Forever Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 2) (7 page)

The man called Robert scowled. “I woke to find her in my bed, unclothed. She most certainly is a whore.”

Elizabeth had had enough of being called a lady of the night. She hauled back to smack him again but he grabbed her arm, yanked her to him, and kissed her. The first thought that raced through her mind was he had a body made of marble. The second was how infuriating he was, and the third? Not one to lie to herself, she admitted he could kiss. The kiss started out demanding then turned questioning. She found herself responding before she came to her senses, pressed her palms to his bare chest, and shoved. Hard.

“She kisses like a whore.” He grunted and kissed her again, nibbling her lips. Time to teach the arrogant ass a lesson. Not to take without asking. She bit down on his lip.

The man swore and shoved her away.

“Take her to the dungeon until I’m ready to deal with this
lady
who claims to be neither whore nor faerie nor maiden.” He glared at her, touching a finger to his lips. “As you do not enjoy my company, let us see how you prefer the rats.”

The boy gasped. “My lord, they will eat her.”

“Nonsense. Perhaps a few nibbles.”

As the men took hold of her, she fought back, screaming at the top of her lungs, kicking and swearing. Her elbow connected with one of the men’s noses. He dropped her, holding his nose as blood ran through his fingers.

“I will curse you if you don’t release me this instant.”

The others backed away, looks of terror on their faces. Except for the leader. He looked like he was holding in a laugh. And the man who’d accosted her? Robert? He looked furious, the intent plain on his face.

She made it three steps before her feet left the ground and she found herself looking at a very nice backside.

“I demand you put me down this instant.”

The man who’d kissed her ignored her. No matter how much she twisted, kicking, screaming, and pounding on his back.
 

“You better have a fantastic lawyer. I’m going to have you arrested for assault.”

He jogged down the stone steps, making her head bounce against his back. Torches lit the way. Wait a minute. Torches? Had the power gone out? Or did he have such a gigantic ego, he demanded torches to give the castle an authentic feel? What an insufferable, heinous jerk.

Lifting her head to see where they were going made Elizabeth’s neck ache, so she settled for looking to the side. Had he taken her through a different passage?
 

“Where are you taking me? Hello? This is so not funny.”

He didn’t answer. The hall looked different. But they passed through so fast she didn’t have time to figure out what was bothering her. A man opened a door.

“My lord, might you reconsider? The lady can be placed in one of the other chambers until you decide her fate.”

“Out of my way.” He snarled at the man.

The guy gulped and moved. They were going down a set of stone stairs, the treads worn smooth in the middle. It grew colder and colder. Water trickled down the stone walls. At the bottom she saw rows and rows of casks.
 

A note of fear crept into her voice. “This isn’t funny.”

He kept moving, refusing to speak to her, bringing back the white-hot anger.

“Listen, you arrogant ass, put me down this instant.”

Metal creaked, she caught a glimpse of bars, and the breath whooshed out of her as he tossed her to the ground. She landed on a pile of blankets, and a cloud of dust filled the air. Coughing and sputtering, Elizabeth managed to get to her feet. Not again. The cell door slammed shut and a key turned in the lock. He strode away.

“Wait. You can’t just leave me here.”

His boots slapped on the stone as he walked away from her. She heard him talking to the man who’d told him not to do this. Maybe he would help. “Hello? Tell him to let me go.”

The men sounded like they were arguing.

“Damn you. I demand a phone call. I want my lawyer, you insane bastard.” She threw in every curse word she knew, even inventing a few on the spot.

At that, he turned, came back, and peered through the bars, his blue eyes almost violet in the dim light from the torches. “Highworth belongs to me. The cheek of the lass.”
 

The other man grinned. “By the saints, I’ve never heard such words from a lady.”

“That’s no lady.”

Robert turned on his heel and left, the other man following.

Elizabeth stood there until the anger drained away. She sat down, careful not to send up another cloud of dust, and pulled the blanket tight around herself. She’d now been locked up eight times. But this was the first time she didn’t have any clothes.

