“Yes, I know you borrowed it. Of course that was my intent.”
His frown turned upside down and I took that as a good sign, until what he said sank in. “What do you mean it was your intent?”
Now he looked contrite. “Well, you see I needed you… here.”
He needed me. “Okay, I don’t get it. You needed me or need me?” He nodded his head in agreement to the last part of the sentence. “Okay, so you need me, as in right now?” He shook his head up and down in affirmation. “Well, I gotta tell you, I think I am someplace I really shouldn’t be…” I trailed off, and batted my wet hair from my eyes. “You already know this don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I’m here because you need me to help you fix something about the…” My stomach churned.
“The Dark Knight, Darias,” he supplied helpfully.
I sat back in the chair and my mind began to reel again. Nothing made sense. What made me so special? Why was I the one he needed? My stomach roiled. There were too many questions and not enough answers. “I don’t feel too good.” I pushed up from the chair. “Ah, I will be back.” I ran into the bathroom and shut the door.
MEMORIES DO NOT ALWAYS FADE
HAWTHORNE MANOR * ISABELLE
LAUGHTER of two young girls echoed in Isabelle’s mind. She stared at the locked door and laughed out loud. The sound of her voice was unrecognizable. She suddenly found her situation hilarious. She laughed and laughed at the door. Just a simple, silly, stupid door, kept her trapped. And now the ones that were closed for so long within her mind began to open. She closed her eyes and walked through one.
MEMORY * RAVENHURST *THE PAST
“Isabelle? Is he not handsome?” Victoria gushed excitedly. Isabelle looked over at her brother, Clive. His light brown hair fell lazily to the side, and his blue eyes lit up with laughter, even though she knew something dark lay just beneath the surface. “I do not see it,” Isabelle countered.
Victoria grabbed her hand. “How can you not? See… look how everyone clamors for his attention? They are hoping for a moment of his time.” Her face flushed excitedly.
“Like you?” Isabelle said meanly.
“Fine, so I might have a little crush on your brother, so what?”
Isabelle watched her best friend in the world stare longingly at her brother, her violet eyes begging him to notice her. Victoria was absolutely beautiful. A ribbon held her black hair loosely back and tiny tendrils escaped the confines, blowing gently in the soft breeze. “Little? Do you not mean huge?” Isabelle teased.
She could not help herself. Clive was not a nice person. And he certainly was not good enough for the likes of Victoria.
Victoria turned hurt eyes on Isabelle.
“I am sorry.” Leaning forward, she hugged her friend. Clive caught her eye, and without saying a word, beckoned Isabelle to send Victoria over to him. She tried to say no with her eyes, but he lifted his brow, daring her to deny him. She turned away quickly and immediately complied. “Victoria? Clive would like to see you,” Isabelle said sadly, not able to meet her friend’s gaze.
“Are you certain?”
Isabelle nodded.
“Do I look all right?” She smoothed her hair.
“You look wonderful,” she assured her. “You always do. Now go, before he gets tired of waiting for you.”
“All right.” Victoria took a huge breath, and waited for a moment more.
Isabelle gave her a reassuring smile.
Victoria beamed back at her. “Thank you.” And then she ran over to Clive and sat down beside him.
Clive lifted his head and looked directly at Isabelle, a triumphant look on his face.
Isabelle narrowed her eyes and stared back at him burning with all the hatred she felt. He smiled then, and the side of his lip curved up just a bit, as he raised his brow. He was playing chicken with Isabelle. A shiver of cold fear ran up her spine and she had to turn away.
He won again.
‡
Isabelle’s head fell forward, and then she jerked it back, waking once more.
THIS TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE
RAVENHURST
A BURST of warm air hit me in the face when I returned to the room. A log tumbled further into the fire, hissing and crackling. My guest from earlier was still seated in one of the chairs, staring at the flames. He had his leg bent, resting across his knee. The high polish on his boots reflected the fire like mirrors. Taking an unsteady breath, I walked over and sat back down in the opposite chair. At least the damn thing had stopped moving.
“Katherine, dear, are you feeling any better?” he questioned with concern.
“Yeah, I think. Sorry about that… umm…,”
“Milford,” he supplied helpfully.
“I’m sorry Milford, but I kind of missed what you were trying to explain to me before… about being here?” My fingers dug into the chair arms. “I gotta tell you something Milford.” I leaned in. “I think I am somewhere that is just not… right.” I widened my eyes to stress my point.
Milford lifted his hand and waved away my comment. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said, sounding a bit impatient.
“You know?” I didn’t know why that surprised me. Of course he knew.
“Yes,” he clarified again. “Now, I have some rather interesting things to tell you, a story from a long time ago.” He paused once more and then took a breath. “Before I start I would like to apologize for my part in this,” he stated sincerely.
“Oh—kay,” I said slowly. The look he was giving me made my heart thump faster. I had a feeling whatever he had to say, it wasn’t going to be good.
Milford leaned back into the chair and cast his world-weary gaze into the fire. “As a young lad, I was picked to squire for the most esteemed knight in all the land, the Raven Knight. His name was Darias, otherwise known as the Destroyer. The raven was his coat of arms. Just like the raven, he was renowned throughout the land for his strategic maneuvering in battle. He could swoop in, waylay his opposition efficiently, quickly, and disappear without a trace. He inspired many and was feared by all. He devoted himself to the king and the land he fought to protect,” he said.
