Romance Through the Ages

by Amy Harmon

  He released a breath, lifted one of her hands, and kissed the knuckles hard. “Good, that is good.” He glanced up and grinned at her. “Particularly as I am not sure I was being honest and could let you go if you said otherwise.”

  She laughed. “Oh Kellen. I do love you. So much.”

  He took a deep shuddering breath, slipped the ring on her finger, stood, and swept her into his arms. He kissed her roughly on the mouth, holding her almost too tight, before gentling.

  A moment later he pulled back to study her expression and whatever he saw there made him smile. “You have made me very happy. I will make you happy, as well. I swear it.”

  He leaned in to kiss her once more and as she clung to him; she hoped his words were still true when he learned the truth. And she’d tell him. Just as soon as he stopped kissing her.

  * * *

  A long while later, Kellen’s head lifted and he glanced around. It took her a moment, but Gillian realized she heard voices and started to pull away, to move out of Kellen’s arms, but he wouldn’t let her go. He quickly stole another long kiss, and another, smoothed back her hair, then reluctantly released her, and stepped back.

  Peter’s voice called out. “Lord Marshall! Lady Corbett! Are you there?”

  Excited chatter from the foster boys gave Gillian the strength to finger comb her hair, press her fingers to her swollen lips, and ease back a few more paces before the boys rounded the corner.

  They let out a cheer when they spotted them. “There you are!” said Ulrick.

  Peter glanced between the two of them, one brow arching.

  Francis hooted at the sight of them. “We’ve searched everywhere for you! What have you been doing?”

  Kellen cleared his throat, and Gillian bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling as Kellen, still catching his breath, stumbled out a hearty greeting. “Just showing Lady Corbett the flowers in the garden.”

  Three faces crumpled in disgust. “Flowers!” said Francis.

  Kellen shot Gillian a wide-eyed look that said help me out; but she only smiled and glanced down, glad she wasn’t the only one flustered.

  It was good the boys had shown up. Kellen’s kisses were mind-scrambling, and they needed to talk. She needed to admit she was from the future, that she wasn’t Edith Corbett, and hope he still chose her. After his heartfelt proposal, she was starting to believe he just might.

  “Flowers are foolish!” said Peter. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you! Lady Marissa has sent everyone out searching, and we found you first!”

  “Ah, yes, very good, boys. You are clever indeed to have found us.”

  “Lady Marissa promised an extra tart after dinner if we did!” exclaimed Ulrick, but his brows suddenly furrowed. “Do you think she means us to share one, or to have one to ourselves?”

  Kellen’s expression was grave. “I’ll talk to her and make sure you each get one.” He winked at Gillian.

  Gillian, her heartbeat finally slowing, asked, “What does Lady Marissa want?”

  Peter grinned. “Oh, we did not tell you! Your family, come from Corbett Castle, have finally arrived! Lady Marissa and Lord Hardbrook had to wake from a mid-day nap to greet them without you, and she is quite put out at your absence. You must come quickly!”

  Francis nodded vigorously. “Before she changes her mind about the tart!”

  “My family is here?” Gillian’s voice trembled.

  Kellen turned to smile at her. “We are one step closer to being wed.”

  Fright had Gillian pressing a hand to her chest and she could actually feel her heart speeding, thumping. “But… but… you said it would take them three more days to get here.”

  He shrugged. “Mayhap they had already left. No matter, let us greet them.” He reached forward to rub Francis’s hair. “I am sure young Francis is glad to see his parents again, as well.”

  The boy smiled at him, but when the other boys took off running—yelling how they must tell Lady Marissa they’d found them first—he was quick to follow.

  Kellen helped Gillian put on her backpack, tucked her into his side, and they started walking. Cold inside and out, she didn’t resist, didn’t know what to do. Her heart beat rapidly, thudding in her chest as they left the gardens and headed toward the orchard. Her instincts told her to run and hide, but she was well aware it was too late for that.

  There was nowhere to go, and the moment she’d been dreading was upon her. She looked up at Kellen, who gazed down at her, a pleased and loving expression on his face and, again, though her throat had closed and her mouth was dry with fear, she felt a spark of hope.