Could it be? Were the fates laughing at him from above? Robert frowned. Punishing him for mocking them? The woman in his dungeon could only be one of two things: faerie or future girl.
 

If she was truly from the future, ’twas not her fault she woke in his bed. Did it mean Highworth stood through the ages to come? Was she mistress of the castle? He thought on her words. Nay, she said she was visiting for a sen’night.

Could she be a faerie? He had never seen such hair. Hers had long curls begging to be touched. But the colors? Purple, blue, and pink. Perhaps a faerie. If she was, she could not escape. His dungeon was made of iron, and all knew faeries could not abide iron.

Neither boded well. He could not afford distraction. Had no time for her womanly matters. Not with Connor locked in the chamber upstairs, a price on his head. Nor with the guests arriving tonight.

“You should release her. Place her in the chamber next to Connor.” Featherton finished buttoning the buttons of Robert’s cotehardie. It fit snugly across the torso, and he raised his arms, checking the fit, ensuring it was not too tight to draw a sword. The rich velvet was embroidered with stags and other animals. The black pouch with the silver clasp was attached to the jeweled belt at his waist. Robert checked the weight.

“I added more gold, knowing who was in attendance tonight.” His steward sniffed.

Robert grinned. “There will be many wagers. I intend to win them all.” He looked down, pleased by his appearance. Lord Radford would be the only one dressed finer than he.

“I will see the wench, but mark my words, she is bound to bring trouble to Highworth.”

Mayhap he should free her. Assist her in her quest to go home. But in truth, he did not know if she could travel back to her own time. Robert tried to remember what his brothers had told him. None of their wives had gone back, though he thought there was a chance they could… When everyone left and Connor was healed and gone, then he could see to the meddlesome female.

Until then, he would tell her nothing. What was one more lie of the hundreds he’d told women over the years? Future girls. They were always getting in the way. Robert could not let her cause trouble.

Robert’s steward made a sound in the back of his throat indicating his disapproval as he left the chamber. After filling a cup with wine, Robert took the stairs down to the dungeon to check on his guest. As he approached the cell, he saw someone had found her a stool. She was sitting on it, leaning against the wall, staring into the distance. As he approached, she bolted to her feet, fists clenched at her sides.

“You look like a puffed-up peacock dressed like that. What is it, Halloween?” Even though she was shorter than him by eight inches, she managed to look down her nose at him. Robert’s mouth twitched.

“What are you?”

“What am I?” She blinked at him. “I’m not a
what
. My name is Elizabeth Smith. I won the right to stay here for a week, and I don’t find any of this the least bit funny, even if it is some kind of authentic castle experience.” She stepped forward, gripping the bars so tightly her hands turned white. “Let. Me. Out. Now.”

She was most definitely a future girl. “Where are your garments?”

“There was a storm. I didn’t want the rug to get wet, so I cleaned up the rain with my gown.” She mistook the look on his face for disapproval. Nay, he was most interested in her lack of a dress.

“I was the only one in the castle. Well, except for Featherton and Martha, but they stay in a cottage at the edge of the woods.”

He was so busy admiring her hair. It reminded him of the evening sky so much that he almost missed the words.
 

“You know Featherton?”

“Of course. He’s the one who showed me to the chamber.”

But she looked away and he knew she was lying. She squirmed, holding the blanket tight to her body. But how did she know his steward’s name?

“Well, actually, he put me in the chamber down the hall. But it was creepy, so I went to the room at the other end of the hall. It was much more to my taste.” She scowled at him. “If you are the owner, why are you here? It might be your room, but it’s my castle for the whole week. So get out.” Then she blinked at him, a look he’d seen on many a woman when they wanted his gold or his name.
 

“But first let me out so I can go back to sleep and wake up from this nightmare.”

Robert rocked back on his heels. Tapped a finger to his lips as if thinking. “I am Robert Thornton, Lord of Highworth. No one had the authority to grant you the right to reside at my castle. And wenches are not allowed in my chamber. Ever. Nor are they allowed to spend the night. If I let you go, will you leave now and stop vexing me?”

