by Speer, Flora
“But don’t you understand? I can use them to gain what should be mine,” Pepin said, all eagerness and excitement. “Once I am king, I will have the power to control them. They will obey me.”
“As your father controls them?” Dominick asked scornfully. “As they obey him and keep their word to him?”
“I am the firstborn son!” Pepin cried. “My rights have been denied me!”
“Is that the argument they used to win you over? You have known from your earliest childhood that you are physically unfit to be king of the Franks,” Dominick said. “Furthermore, you are legally a bastard. Therefore, the Church will not accept you as king. Surely you understand that you cannot rule Francia without the backing of the clergy.”
“I am no more a bastard than you are!” Pepin exclaimed bitterly. “We were both born into legal marriages.”
“Forget your illegitimacy, and your deformity, though I assure you, others will not forget either, not for a moment,” Dominick said with brutal honesty. “Tell me this, Pepin: in your wildest dreams, can you imagine Charles meekly giving up his throne? If you want to be king, you will have to kill your father.”
“No. It won’t come to that.” Pepin sounded breathless. “We are going to capture him and send him to a monastery, just as he has done to so many other men.”
“Charles will never allow himself to be taken alive. If you think otherwise, then you know nothing about your father.”
“Dominick, please, I came here to ask you to join us. You are my oldest friend. I want you with me.”
“Because we are old friends, you know how I lost my inheritance from my father and later won Feldbruck by right of arms, fighting with Charles in the war against Tassilo,” Dominick said. “If you are my true friend, how can you ask me to endanger my hard-won lands and my people by betraying my king?”
“When I am king of the Franks, I will confirm you in your estate,” Pepin cried. “And when we divide Tassilo’s treasure, I will see that you receive your full share.”
“Ah,” said Dominick. “Tassilo’s treasure. Now I begin to understand. That is what your false friends, the disaffected nobles, really want, isn’t it?”
“Always after a campaign,” Pepin declared, “the lands and possessions of the defeated have been divided among the men who followed Charles into battle. Tassilo’s treasure is the single exception. The entire gigantic hoard was given to Fastrada, that greedy bitch. And did she distribute it as she ought to have done? As any decent queen would do? No! She kept it all for herself.”
“It seems to me there are noblemen as greedy as the queen.” Dominick spoke with remarkable mildness after Pepin s uncontrolled emotion. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that many of the men who now claim a portion of Tassilo’s treasure are the same men who fought for Tassilo, against Charles and the Frankish army? Why should they think taking an oath to Charles after the war is over gives them the right to any part of the treasure?”
“Then there is my younger brother, Carloman,” Pepin said as if Dominick had not spoken. “When my father made Carloman king of the Lombards, he had the little brat re-baptized, as Pepin!”
“I know,” Dominick said gently. “Charles wants the Lombards to associate their new king with a great Frankish ruler.”
“First I was denied the right to succeed my father,” Pepin said. “Then I was unjustly declared a bastard. And now, as a final insult, my very name has been taken from me. These are wrongs no man can forgive.”
“You would be wiser, and happier, not to dwell on such matters,” Dominick said. “Your immediate, dangerous problem lies with the dishonest nobles who are trying to use you against your father. Pepin, I think you do not understand how difficult it is to be a king beset by contentious nobles and to try to keep peace among them.”
“I understand that Charles the Great does not love me at all,” Pepin retorted with bitter assurance. “Are you with me, Dominick? Are you still my friend?”
Gina heard this discussion with growing horror, not for Pepin’s sake, but for Dominick’s. Regardless of whether he joined Pepin’s rebellion, Dominick was involved in the scheme merely by listening to Pepin’s offer. If the plot failed, or if Dominick was caught, he’d be executed, probably in a very painful way.
While Gina was trying to decide what to do, she noticed a motion at one side of the garden. Her eyes had adjusted to the fading light, allowing her to make out a tall figure in a dark robe. With Dominick’s safety foremost in her mind, she acted immediately.
“Dominick,” she called, stepping out from the trees, “there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Gina?” Dominick’s boots crunched on the gravel as he spun around to peer in her direction. “Have you been spying on us?”
“Certainly not. I just came to kiss you good night.” She caught Dominick’s neck with one hand, pulling his head down. With her lips against his ear she whispered, “Father Guntram is hiding in the shadows, listening to every word you say.”
“And you weren’t?” he responded, also in a whisper.
“I’m on your side, Dominick.”
“Which side is that?” he whispered back.
“Is something wrong?” Pepin asked, his normally pitched voice sounding loud in the darkness.
“Just a tender good night,” Dominick said, and kissed Gina hard on her mouth before turning back to his friend. “Pepin, it is growing late, and you will want to resume your journey at first light. You and I should also say good night.”
“Will you at least think about the plans I’ve told you of?” Pepin asked, sounding tense and worried.
“My friend, I always consider your words seriously,” Dominick responded. He put an arm around Gina’s waist, keeping her near. “I will see you in the morning before you leave.”
“Good night, then,” Pepin said. “I know I don’t have to tell you not to speak to anyone else about what we’ve discussed here.”
Pepin started for the hall, and Gina saw his slight, twisted form silhouetted against the light spilling from the door.
