by Speer, Flora
“Put me down first,” she ordered, knowing she couldn’t think clearly when she was so close to him.
He set her on her feet but kept a tight grip on her upper arms. His eyes were gray ice, boring into her. For the first time since the day of her arrival she was truly afraid of him.
“Were you opening a secret door in the ceiling?” he demanded, shaking her. “I warn you, I am in no mood to listen to half truths and evasions. You are going to tell me, right now, who has employed you to spy on me.”
“No one!” She tried to escape him, but he only held her more securely. “I don’t know anyone outside of Feldbruck.”
“You cannot expect me to accept that,” he said, his grasp growing ever tighter on her arms. “Were you sent here to entice me into joining the traitors, in case Pepin’s pleas failed?”
“No, certainly not. Dominick, let me go.”
“I will not lose Feldbruck,” he said, his mouth hard. “I keep what is rightfully mine.”
“That’s fine with me. I don’t have anything to do with that dumb plot,” she cried in dismay. The kind, humorous man she knew had vanished. In his place stood a warrior prepared to deal with any threat to what he held dear. Almost any threat, though he couldn’t possibly be prepared for what she could tell him if she dared. Feeling trapped and desperate, she said, “If I told you the whole truth, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Perhaps I would. Perhaps I’d rather hold a kinder opinion of you than I do at the moment. Almost any explanation would be preferable to what I am thinking.”
She stared at his grim expression, weighing the chance that he’d accept the whole truth against the risk that he’d kill her the instant she finished speaking.
“I am waiting,” he said.
Gina’s bravado collapsed. She couldn’t bear to have him believe her a liar or a traitor or a lot of other nasty things. She wanted Dominick to think well of her, and the only way to achieve that was to tell him the whole truth. Not allowing herself time to consider what her longing for his approval meant, she began to talk.
“All right, I’ll tell you. I was looking for a tunnel through time,” she said, tearing her gaze from his face to glance at the ceiling above his bed. “I found it, too, but it vanished again when you interrupted me. Now I may never find a way back.”
“Back where?” he demanded. “What tunnel?”
“When I arrived here that first morning, you asked how I got into your room,” she said, trying to sound calm and confident though her heart was pounding in apprehension over what she was about to reveal. “I told you I fell through the roof. That was the truth.”
“I don’t understand.” He was still gripping her arms and still frowning.
“Neither do I. Dominick, I swear to you, I am not a madwoman. I’m telling you the truth as far as I know it. I have no explanation for what happened to me.” She paused, took a deep breath, and continued, simplifying the story as much as possible.
“I was working with a complex machine when something went wrong. All I remember is a searing flame, then a cold, black tunnel. I thought I was dying, until suddenly I was falling through the air. I was so high that I could see all of Feldbruck, every part of it that we rode over yesterday. I was convinced I was going to crash into the roof of your house and be killed. Instead, I landed on top of you. The reason I came to your room this morning was to search the ceiling.”
“When I first entered, I thought I saw a dark hole in the ceiling, but there is nothing wrong with it now,” he said, glancing upward.
“That is frighteningly true,” she agreed.
“You fell through the air?”
“It was a very strange sensation.”
“On that first day you asked me where you were.”
“The place where I had been working was not Yorvik, and not in Northumbria,” she said, speaking slowly and carefully, aware that what she was about to reveal would be even more unbelievable than what he had already heard. “It was a huge city called New York. It is larger than any city you can imagine, and it’s in a country that lies on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.”
“I’ve heard tales of such a faraway land, but no one has ever actually seen it.”
“It exists, all right. But there’s even more, Dominick.” From his set face she couldn’t tell what his reaction to her story was, but she had gone too far to stop before he knew everything. “I also came here from the future. To be exact, twelve hundred and eight years in the future.”
He dropped his hands from her arms and stepped away, regarding her with horror.
“Was it witchcraft?” he asked. “Has someone placed you under a spell, and are you searching for a way to break it?”
“No. That’s one of the few things I am sure of. It wasn’t magic, it was the computer – the machine. Actually, very few people in my time still believe in magic or witchcraft. Even fewer believe in miracles. As I said, I don’t have an explanation.”
He looked at her for a long time, and the horror slowly faded from his face. Still, she couldn’t read his expression.
“Do we Franks seem like barbarians to you?” he finally asked.
“Far from it. The people here at Feldbruck are the kindest, most generous and hospitable souls I’ve ever met. Dominick, everything I told you yesterday about my past life was true. I just didn’t mention the dates.”
“Can you tell me what will happen to Charles in the next few months?” he asked.
“If I knew, I would gladly tell you. Unfortunately, I am almost completely ignorant about this period of history.”
“I see.”
“Do you believe what I’ve just said?”
“You are unlike any other woman I’ve ever known,” he said slowly, as if thinking over her words.
“I’m sure I am,” she responded.
“In the short time you’ve been at Feldbruck, I have learned you are not a madwoman, and you are far from stupid. Ignorant of Frankish customs, eager to ask peculiar questions, yes – and your story does explain your odd behavior and your lack of everyday knowledge.” He was looking at her with a strange mixture of warmth and regret. “After listening to you yesterday, I am astounded that you have entrusted me with this part of your story.”
