Medieval times. Not a good time to be a woman. The fire blazing, she hadn’t noticed Christian sitting close to her, watching.
“Why are you acting like nothing’s wrong?”
“You suffered a fright and will calm once you are dry. In the morning, we will continue on.”
But he acted like someone had taken his last slice of pizza and then it all made sense.
“It’s really not your fault.”
He looked despondent. “’Tis my fault. I’ve never been taken unaware. I have failed in my knightly duties. But do not be distressed. I will find them. ’Twas my favorite horse and my best sword.”
While he went on about what he would do to the men when he found them, she needed to come up with a plan. To survive here, Ashley had to accept she was truly in the past. There was a time during the first year after she’d graduated from college that she thought if you took her and dropped her off at her old college dorm, she’d go to her room, speak to her roommate, and head off to class as if no time at all had passed. So while she knew she was addicted to knowing what time it was, she also always had the ability to quickly adapt to her surroundings. To fit in. No matter if it was a boys’ club or other place she was unwelcome, she knew how to blend.
When she traveled, she was quiet, taking everything in until she felt comfortable. Immediately going into local shops and purchasing something to wear to look like a local. No ugly American abroad for her. Ashley straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. She could do this.
“Christian. Where did you say we’re going?”
“Winterforth. Four days’ ride to London. I will see you where you needs be.”
Where she needed to be? Not where. When. Though how did she get back to her own time when she didn’t have a clue how she’d traveled through time in the first place?
Ashley wanted to try clicking her heels together or saying abracadabra or some other incantation, but she felt silly, and he would think she was crazy. The last thing she wanted was to end up in an asylum or locked away in a convent. It was a wonder he hadn’t thought she was crazy already by the way she’d been acting.
Think, Ashley. From the moment she arrived, she went over everything she’d said and made a note to be much more careful. To listen and learn. Blend until she could figure out a way to go home.
And suddenly Ben, and the merger, her promotion, and even Mitch seemed very far away. Her priorities shifted. All she cared about now was going home. New York was full of jobs. Let Mitch have the promotion. She was smart. Another firm would be lucky to have her.
Chapter Eleven
Christian woke, warm and content, the ever-present loneliness gone. The smell of roses made him smile as Ashley wound his hair around her finger.
“Oh, good morning.” Then her eyes went to her hand and she turned pink. “Sorry, habit.”
“We should not tarry. It will snow soon.”
She looked to the sky, frowning. “How can you tell?”
“Can you not smell the snow in the air?”
“Nope.” She sniffed. When she stood, she hopped up and down. “What? It wakes me and helps warm me up.”
“Take care of your womanly needs and then we shall depart.”
“I’ll be fast.” Her stomach rumbled but she did not complain, merely walked through the trees to the water.
All morning they walked, and Ashley did not complain once, Christian was proud of her for keeping pace and not bellowing at him. He liked being close to her, hearing her voice.
“You said you did not like to be outside.”
She tripped over a limb, and he led her to a flat rock, where he pulled off her boot.
“What are you doing?”
“You are cold. I am warming your toes. Er…”
“Socks.” She wiggled her toes. “At…home, I wear a lot of dark colors, so on my feet…where no one sees, I like bright colors.”
He had seen such socks before. Lucy had been making them. After running out of people to wear her scarves and hats, she had turned to making socks.
“You asked about being outside. I hate the outdoors, but I live in a large city and am used to walking long distances, though I much prefer to take…a carriage when possible.”
Christian thought Ashley might tell him about cars, but thus far she had not told him she was from the future. Mayhap he would try again.
“You said you are from America?”
She fluttered her eyes at him, and he had the feeling she was used to men doing her bidding.
“Did I? No, I meant…another country.”
“What country?”
What would she say? And why did he ask? For if she told him, he would be bound to tell her he knew other future girls, which he did not wish to do. Not yet.
“I’m from Greece.”
He spoke a few words to her in Greek and saw the confusion upon her face.
“Everyone speaks English in the town where I live.”
Nay, he would not ask her anything else. Let her tell him when she would. The longer she waited, the more time he had to spend with her as Christian the merchant.
“I would like to see this town someday. You have done well today.” He helped her up and they continued on their journey, the leaves underfoot telling all they were approaching. A while later, they rested by a small stream to quench their thirst.
Late in the day, they passed a small hut. Before she asked, he shook his head.
“Not there. The inn is not far.”
She looked at the home as they passed by. “Is that a face carved in the wood?”
He peered at the stump. “Aye, to keep the spirits of the dead away.”
“Wait. Is it Halloween? I mean, All Hallows’ Eve?”
“’Twas last night. Are you superstitious? Believing in ghosts and spirits?”
She scoffed. “No. I don’t believe in ghosts, but in my town, we bake sweets on All Hallows’ Eve to celebrate our ancestors.”
Two men on horses thundered past them as Christian pulled Ashley close. “Whoresons,” he called out, but they were too far away to hear the insult.
They continued onward. The smell reached him before they came upon the inn.
Ashley pulled him forward. “Is that someplace we can stay tonight?”
