A Knight to Remember: Merriweather Sisters Time Travel (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 1)

by Cynthia Luhrs

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Reading List

  Want more

  About

  A Knight to Remember

  A Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Novel

  Book 1

  Cynthia Luhrs

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A Knight to Remember, A Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Novel

  Copyright © 2015 by Cynthia Luhrs

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to my fabulous editor, Arran at Editing720

  To my mom for believing in me.

  Chapter One

  Present Day - London, England

  With a quick peek around to make sure no one was paying any mind, Lucy Merriweather bent down to tie her shoe and kissed the ground. “Hello, England. I’ve waited a very long time to meet you,” she whispered.

  “Come along, Lucy, the car is waiting.” Lord Blackford, otherwise known as Simon Grey, peered over his shoulder in exasperation.

  One last peek at the private jet they’d boarded in North Carolina then Lucy looked to the heavens. Please let this trip take away my doubts. Really. It was too nice of a day to worry. Worries could always wait for another day. A smile tugged at her face as she practically skipped over to Simon.

  “Where are they?” Lucy rummaged around in the large messenger bag for a pair of blissfully dark sunglasses. A moment later she slid them up on her head as she settled into the plush, darkened interior of the waiting sedan.

  Things were moving too fast. It seemed like only yesterday a friend of her sister set Lucy up on a blind date. Surprisingly enough, the date led to a relationship and then a whirlwind three-month courtship, during which she often wondered why he’d chosen her. Simon was titled and rich and she was so very ordinary. They’d gotten along well enough. Then two weeks ago, after an argument about her not standing up for herself at work, he’d apologized, taken her to Duke Gardens and shocked the heck out of her with this fantastic trip. Maybe she’d been wrong about the state of their relationship.

  Could he be her very own knight in shining armor? She knew there was no such thing, but it was nice to dream. Throughout her five years at college, she’d learned that lesson over and over. Various dating trials and tribulations convinced her it would be sheer luck to find someone she cared for, but she had been doubtful she’d find someone who accepted the real Lucy.

  Then she met him. On the minus side of the running column in her head, Simon could be a bit distant and occasionally rude to those in the service industry. She’d decided to chalk up his behavior to her Southern upbringing versus his stiff-upper-lip English life.

  In the plus column, he was financially stable, treated her okay, and she liked him more than anyone else she’d met thus far in her life. And not that it should be a factor, but come on, he lived in England. Had the charming accent going for him.

  Simon was a real, living, breathing lord, and that was so much better than an imaginary knight. Given her luck, any knight she did encounter would not only be smelly but ride an even smellier horse and probably wear tarnished armor she’d end up polishing. All while worrying the roof over their heads would collapse on them while they slept. Dramatic much?

  So what if Simon didn’t make her heart go pitter-patter like the heroines in the books she secretly read on her e-reader? True love was a fairy tale. Airbrushed and marketed to make you think it was perfect so you would spend your life searching, only to find out it was a big fat scam. Kinda like seeing models and celebrities without makeup or Photoshop. What a letdown.

  Security trumped make-believe and passion every day of the week. Lucy sighed. She was already making excuses for him, and the whole purpose of this trip was to decide if she’d accept him, niggling worries and all, or end things and move on with her life.

  Twice she’d tried to end the relationship and both times he’d talked her out of it. Apologized for whatever it was that upset her and bought her flowers. The man could charm the trunk off an elephant when he put his mind to it. His single-mindedness, normally a trait she was in awe of, now filled her with nervousness. She’d seen the faded red leather box in his carry-on.

  Curiosity made her look. The glittering ring had to be the family heirloom he’d mentioned in conversation a few weeks back. The thing was enormous and gave her a panic attack just looking at it. Or maybe the panic attack came when she imagined if they stayed together…the weight of all those centuries of history pressing down on her until there was nothing left.

  A prickling sensation ran down the back of her ear, and she smothered a giggle at the ridiculous thought. What did she have to worry about? The ring wasn’t a factor yet. After all, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to stay with a man who didn’t give up his seat for a pregnant woman or grandmother. And she’d witnessed both. But then again, everyone had their quirks and flaws. This vacation was to help her decide what she really wanted in a partner.

  And so yesterday she’d boarded Simon’s jet, and now here she was. In England. A place she’d dreamed about for as long as she could remember. Longed to visit but never could afford. Too much late night British television convinced her England was where she belonged. Lucy pinched the skin in the crook of her arm and suppressed a yelp. Nope, not dreaming.

  “All right, darling?”

  Heat suffused her chest and face. “Fine. Must’ve banged my elbow on the door.”

  He patted her knee and went back to typing out emails on his mobile, leaving her free to soak up the scenery.

