Return of the Rose

by Theresa Ragan

  Bloody hell, he thought after consuming a fair share of the drink. Even the strong ale failed to erase the image of Lady Amanda’s velvet lips descending upon his. The notion that his betrothed aroused him even after hearing her tales of being from another world made him question his own sanity. He slammed the empty horn to the scarred table, scowling at the innkeeper as the elfish man hurried to refill it.

  There seemed to be no cure for his ailment. Damnation to all women. Particularly Amanda or Morgan…or whatever her name be this day, he thought bitterly. He planned to erase all memories of the noble wench before returning to Braddock, for he was sure she would be gone when he returned. She had run away before and there was naught to keep her from doing so again. A knot formed in his gut as he realized that the thought of never seeing her again was what troubled him most.

  ~~~~

  By the time Morgan awoke, shafts of sunlight had broken through the clouds. She dressed quickly in a kirtle of pale yellow. Over that she put something called a surcoat, a light golden brown fabric with gold embroidered trimmings. She was a quick learner. And Odelia, believing she suffered from memory loss due to her head injury, was an admirable teacher.

  As she descended the narrow staircase, Morgan realized this was the first time she’d left her room without Odelia at her side. She could’ve waited for the maid but she was anxious to get outside. It was a beautiful day. And besides, she had no idea how long she’d be staying in this century. The hardest thing about living here, she decided, was having no sense of time. Too bad she hadn’t been wearing a watch when her t-shirt had become snagged in the Earl of Kensington’s armor. No watch, no makeup, no convenient items to prove her allegations.

  She stopped in her tracks and her eyes widened.

  I was not wearing a watch when I was stuck to the earl’s armor.

  Her mouth dropped opened. Why hadn’t she thought of him before? The Earl of Kensington. He could very well be the answer to her problem.

  If she recalled correctly, he’d lived during the fifteenth century. Emmon had said the year was 1444. The same year the Earl of Kensington had supposedly been killed in an ambush.

  That’s why she was here! For the first time since she’d been swept through time, it all sort of made sense. Time travel, of course, was a crazy unthinkable notion, but here she was, in a strange time with no inkling as to why. Until now. She needed to find the Earl of Kensington and warn him of the ambush before it was too late. Her heart soared at the possibility that she’d been sent to this century to save the earl’s life. She took the stairs two at a time as she envisioned seeing her very own metal man, a familiar sight in an unfamiliar world. She would find him!

  “Good day, my lady,” Matti said, pulling Morgan from her thoughts as she was greeted by the older woman on the landing.

  They had met once before, Morgan realized. Matti was Hugo’s wife. “Please, call me Mor…I mean Amanda. And that goes for all of you,” Morgan said to the castle folk within earshot. Her cheeks heated at the thought that all these people knew what had transpired between her and Lord Vanguard. Did they think she was crazy? Were they angry with her for supposedly defying their lord by running off in the forest?

  Matti took hold of her forearm and gently pulled her aside. A note of kindness touched her voice. “You have no need to fret, my lady. ‘Tis only a loyal few who know the extent of your conversation with Lord Vanguard.”

  Morgan smiled weakly, surprised by the woman’s perceptiveness.

  “Is it true you believe you are not Lady Amanda, or is it as his lordship says?”

  Morgan’s palms began to sweat. “What does he say exactly?”

  “That you play childish games and wish only to be with your lover.”

  Matti didn’t beat around the bush. Morgan chewed on her bottom lip, wondering what she should say. If she told Matti the truth, that she was Morgan Hayes from the future, Matti would think she was either a liar or a nutcase. If, on the other hand, she told Matti she was Lady Amanda, she would be a liar, and a contemptible person for dishonoring their lord by running away in the first place.

  Matti raised a hand before she could answer. “I apologize. I should not have asked. Verily I only wished to talk with you for a moment.”

  Thankful for the reprieve, Morgan followed Matti across the keep, away from curious eyes and ears.

  “As you are most likely aware,” Matti said softly, “Lord Vanguard is highly respected and greatly loved here at Braddock. To an outsider he might seem a bit gruff, but to the people that know him best, he is…” Matti chuckled lightly. “I must say, now that I think on it, he is extremely gruff, even to those of us who love him most.” She placed a hand on Morgan’s arm again. “But he is also devoted and unselfish with those he cares about.”

  Obviously the woman wanted Morgan to like their lord. “I saw him rescue those children in the village,” Morgan said. “I’m sure he’s a good man, but—”

  “You must understand ‘tis not an easy life he’s had,” Matti interrupted.

  He has a wonderful castle, Morgan thought, people respected him, and he was gorgeous…what could be the problem?

  “Lord Vanguard was once a happy child,” Matti continued determinedly. “His laughter used to fill these castle walls, at least until he realized he would never have what he yearned for most…his mother.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She left when he was but eight years of age, for reasons only God can judge.”

  “What about his father?”

  “Simon Vanguard had never been a doting father, but once Lady Vanguard left, it was Lord Vanguard who received the blunt end of the stick. Simon did unspeakable things to the boy, even went so far as to lock him in an old trunk for more than a day after Lord Vanguard asked about his mother. Never did Simon look the lad in the eye when speaking to him, nor did he ever tell his son he loved him. Verily it gives me gooseflesh to think of it.”

  Tears welled in Matti’s eyes as she shook her head. “By the time Simon passed away, Lord Vanguard had become hardened by life’s cruelties. Some say our Lord is void of heart, but Hugo and I know otherwise.”

  Morgan had never thought of parents in this light before. The mother abandoning her child…she could relate with that aspect of Lord Vanguard’s story. But to think Derek grew up with a true biological parent who physically and verbally abused him. No wonder he seemed so cold…so distant. It would have been better to have no parents at all.

  Morgan could see that it pained Matti to remember such horrible times. She took Matti’s hand in hers. “Thank you for telling me. It must be hard. Caring for someone that way and yet not always being able to help.”

