First Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 3) (12 page)

Her eyes shone, and he prayed she would not weep. He could not bear to see a woman weep.

“Promise?”

“Aye, you have my word.” He said no more as she kissed his cheek. “Give them my tunic to wash or I will have to fight with no clothes.”

She scowled. “And have half the village come to stare. Don’t worry, they can have this smelly shirt.”

He heard her sighing as the women bathed her. Thinking of his lady in the bath, being washed, sent desire coursing through him, so he took himself to the lists. Swordplay would distract him from her shapely arse.

Edward wiped his brow. He had run through the garrison, saw to matters requiring his attention, and now he stood back, hands on hips.

“She will be most pleased.”

He looked to his friend. “Think you?”

“Aye.” Brom fingered the gifts. “How much gold did you give to the abbey?”

“A great deal, but it will be worth every coin to see her smile.”

“If you say.” Brom looked unsure. “I would give my intended a horse. Practical and useful. No flowers that die, or foolish trinkets.”

“A horse?” Edward snorted. “This is why you have that scar above your brow.”

“’Twas worth it. She was a fine wench.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “I will woo Mistress Jennifer, then I will wed her.”

“Better you than me.”

Was he ever coming to get her? Jennifer was thrilled to be clean and no longer stinking like week-old garbage. She’d groaned when the women scrubbed her hair. The healer and Edward said it was a bad case of food poisoning, but if it was, why hadn’t anyone else gotten sick? After a while, she’d decided it was a lingering effect of time travel. But wow, she’d never been so sick in her whole life. The first few days, she swore she was going to die.

Not eating anything but broth for a week had made her cranky. She’d been dreaming of pizza, and mac and cheese, and tacos. Not to mention chocolate and her favorite cereal.

Alistair had been a pain in the butt over the past week. Sure, he was just doing his duty, guarding her. But every time she tried to leave, there he was, outside the door, barring her way. She scowled at him, and for the first time he scowled back.

“You frowned at me.”

“Lady? I would not.”

A small giggle escaped. “Oh, yes you did. I’m telling Edward.”

He looked panicked. “Nay, lady. My lord would be most displeased.”

“You’re mad you’ve had to stay inside all week watching over a mere woman, aren’t you?”

Alistair clasped his hands together. "’Tis my duty to watch over you.”

“Admit it and I won’t tell Edward you’re being mean to me.”

The man looked horrified. He swallowed and looked down the corridor as if another guard might help him, but there was no one. His shoulders slumped.

“Aye, ’tis true.”

Jennifer laughed for the first time in a week. She laughed so hard she cried, her side ached, and she started snorting. Pulling herself together, she patted his arm. “I wasn’t really going to tell on you. I’m not a rat. I just wanted to hear you admit how horrible it’s been to be stuck inside all week.”

She’d come to like Alistair. He was eighteen and took his duties very seriously. So much so that she could imagine him outside Buckingham Palace as tourists tried to get him to react to whatever crazy thing they were doing.
 

He looked relieved. “You should not jest so, lady.”

When she whirled around to go back in the room, a bout of dizziness hit her. Fingers grasped the door but missed. Then strong arms swept her up. She’d know the feel of them anywhere.

“Edward. I was going to come down and find you, but Mr. Crankypants wouldn’t let me pass.”

Alistair blanched at Edward’s look. Too bad she couldn’t see it—she bet it was a doozy.

“I will see you in the lists later.”

The poor guy turned even paler and fled down the corridor. Edward grumbled under his breath as he carried her down the stairs and outside. She waved to a few of the people who’d come to see her while she was sick. The men were in the lists, and she smiled at one of the archers. His aim was atrocious, but he made up for it in gusto.

“Where are we going? I thought I was going to watch you practice your swordplay?”

“Womanly, the lot of them.” He cursed. “Nay, we will spend the afternoon in the rose garden. There is a gift for you.”

“Presents? I love presents.”

He chuckled. They entered the walled garden, the scent of roses permeating the air. The day was warm, the sky blue, and the man she’d fallen hard for over the past week and a half was as perfect as if she’d conjured him up with a magic potion.

In the center of the garden were a fountain and a stone bench.

“Close your eyes.”

She did as he asked. Waiting. Then she felt him put her down on the bench, but he didn’t sit beside her. There was a rustling before he said, “Open your eyes.”

“Oh!” There before her was the most wondrous gift. She reached out, and, knowing what she wanted, Edward stepped into her arms.

Her voice was choked. “It is the best gift I’ve ever gotten. How can I ever thank you?”

There before her was everything she needed to paint. An easel made of wood and a bundle on the ground unrolled to display the contents. There was a stack of parchment and wood panels for sketching and painting. Assorted brushes, pen and ink, and a beautiful wooden box that was so ornate it looked like a jewelry box.