  Maybe Kellen really would choose her?

  She swallowed and pulled to a stop. “Kellen, wait a moment. I… I… have something to tell you.”

  “And I am anxious to hear. I want to learn each detail of how you came to love me. I want you to assure my poor heart that I am not alone in this feeling.” He suddenly pulled her into his arms and gave her another long, mind-blowing kiss.

  When he finally broke it off, he pressed his forehead to hers for a moment, then smiled, grabbed her hand, and tugged her along. “We will talk later, without fear of interruption.” His smile widened. “Mayhap tonight?”

  “But… ” She let out a shaky breath. It was too late. She’d left it far too late and didn’t know what to say, anyway. She’d just have to face the music and see if Kellen chose her. The thought made her shiver.

  She stumbled and he caught her easily, smiling down at her, his expression excited, eager. “Careful, we do not wish your father to think you ill-used.”

  She sucked in a shuddering breath, nodded, and tried to return the smile. She’d never been so afraid in her entire life.

  Chapter Thirty

  When Kellen and Gillian entered the great hall, Tristan and Owen surged forward and tried to stop him, to tell him something; but he pushed past them, anxious to see Lord Corbett, and to assure the man he was a good choice for his daughter. To assure Lord Corbett that Kellen was well pleased with the match.

  All eyes turned toward them—Marissa and his father, Lord and Lady Corbett, their daughters, even Kellen’s knights and servants—and the silence was unnerving.

  Regardless, Kellen moved forward to warmly welcome Gillian’s family. He had no doubt Lord Corbett had taken great care to give Kellen his best daughter this time, so ’twas important to Kellen to show there were no hard feelings from the nastiness with Catherine. Now that Gillian was his, he could afford to be high-minded and forgiving. “Welcome, Lord Corbett. Lady Corbett. I see you have brought some of your lovely daughters, as well. You are all most welcome here.”

  Pandemonium ensued as everyone started speaking at once, or rather, yelling at once.

  Lord Corbett, his voice rising above the others, pointed at Gillian and demanded, “Who is this girl?”

  Kellen turned to look at Gillian who, rather than greeting her family stood stiffly next to him, clutching his hand, her face a mask of fear.

  Kellen quickly placed a comforting arm around her to protect her from her crazed family. First her sister Catherine had proved to be unsound, and now her father did not know his own daughter? Were she and her brother the only sane ones among them? Little wonder she’d arrived early. She had no doubt run away from home.

  Lady Corbett now yelled at Kellen’s father, who bellowed in return as he pointed repeatedly with his finger at one of the Corbett daughters. Another of the girls, a younger one, cried and carried on in the most irritating way.

  Kellen finally lost his temper. “Quiet! What is happening here?”

  Silence reigned for a few moments, then Lord Corbett, spittle dotting his lips and beard, pointed his finger at Gillian. “That is not my daughter, the Lady Edith Corbett.” He turned and pointed at one of the girls in the gaggle behind him. “That is.”

  Kellen followed the new direction of Lord Corbett’s finger to see a girl who closely resembled his dead wife. Instantly repulsed, he scowled. “I think not.
” Did the man think to renege on the betrothal and foist off an inferior daughter? Did he think to give Gillian to another? His arm tightened around her shoulders. He’d not give her up.

  Lord Corbett’s jaw thrust forward. “What is happening here? You think to go back on our agreement? You insisted you have another of my daughters. I had to break her betrothal to make it so. Now you do not want the girl and have replaced her with another? Do you seek revenge, after all?”

  Kellen looked at Gillian, then at Corbett’s daughter, at Lord Corbett, and then back to Gillian’s fearful expression. Lord Corbett may have gone insane, but he swore to himself he would never hold Gillian’s parentage against her. He lifted her chin and forced her to meet his gaze, anxious to reassure her. “Tell me they are lying and I will send them all away.”

  Gillian looked up at him, her gaze wide-eyed and afraid. She slowly shook her head.

  “Gillian?”