  ~~~~

  Matti nodded and after Lady Amanda excused herself, she watched her ladyship walk off. A tap on her shoulder caused Matti to look behind her.

  “How did it go?” Hugo asked.

  “She seemed genuinely concerned. I do believe we have our work cut out for us though.” She watched Lady Amanda stop to chat with a small child before disappearing through the castle’s main entrance.

  “Emmon will be watching her,” Hugo said.

  Matti sighed. “Emmon still holds a grudge and might fail to watch her properly. Our plans to see Lord Vanguard and Lady Amanda married would be for naught.”

  Hugo rubbed a callused thumb over Matti’s cheek. “I had a long talk with Emmon and thus give you my solemn vow that our youthful friend will see Lady Amanda home safely.”

  Matti turned to her husband and regarded him fondly. “No one in his right mind would fail to honor thy husband’s request. Is that not so?”

  Hugo’s chest puffed. “‘Tis so indeed and good to know that my wife has finally seen the moon in its full light.”

  “Good indeed,” Matti said with a smile.

  ~~~~

  Morgan stepped outside and breathed in the light fragrance of dogwood violets and trilliums. She followed the beaten path, deciding to go to the village and look
for the little boy she’d helped save. She would ask the villagers if they’d seen a woman resembling herself or maybe someone could tell her where she might find the Earl of Kensington.

  She passed by endless stone walls, massive towers surrounded by lush greenery, and well-manicured gardens. The clanking of iron against rock could be heard in the distance, not to mention the squawks of chickens as they ran underfoot.

  As she neared the outer gates, a guard leaned over the tower and shouted, “You there, state your name!”

  “Lady Amanda,” she called back.

  “Lord Vanguard’s betrothed?”

  Before she could answer another guard shouted, “Who do we have there, Jacob?”

  “‘Tis the lady who ran off to be with her lover,” the first guard answered.

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “It’s just a rumor. I never ran off and I don’t have a lover.”

  The second guard stepped into the bright daylight, elbowing his partner in the gut. “Of course not, my lady. Many apologies for Jacob’s insolence. Go on. You may pass.”

  As she walked off she could hear them arguing.

  “Why did you let her go? I promised Hugo I would not let her through the gates unescorted,” Jacob said.

  “His lordship ordered that she be allowed to roam free at all times,” the other man argued. “Let her go.”

  “She will not be safe.”

  “‘Tis not our concern.”

  Lord Vanguard had told her straight out to stay put. Why then, Morgan wondered, had he told the guard to let her pass? When she was far enough away, she gazed back at Braddock. The castle wasn’t crumbling and faded like castles she’d seen in the history books. Nor was the castle as colorful and illuminating as depicted in modern films. Braddock was bold and dynamic, bespeaking power, like its master.

  As she continued her walk, her thoughts turned to her conversation with Matti. She thought of Derek as a boy, frightened and alone, wanting nothing more than to be held in his mother’s arms. Maybe Lord Vanguard was just a lonely soul like herself. He sure wasn’t as ferocious as everybody liked to think. His kisses were proof of that. Or maybe she was just making too much out of a few kisses.

  Somberly she wondered what her mother was doing now. She missed their morning talks over coffee and even her mother’s constant meddling. At the age of eighteen, she had moved to an apartment of her own, but her mother had been lonely and had begged her to move back home and save her money instead. As a dark shadow of a hawk swept across the path overhead, she glanced upward in time to see a man lunging from the higher branches of a tree.