  Not wanting to look like a complete tourist with nose pressed to the glass, drooling on the sumptuous cream-colored leather upholstery, Lucy slid her sunglasses down to hide how wide-eyed she must look. So far England was everything she’d imagined and more. A glow of happiness radiated through her like the golden summer sun on Holden Beach back home as they drove through the streets of London.

  The ride to Simon’s home went by way too fast. The driver carried the luggage inside the old stone building. The juxtaposition of old exterior meets modern interior was jarring. The flat was as modern and uncluttered as the man. Eyeing the plush white carpet with a frown, she slipped off her shoes, sank in up to her ankles and proceeded to examine the expansive room. W
hite walls, chrome and glass tables. And, gulp, white furniture too. Guess there wouldn’t be any popcorn and red wine while she enjoyed her favorite television shows, unless she covered the pristine furniture with towels.

  The only signs of color came from the large abstract paintings and metal sculptures placed here and there, and huge windows overlooking the lovely boutiques and restaurants in Knightsbridge. How on earth did he keep the place clean? She’d been brought up with a housekeeper. Most Southern women had a cleaning service or housekeeper, but his cleaning lady must be amazing. Or maybe he was so neat he never made a mess. Better not ever let him see your craft room. Even the few magazines on the ugly coffee table were lined up with military precision. They didn’t look like they’d ever been read.

  “No pets?”

  “All that dreadful hair?” Simon shuddered. “I’m allergic. Had a fish once as a boy.”

  The sinking feeling in her stomach made Lucy stumble. No pets? She was planning on getting another cat after her beloved Doodlebug had passed away several months ago. Could she be with someone who didn’t like animals? Another item in the maybe column.

  With another dubious look at the white furniture, she hoped the sainted cleaning lady came every day. While Lucy didn’t like to leave dirty dishes in the sink, she certainly didn’t mind a bit of clutter to make the place look lived in. His space looked like the cover of a magazine. A light hand on her arm made her flinch, and she brushed away the worry.

  “It’s very white and modern,” she ventured.

  “I’m pleased you approve, darling. Shall we make our way to the shops after you’ve settled in?”

  “Yes. And tea. I’ve always wanted afternoon tea at Harrods.”

  “Certainly. There’s a new place I thought perhaps we’d try for dinner. Then tomorrow after luncheon we depart for Blackford Castle, so no lazing about in the morning.”

  Mentally congratulating herself for finally saving enough money for such a trip, Lucy happily pondered doing some serious damage at the shops. Simon insisted on paying for the trip, and she finally quit offering after he’d scowled at her, and simply decided to enjoy the trip. And really study the man in her life in his own habitat, so to speak.

  Hastily touching up her makeup in the luxurious, all-white marble bath, she stuck her tongue out at the reflection in the mirror. Cosmetics and brushes lay scattered across the counter as she dashed out to the living room, a pair of pretty but comfortable sandals dangling from two fingers.

  The shopping was everything she’d hoped for, the tea divine and dinner so delicious she swore she’d gained a pound. Simon was polite and charming and didn’t say a word when she ate all her dessert and half of his. Sprawled across a large chair, she reached down and unbuttoned the button on her pants. Much better.

  Introverted and quiet, she’d found dating nonexistent during high school and disastrous during college. Upon graduation she’d landed a job writing product documentation for a company located clear across the country. The company was small and it didn’t pay much, but she got to telecommute and set her own hours. Not dealing with traffic or a tiny, drab cubicle was worth making less money. Left to her own devices over the next year, Lucy found it easier and easier to withdraw from an agonizing social scene. Both of her sisters tried to get her to come out with them, to meet people, do things. But after the millionth time of begging her to join them, they finally got the message and stopped asking.

  A sharp pang hit her in the side, and she pressed her fist into the soft flesh to stop the pain. This was the first time Lucy had been outside of the United States. She missed her sisters, Charlotte and Melinda, and her Aunt Pittypat. Worried over losing them too. They were the only family she had left.

  Bright sunlight penetrated her eyelids. A muffled voice drew her attention. “…running out of time…it has to be Friday.” The sound faded and she blinked several times, yawning without covering her mouth. A quiet giggle left her lips before she looked toward the bedroom to see if he’d seen her. Nope. The crick in her neck and shoulders told her she’d fallen asleep in the chair last night. With a groan and several unladylike creaks, Lucy stood and stretched, her crochet hook and ball of yarn falling to the floor.

  “Good morning, darling. I didn’t want to wake you last night. You looked so peaceful where you were sleeping.” Simon kissed her cheek and handed her a cup of tea.

  The warmth slid down her throat, waking her fully as she looked him over. He was on the short side for a man, at five foot six. They were the same height. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care if she wore heels, making her taller than him. He had light brown eyes, honey-blond hair cut short and a lean runner’s body.