Edward set it beside her and opened it. “Does it have what you need?” He sounded unsure. “The monks said ’twas what you would require.” He touched a brush. “They are made from squirrel.”

Jennifer looked at the tiny jars. Pigments in various colors. She held up each one, opening it and exclaiming over the colors. There were also sticks of mineral pigments: umber, red and yellow ochre, and lime white. When she opened one of the jars, she quickly closed it again and gasped.

“That’s ultramarine. It must have been ghastly expensive.”

“The monks were delighted to take my gold.” He ran a finger down the side of her face, twisting her hair between his fingers. “The color is the same as the dark flecks in your eyes. The moment I saw the color, I knew you must have it.”

“Oh, Edward.” Tears threatened but didn’t fall. “I’m so very happy.”

He held up two more jars. “One of the monks said these are for water and egg to make tempera.”

“I’ll paint the castle and the gardens and the people.” She looked at him, feeling shy yet aching. “Would you sit for me?”

He startled. “You wish to paint me?”

“I do.”

“Aye, my visage should be captured. The future men in your time are weak and should see what a knight of the realm looks like.” The arrogance was back, and she grinned.

“Of course, my lord.”

“Harrumph.” He pulled her on his lap. “Tell me all you would paint.” With a finger, he tilted up her chin. “I would send the monks wagons of gold to see you so pleased.”

She laughed. “Don’t say that. You haven’t seen how much I love to paint. We might have to live in a hut after I squander all your gold.”

During her stay, Jennifer had managed to avoid getting on a horse. They were pretty, and she’d fed them carrots but ride? No way.

So how was it she found herself nervously eyeing a beautiful black horse with a white patch in the center of its forehead that looked almost like a heart?

Edward came striding toward her. The man pulled all the energy to him, every eye watching him. The movie-star effect.

“The cook packed the tarts you enjoy.” He put his arms around her waist, and she wiggled way. “Is aught amiss?”

She took another step back. “No. Why don’t we walk to the coast? A nice, long walk would be lovely. It’s a beautiful day.”

“Do not be foolish. The horses are faster.”

But she took another step back. The stable boy stood waiting, and there were a few of Edward’s men around. They would all laugh at her.

Up on tiptoe, she whispered in his ear, “I can’t ride.”

“You recovered a sen’night ago. Are you unwell again?”

“Shhh.” She put a finger to her lips. “No. I never learned how.”

Edward blinked at her. “You are unable to ride? How do you travel in your time?”

His men, hearing, took a few steps closer.

“Nice. You were supposed to whisper.”

He looked abashed. Alistair eyed her as if she were from another planet, which, given the years, wasn’t too far off base.

“You are a woman. How have you never been astride a horse? Was your sire cruel? Did he beat you and lock you in your chamber?”

They were drawing a crowd. Everything was closing in, and all she wanted to do was run away. But she’d been pushing herself out of her comfort zone. Trying to get used to being around more people. There wasn’t much privacy in medieval England. So she straightened and looked each man in the eye.

“When I was a…child, my sire sent me to learn to ride for a…sen’night. Since then I have never been on a horse. Where I come from, people do not ride horses.”

This caused all kinds of discussion.

Edward pressed his lips to her ear, sending shivers down her back. “Cars?”

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded, but the smug look on his face pushed the shivers away. So she stepped on his foot.

“Cars go much faster than horses.”

“Harrumph.”

As they stood there grinning at each other as if tied together by an invisible thread, Brom sauntered up, glanced between them, and grinned. He slapped Edward on the arm.
 

“Haven’t seen such a smile since we were at court.”

For a moment Edward frowned, then he grinned at her. “A beautiful woman will make all men fools.”

Heat traveled up her ribcage. “All beautiful women?”

Brom laughed.

“Nay, mistress. Only you.”

“Oh. Well then.”

His men looked just as amused, and she’d had enough of being out of her comfort zone for the day.

“Guess you better help me up on this horse.”

Edward lifted her up. “Midnight is gentle. She will follow Thor.”
 

Just like she’d follow him wherever he went, but of course she wouldn’t tell him that. His head was big enough as it was.

When she was little she used to have her dad tell the story of meeting her mom. He always said her mother kept multiple men on a string before picking him. That the woman always picked the man, no matter how much the man wanted to think otherwise. Of course, her mom looked like a beauty queen, and still did thanks to an injection or laser here and there, while Jennifer, well, she had good skin and really thick hair. Seeing herself reflected in his eyes was when she honestly felt as beautiful as any movie star or beauty queen. When he looked at her, it was as if no one else existed.