  She screamed, but the man clamped a hand over her mouth. She bit down as hard as she could.

  “Bloody hell, woman!” He jerked his hand back and peered disbelieving at the teeth marks embedded in his palm. “‘Tis me, Robert!”

  Her eyes widened at the mention of his name. She took a good look at the young man, noting his scarlet cape and green tights. He must be Amanda’s lover, the man Odelia had mentioned on more than one occasion.

  “I’m sorry,” she said gesturing toward his wounded hand, “but you scared me. I thought you were Robin Hood!”

  “‘Twould seem my enthusiasm at seeing you has caused me to act foolishly. I should have warned you first of my presence.” His apologetic expression turned to a look of perplexity. “Pray tell, who is Robin Hood?”

  “A legendary English man in tights who steals from the rich and gives to the poor.”

  “I have not heard of him.”

  “It’s not important,” she said, “but I think he dates back to the 1300s. Does the ‘Sheriff of Nottingham’ ring any bells?”

  “Why is it that you can no longer speak properly?” he asked.

  “Because I’m not who you think. I’m not Amanda.”

  He stepped closer and took her hand in his. “You are lovely even when you are babbling nonsensical rubbish. Being away from you this past year has only served to make my love for you grow stronger. I have missed you.” Swiftly and without notice, he drew her snug against his chest and held her tight.

  Who did the men in this century think they were? And why couldn’t Amanda’s lover see that she wasn’t Amanda at all? More discouraged than ever, she pushed away from him. The hurt she saw in his eyes almost made her feel sorry for him.

  “Amanda, what has happened? What has that depraved man done to you? I need to know.”

  “You must listen to me, Robert. I’m not who you think I am. I’ve heard about the love you and Amanda have for each other. That’s why you need to find her. She’s probably out there somewhere waiting for you.”

  He hardly flinched at the sincerity of her words. She was beginning to see the hopelessness of convincing him or anyone else of her cataclysmic experience. “My name is Morgan Hayes,” she said wearily, “and I’m from another time…the year 2011.”

  “We both know you are an atrocious liar.” A smile tugged at his lips and his hands fell to her shoulders. “You listen to me now. Your father’s people are forgiving and their love for you is deep. If you leave with me, they will understand.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know why you are doing this,” he said. “‘Twill only serve to destroy us both, can you not see that? I beseech you to come with me now before it is too late.”

  “I can’t,” Morgan said. “But for Amanda’s sake and mine, you must find her. She’ll have the answers you’re looking for.”

  “You are a stubborn woman, my love. Surely you know I will not give up until you are out of that man’s ruddy clutches.”

  “Whose ruddy clutches?”

  “Vanguard’s, of course; who else?” He studied her critically. “Could it be that you have not been held prisoner these past days as I feared?” This time when he stepped close he took her firmly about the waist.

  She was beginning to feel like a rag doll the way he kept pulling her into his arms as if she had no say in his handling of her. His well-trimmed goatee scratched her cheek. Robin Hood was getting on her nerves.

  “Do my eyes dare deceive me?” he went on. “Can it be that you plan to go through with this marriage? Tell me ‘tis not so.”

  She had a headache and her eyelid began to twitch again. Here she was in another time, with yet another good-looking man who thought she was Amanda. “Never a dull moment,” she said before digging her heel into his foot.