  * * *

  Gillian’s racing heart felt as if it might explode. “K-Kellen,” she stuttered, barely able to say his name. Face hot, she glanced around the room and could practically feel the weight of the hostile gazes drilling into her. Finally, she took a deep breath and tilted her head to meet Kellen’s worried gaze.

  “I-I’m not Edith Corbett.” Her voice, barely a whisper, broke on the last word. “My name is Gillian Corbett and I traveled through time. I-I’m from the future.” She swallowed hard. “I’m Lord Corbett’s granddaughter, seven hundred years from now. At least, I think I am.” She lifted a pleading hand to Kellen. “I wanted to tell you. I tried. I didn’t know how.”

  Kellen’s mouth parted and he looked at her and then at the others around him. “Is this entire family gone mad?”

  Gillian didn’t move, didn’t say another word, just stood frozen within Kellen’s arms.

  Kellen glared down at her. “You truly believe that girl,” he jabbed his finger in the air twice for emphasis, “is Edith Corbett?” Kellen gestured toward the beautiful girl Lord Corbett had pointed out. The girl straightened her shoulders as several of her sisters laughed and her mother’s expression turned especially snide and haughty.

  Gillian nodded, her heart pounding so hard in her chest it hurt. “Yes.” She took a gasping breath. “But if you’d rather ch-choose me, I-I’m okay with that.”

  Kellen didn’t respond for a moment, his expression colder and angrier as the seconds ticked by. He suddenly let go of her, took a step back, and thrust his fingers through his hair. “You deceived me? You are not the Lady Edith Corbett? You lied?”

  Gillian swayed on her feet. He wasn’t going to choose her. She could see it in his face. Despair sank deep within her. He’d just told her he loved her, and now was looking at her as if he hated her. Did people really only want her for what she could give them? Couldn’t he just love her because he did? “I am not Lady Edith Corbett,” she said again, trying to rein back tears.

  Marissa stepped forward and instructed her husband to remove Gillian to the chapel. “We will come to you when this discussion is decided.”

  Kellen’s father moved forward and gently took her arm. Gillian left with him, stumbling a few times as they headed out the doorway. Angry voices broke out once more behind them. She no longer cared what happened. All she could see was Kellen’s cold, angry, bitter face.

  She glanced back once, but tears blurred her vision. Apparently she’d been right to be afraid for her heart. If she didn’t come with money, he didn’t want her.

  * * *

  Kellen watched Gillian walk away and saw the betrayed look she cast him. It was as a knife in his gut. He was not the betrayer here, she was. Deceiving him, leading him on, lying to him. Just as Catherine had done.

  No, she was worse than his wife. At least Catherine had not attempted to sway his affections before trying to kill him. He felt as if his guts were being ripped out. His heart. And then to spout nonsense besides? He was simply at a loss, hollow, and empty as he watched her go.

  Lord Corbett started to yell again, demanding and grating, his voice curiously insubstantial as numbness spread throughout Kellen’s body. When Kellen ignored him, unable to think or care enough to form a reply, Marissa stepped forward to appease the man; and Kellen glanced at Edith, the real Edith, who looked so much like Catherine he had to turn away.

  He accepted that Gillian was not Lady Edith Corbett but was having a hard time believing Gillian was not still his, that she was not the girl he’d been given to marry. The girl he’d fallen in love with.

  Now he had to decide what to do. She’d lied to him, betrayed his trust, used him, and all he wanted to do was run after her and force her to admit she truly did love him.

  Again he compelled himself to look at Edith, who stared impassively back, her chin rising. She arched a brow in a disdainful fashion he well recognized and, again, he felt revulsion. His decision was made.

  He would not marry a woman he did not love. He would marry Gillian. Even if she was a lying, deceitful, double-tongued pretender. She had convinced him of her feelings, made him feel impassioned and alive, and she could bloody well continue to do so. She would keep her promises to him. He would insist upon it.