“Good night, Pepin,” she called after him.
Dominick s right arm tightened around her waist as if to warn her not to say anything more. His left hand caught her chin, holding her so she couldn’t turn her face aside. To anyone watching them, as Father Guntram surely was, they probably looked as though they were enjoying a brief romantic encounter.
When Dominick bent his head, it wasn’t just fear of what might happen to him that made Gina tremble; it was also the memory of their time in the glade beside the stream. His mouth brushed lightly over hers.
“Now I know for certain that you are a spy,” he murmured with his lips against hers.
“I’m not. I just happened to be in the garden,” she protested, keeping her voice low. “I know I shouldn’t have stayed hidden, but when I heard what you and Pepin were saying, I was too embarrassed to reveal myself.”
“You were eavesdropping.”
He kissed her again, slowly and thoroughly, until her knees went weak and she clung to him to keep from falling.
“So was Father Guntram eavesdropping,” she gasped as soon as she was able to free her mouth from his. “He still is. You can’t deny that I warned you he was lurking about.”
“For what purpose did you warn me?” His lips were scorching along her throat, and his hands grasped her ribcage on either side of her breasts. The heat of his palms made her heart flutter like a captive bird. “Surely, dear Gina, you had a reason for speaking up when you did.”
“I’m worried about you. Don’t get involved in that crazy scheme of Pepin’s. In any time, in any place, they kill traitors.”
“So, you’re worried about me, are you?” His thumbs flicked across her nipples several times. Gina cried out, a wild, aching sob that Dominick silenced with another kiss. His arms encircled her, his large palms moving steadily down her back to catch her hips and pull her hard against him, letting her feel his desire until Gina
forgot all about political plots and treacherous nobles and resentful royal sons.
“I have decided what to do,” Dominick told her some time later. He was still holding her hips firmly against his, and Gina was quivering with an urgent need she had never known before, but he spoke coolly and calmly, as if completely detached from any emotion. “I must travel to Regensburg as soon as possible, and you are far too dangerous for me to leave behind. But for now, you are to go to your room and stay there until morning.”
When he released her, she thought she’d faint. She wanted to scream at him that he was committing a major mistake if he joined Pepin’s harebrained scheme. She wanted to pound on his chest and pull his hair and say she hated him – and then throw herself into his arms and plead with him to remain at Feldbruck.
She knew he’d never agree to that. Pepin was his friend, Charles was his king, and Dominick was going to step right into the middle of their intrigues. And unless she could discover a way to get back to the twentieth century – fast – he was going to take her along with him.
Chapter 7
Gina lay awake for hours that night, worrying. Though she felt a deep sympathy for Pepin, she thought he was foolish to allow himself to be used by the disloyal nobles. To her way of thinking, it was not an act of friendship for him to involve Dominick in a scheme that was probably going to end up with both of them being killed.
“And me, too,” Gina concluded. “If the authorities start asking questions, they’re going to learn I don’t have a past or a family in this time. They’ll think I’m hiding something important – and I am, but not state secrets.”
The danger to Dominick and herself was upsetting enough. Even more terrifying was her realization that Dominick, with his tenderness and his passion, was beginning to destroy her personal defenses. She didn’t want to become emotionally involved with him, for she knew from past experience that heartbreak lay dead ahead if she allowed herself to care for a man. Her reaction was panic and a desire to flee before her heart could be broken again.
As the first faint glimmer of dawn lit the sky, and the snowcapped Alpine peaks began to glow with a soft peach tint, she made up her mind. Before Dominick dragged her off to Regensburg, she was going to check his bedchamber from floor to ceiling in an all-out effort to find a way back to the last day of the twentieth century. If she found it, she would use it, because if she remained in the eighth century much longer she was likely to lose both her life and her heart – and she couldn’t decide which prospect was more frightening.
Having reached her decision, she fell asleep and did not waken until Ella knocked on her door to tell her Pepin and Father Guntram were about to leave. Gina was in no mood for dressing up, so she threw on her everyday shift and the well-worn green woolen gown, splashed cold water on her face, raked her fingers through her thick, short curls, then hurried to the courtyard.
There, by the gatehouse, the men-at-arms were making final preparations for their journey. Pepin was already mounted, looking uncomfortable on his donkey. Father Guntram, also mounted, was a frowning presence close by Pepin’s side.
“We’ll meet again in Regensburg,” Pepin said to Gina. He held her hand a bit longer than he should have, and he looked from her face to Dominick’s closed visage. “I know you are going to be a good friend to me, Gina, just as Dominick has always been.”
“Have a safe trip,” Gina said, finally succeeding in pulling her fingers free of his grasp.
Father Guntram bade Dominick a curt farewell, pointedly ignored Gina, and led the procession out of Feldbruck with Pepin and six men-at-arms following.
“Are those the king’s soldiers?” Gina asked, watching the men-at-arms.
“They belong to one of the Bavarian nobles,” Dominick answered curtly. He began to walk away from her in the direction of the stable.
“Is it an honor guard, or is Pepin a prisoner?”
Dominick paused, but he didn’t turn to face her. “Pack your belongings,” he said. “We leave for Regensburg early tomorrow morning.”