  “Saint Dunstan’s Tongs!” he said, wincing in pain and hopping on one foot. “‘Tis him, is it not? I will kill him; I will.”

  Morgan plunked her hands on her hips. “I’m tired of all this talk. Why won’t anyone listen to what I’m trying to say? Men. Overbearing control freaks, all of you. Medieval, modern…it doesn’t seem to matter.”

  “You are coming with me,” he demanded, ignoring her completely.

  “This is the last time I’m going to tell you. I’m not Amanda. I am Morgan Hayes. Read my lips.” She stepped closer with each word until he was forced to take a few steps back to avoid a gouged eye or worse. “Nobody’s going to tell me what to do or when to do it. Not the men I meet back home; not the conceited, cocky gladiator at Braddock; and certainly not you, Robin Hood.” She gave him her best don’t-hassle-me-buster look and then walked off.

  “You are not yourself, that much is certain,” he called after her. “But my love for you is stronger than all of England’s love for their king. My life is nothing without you, Amanda, and I vow unto you this day that I will not give up until you are in my arms where you belong!”

  CHAPTER 5

  “What do you mean you’re not sure where Lady Amanda is?” Hugo asked.

  Her ladyship’s maid, Odelia, looked from Hugo to Lord Vanguard, her face haggard from worry. “‘Twould seem Lady Amanda has taken a walk, my lord. Methinks she will return shortly.”

  Lord Vanguard sat askew within his chair, his elbow propped precariously upon the table in front of him, expressly confident and cocksure that neither Odelia nor Hugo co
uld bring forth Lady Amanda. “It seems to me,” he drawled, his speech the tiniest bit slurred, “that your lady of such lofty virtues has chosen to run away once more…”

  “She’s here, she’s here!” an excited maid said as she entered the room, interrupting Lord Vanguard in her excitement.

  Derek studied the messenger. “Who is here?”

  “Lady Amanda, my lord. The guards at the outer gate swore ‘twas her ladyship who entered just before sunset.”

  Derek glanced at Hugo in disbelief.

  Hugo responded with his own self-satisfied look.

  Odelia wiped her perspiring brow and quickly headed for the door, dragging the other maid out with her.

  Derek stood and waited for the room to stop spinning, wishing he hadn’t spent quite so much time at the Boars Head Inn. He needed proof that the wench had returned. Women never followed orders and for that reason alone he was sure he had seen the last of his betrothed.

  “Mayhap it would be preferable,” Hugo told him, “if you got some rest and visited your betrothed when you are…shall we say…more yourself?”

  Derek strode past the burly man-at-arms without so much as a glance. Not even the strong drink had eased the turmoil Lady Amanda caused him. If indeed the wench had returned, she would surely regret that decision.

  ~~~~

  Morgan stepped into the round wooden tub filled with warm water, hoping to wash away the frustrations of the day. Maybe she really had hit her head in the forest. Or maybe she was indeed Amanda and her other life in the future was a crazy dream. Why else wouldn’t anyone else see that she was not Amanda Forrester?

  Since the tub wasn’t long enough for her to extend her legs fully, she sat with her legs crossed in front of her. She grabbed one of the scented soaps she’d found in Amanda’s trunk and used it to bathe.

  When she was done washing she let her legs dangle over the edge of the tub and lay her head back on a folded pelt. The room crackled with relaxing warmth. She closed her eyes, but not for long, because suddenly the door swung open. The iron hinges nearly unbuckled beneath the weight of the door. The thick planks hit the stone wall with an ear-piercing bang.