“I’m a bit astounded myself,” she said, venturing a weak smile. “You’re the first man I’ve trusted in years.”
“Well, I intend to prove worthy of your trust,” he said. “Since you want to return home, I will try to help you. I have an idea.”
“You have?” She didn’t know whether to be glad or annoyed that he was so eager to get rid of her.
“While there is no sign of your entry through the ceiling,” he said, “you haven’t explored the roof have you?”
“If I found a ladder and tried to scale your house,” she responded wryly, “your men-at-arms would likely ask a lot of questions. Not to mention what Hedwiga would say if she saw me.”
“You don’t need a ladder,” Dominick said.
“Above us the roof slants at an angle, but the ceiling is flat. Between the two is an open space that is used for storage. An attic. Shall we see in what we can discover up there?”
She studied his face, trying to discern his real attitude. He cocked an eyebrow and watched her in return, and all she could see in him was a faint, rueful amusement at her hesitation.
“Yes, please,” she said at last.
Dominick took her hand and pulled her out of his room and along the corridor to the end of the wing, where stairs led down to ground level. A smaller staircase climbed upward. At its top was a narrow door.
Gina was right behind Dominick as he pushed open the door and stepped into the attic. On either side of them the roof slanted right down to the floor. A small window at each end of the long, narrow space provided just enough light for Gina to see trunks and baskets piled along the eaves. A dusty straw pallet was spread near the door, a quilt folded on top of it.
“Someone has been here,” Gina
said.
“Probably servants looking for a bit of privacy,” Dominick responded, making his way to the other end of the attic. “My bedchamber will be just about here. I can find no sign of anything awry. Come see for yourself.”
Gina hurried forward to the spot he indicated. She banged on the roof with both fists and stamped her feet on the wooden plank flooring. Her efforts raised a small cloud of dust that made her sneeze, but they produced no evidence of her entry to Feldbruck or of the brief reappearance of the tunnel.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “There has to be a sensible explanation for what happened to me.”
“Occasionally something happens for which there is no explanation,” Dominick said.
“Are you telling me to just accept my lot and live with it?”
“I suppose I am.”
“But I want to understand how this happened!”
“Why must you understand everything? I don’t understand much of what you’ve told me. Nonetheless, I accept it on faith. Or perhaps,” he added quietly, “I simply want to believe you are not a spy trying to entrap me. But, for many reasons, I do accept your story.”
“Thank you for that.” Sudden awareness of Dominick’s presence and of how alone they were prickled along Gina’s spine. She started for the doorway and the stairs, speaking over her shoulder as she went. “And thank you for letting me check out your attic.”
“I am sorry you did not find what you sought.”
He sounded so honestly regretful that Gina turned to face him. Watching him and not where she was going, she smacked the back of her head on the roof. She cried out and instantly felt the threat of tears. Why was she getting so emotional just because Dominick was being kind?
“Gina.” Dominick’s arm was across her shoulders, guiding her the few steps to the pallet. “Sit down.”
She sat, wrapping her arms around her knees, and pillowing her head on them. Dominick knelt beside her, watching her anxiously.
“I’ll be fine in a minute,” she said.
The attic was quiet and comfortably warm. A single bee was buzzing along the eaves, trying to find a way out. Dominick’s fingers were in her hair, rubbing the sore spot. Gina sighed and relaxed a little. Dominick certainly did have a calming effect on her. When he pulled her head to his shoulder, she did not resist. Nor did she protest when he lowered his head and kissed her.
“Would it be so hard for you to stay in this time with me?” he asked.
“As far as I can tell,” she said, “I don’t have any choice in the matter. I don’t know when, or if, that tunnel will appear again.”
She fell silent, uncertain what she really wanted. The only sounds she could hear were the pounding of her own heart and Dominick’s breathing. The bee was still.
“You had enough faith in me to reveal your strange story,” he murmured.
“And you believed me,” she said, leaning back in his arms to look into the warmth of his eyes.
“Gina,” he whispered. His fingers stopped their movement through her hair. Long, silent moments passed while the tension between them rose until it became unbearable. Gina ran her tongue across her dry lips and saw Dominick’s gaze follow the motion. She couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t stop what was happening to her mind and her body. It had really begun on the day when she, newly arrived in Francia, had lain beneath him in his bed and felt his hard manliness pressing against her. She hadn’t been able to shake the memory of that sensation; she had felt it again each time she looked at him.
She touched his face, conscious of the strong bones of his cheek and jaw. She traced the outline of his lips. Dominick caught her hand and kissed her palm, and all of her fears dissolved. She had already trusted him with her life; now she was going to trust him with her body.
She let her head fall back against his arm while he kissed her throat, and she whimpered softly when his hands caressed her breasts. She wasn’t sure how he so easily removed her dress and shift and his clothing. She only knew he was being infinitely gentle and patient with her, somehow understanding that her past sexual experiences had been unpleasant ones.
