Timestruck

by Speer, Flora

  “Having once been betrayed by a woman I took into my home and my bed,” Dominick concluded his account, “I am not likely to allow the same thing to occur again.”

  “You said you trust me,” Gina protested.

  “No, I did not. I said I choose to believe your tale of travel through time, which is a different matter entirely.”

  Dominick’s fingers were still fastened tightly around her wrist, pressing her hand and his against her back, keeping their warm, naked bodies close together, and Gina was finding rational thought increasingly difficult.

  “I thought you cared about me,” she said, rearing her head back so she could glare at him. “But you don’t. My mistake. What’s wrong with me? Why do I have to learn the same lesson over and over?”

  She tried to pull away from him. Dominick slid his free hand down over her hips, holding her closer, letting her feel his renewed arousal.

  “You hear, but you do not listen with your mind and your heart,” he said. “I do not make a habit of bedding every willing female I encounter.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

  “That I find you unusual, fascinating, alluring. That I must go to Regensburg, and I don’t want to leave you behind because I am going to need your help,” he said, and smiled at her in a way that nearly melted her bones.

  “How can I possibly help you?” she asked. “Never tell me you intend to join that band of traitors?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Good.” She sighed with relief. “I didn’t really imagine you were the kind of man who could betray his king.”

  “I intend to expose them,” Dominick said.

  “Will Charles believe you?” she asked. “It’s his son you’ll be accusing.”

  “There has to be a way to extricate Pepin from the influence of those wicked conspirators and save Charles from harm at the same time,” Dominick said. “Before I can speak to Charles on this matter, I need proof that cannot be denied, and I must have evidence that Pepin is being used.”

  “I’ve never been good at sitting around twiddling my thumbs,” Gina said. “Considering that I am apparently going to stay in the eighth century for a while, I’ll want something useful to occupy my time. What could be more useful than routing out a bunch of traitors? I’m with you, Dominick. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

  She didn’t add that if Dominick could expose the conspirators, he wasn’t likely to be accused of being one of them. Keeping Dominick safe was a prospect that appealed to her strongly enough to make her forget her fears and, at least temporarily, her concerns about returning to New York. She’d worry about New York later.

  “You do understand that there is a certain danger involved?” Dominick was searching her face as if to discover any hint of false intentions on her part.

  “I am already in danger, just by knowing about the plot,” she pointed out. “If we don’t stop it, we could be trapped in the middle of it and both lose our heads. Literally.”

  “I do admire courage in a woman,” he said. “Very well, then. When we reach Regensburg, I will introduce you at court. I’d like you to gather information from the ladies you meet there. I can’t question them; they’ll think I’m seeking another wife, and that will place any young lady I speak to for more than a moment in an awkward position. But you, as a female and a stranger, will be free to ask almost anything you want.”

  “Not just of the young girls,” Gina said. “I can talk with the older women, too. Old ladies love to give advice and to gossip, and unless they’re completely dotty, they often remember details that other, busier people forget or consider insignificant. That was true of my landlady back in New York, and I suspect it’s the case here, too. Now, tell me how we get to Regensburg.”

  “It will be difficult,” Dominick murmured, and bent his head to nibble at her earlobe. “The journey will take at least a week if the weather is good, and for most of that time I won’t be able to lie with you. I’m not sure I can contain myself for so long.”

  “Oh.” Gina hid her face in his shoulder, breathing in the clean smell of him, feeling his wonderful strength beneath her cheek. He released the hand he’d been holding behind her back, and she put both her arms around his waist. She couldn’t believe that less than half an hour after he had made love to her, he wanted to do it again—and that she was more than willing. She was eager, longing for the same glorious sensations and heart-stopping release she had experienced with him the first time. “I suppose we could lie together now. Couldn’t we?”

  “I was hoping you’d suggest it.” His hands were on her breasts, coaxing the nipples into hard peaks.

  Gina’s gasp of pleasure went straight to Dominick’s heart—and to his conscience. He prayed that he had judged her correctly, that her fantastic story was true, for if she was lying to him, more than his life was at risk. Far more important was the life of the king of the Franks. Pepin’s life, also, for Dominick knew Charles well enough to know that being forced to execute his own son would break that noble ruler’s valiant heart.

  Dominick sank onto the pallet with Gina in his arms. He was aware that her desire for him was intense enough to overcome her fears about what he was asking her to do, just as his incredible longing to possess her had melted most of his suspicions about her.

  Gina’s arms were around him, urging him toward complete union. Driven by uncontrollable desire, Dominick entered her in a swift rush, not being careful with her this time, obeying his body’s hot insistence. He saw her wonderful green eyes open wide in surprise, and a moment later he watched her shimmer into ecstasy. As he buried himself deep inside her with one final, forceful thrust, he hoped with all his heart and soul that she really was honest and true. For, whether she was or not, he didn’t think he could live without her.

  * * *

  “My plan is to present you as a visiting Northumbrian noblewoman,” Dominick said when they were dressed once more and back on the second level of his house. “However, no lady would show her face at court without at least one maidservant. Would you like to ask Ella to join you?”

