After he dressed and ran his fingers through his long hair, yet again, another enticing scent wafted through the room, coming from somewhere beyond that door. At first, he thought someone might be making his breakfast because it smelled like bacon. However, Payton told him she was not his servant—that she didn’t serve anyone. So perhaps this house didn’t have servants and he would have to fend for himself. Yet that didn’t explain why she had made him a plate of food last evening.
She seemed nice last night, but he detected an underlining annoyance about her as though she was vexed with him for some reason. He’d tried to convince himself that her irritable mood was probably because she was tired.
He stretched one more time before leaving the comforts of his room. Today’s task would be to discover where exactly he was at and try to find his way back home.
Archer walked down the steps to the main level of the home, following his nose to where he smelled that wonderful aroma. This was the same room where he’d eaten last night. Once again, the only person in the room was Payton.
Today she looked a little more chipper. As she prepared bacon in a pan, and something else round that appeared like a liquid batter of some sort in another pan, she hummed softly as a smile touched her mouth. Her honey-brown hair was long, flowing over her shoulders with the loveliest curls he’d ever seen. From what he could tell, they appeared just as silky as his own hair felt. She must have used the same kind of liquid fragrance that he had.
When he stepped into the room, the floor squeaked. Her gaze bounced up to meet his, but then just as quickly, her attention ran over his length from the top of his head down to his feet. The color of her cheeks turned a pinkish color, and her mouth hung open. He thought he heard a sigh escape her throat, but he couldn’t be certain.
“Good day, Payton,” he greeted cheerfully.
“Good morning.” Her voice was low, so she cleared her throat, meeting his eyes again. “I hope you slept well.
Remarkably so. In fact, I cannot recall a time I had slept so soundly. I know not what kind of world this is, but everything is so comfortable.” He picked at his shirt. “Even the material is so soft.”
“You don’t say,” she answered quietly, her smile fading.
What had he said to make her smile leave? He wanted it back. “You look very lovely, dear Payton. You have such beautiful hair. I like it long instead of pulled back like you had it last evening.”
The color in her cheeks grew darker. “Uh, thank you.” She glanced at the pan. “Would you like some pancakes and bacon?
I fear I’ve never had pancakes, but bacon is very familiar.”
She turned to the cupboard and pulled out a plate, setting it near her as she returned to the pans cooking over a different looking fire. Why could he feel the heat coming from that contraption, and yet there were no flames? Indeed, this new world was very magical.
Once she placed the items on the plate and poured a dark brown liquid over the top, she handed the plate to him. As he took it, his fingers brushed against hers. A distinct quick intake of breath came from her just as her eyes locked with his. A different expression crossed her face. She didn’t appear to be upset, and neither was she frightened, and yet her eyes were wide. For a moment he thought she was confused about something.
“I thank you, fair maiden.” He winked. “If this tastes as wonderful as it looks, I shall count you as the greatest cook of all.”
She chuckled and withdrew her gaze, staring back down at the pan. “You are full of compliments this morning, aren’t you?
I only give them when they have been earned.” He walked back to the table and sat on the finely crafted chair. “Will you join me in breaking the fast?
Uh, sure.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the hesitation in her voice, but he waited patiently for her to fill her plate and sit by him. There were five empty chairs, and she chose the one right across the table from him. At first he wished she would have sat next to him, but then he realized this way he could gaze into her lovely hazel eyes. Enchanting eyes, to be sure.
Everything about this woman and the strange house she lived in seemed mesmerizing. Perhaps there was some kind of witchery going on since nothing made sense, and nothing seemed real.
She reached for the pitcher on the table and poured the orange liquid into her different looking goblet. When her focus met his, she lifted the pitcher to him.
“Would you like some orange juice?
What is the juice that is an orange color?”
One of her eyebrows rose skeptically. “Uh...oranges. You know, the fruit.
How interesting.” He nodded. “Would you pour me a little so I can taste it first?”
She did as he requested, and he brought it to his mouth and sipped. As it coated his tongue, he immediately knew this was something he’d never tasted before. He’d eaten many oranges, but never had it brought such delightful flavor to his mouth.
He held the empty cup up for her again. “I shall have more, if you please.
Sure thing.” She filled his goblet and set the pitcher back on the table. “So tell me about your life, Archer.
What would you like to know?
Tell me about the Crusades. Was it as bad as I’d heard?”
Archer dropped his gaze to his plate of food. Was it bad? There were no words to describe the anguish and suffering that he’d endured as well as the Turks. “I followed King Richard to Jerusalem, thinking it was the right thing to do. It took me a year before I realized fighting in the Holy Land was wrong. Forcing religion on people goes against all that is Holy. It goes against the free agency God has given us.” Hesitantly, he looked into her eyes. “I have seen more bloodshed in that war than I will in a lifetime. I have only been back six short weeks, but I continue to have night terrors about killing...and being attacked. I pray God ends the war soon and brings King Richard back to his throne where he is needed.
Yes, I suppose England just isn’t the same without him as their ruler.
Indeed. The country has gone to waste. During the king’s absence, his greedy brother has taken over.”