“It was a rare privilege to squire under a knight such as Darias. I took my duty very seriously. He was my master, my mentor. He was everything a lad could ever hope to be or become. The man was tireless and though few knew, he was fair and just. He only wanted a simple existence, to live in harmony with the land about him. Everything was as it should be until that fateful day. That is the day everything changed….”
A flash hit me with such force, I had to close my eyes from the pain. Milford’s voice faded further away, until I could no longer hear him. It didn’t matter. I knew what happened. Tears flowed from my eyes. My heart hurt. The knight, his anguished cries, haunted my mind. It was horrible.
Milford leaned forward and patted my arm once he finished his story. I turned my blurry, tear filled gaze on him as the knight’s cries finally faded from my mind. I let out a sad, breathy sigh, unable to speak, and shook my head back and forth.
He pursed his lips together and gave me a contemplative stare. “I am sorry,” he said again. “I fear I have made a mistake in bringing you here.”
I wiped away my tears and swallowed hard. “No, it’s not that. It’s just such a sad story.” My voice quivered.
“Yes it is,” he agreed. “Do you think you are up to the task then?” he asked, and a glimmer of hope filled his eyes.
“I can try.”
He smiled then, and the bone crushing sadness lifted a bit more which spurred my resolve. “What do you need me to do?”
“That is the million-dollar question.”
I blinked at him. Huh? “What is the million-dollar question?”
“Whether you will be able to do what must be done. I am afraid it is up to you. This must be your decision. I can not interfere.”
“I don’t understand. You brought the necklace to me,” I argued.
> His expression turned thoughtful. “I know, but you ultimately made the decision to wear it. I did warn you,” he added with a pointed look. “I fear I have given you a lot to sort through, perhaps you would like to be alone, gather your thoughts.” He uncrossed his legs and stood up.
I noticed he looked like he was ready to bolt. What the hell? “Right… I mean, you are right. I took it upon myself to wear it.” But I didn’t know it would send my ass catapulting back through time. I wanted to say, but didn’t. Instead, I merely shook my head in agreement.
He took a step towards the door, then paused and turned back towards me. “I hope I have not overwhelmed you.”
Why yes, yes you have. I wanted to grab his coat, tell him to wait, not to leave me just yet. Instead I blurted out, “I can’t leave?”
Milford’s face went slack. “No. Not for a while I am afraid.”
“So I’m stuck here… in the past?” I asked, even though I wasn’t too sure I wanted to hear the answer to that particular question.
Milford tugged on his jacket, obviously uncomfortable with the question. “I believe so.”
“Oh my GOD!” Okay, calm down. It can’t be real. I am just having a very lucid dream… I blamed the alcohol. It was making me have one hell of a dream. Tomorrow I would wake up in my apartment and none of this would have even happened. I didn’t know why, but that thought made me even sadder than I was moments before.
“I may not be able to give you all the answers you seek but I can tell you one thing.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Yes, what is it?”
“Everything will turn out the way fate intends.”
WHAT? “What does fate have to do with this?”
He smiled sadly. “Everything… Fate has everything to do with this… and of course a smattering of chance gets mixed in to make things really interesting.” He forced a smile at me.
“Okay then.” Of course, none of this was okay. It was freaking crazy—or am I crazy?
“Get some rest,” he said. “I promise everything will become clearer in the morning.”
“What… you are leaving… just like that?”
He released a weary sigh. “I can not leave… at least not for a very long time. I will be here to direct you, if I can.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small piece of paper, and handed it out to me.
I took the paper and gave him a questioning look.
“You may not want to read this tonight, but it is a clue to the legend, if you can figure out the riddle.”
“Oh—kay,” I said slowly. “I think I need to sleep on this. I am sure everything will make more sense in the morning.” I held the paper tightly in my hand.
“Yes, I believe you are right, you do need sleep.” He looked down at me with a saddened look on his face. “Fate…” he trailed off.
“What about fate?”
“She is a fickle wench,” he mumbled despondently. And with that, he turned on his heel and left the room without another word.
THINGS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM
RAVENHURST *
THE following morning… Sebastian lifted his hand and covered his eyes to block out the light. He was still abed, a sheet barely covering his naked body, his long muscular legs tangled in the folds. He did not sleep well. Hearing Marguerite’s confession with his own ears was more than he could take.
He laughed out loud—it was hollow… bitter. How could she rub his face in the fact she actually thought the wastrel she left him at the altar for, would be back for her. Was she mad? She had to be if she expected him to stand idly by, while the rakehell returned for her, stealing not only his bride but also his inheritance. No, not bloody likely.
Regardless of what she thought, Sebastian knew better. He could envision quite clearly, what must have transpired between the two. Luckily, for her, the knave returned her to a place where she might be cared for. Many other women found themselves in similar circumstances, awash in promises of love and marriage until the wastrel took the prize. Marguerite was fortunate. Most ruined women ended up on the streets, selling their bodies for a living.