“You will catch up with Pepin by tomorrow night,” she remarked. “According to Ella, he can’t travel very fast. Why didn’t you tell him to wait and leave with you? I’m sure he’d rather have you to talk with than Father Guntram.”
“I have no desire to travel with Pepin,” he said. “We will not catch up with him along the way. We are taking a different route.”
“Dominick, will you kindly turn around and look at me? I don’t like talking to your back.”
He spun on his heel, and Gina saw how closed and hard his expression was.
“You’re still angry about last night,” she began.
“I am angry about many things,” he said. “Do not think to send a message about my plans, not to Pepin or to anyone else. No one leaves Feldbruck until we ride out tomorrow.”
“Why would I want to send a message? I don’t really know what’s behind all the plotting, and, furthermore, I don’t care.” That was far from true, but she was so worried about Dominick’s safety that she couldn’t stop herself from snapping out an insult. “If you want to risk your neck in a stupid scheme to take over the kingdom, that’s your problem, not mine.”
“It will be your problem, and your neck, if you are involved,” he said. “After last night’s eavesdropping episode, I cannot trust you.”
“Gee, that’s too bad. I was just beginning to trust you,” she snarled the words at him, because she could see the doubt and the pain in his eyes when he looked at her, and seeing it made her heart ache. She didn’t want to feel the way Dominick made her feel, all soft and tender inside, trusting and foolish, ready to be hurt again. The conflict between what she felt for Dominick and her need to keep herself safe from emotional pain was driving her crazy.
“I will be occupied for most of the day, making arrangements for Feldbruck during my absence,” he said. “I’ll speak to you this evening about what I expect of you during the journey and at Regensburg.”
He gave her a hard look and stalked off, leaving Gina angry and exasperated – and longing to throw herself into his arms and explain everything to him. She was afraid to do it, afraid he wouldn’t believe her. He didn’t trust her, so he’d never accept her story about traveling through time. She had to protect herself from caring about him. The only way to do that was by leaving Feldbruck the same way she had come.
Dominick had said he’d be busy all day. That meant he wouldn’t be in his bedroom. Keeping a safe distance from the kitchen, where Hedwiga was assigning morning chores to the servants, Gina hurried up the stairs to the second level of the house.
Dominick’s bed was still unmade, the quilt tossed back as he had left it upon rising. One of his books lay open on the wooden chest. When Gina glanced at it she noticed the page was the one containing the painting of the angel with multicolored wings and a real gold halo. She lightly brushed a finger over the angel, feeling the texture of the paint and the smoothness of the parchment.
“I wish you could help me,” Gina said with a sigh. “I wish you could help Dominick, too. As it is, he’ll be better off without me to worry about, and I know my heart will be safer if I can get far away from him.”
Ignoring the whisper in her mind that said she didn’t want to leave Dominick and never see him again, she kicked off her soft shoes and climbed onto his bed, balancing herself with one hand against the wall. On the day of her arrival in Francia she had fallen straight down through the roof tiles and ceiling directly above the bed. There had to be some sign of her passage.
By standing on tiptoe and stretching her free arm, she was just able to reach the ceiling. It was definitely solid. She felt the plaster, pressing as hard as she could and jumping up to knock on it. Then she moved along the mattress, keeping herself steady with a hand on the wall, continuing to test the ceiling as she worked her way from the head of the bed to its foot.
“How did I get through the roof? Did the molecules of my body somehow pass through the molecul
es of tile and plaster, like a special-effects gimmick in a science-fiction movie? But this isn’t science fiction. It’s real. It happened.”
She caught her breath when she heard footsteps in the corridor. If one of the servants was coming to straighten the room, she’d lose her chance to explore it. And with Dominick determined to take her with him to Regensburg, she was unlikely to have another opportunity.
In a frantic final attempt to find the opening, she flung both arms high and jumped.
Her left hand disappeared into the ceiling. There was no shattering of plaster, no chalky flakes sifting onto her head. Her hand simply vanished up to her wrist. At the same time, she felt a definite sucking action on her arm.
A small hole opened above her, allowing just a glimpse of sky before the blue was replaced by the darkness of the tunnel. The tunnel was too small to accept her body, but she could see it slowly enlarging, and she could feel the suction increasing. Soon she would be able to enter.
She hesitated, withdrawing her hand, afraid to be pulled into that cold, black emptiness for a second journey through time. She wanted to return to the world that was familiar to her. She was convinced she must return. Yet some part of her resisted.
“Would you care to explain why you are standing on my bed?” said an unmistakable masculine voice.
“Dominick!” Gina turned to face him just as he looked up and saw the opening.
“What in the name of all the saints is that?” he demanded.
The tunnel closed. Without a sound it was gone, and the ceiling was smooth once more, as if the opening had never existed.
Dominick grabbed for Gina. When she tried to avoid him, her foot caught on the upturned edge of the quilt, and she spilled off the bed and into his arms.
“What are you doing here?” she gasped.
“Precisely the question I was asking of you. Need I remind you that this is my room and you have no right to be here? What were you doing? I will have an explanation for what I just saw.”