  Simon was nothing like Carl, the boyfriend of her oldest sister, Melinda. Carl was a grade-A jerk who hit on anything female, including Lucy and her youngest sister Charlotte.

  No, Simon never looked at other women.

  Add one to the plus column. When he turned on the charm, like yesterday when he ran into Lady Something or other he’d known as a child…my oh my, the man could beguile an alligator into becoming a vegetarian.

  Tea finished, she stood, mouth open, gazing at the shower. Somehow she hadn’t noticed it yesterday when they’d arrived. Three showerheads ensured she’d spend too much time luxuriating under the hot, soothing spray while Simon made more calls. He was part owner of a polo team. Maybe she’d get to take in a polo match while they were here. She wondered, was a fancy hat required to attend?

  Dressed and feeling like the fog had finally lifted from her brain, Lucy enjoyed the breakfast delivered that morning. Fruit and tea and a bagel. Still warm and smothered in cream cheese. Heaven. As she was starting on the second half, Simon cleared his throat.

  “No more bagels for a while.” He patted his flat stomach and looked her over. “Can’t let ourselves go to pot. I’ve noticed you’ve put on a bit of weight recently.”

  Hot all over, Lucy glanced down at the rest of the bagel on her plate, and with a longing glance pushed it to the side. She knew she wasn’t skinny. Maybe she could stand to lose ten pounds, but she wasn’t overweight. Average. Yep, totally average in body and looks. So why worry while they were on vacation? Not going to happen. This was her vacation and she planned to enjoy herself…when he wasn’t watching. Once she was back home, she’d buckle down and watch what she ate. She shot a guilty look toward the pot of hot chocolate on the counter and sat on her hands. When he was busy with work later then she’d enjoy a small cup. Men. The man probably forbade a single extra pound to adhere to his body.

  Relationships were about compromise. If they stayed together she’d have to step it up a notch. To be perfectly honest, she’d have to start exercising. Her idea of exercise was going for a leisurely walk, but Simon loved to play polo and tennis, run and go sailing. The thought of all that effort made her sneak a cup of the decadent hot chocolate and sip it while she finished getting ready.

  Simon took her on a brief tour around London before they headed out of the city in another big black sedan. The buildings gave way to adorable fairy-tale towns, and then to the greenest earth she’d ever laid eyes on. The idyllic countryside flew by, and she stayed turned in her seat to stare out the window. But she did not drool on the glass. Okay, maybe a little. Fluffy sheep grazed in pastures, horses pranced about, and the charming cottages with wildflowers growing everywhere made her lust over each and every one they passed.

  Oblivious, Simon spoke in low tones on his ever-present mobile. Lucy owned a phone but didn’t plan on turning it on until absolutely necessary. She’d called to let her sisters know she arrived safely and promised to call when she returned home. Content to enjoy the day, she soaked in every detail as they sped toward their destination.

  Simon ended the call and kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, darling. Dreadfully boring work details.”

  “Are we close to York? Is that where we’re going?”

  “Blackford is situated on the coast overlooking the North Sea. It’s about�
��let’s see, in miles, forty miles from York.”

  Lucy turned and snuggled into his shoulder. “The countryside is beautiful. Would you tell me about your family home? I don’t think we’ve ever talked about it.”

  “My ancestor took Blackford Castle by force from a traitor to the crown in 1307. The Grey family has held it ever since. It’s not a large castle. The majority of the buildings have fallen into ruin. Ghastly expensive to keep up the place.” He shifted, crossing his legs.

  “You own a castle?” Lucy gaped at him. Talk about one for the plus side of her boyfriend column.

  He reached up, placing a finger under her chin, and pushed her mouth shut. “Blackford was a Norman stronghold. Built in 1178. Each owner added on to the place until the castle was completed in 1313. It isn’t much to look at now, but back in its prime it was a forbidding place. A fortress. I hope you shall enjoy the old pile of stone.” Simon gave a small half-shrug, shifted in his seat again and patted her hand.

  “It sounds delightful.”

  “Useless is more like it.” He glanced at his mobile and went on. “Blackford was abandoned in 1317, and as time passed it was presumed to be haunted. Rather absurd in this day and age, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Before she could answer, he’d rolled down the window and shouted, “Come on, move along.” He leaned back in the window. “Fred, sound the horn. Get them going.”

  Sheep surrounded the sedan, ignoring the beeps from the horn. A young boy waved at them and tried to move the beasts along.

  “I’m sure they’ll be out of the way soon enough. It’s not like we’re in a hurry.”

  “Stupid kid,” he muttered.

  The wind made a keening sound and Lucy gulped, imagining a green lady appearing as she rounded a corner of the castle. She tugged his arm so he’d quit scowling out the window.