Angrily, he tossed the covers off and climbed from the bed. He was not sure why he felt so angry. Did it truly matter? He looked out the window at the early morning sun. His mind was set. He would marry her and then take himself off to London.
He closed his eyes against the sun, allowing the heat to warm his skin as he tried to block her from his mind. Instead, an image flashed unbidden of Marguerite, the sun revealing her beauty to him through the flimsy fabric of her prim little gown.
His body reacted, betraying his mind once again. He turned purposefully away from the window, fully intending to douse his ardor in an icy, cold bath. “Bloody hell!”
‡
The sound of birds squawking outside the windows woke me from my very strange dream. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains. I rolled over, feeling a little sad to be awake. Now, I would never know how my dream ended. Opening my eyes, I yelped. The gang of cherubs stared down at me, taunting me with their beady little eyes. I lifted my finger and poked one right in his sneering little face. It only seemed to sneer more. I backed out of the bed while keeping a watchful eye on them.
I knew I was being ridiculous, but hey, if I could travel back in time why couldn’t little ugly cherubs come to life too?
Mentally, I stuffed a little reminder in the corner of my mind to watch my back when I was around them, just to be on the safe side. I would have to ask Milford about them later, but in the meantime, I quickly untied the curtains so they fell over their faces. Satisfied, the ugly bastards were covered, I turned and looked around the room to make sure nothing else was giving me a death dagger stare. Thankfully, it looked clear.
Well, that answered that. I wasn’t dreaming. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed I tried to sort out what I remembered from the night before. Granted, I was pretty drunk by the end of the night but I certainly remembered him. He was an unbelievably handsome man… and he, correction, the Earl, thought that I was his fiancée? What were the odds? And what of Milford? He was the man with the necklace who had come to my work, and he was what? A butler from the past?
I laughed out loud.
It began as a small little sound, and then came out harder ‘til my eyes teared up. This was good. I was living in an alternate reality that rivaled some of the best movies I had ever seen. What were the odds?
I ran my fingers through the ends of my hair and worked the knots from the length as I tried to get my near hysteria under control. After I pulled out most of the knots from my hair, I came to a decision. It was simple really. I may as well embrace my moment of insanity and act the part, just like one of the heroines in my favorite movies.
Maybe I should act like Bella in Twilight…. “No, too needy—Sorry Bella,” I said, fighting down another hysterical bubble of laughter. Besides, I was in the past. No Vampires or Wolves that I knew of… just a hot Earl who had a problem keeping his real fiancée around and now, has a bad case of mistaken identity.
“Who should I act like?” I tapped my chin in thought as I scanned the room for some kind of inspiration. My gaze settled on a little blue leather-embossed book I had seen on the bedside table earlier. It was Vanity Fair, and gave me an epiphany. I knew who I should act like, Reese Witherspoon when she played Becky Sharp, in Vanity Fair, the movie. Her character was strong, resourceful, imaginative, and super sexy… “Right,” I snorted out a deprecating laugh. Fine. I may not be super sexy but I could certainly be all the rest. At least I hoped I could pull it off.
The legend Milford told me about seemed like more of a sad love story, really. Did I miss something? I couldn’t help but wonder that I must have. Where were these ill-begotten treasures? Why was everyone after them?
Well, besides the obvious reasons.
What did this Marguerite girl have to do with them? What about the necklace? I rubbed my temples. Seriously, I must have missed a gargantuan part
of the story, because there was so much I did not understand. And what the hell was my part in all of it? Why was I the chosen one? What made me so special?
I was tempted to jump under the covers until I re-awoke in my own world. But what if I did? Would I remember any of this? Would I wish I was here, instead of in my own bed? Obviously, it was a no-win situation.
Suddenly, I remembered the story Milford relayed about the necklace. Surely the necklace was what brought me here and must have some kind of mystical properties. Granted, the sane part of my brain, knew how far-fetched that sounded, but really, I was in Victorian England, betrothed to some hot Earl who was also a bit of an egomaniac. So my brilliant deduction really couldn’t be that off base. Standing, I walked around the room while my brain sifted through answers to my many questions.
“If I was a magical necklace where would I be?” Instinctively my gaze went directly to the “Narnia” looking wardrobe. “Nah, it wouldn’t be there.” Besides, for some strange reason I didn’t want to get too close to that thing… it kind of gave me the heebie jeebies. The gilded dressing table looked like a good place to start, so I walked over to it. There were lots of bottles and small trinket boxes but as I opened the last one, I found that none held the necklace. Being methodical, I moved over to the bureau. I was only going to look in the wardrobe as a last resort. I stopped in front … waiting. I wanted to make sure I didn’t get a weird chill again like I did with the wardrobe.
“Nope… it’s good!” I pulled the top left drawer open and rifled through several pairs of gloves. There were so many different kinds. Long elegant evening gloves, short ones, and leather ones all in different colors and lengths but no necklace. I shut the drawer and moved on to the next. Fancy ribbons, dozens of them, filled this drawer.
A Knight Such as This: Enhanced with Interactive Content: (Time Travel Romance) Book 1 & 2 (Ravenhurst Series) Page 9