Elizabeth put her hands on her hips and glared at him. He couldn’t help but notice the pink in her cheeks, the fullness of her lips, and how her green eyes sparkled like emeralds when she was angry. Which she most definitely was. With him. ’Twas a new feeling. Wenches wanted him; they were never angry with him. Except when he left them.

“You listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. I won the week. I’m staying. For the full week.”

“A wager? What was this wager granting you my home as the prize?”

“There was a contest. I wrote a letter explaining why I deserved to stay here for a week. I won. So Highworth is mine. You need to leave. Come back another week.”

When he found out who’d wagered his home, he would take their head.

“It seems we are at an impasse, demoiselle. I will let you out when you pay the toll.” He smirked at her.

“Toll?”

“A kiss.”

“I wouldn’t kiss you again if you were the last man on earth,” she retorted.

“Such sweet words of wooing.” Robert threw back his head and laughed. “You will beg me to kiss you, and perchance I might say aye.”

“Never. I would rather kiss every pig in England than kiss you again.”

“We shall see about that, Elizabeth Smith.”

“Whatever.” She infused the word with such disdain as she rolled her eyes. And with that one word, Robert knew with a certainty. This was no witch or faerie. This was a future girl. Saints, the wicked fates had heard his boast and sent her to vex him. No matter what he told Edward, this woman was not for him. Future girls were the downfall of two of his brothers and two of his friends.

He turned on his heel, walking away. Robert looked back, calling out over his shoulder, “As you will, Mistress Smith. I will have food and clothing sent down for you.”

“Wait? Don’t leave me down here.”

He came back and stood in front of the bars. “Have you changed your mind? A kiss for your release?”

He watched as she narrowed her eyes and curled her lip. “I despise you. You are rude and arrogant. Nothing more than a misogynistic, hideous man.”

While he might not have understood the meaning of all of her words, he certainly understood the tone. She was furious with him, and for the first time in a long time, ever since that dreadful night two years ago, Robert felt the weight of his choices lighten just the smallest bit.

“We will see if you feel the same after you spend a night in my dungeons.” He left her bellowing at him, cursing like a hardened sailor from the docks.

“Robert, you cannot leave her in the dungeon or treat her thus. You know whence she comes.”

Not wanting any to overhear, he motioned Thomas into the solar. Robert paced in front of the fire.

“You and I both know future girls cause nothing but trouble. ’Tis a wonder my brothers survived. With Connor in the chamber above, ’tis not safe for any at Highworth. If he is found…I will be in the tower, my brothers stripped of land, title, and gold. And Mistress Elizabeth will find herself tied to a stake. You know how future women speak. The king’s men will call her witch.” He paced back and forth across the room, plotting.

“That is why you have treated her harshly. I knew you would not ill-use a woman. Will you send her to one of your brothers? Perhaps Edward?”

Robert stopped pacing. “Nay. Edward is putting down skirmishes and Henry and John have children.”

“Christian would hide her.”

He banged the cup down. “He would woo her.”

“I thought you did not care for her shrewish tongue.”
 

Robert heard the smile in Thomas’ voice.

“She is not for Christian. I would not have him saddled with such a wench.” Clenching his fists, he stomped across the room. “Radford. She will be safe with him.”

Thomas looked horrified. “Saints, you cannot.”

“He is in favor with the king. The man cannot resist a pretty face. I have heard tell he believes in faeries. He will think her one and hide her away. If I treat her harshly, he will believe it is because in truth I want her or I am afeared of her. He will do anything to have her, so I will wager on her and I will lose. He’s always wanted to best me. Then he will take her and she will be safe with him. He is a lord, and honor bound to treat her kindly, as he would a prized horse.”

Thomas snorted, hand on the sword at his hip. “I do not believe him to be an honorable man. But he would be a wise choice.” He scratched his beard. “You cannot leave her with him overlong. There is something about the man I do not care for.”

Robert resisted the urge to rub his hands together. “He will be so eager to best me, he will not wonder why I let a faerie go. Once Connor has healed and we have helped him escape England, then I will bring her back. She has a sharp tongue; by then he will be happy to be rid of our Elizabeth.”