youth and her always telling herself and anyone who would care to listen that she was born, not only on the wrong continent, but in the wrong century. She had always wanted to live in a castle and be the lady of the keep. Knowing the way her life had been going so far, instead of being the lady, she would have been the serf cleaning the garderobe or the servant removing and cleaning the chamber pot. A life as a servant certainly wouldn’t have been anything of merit to jump up and down about―that was for sure.

  But oh, to be a lady and have a knight treat her with all the chivalry that was ingrained into their very way of life would have surely been this side of heaven. A smile lit Jenna’s face as she envisioned herself dressed in a full length gown of medieval times. A knight would give her a formal bow and ask her permission to dance while candles glowed in a hall with minstrels playing in a corner. The picture appeared so real she could almost feel the sting in her eyes from the smoke of the lit torches hanging from sconces on the castle walls.

  Nearly beneath the Cliff House on a part of the beach isolated in its shadow and generally unreachable, except in the summer months, Jenna came back from her musing, only to blink in shock at the distortion directly in front of her. The disturbance in the air was almost akin to the ripples one found in a lake or pond after a stone had been cast into its smooth waters. She reached out to touch it, but before she knew what was happening, some unseen force pushed her forward, even while at the same time she became surrounded by an icy fog. The wind in her face screeched at a high pitch in her ears in the same tone as a ghoulish banshee on Halloween. Her body seemed as if it were being pulled, stretched, and sucked through a tight tube, much like a dust mote stuck within a vacuum cleaner. She was tossed and turned around and around as her own screams echoed all about her.

  Unsure what was happening, she cried out, hoping for someone to come and help her. No one answered her call, yet she continued to yell, all the same. Had she somehow fallen into the ocean, and was she being pulled out with the tide? No…that couldn’t be right, since she didn’t have the feeling of water filling her lungs. Time seemed to have no meaning, and she had no idea how long she had been in this state of…falling into nothingness and unbeing.

  And then, everything stopped its frantic pace, abruptly, as though she were in a car that had come to a sudden halt at a red light causing her to lurch forward in her seat. Jenna was thrust headfirst to face-plant into the beach while her purse flew through the air when she hit the ground. She coughed, spitting out copious granules of sand. Wiping her mouth, she tasted a bit of blood from her cut lip and raised her hand to shield her face from the glaring brightness around her. Sunlight? She closed her eyes and reopened them, not believing what she was seeing, for the sun was as bright as in the height of a new day. But how could that be, she wondered? It was almost evening, with darkness about to settle down to caress the earth.

  As if she hadn’t been mistreated enough, nature decided to continue its torment of her when a rogue wave came up from behind, knocking her into the frigid water. She came up sputtering, completely drenched, and began crawling her way up the beach to catch her breath.

  When she was at last able to manage it, Jenna stood, but she did so on wavering legs. She attempted to get her bearings. Her hands shook uncontrollably. Some things hadn’t changed. Her heels were still held by the straps in her fingers. She was still on the beach…the ocean was on her left. Her purse was lying on the ground, and she bent to pick it up to place it on her shoulder. She began to wonder if she had somehow passed out when she lifted her head in the direction of the Cliff House.

  What the hell? Where is it, and why is a friggin’ castle sitting in its place? Dammit! This isn’t even San Francisco. She felt herself begin to panic, because the terrain was nowhere close to what she was used to. Her pulse quickened, and she swore her heart was about to burst from her chest.

  “My lady, keep calm.”

  The sudden vibration of sound caused her to let out a shriek. Her lips quivered in fright. She brought her hand to her mouth to stifle yet another scream that automatically burst from her mouth. She was so disoriented it took several moments of trying to adjust her vision before the deep baritone of a man’s voice actually began to register in her head.

  Then, she saw him, leaning casually up against a bolder of considerable size with his arms folded against his chest. A horse stood behind him with no tether of any kind to keep him from returning to a barn. The steed just waited for the stranger to come and fetch it, that is, if that was what you did with a horse besides go for a ride. The beast shook its black mane, nostrils flaring as though it were angry.

