Knight Moves: Merriweather Sisters Time Travel (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 2) (18 page)

The cold water soothed her temper. There was grease on her hands from lunch. She rubbed them with mud from the bank. Once her hands were clean, Melinda squatted down to wet the hem of her cloak and dress in the stream. She sat on a rock and scrubbed the cloth against the stone, repeating until the clothing was as clean as she could manage with water. Since she would be wearing the same clothes for the rest of the way, she wanted to stay as clean as possible. She’d never gone without deodorant at home. With a quick look around to make sure she was alone, Melinda sniffed her pits. Thanks to daily scrubs with water and the rest of the precious lavender soap, she didn’t stink. The new dress would wait until they arrived at Blackford. She didn’t want Lucy to see her looking like something the cat dragged out of the trash.

Movement caught her eye. There. Across the shallow stream was the most adorable bunny sitting there looking at her. It was brown and plump, with the cutest pink nose. As it turned to hop away, Melinda followed. She knew she had a bit of time. The men would let the horses eat while they finished their meal.

There were large trees on the right, and on the left shrubbery along the base of the trees. So it would be easy to mark her path. No way she’d get lost, and she wouldn’t go far. The bunny hopped around a corner and Melinda picked up her pace, following along until she came out of the trees into a meadow.

Magical. As if she’d tumbled down the rabbit hole and landed in the land of faeries.

The meadow was filled with crocus and bluebells. The first signs of life after winter. The sun turned the meadow into an impressionist painting. There was a grouping of stones almost in the center of the meadow. She made her way there, climbed up, and stretched out on the flat stone, letting the sun warm her. Just a few minutes.

Melinda opened her eyes. The sun had moved across the sky. Crap on toast. She’d fallen asleep. But for how long? James was going to kill her. They’d be worried and looking for her.

On the way back, things looked different. The big trees were on the left, but after several hundred yards nothing looked familiar. She retraced her steps and this time turned right.

“Hell’s bells.” Great. She was hopelessly lost. Why hadn’t she tied her hair ribbons to branches? Because she’d been sure she could find her way. That was Melinda’s problem—she was always sure which way to go.

Once she and a friend got turned around on vacation in the mountains of Asheville. Her friend, knowing about the Merriweather curse, asked Melinda which way to go. She said right. Three hours later, they realized if they’d turned left they would have been back at the hotel in minutes. When her friend complained, Melinda said, “You know how bad I am with directions.” “Yes,” the friend replied, “but you sounded so sure.”

Who knew how long she wandered? She looked at the sky. Maybe late afternoon? She could picture the frowns from the men. They would be angry, and she didn’t blame them. It was stupid to go off alone. In the future she’d better take one of the men along, no matter where she went, so she didn’t get lost again. A branch snapped, making her jump. It wasn’t wise to be alone in the woods. That was a lesson she’d learned the hard way.

Another noise. She scrambled over a fallen tree, digging out the leaves to make a hiding spot when she heard someone clearing their throat.

“What, pray tell, are you about, mistress?”

Melinda popped up.

“Renly. I’m so glad it’s you.”
 

She held her hands out in a placating gesture.
 

“I’m so sorry. I got lost again. Don’t say it—I should’ve taken one of the men with me. But when I was at the stream, I saw a bunny and followed him. To the most magical place. Come see.”

Apparently she’d gone in a circle, because Melinda could see the meadow beyond the break in the trees. Renly silently stood beside her. James’ captain took a medallion out of his tunic, kissed it, and walked into the center of the meadow, touching the stones. The expression of awe on his face probably mirrored her own.

“’Tis a sacred place.”

They stood quietly, enjoying the feeling of peace in the air.

“We needs return. Lord Falconburg will be worried.”

She snorted. “More like furious.”

“He will understand. ’Tis in your nature.”

“My nature?”

“You were given great beauty but no sense of direction.”

Melinda ignored him. He led her back through the woods, across the stream, and back to the camp.

“How do you do that?” He looked at her, a question on his face. Before he could answer, she spoke again. “How do you walk so quietly and find your way so easily?”

Renly looked perplexed. “I would ask the same of you, lady. How do you sound like a herd or horses and end up lost no matter where we travel?”

“It’s a gift to make perfect men like you feel needed.”

He threw back his head and laughed. As they walked into the camp, he quit laughing, his hand going to the sword at his hip. He unsheathed the blade, shoving Melinda behind him with his free hand.

“What?”

She peered around him and clapped a hand over her mouth. One of the men, the youngest one with red hair, lay on the ground, eyes open and unseeing. Two more of the men sat on the ground, blood on their tunics. Another came stumbling from the woods at the opposite side of the camp.

“We were attacked. Never heard them. I was taking a piss when I heard a commotion. I chased after them but it was too late.” The man held out his sword to Renly.

“Kill me, captain. For I have failed. The men took Lord Falconburg.”

Renly and Melinda swore at the same time. This was all her fault. If she hadn’t followed the bunny or spent so much time in the meadow, then gotten lost, they would’ve been on their way and been long gone before the men came. Now a man was dead because of her.