  “I don’t know how to behave nobly at a royal court,” Gina protested, “and I don’t know anything about Northumbria.”

  “Just think carefully before you speak,” he said. “If you must, use the confusion of thought resulting from your recent severe illness as an excuse, and point out your very short hair as proof that you were sick. I have every confidence in you.”

  Gina wasn’t so sure that his confidence wouldn’t prove to be misplaced. If she made a serious mistake, they could both lose their lives. She did seize on Dominick’s idea that she should invite Ella along.

  “Not just as a maid,” she said to Ella later that morning, while the two of them were busy at their usual task of spreading out the laundry to dry. “I’m scared to death to go to a royal court. I’d like to have a friend with me.” It didn’t seem at all strange to think of the ever-cheerful Ella as a friend, though they had known each other less than a month.

  “Harulf is to lead Dominick s men-at-arms,” Ella said, her blue eyes dancing as she considered Gina’s invitation.

  “Well, then, you absolutely have to go with us,” Gina told her. “It was Dominick’s idea, so I’m sure Hedwiga won’t mind.”

  Far from objecting, Hedwiga had altered more of Hiltrude’s gowns for Gina to wear, and she supplied baskets to pack them into, which that could be strapped onto the pack horses that were to accompany Dominick’s party.

  There was such a rush to be ready to travel at short notice that Gina didn’t see Dominick again until evening, when she found him in the garden. She still wasn’t completely sure of him, so she approached him with some hesitation.

  “You look sad, Dominick.”

  “I may not see Feldbruck again until autumn,” he said with his gaze on the distant mountains. “I don’t like to be away from my land for so long.”

  “I understand,” she said. “If I ever find a p
lace to call home, I’m sure I’ll be as attached to it as you are to Feldbruck.”

  In response to her words he took her hand and kissed it.

  “You ought to go to bed,” he told her. “We leave at dawn.”

  “I thought you’d want – I mean – I thought tonight – after this morning -” Her tongue stammered to a halt.

  “Oh, I want,” he said. “More than you know. The problem is a lack of time. I still have to meet with Arno for several hours and give final instructions to Hedwiga and to three or four other people.”

  “I wish I knew more about running a place like this, so I could help you.”

  “Thank you for that. I think you need your sleep.” His hand brushed softly against her cheek. “I used you hard our second time this morning.”

  “I didn’t mind at all,” she said, grinning at him. “I enjoyed it. Very much.”

  “Oh, God help me. God help us both.”

  He caught her to him in a crushing embrace, holding her till she was breathless. Then he kissed her so long and so thoroughly that it was almost as if he was making love to her all over again. Standing there in the twilight with both of them fully clothed, the intensity of Dominick’s passion was mind-boggling. Gina half expected him to pull her into the trees and take her there. She wished he would. Instead, he released her abruptly.

  “Good night, Gina.” He walked away from her so fast that he was almost running, and he disappeared into the wing of the house where Arno’s office was.

  “Dominick,” she whispered, fingers at the lips he had just bruised with his passionate kiss. “You talk about feminine wiles? What about the masculine wiles you are using on me? I’m sure you know I can’t resist you. Why do I have this awful feeling that you are going to get both of us killed before you’re done?”

  Chapter 9

  They left Feldbruck at dawn, as Dominick had commanded, and rode north with the Alps at their backs. Gina was again mounted on Cela, and since she still hadn’t learned anything she needed to know about taking care of a horse, she was glad to see Benet and two other grooms riding along with their group and leading the pack horses. Harulf was at the head of eight brawny guards, all of them well armed.

  As for Gina s lack of riding skills, she didn’t have time to worry about that. Dominick was in a hurry, and Cela, apparently inspired by her equine companions, was moving far more quickly than on their first ride together. Gina just held on as best she could and hoped she wouldn’t fall.

  “The stream that runs through Feldbruck flows into the River Inn, which empties into the Danube,” Dominick explained as he rode beside Gina. “That’s the route Pepin and Father Guntram are using, along the waterways. It’s a longer journey, but easier for Pepin. They can travel by boat part of the time, and where they must ride, the roads are better, with more places to stop at night or if the weather turns bad. Rain and cold always make Pepin s back and legs ache.”

  “So we are taking the quicker and less scenic route?” Gina asked, a little breathless from the effort to stay in the saddle.

  “Straight overland to Regensburg,” he replied. “A rougher but more direct path.”

  “And you are making us travel as fast as possible because you plan to arrive a couple of days before Pepin does.”

  Dominick didn’t respond; he simply gave her a long look she couldn’t interpret.

  When Gina had first reached Feldbruck, the trees and undergrowth were arrayed in soft, springtime shades of green and gold. In the weeks since then the landscape had blossomed into the full density of lush summer, and the fields displayed healthy crops almost ready for the early harvest. Gina had never seen so many shades of green.

  When their company left the open farmland and entered the forest, the thick, leafy canopy above provided cool shade from the sun. Firs added a more somber note of dark green, along with a resinous fragrance that reminded Gina of Christmas. They were riding through a fairytale landscape of deep shadows and sudden, sunlit clearings, and of rushing streams that provided all the water they required for themselves and their animals. Only occasionally did they pass a settlement, and rarely did they meet other people.