  Kellen looked at the door and wanted to follow Gillian and have this out with her. Whatever her purpose in coming here, he could not give up on the idea that she did love him. He could not believe their entire courtship had been a ruse. When she had told him earlier she loved him, he’d believed her, and the relief had fair weakened his knees.

  Regardless of her deception, he loved her still. But what of her true feelings? Her true motivations in coming here? He thought of her strange way of speech, so unlike anything he’d heard before. The pack she carried about so frequently. Was she a spy? A girl who sought to improve her station in life through marriage? A thief? He wanted to see her face as he asked these questions. He needed to know.

  His jaw ached as he clenched his teeth. Regardless of her answers, he would do whatever was necessary, including paying a fine to the king if he had to, but would marry none but her. If she did not love him, she could learn to do so. He would insist upon it. She was his.

  He looked at Edith’s stiff expression again and acknowledged he had been arrogant. He had thought one wife as good as the next so long as she gave him an heir.

  Not so. Gillian was the only woman for him. He could not be happy without her and would not give her up. Not only for his own sake but for Edith’s, as well. He was sorry for the humiliation she would suffer, but she also deserved better than a loveless match. He’d been on the other end of one of those before and it hurt.

  As Lord Corbett continued his rant, his finger now pointing repeatedly in Kellen’s direction, Sir Tristan and Sir Owen moved to stand beside Kellen, ramrod straight, in a show of support.

  Kellen eyed Edith one last time and shook his head. He would not give Gillian up. He looked at Lord Corbett, held up a hand and, when the other man stopped talking, Kellen informed him, “The wedding is off.”

  Lord Corbett gaped like a landed fish, his face blooming redder than before. “How dare you?”

  Kellen, uninterested in any discussion that did not involve Gillian, turned and headed for the doors; but Lord Corbett ran after him and grabbed his arm, fingernails digging into skin. Kellen reluctantly stopped and exhaled a pent-up breath.

  Lord Corbett, practically frothing at the mouth, shook Kellen’s arm. “You will marry my daughter! I had to break a betrothal with Lord Phillip’s son so you could have her.” Spittle flew. “It cost me much.”

  Kellen’s eyes narrowed and he bit out, “Only fitting as your eldest daughter cost me a son.”

  Corbett gaped and drew his hand to his chest. “But… but… you do not understand! He will not take her back. Only my alliance with you keeps Lord Phillip from attacking.”

  Marissa stepped forward, composed and serene. “Sir Tristan is in need of a bride, my lord. Might he not be persuaded to take her?”

  Edith’s mother burst into
tears.

  “My lord!” Lord Corbett sputtered. “Take her? Take her indeed! He should be so fortunate!”

  Kellen remembered Tristan mentioning how lucky Kellen was to marry an heiress and arched a brow at his friend. “Well, then?”

  Tristan looked at Edith, who eyed him back.

  Her coldly blank expression reminded Kellen of Catherine once more, so he stipulated, “Only if you are willing. I’ll not force the issue.”

  Tristan smiled. “Aye, if she’ll have me, I’ll take her and be glad of it.”

  Lord Corbett’s wife wailed and Lord Corbett sputtered, but Marissa raised her voice to be heard. “A marriage between Lady Corbett and Sir Tristan would be beneficial for all concerned.” She turned to Kellen. “Except, of course, there will be no dowry for you. It will go to Sir Tristan.”

  Kellen started forward again. “I care not.”

  Lord Corbett made a wild grab for Kellen’s sleeve. “I care! He has not your standing! He can offer me no protection against Lord Phillip.”

  Kellen shrugged him off. “You need not worry on that score. I will stand behind Sir Tristan.”

  Feeling the matter concluded, Kellen slapped Tristan on the back and headed out the door toward the chapel. He needed to find out just who it was he was marrying.

  As confused and angry as he was about Gillian’s identity, he did not wish to doubt her. There must be some explanation for her behavior. He thought of her strange speech again and wondered at her origins. In all his travels he had never come across such.

  No matter. He would solve this mystery and marry the lady. She was no doubt fearful and confused, and he meant to go to her with assurances that all would be well. He’d find out how she came to be here, who she was and, most important, if she really did love him.