She took a bite of her bacon and chewed it, keeping her stare on his. Finally, she nodded. “Prince John?
Indeed. He is not a good ruler, and the poor people of England are paying for his neglect. When I had returned home, I discovered my father died while trying to protect our home, and that the Sheriff of Nottingham had appointed Sir Guy Gisbourne to oversee Loxley.” Archer shook his head. “That man was ruthless. Once I returned, however, I took over Loxley. It did not take long before I realized the sheriff and Sir Guy wanted me dead as well. I did not approve of the way they tortured my people, but I knew if I tried to stop them, they would take away my lands. I couldn’t do that to my people.”
She took a sip or her orange drink and swallowed. “What did you do to help your village?”
Chuckling, he bit into his bacon, savoring the taste on his tongue. Everything tasted so different in this land, and the food was much better. “I realized I needed to work for the sheriff as one of his guards. This, of course, gained me his trust, which I desperately needed. Then, little by little, I took money from him and dispersed it to the poor.”
The corners of her mouth lifted into a grin. “Are you telling me that you stole from the rich to give to the poor?
Indeed, I did. I suppose that makes me appear as an outlaw of sorts, does it not?”
She shrugged and took a bite of her pancake. “Yes and no. From the way I understand it, the rich were bad people, and the poor were simple folk trying to earn an honest day’s pay. The sheriff was stealing from them, so you just returned what was rightfully theirs.”
He took another bite of his bacon as he pondered over her comment. Only Peter had understood his motive, and it made his heart glad to see Payton recognized it as well. “You are astute, Miss Fox. I’m glad you can see the reasoning through my eyes.”
She leaned her arms on the table, still meeting
his gaze. “Do you remember last night when I’d asked you about Little John?
Yes, I recall that moment.
Don’t you know who he is?
Forgive me, but I have never met the lad.”
Chuckling, she shook her head. “He’s not a boy. He’s a grown man...a very large man, in fact. I thought he was your friend.
No, we have not met.
How about Will Scarlet? Or Maid Marion?”
Archer shook his head again. “No. I have not met those people.”
She took another bite of her food. “So tell me, what were you doing right before we met?”
Memories assailed him, bringing back the guilt of responsibility for his friend’s death. “I was in the courtyard. The sheriff was going to hang Mr. Gittens because the old man didn’t pay his taxes. My friend, Peter, was in disguise because he had defied the sheriff and was a wanted man. Peter couldn’t stand for anymore injustice and he freed Mr. Gittens. The sheriff’s men swarmed Peter, and I feared for my friend’s life.” He shrugged. “I thought to save him, but in doing so, I made everyone see whose side I truly fought for.” Sadness crept over him and he frowned. “And in the end, Peter saved my life but lost his own.”
Payton’s hand reached across the table and patted his. Instinctively, he grasped her tender fingers, not wanting to release the comfort her touch had brought.
“I’m so sorry to hear about Peter.
He was a good man with a kind heart.” He cleared his throat when it started tightening. “I shall miss him.” He shook away the emotion coming over him. “May I ask you some questions now?
Sure, shoot.”
He creased his forehead. There she goes, saying the oddest things again. Why would he shoot? And what, pray tell, would he shoot? “If you say we are not in England, then how are you asking me if I know certain people like Little John, Will Scarlet, and Maid Marion?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip while she pushed her fork around her plate. Her gaze darted around the table, but didn’t rest on him for a few minutes. Finally, she exhaled a deep sigh and met his stare.
“As difficult as this is to believe, it’s just as hard to explain.” She chuckled lightly. “You see, there is a story—a folklore—that’s about a man named Robert of Loxley from England who was famous for using his bow and arrow, and sword. The legend was that he fought in the Holy War with King Richard, and when Robert of Loxley returned home, his father was dead and the Sheriff of Nottingham had taken over all of Robert’s lands and title. Robert steals from the sheriff and gives the money to help the poor. The sheriff labeled him an outlaw, and they call him Robin Hood. Some of Robin’s men are Little John, Will Scarlet, and...” She licked her lips. “He loved a woman named Maid Marion who is the king’s cousin.”
Deep in thought, Archer traced his finger and thumb around his mustache and lower lip. How odd that there would be a story about his life, and yet he had not lived it all. “And you say there is a book about this?
Yes.”
Archer paused in thought. Part of him didn’t want to know about the legend of Robin Hood, but his inquisitive side couldn’t let this rest. “I find I would very much like to read this story. Will you find it for me?”
She nodded. Her eyes had a certain twinkle to them that softened his heart.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m sure I could locate one. There are several different versions. In fact, I might even have the DVD movie.”
He arched an eyebrow. “What is a DVD movie?”
She lowered her head and took another bite. “I’ll show you later.
I would be very happy if you did.”
After a few more seconds passed, she finally looked his way. “What plans do you have today?” she asked.
Plans? Why would she think he had plans in this very different world he’d somehow landed on? “Truth be told, I had wanted to find my way back home, but if you have another suggestion, I shall keep my mind and options open.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Actually, I was thinking since you look so good in your armor, and especially the historical clothes I found for you,” she motioned to his shirt, “perhaps I could take some pictures of you.