  “I have seldom been away from Feldbruck,” Ella confided to Gina, “and never to Regensburg.”

  “Neither have I been there,” Gina said.

  “Aren’t you excited? We will see the king! And they say the queen is the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  Gina recalled Pepin’s unflattering comments about Fastrada’s character. “Beauty must be the primary requirement for the job,” she said.

  Unlike Ella, Gina wasn’t looking forward to meeting either the king or Fastrada. After asking a lot of questions over the past few weeks, she had figured out that Charles, king of the Franks, was the famous Charlemagne. She had learned about him in eighth grade, and, if she remembered correctly, he had a reputation for being a benevolent ruler. In light of what she knew about the scheme to remove him from his throne and young Pepin’s involvement in it, she tried to hold on to that thought.

  The first night out from Feldbruck they slept in the forest. The men-at-arms built a big bonfire, which Ella said was to scare away wild boars. Gina hoped the fire also kept any lurking woodland outlaws at bay. She was relieved to notice that the men-at-arms were taking turns at sentry duty, though not so pleased to hear Dominick say he would also stand guard during a watch. She had hoped to have some private time with him.

  They ate the cold meat, cheese, and bread that Hedwiga had packed for them and shared a couple of skins of wine. After a long day of riding the simple fare tasted almost as good as one of Hedwiga’s hot feasts.

  Gina had never slept under the stars before. She decided camping out was fun, especially after Dominick finished his watch and, while the others slept, lay down next to her, put his arm around her, and let her use his shoulder for a pillow. She drifted into slumber with his lips against her forehead.

  They were off again early in the morning after a breakfast of leftover bread and water from a nearby stream. Gina began to wonder where they would find their next meal. She needn’t have worried. Dominick knew what he was doing. In late afternoon, just as it began to rain, they reached a wide river.

  “It’s the Isar,” Dominick told her. “That’s Landshut on the other side, where there is a monastery. We can stay in their guesthouse for the night.”

  “And say a prayer in the monastery church for the sun to shine tomorrow,” Gina added from beneath the hood of the heavy gray cloak Hedwiga had found for her to wear. As she peered though the downpour, she could see a bridge just ahead of them. “At least we won’t have to ford the river, though I don’t think it would make much difference. I couldn’t be any wetter if I waded across.”

  Dominick laughed at her remarks and rode on ahead. Gina followed him over the bridge and through the monastery gate into a courtyard with a stable on one side and a guesthouse on the other. The monk who met them and whom Dominick

  called by name guided the travelers into a stone reception room, where charcoal braziers provided a warmth that quickly dried their damp clothing.

  Gina was so grateful to be out of the rain and near the heat that she didn’t even mind the pervasive smell of damp wool and unwashed bodies. When she stretched out her hands to the charcoal, she saw that her nails could use a scrubbing with soap and a stiff brush. So could her knuckles. Somehow, the grime wasn’t unimportant. She smiled ruefully, accepting that she was growing used to the inconveniences of the eighth century. She could bear inconvenience, so long as she was with Dominick.

  The monks gave them hot vegetable stew and brown bread for their evening meal, and Dominick made arrangements to take along bread and cheese when they left the next morning. From what Gina heard of his conversation with the prior, she understood that he regularly made large donations to the monastery and thus was entitled to food and lodging whenever he came that way.

  After two days in the saddle Gina was grateful for the narrow, hard bed
in the little cell that she and Ella shared. She was so tired that she only missed Dominick’s warmth beside her briefly before she fell into a deep sleep.

  Since leaving Feldbruck they had been following a path with enough wagon ruts in it that even Gina could recognize it as a regularly used road. From Landshut they left the road and struck out directly north through deep, trackless forests, where the trees dripped the remains of yesterdays storm onto their heads and shoulders until all of them were as wet as if it were still raining. In fact, the sky had cleared in early morning, and whenever they came to a break in the trees, the sun shone through the mist, making the very air glow with golden light, as if the forest were enchanted.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” Gina murmured. It was nearly midday, and Dominick had called a halt for eating and a chance to stretch their legs. He was standing next to her because the rocks and the ground were too wet for sitting. “I expect to see fairies pop out from behind every bush.”

  “In this part of Bavaria there are ancient legends about spirits of the trees and the waters,” Dominick said. “Not to mention tales about the Norns.”

  “Who are they?” Gina asked.

  “The Norns are three immortal sisters who sit beneath a great ash tree, forever spinning the threads of the lives of individual men and women into the ropes of fate.”

  “They really messed up the thread of my fate, didn’t they? I guess they spun it into the wrong section of rope.”

  “Or perhaps they made a mistake the first time and then corrected it,” Dominick said, his gaze holding hers. “I am certain of one thing, Gina. No mysterious, supernatural creature could possibly be more captivating or more magical than you.”

  “I hope you mean that.” She looked into his eyes and saw only warmth and desire, with none of the questions or mistrust she sometimes noticed in him.

  Abruptly his mood shifted to humor. “I warned you the journey would be difficult,” he said, teasing her.