“Nay, we have no coin to pay for lodging or food.” Her hand was warm in his, and she did not pull away.
“I’m dirty, tired, and hungry. There’s something I’ve been hiding.”
Was she going to tell him she was from the future? He would profess surprise. She stopped, removing her hand from his, and he felt the cold wrap around him again.
As he watched, she pulled something from her dress and opened her palm to show him a gold ring.
“I hid it before those men could steal it.” She shuddered, and he thought she was remembering the men who had attacked them. “Is it enough to pay for our supper?”
He took the ring, examining the gold band inset with tiny rubies. “Aye, more than enough. With this we can purchase a horse along with a bed and supper.”
Christian gave her back the ring. “You should not part with it. ’Tis yours.”
“No. It was my mother’s, and she would approve”. Ashley placed the ring in his palm, curling her hand around his. “I want us to use it.”
“I will repay you.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
The heat from so many people crowded in the small inn made him sweat. The smell of meat and ale made his mouth water.
“What is that stink?” Ashley clapped a hand over her mouth. The look on her face made him want to laugh, but he dared not, knowing she was powerfully hungry and likely to stab him with his own dagger if he did so.
“It smells like these people haven’t taken a bath in at least a month. And the stale beer. Don’t they ever clean the floors?”
“What can I get you two?”
The innkeeper showed them to a small table against the wall
, next to the fire.
’Twas like being in hell. Christian showed the ring to the man.
“We were robbed of our belongings except for the ring. We require a horse, a room, and food and drink.”
The man held the ring up close to the fire to get a better look. He touched the gold to his tongue and bit down on the ring.
“You were set upon by thieves? There have been many reports the past fortnight.” He called to one of the serving wenches, “Bring food and ale. The ring will pay for your needs. The horse has seen better days, but he’ll see you where you need to be.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t quick enough to hide the rest of my jewelry,” Ashley said.
“You did well, mistress.” It chafed Christian to allow a woman to pay for his keep. He was a knight. He provided for those in need.
The serving wench brought a pitcher of ale, and Ashley was on her third cup before the food was served.
“You should not drink so much when you have not eaten since yesterday.”
She hiccupped. “I’m thirsty, I’m starving, and the ale cools me off. It’s hotter than hell in the summertime in here.”
For a moment her speech was different. ’Twas like Charlotte and her sisters.
The food smelled better than it tasted. The bread had small rocks in it but was hot, and the stew was a bit greasy, but it filled his belly.
Ashley wrinkled her nose. “I don’t even want to know what kind of meat this is.” Before he could tell her, she held up a hand. “No, I really don’t want to know.” She hiccupped again, humming under her breath. ’Twas a catchy tune that made him tap his foot.
The innkeeper approached, looking downcast and wringing his hands. “A noble has arrived and demanded your room. ’Twas the last one. You will have to sleep in the stables.”
“Leave it to me,” she whispered, before reaching up to let her hair down, the golden waves tumbling about her shoulders.
Christian couldn’t have opened his mouth to protest if he wanted to. Ashley nudged him under the table. The flames cast shadows on her face, changing her, from his Ashley to a courtier who knew how to send men to their knees. She blinked up at the innkeeper.
“Certainly you must have one room hidden away for special guests? What if the king arrived?”
As the man hesitated, hemming and hawing, she reached out and touched the man’s sleeve, tilting her head as Christian, the innkeeper, and his wife gaped at her.
“I will sing for your guests. Will that pay for the room?”
“Do you know how to sing?” Christian said.
“Be quiet.”
The man’s wife snorted. “Are you married, then? Otherwise it would not be fitting for you to be taking this lovely lass to your bed.”
“Aye, we’re married, nigh on a year,” Christian said.
Ashley blinked at him but said naught, for she wanted to sleep in a proper bed this night.
“Well, then.” The innkeeper and his wife beamed at her. “Aye, you shall sing and have your room.”
“As soon as I finish my meal, I will entertain your guests.”
Ashley was thinking, desperately trying to remember lyrics to songs, and Christian kept trying to talk to her. Finally she’d had enough.
“If you don’t quit talking to me, I’m going to throw my cup at you. Please, let me think.”
“Do you truly not know any songs? We will find another way. You do not need to do this.”
She hiccupped again and tilted the cup of ale, draining the cup and setting it down with a bang. It was so hot and crowded. The ceramic cup felt cool against her skin as she pressed it to her cheeks and neck.
“I’m sleeping in a bed tonight. I refuse to sleep outside again or with the smelly horses.” With that, she stood and cleared her throat. “I shall sing for you all.”
But no one paid any attention. They were all talking and drinking.
“Take the…” She looked at Christian. “What are these bread things called again?”
“Trenchers.”
“Right.” Ashley called out to a serving wench passing by, “Take the trenchers away so I may sing, but bring us another pitcher of ale.”
“Aye, mistress.” The serving wench had the nerve to wink at Christian as she passed by.