I fear, I don’t understand what you’re asking.
Finish your breakfast and I’ll let you watch me take pictures of one of my other models. Then you’ll better understand.”
By the mischief gleam in her eyes, he knew this was something he’d enjoy immensely, mainly because she would enjoy it as well. He hadn’t known her long, but already he figured out that making her happy pleased him immensely.
PAYTON HAD DECIDED last night, right before she finally fell asleep, that if this man was really Robin Hood, she’d make the best of her fairy tale hero while she had him. Of course, she really didn’t believe he was Lord Loxley, but he believed he was, so she must go with the charade.
For some reason this particular man in her life made her want to believe her wish had come true. Doubt still hung in her heart, but she figured she’d have fun with Archer, anyhow.
He’d looked so perfect...so much like a historical man while they sat together at breakfast, it was hard not to stare and drool while she ate her pancakes. He talked as if he was there in Robin Hood’s time. He fit so well in the period clothes she had made several months ago, that she knew she must use him as her model. Hopefully, he’d allow it. These would be some of the best pictures she’d ever take. She just knew it.
As she and her crew prepared the room for the shoot, Archer sat in the back and watched with wide eyes. Mary was awake and energetic this morning, just as she usually was after a good night’s sleep. Today’s photo shoot would only take a few hours. She didn’t want to exhaust her models and crew like she had yesterday. Calvin wasn’t here yet, but she figured he probably left with Jill last night, and so he wouldn’t be stumbling in for at least two more hours. The fool!
However, the crew busily prepared the other models. Jackie was the blonde bombshell who was in most of their pictures. She was fun and outgoing, and made the day fun. She was also very beautiful, and Payton noticed that Archer watched Jackie a lot.
Jealousy tugged at Payton’s heart, but she quickly dismissed the confusing emotion. What right did she have to Archer anyway? Just because she thought he was here because she’d wished him, didn’t mean that was what really happened. Besides, Payton had never thought of herself as a flashy woman, not like Jackie and the other models. Payton liked being a plain woman, and that kind of life suited her just fine.
When Mary put Jackie and Felix together for some shots, that’s when the giggling began. Jackie had always been ticklish, and the guys knew it. Soon, everyone laughed and joked with the models, which made things worse. Payton couldn’t get any serious shots, so she gave up.
“All right, it’s time for a break,” she called out. “We’ll start back up in twenty minutes.”
Blowing out a deep breath, Payton swept her hair off her forehead. She hadn’t felt like putting the bulk of her hair in a ponytail this time, mainly because of the flattering compliment Archer had given her at the breakfast table about having lovely hair. His kind words still hummed in her head, and she couldn’t stop the grin from tugging at the corners of her mouth. Not many times did men give her compliments, unless it was to tell her she’d taken great pictures of them.
Jackie walked by Payton and bumped her arm. “When do I get to work with the gorgeous new guy?”
Payton followed the model’s gaze toward Archer, who of course, was watching them. “Whenever he’s ready.
He looks ready now.” Jackie grinned and walked out of the room.
Archer stood and strode toward her. He definitely looked ready, just as Jackie had suggested. Then again, he didn’t have any other clothes to wear. When he reached her side, he stopped and took the camera away from her, studying it closer.
“How are you doing, Archer? Are you catching on to what I’m doing?” she asked, really not knowing what to say.
“I’m very confused and feel as though I’m in another world?” He laughed. “Other than that, I’m fine.
Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll take your picture.
I still don’t understand what you’re doing with this thing.” He bounced the camera on his hand, so she quickly took it away.
“Back in your world, did people paint pictures?
Of course. The monks painted a lot. Why do you ask?
This little object right here paints the pictures, except it gets the job done quicker.” She stepped to a table in the back of the room and opened a portfolio. “I took these pictures of Jackie and Felix a few months ago. I had the pictures ready the next day. This is how they turned out.”
He shook his head. “Truly amazing and unbelievable.
Yes, I’m sure it is.” Happiness filled her, knowing her work was appreciated yet again. “So do you want me to take your picture?
You will make me look like this?” He pointed to Felix.
“You can wear any costume you’d like, or you can wear what you have on now. It fits you perfectly, I think.” She glanced at his clothes again. Dang, she really needed to stop looking at him this way. He looked too delectable as a historic figure—and she really shouldn’t think this way about him.
“Will I be alone or will you put a woman with me?” he asked hesitantly, meeting her eyes once more.
“Any way you want.
What if I wish for you to be in the picture with me?” He pointed to a photo of Felix and Jackie in a romantic pose as they stared dreamily into each other’s eyes. “What if I want a picture like this? With you.”
An uncomfortable laugh sprang from her throat before she could stop it. Heat crawled up her neck and face. The mere idea of being held by this incredibly built man in such an intimate embrace, staring into his eyes like he was the only man on earth, made her blush in more ways than one. “No. I’m not a model, just the photographer. Sorry.”
Champion Page 4