After another few minutes Gina closed the door firmly on the painful memories of her past. For the first time in her life she wanted to touch an unclothed man. With his eager encouragement she began to caress Dominick, taking pleasure in his muscular strength and the contrast between his smooth chest and hairier limbs, reveling in the hot moistness of his mouth and tongue when he kissed her, and, finally, aching to feel the hard length of him between her thighs.
“How I have wanted you,” he whispered, returning every touch she bestowed on him with his own tender caresses. “Since the first day I met you, my beautiful Gina, I have longed to hold you this way.”
She started to protest that she wasn’t beautiful, but the words caught in her throat, for Dominick had just reached the hot, liquid center of her, and his fingers were working a magic she had never dared to hope for.
“Please,” she gasped, her hands stroking down his back, trying to pull him closer. She was a great, throbbing emptiness, and only Dominick could bring her the release she sought.
He filled her so slowly that she feared she would go mad from the drawn-out pleasure of it. He withdrew and repeated the slow, sliding motion. And did it again. And again.
Gina dissolved into a pulsating joy that went on and on as Dominick thrust faster and harder into her convulsing body, until she heard his gasp of pleasure and he went completely still.
It was a long time before she returned to the full knowledge that she was lying naked, in a state of complete physical contentment, on an old straw pallet in a dusty attic.
“This was no proper place to bed you,” Dominick said, smiling down at her, “especially not the first time.”
“It seemed like heaven to me.” He had said the first time, as if there were going to be other times. The thought made her smile, too. She stretched, feeling Dominick’s strong legs still tangled with hers, and lifted her face for his kiss.
“If I could find the way back to New York City,” she murmured, “you could go with me. You’d be safe there.”
His smile vanished. His face went perfectly still. An instant later he lifted himself away from her and reached for his tunic. When he spoke again, his voice was harsh.
“I belong here,” he told her. “This is my home. And, whether you like it or not, Gina, you are still traveling to Regensburg with me.”
Chapter 8
“You can’t tell me what to do.” In the warm attic she stood naked, facing him in outrage. “I am a free and independent woman. I have rights. Don’t imagine you can order me around just because you had sex with me.”
“Let me give you a lesson about this century, since you claim to be a stranger to it,” Dominick said. Flinging aside the tunic he hadn’t put on yet, he planted his fists on his hips, assuming the posture of a male who was absolutely certain of his own power and dominance. “There isn’t a person in Francia who will dare to deny me my rights. I am master here, and you will obey me. You gave yourself to me willingly. No force was involved between us. It seemed to me that what we did was more than the simple, lustful rutting your crude words imply, and, I confess, I enjoyed it greatly. Nevertheless, I will not be charmed by feminine wiles or coerced by foolish female anger. You will travel to Regensburg with me.”
“You miserable male chauvinist!” Infuriated by his attitude, Gina lifted one hand to slap him. He caught her wrist, twisting her arm behind her back and forcing her against his unclothed body. She went rigid, fighting the effect on her mind of that sensuous contact of skin to skin.
“Is this how you treated your wife?” she snarled at him. “No wonder she ran away to a convent.”
“What do you know of Hiltrude?”
The distrust was back on his face, making Gina regret her impulsive words. But she wasn’t going to back down.
“I wear Hiltrude’s clothes every day,” she said. “Hedwiga told me tha
t she divorced you.”
“That is inaccurate,” Dominick responded. “It was I who ended my marriage to Hiltrude. Would you like to know why?”
“Let me guess. Did she refuse to obey her masters orders?” It was a nasty remark, but Gina couldn’t help herself. She did want to hear Dominick’s version of the breakup, so it was a good thing he ignored her comment.
“Hiltrude was Fastrada’s agent. Fastrada suggested our marriage to Charles and promoted the idea until he agreed.”
“You could have refused to marry her,” Gina said.
“Refuse the king to whom I owe my lands and title, the man who has been a second father to me, when he arranged my marriage to a nobly born and well-dowered virgin? I think not. In fact, I was willing. In those days I was not yet aware of Hiltrude s duplicity.”
“Did you love her?” Gina asked.
“I tried. For a while I thought I did love her, until I learned she was involved in one of Fastrada’s intrigues. The contempt and lack of interest in her that I felt when the truth was revealed told me I had never loved her at all.”
“So you were a gentleman and let Hiltrude get the divorce,” Gina said. “How did you manage it? I thought the Church didn’t allow divorce.”
“As the old Frankish customs give way to Church decrees, divorce does become more difficult,” Dominick said. “Still, there are ways to end an unsatisfactory marriage.”
“Murder?” Gina suggested, and Dominick responded with a mirthless grin.
“It has been done,” he said, “though not by me. I’ll touch no woman in violence. I merely offered Hiltrude a choice. I would send her to Charles in chains, under guard, with a letter describing her involvement with Fastrada. Alternately, she could request a divorce and go quietly into a convent, and I would say nothing about the queen’s plan to ruin me through my wife. Hiltrude is intelligent enough to fear Fastrada’s wrath if the story were ever told, so she chose the convent. She used my illegitimacy as an excuse the Church would accept, and after I agreed to donate her dowry to the convent where she chose to retire, our divorce was quickly granted.