“We will camp in the meadow. The spirits will keep us safe. Bring Ben. We will bury him there. It will be dark soon. We cannot search for James tonight. In the morning, we will find him. I swear it, my lady.”

One of the injured men saw to the horses. Both had suffered cuts and bruises, but nothing fatal. Renly and the other two men carried Ben. At the meadow, Melinda stayed with the horses as they buried the fallen knight. She stood side by side with them around the grave. No one knew what to say, so she recited a prayer she remembered from childhood.
 

How many times had James come to her rescue since she’d arrived in medieval England?

Now it was her turn to save him.

“Bloody hell. I’ll go find her.” The irksome wench had no sense of direction. Small babes could find their way home easier than Melinda. James never got lost.
 

He tracked her through the forest to the stream. The print of her boot told him she’d crossed it. He followed the tracks through the wood. A broken branch showed him her path. There were tracks of a hare. Why would she follow the animal? She couldn’t bear to watch them kill the food the men caught.

Something in the brush glittered in the light. One of Melinda’s earrings. As James bent down to pick up the jewelry, cold steel met his neck. The blade lifted, forcing him to his feet if he didn’t want to lose his head. His leg trembled but didn’t fail.

“What have we here? The Red Knight caught off his guard.”

A group of outlaws surrounded him. James met the gaze of the man who held the blade to his neck. He knew who they were. They lived in a dark wood, preyed on travelers and held nobles and knights for ransom. ’Twas rumored they were led by a man who was once a rich and powerful knight. No one knew who he was.

James whirled away from the blade, pulling the man toward him. He struck the dolt, gratified to hear the breath whoosh out. The masked outlaw kicked his leg out and James went down hard, taking his opponent with him. He rolled to his feet, striking the whoreson. As the man raised his knife, James leaned in, feeling the cut of steel on his arm as he removed the bandit’s mask.

He was so taken aback by the man’s face that James missed the fist coming straight for his nose. A loud crunch followed by pain, gushing blood, and the taste of warm metal filling his mouth all told James his nose was broken. Again.

The man leaned down, picked up the mask, dusted it off on his hose, and shrugged.

James gaped at him. “Your brothers think you dead.”

“Everyone thinks I’m dead. I intend to keep it that way.”

The man before him was renowned. One of five brothers, John Thornton was the second son. According to rumor, he had been caught in bed with the king’s mistress. John escaped death but lost all. His title, lands, and money. The rest of his family suffered heavy fines. Some lost lands and title. But over the years, serving as mercenaries and fighting in tourneys, they regained their wealth and status.

The man offered his hand. “Mayhap you would care to wear a mask as well?”

James grunted, slapped John’s hand away, and got to his feet. He wobbled but a moment before standing steady. He would not show weakness in front of this man. No matter how his body pained him.

“Why not tell your brothers you live?”

“My death keeps them safe. The price on my head is too high. And I will never be welcome at court again. I ask you to keep my secret.”

“You ask a great deal.”

“I live in these woods. Ransoming knights and nobles. Killing many. I could kill you as well.”

James scoffed. “Ransom would be more profitable than killing me. You know I am wealthy.”

“Some say more so than the king. You will keep my secret.”

“Pray tell.”

All the Thornton brothers were arrogant whoresons. James had fought against all of them during battles and tourneys. A fearsome bunch of warriors, and while he would never admit such to the man before him, James respected them, even though they were cousin to his most hated enemy.

“I know why you hate William Brandon. But your hatred is in vain. I will tell the truth in return for my secret.”

James knew the story of his family’s massacre. What could this man know James did not? Curiosity filling him, he extended a hand.

“We have an accord.”

John shook his hand. “Not so pretty anymore, are you?” He pointed at James’ face. “Who did that to you?”
 

James’ leg was trembling, and he knew it would not be long before he found himself on the ground writhing in pain. “’Tis best a tale heard over a drink.”

John Thornton chuckled. “Where are my manners? And James?”

A raven cawed above them. As it flew from the tree, a single black feather floated down, landing next to James’ foot.

John nodded to his men.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?

Pain exploded in James’ head.

James woke to find himself blindfolded and trussed up like a wild boar, his hands and feet tied to branches as John’s men carried him through the woods. The scent of cooking fires and sounds of people told him they were close to the outlaw’s home. The men dropped him on the ground. One of the men removed the ropes binding his hands and feet.

James rubbed his hands and feet while he sat on the ground looking around him, noting any weakness. From the looks of the place, John had been living here for many years. ’Twas a small village built deep within the wood. Small wooden homes with children playing, women coming and going, and many men.

Many stared at him curiously, but not a single person shrieked or ran away in fear. Mayhap they were used to beasts. ’Twas said the wood was haunted by evil spirits.

One of the men led him to a wooden home larger than the others. The inside was well appointed. Rugs on the floors, fine furniture, and tapestries on the wall. No doubt stolen goods.

John handed him a mug of ale.

“My apologies for dealing you a blow. Our location must be kept secret. ’Tis safer for all that way.”

They sat drinking as a woman entered bearing a platter of food. James’ stomach growled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. No doubt his men would be searching for him. He hoped they’d found Melinda unharmed. The vexing woman found herself in more trouble than a small, curious boy.