  Jenna’s hand moved down to her throat, her eyes wide, as she gaped at the man. Everything about his appearance screamed dark, mysterious, and even a little dangerous. She should be wary of him. Thick black hair hung in soft waves down to broad shoulders. A muscular chest narrowed down to lean hips, and his dark shirt only accented the ruggedness of his body as it clung to him in the blowing wind. She swore she saw a sword hanging from the belt at his waist and could only imagine what kind of a man would keep a weapon of that kind on his person. He was clothed completely in black with the exception of the dark red cloak billowing out behind him, whipped by the ocean breeze. Was it her imagination, or did its color remind her of the same shade as blood?

  Good God Almighty! How far could she run before he would catch her? Surely, from the look of him, he had something sinister in mind. Panic set in, and she dug inside her purse to pull out a container of mace. Trying her best to appear in control of the situation, she extended her arm. “Stay away from me,” she yelled. “I’m not afraid to use this and call the cops.”

  He pushed off the rock with a smirk upon his face, as if he knew some inside joke of which she wouldn’t be allowed to know the punch line. The closer he came, the farther she backed up until the waves of the ocean splashed up to her thighs. The coldness of the water gave her another shock, as if she hadn’t already had enough in the last few minutes to last her a life time.

  “Come out of the water, mademoiselle, for surely one dunking is enough for one day.” He held out his hand. “You shall catch a chill, and we are not in need of another ghostly apparition giving us advice, no matter how he may feel ’tis needed to guide us.”

  “Sweet Jesus, I’m dead,” Jenna whispered in fright. Trying to determine which direction she should run so she could get away from this lunatic, her gaze darted back and forth.

  “You are most certainly not dead, my lady. And, I assure you, I mean you no harm.”

  Again, he extended his hand for her to take, but she had no plans to go anywhere with this handsome stranger towering over her. Handsome? Where did that thought come from?

  “Sorry, pal. I don’t know you, so that’s the end of any conversation I’m going to have with you.” Thrusting out her arm, she pushed the button, and the spray of mace hit its mark as it sailed into his face and eyes. Satisfied with her street smart ways, she skirted around him as he yelled in pain.

  “God’s wounds! What witchery have you cast upon me that spills forth from your fingertips like the fires from hell!” the man cried out as he tried to wipe the concoct
ion from his eyes. Jenna knew his vision would be blurry, at best. He stumbled towards her with arms outstretched as he reached for her.

  “Get the hell away from me. Why won’t you leave me alone?” She yelled again and began running up the slight rise towards his horse. The soft, deep sand slowed her frantic flight for freedom and would be her downfall when she tripped on a rock hidden from her view beneath the sand under her bare feet.

  For the second time that day, Jenna lost her balance and fell forward, only to have her head slam on the very same boulder where the devil’s own minion had taken up his stance when she had landed in this strange place. The world started spinning once more as unconsciousness began to overtake her. The last thing she remembered was when the gorgeous man bent over her. His eyes were an incredible shade, like the color of a heady amber whiskey, and he had the unmistakable look of real concern etched upon his stunning face.

  Chapter 6

  Fletcher watched through watery eyes as the woman’s own rolled back inside her head. Merde! What was he to do now? His fingers gently probed her skull only to feel the start of a bump forming just beneath the surface of her hairline. If he were to guess, afore too long, ’twould be the size of a goose egg. He laid her head back carefully on the soft sand. The telltale signs of blood dripped from his gloved fingers.

  Inwardly cursing, he quickly went to his saddle and reached inside the bag he had tied to the pommel. He grabbed at the cloth he had used to hold his food and shook the crumbs from the linen. After he made fast work of tearing it into strips, he went to the task to form some kind of a makeshift bandage with which to stop the bleeding. From the look of her wound, he knew he would need to get her to the castle posthaste. This woman was in need of the keep’s healer. Kenna would see to the lady’s needs better than he could.

 

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