Ashley scowled at him. “She better back off.” Her hiccups were finally going away. It was so hot in here. She poured another cup of ale and climbed up on the table, planting her feet. Still no one paid her any attention. Fine. She stomped on the wood with all her weight. That got their attention. It looked like a motley assortment of peasants, murders, soldiers, and what she guessed were nobles. And they were all staring at her.
Full of liquid courage, she found a few people in the crowd and met their eyes, putting on her most charming smile. When she was at work, she pretended she was someone else. Not Ashley the studious girl, but her alter ego, Amanda. Amanda was brave and didn’t take crap from anyone. She didn’t mind Halloween while Ashley hated the holiday with a passion. She spoke her mind, was aggressive and decisive, and didn’t let anyone get in her way. Amanda knew how to put Mitch down, and Amanda was going to sing so Ashley could have a hot bath and a warm bed tonight.
Ashley held up her cup, looked down at Christian, and in her voice meant to project to the farthest end of a conference room said, “let’s have a song or two shall we, boys?”
There was cheering and whistling as she tapped her foot. All the old-school drinking songs she remembered from dive bars in college ran through her head. Best to start with the song about whiskey. Tapping her foot helped keep the rhythm as the song played in her head. With a deep breath, she opened her mouth and belted out the song.
Halfway through, the crowd really got into it, banging on the tables and stamping their feet. Next she went with the song about the guy in a bar who was on the run. Then the Sally song, and of course a tune by the Dropkick Murphys. That one really got them going, just like she thought it might.
Ashley held out her cup for a refill, but Christian shook his head, turning the pitcher upside down. No, no, no, she needed her liquid courage to get through the rest of this. Catching the serving wench’s eye, she picked up the pitcher and waved it around in the air over her head. The woman hurried over, bringing a fresh pitcher, and Ashley went with that song by George Jones about memories.
Unused to singing so much, her throat felt scratchy, and she decided it was time to wind down before the crowd got too out of control. So she sang a song by Hem, then followed it with John Lee Hooker. That had a couple of the men wiping their eyes. For the grand finale, she belted out that song by Thin Lizzy.
The hysterical thing about all this? During her three years of college, Ashley had never spent time in a bar. Always busy studying with her crazy course load, there wasn’t time, not with a double major and graduating a year early. Plus, legally she was too young to drink—though she had a fake ID like everyone else, she’d never used hers. But her apartment was across the street from a bar, and she’d had ample opportunity not only to hear the songs they played but to observe people at their worst.
The last notes faded away and she climbed down from the table to shouts and cheers from the crowd. They called for more, but she shook her head, the motion making the room spin.
She bowed and almost fell over, would have if a strong arm hadn’t caught her around the waist, pulling her back against a wall. A wall that smelled like winter and leather and horses. She tilted her head back to see cerulean eyes gazing at her, the corner of his mouth pulled up as if by a string.
“You’re full of surprises, Ashley Bennett.”
His two eyes turned to four. She blinked and shook her head to clear her vision. Totally bad idea. Everything spun, the voices too loud, the heat unbearable. She was way over her limit. All of a sudden all the ale caught up to her. She turned to face Christian, clutching his tunic. “I need air.”
The door kept moving. Frustrated, she stumbled, only to be swept up in Christian’s a
rms to the cheers of the crowd.
“Do you always carry women around?”
He grinned. “Only you.”
As they passed the innkeeper, he nodded to them. “Fine singing. Such wonderful songs. You shall have your room. My wife is making it ready.”
Ashley was too smashed to answer, her eyes heavy. From far, far away she heard Christian thank the man. Once they were outside, the cold night air helped, and she opened her eyes. The revolt started in her stomach and traveled up to her throat.
“Please, put me down. I don’t feel so well.”
Chapter Twelve
Christian had never heard such songs before. To see Ashley standing on the table before the entire inn, singing, had surprised him, as had the copious amount of ale she consumed.
He put her down, as she bade, but kept a hand on her arm as she swayed in the wind, bleary-eyed and red in the face. Using his sleeve, he wiped the sweat from her brow.
“It’s so hot in there. I needed fresh air.”
The water from the well was cold. He sniffed; it smelled sweet, so he fetched them a cup.
“Drink. You’ll feel better.”
Water ran down the side of her mouth as she drained the cup.
“More.”
With a grin, he refilled her cup. “As the lady wishes.”
Ashley blinked. “I love your accent. You know, you’re incredibly good-looking, like movie-star hot.” She swayed again. “You can let go of me now.”
The future girl found his visage pleasing. Christian looked down to see more gold in her eyes this night. “Let go? Methinks you would meet the ground, lady.”
For a moment he released his hold, and she stumbled. “Perchance I shall keep you close. Thieves might be about.”
“You’ll take care of them.” She fit perfectly to his side, and he had to strain to hear her mumblings.
“I like having you hold me.”
In truth, he never wanted to let her go. Ashley Bennett was opinionated, vexing, intelligent, and beautiful. And when she was with him, she banished his loneliness as the sun sent the darkness into hiding. In every way she was his match, and yet…she wanted to go home, and he was betrothed and could not break the engagement without losing his honor. There could be nothing between them, no matter how he wished otherwise.
Last Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 4) Page 9
