“It’s…ok. This is…um…fine.”

  “You are freezing,” he pointed out. “We should head back.”

  “Not yet,” she pleaded softly. “I want to talk to you.”

  His mistake was to look down into her eyes. “Why do you not fear me after what you saw me do today?” He had no idea why hearing his words made his throat tighten.

  “You did it for me,” she answered softly, her breath warming his chin. “They were coming to kill me. Why didn’t you try to kill me, too?”

  “Why should I?” he asked. “You are not my enemy.”

  “I wasn’t theirs.”

  “They likely believed you a witch.”

  “And you don’t?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and walked her to the shore. “I don’t know what I believe about you.”

  “I wish there was a way to prove my words.”

  “To what end?” he asked. “What would you have me do? I’m going back to the field in a few of weeks.”

  She stopped walking and gave him a horrified look. “You are? I…I mean I don’t know what I would have you do… I don’t know what anyone can do. I may be stuck here for the rest of my life.”

  Her large eyes grew larger, more haunted. He thought she might begin weeping again. “Miss Locksley,” he began with a scowl. He killed. He didn’t comfort. He didn’t know the first thing about soothing a soul. “I do not know if there is anyone to help you get back home. But it does not have to be so bad here.”

  “Oh, no?” she asked separating from him. “How often do you bathe?”

  “I just had a bath earlier today,” he told her with his brows dipping low over his eyes.

  “And the time before that?”

  His expression darkened. “You can clean up anytime you like right behind you.” He pointed over his shoulder at the waves.

  “What do you do for pain?” she asked. “Wine?”

  “We have something stronger if needed,” he defended.

  “Whiskey?” she asked with a mocking twist of her pretty mouth. “We have pills. They are medicine all crushed up into a powder and made into a solid ball. I just have to pop it right into my mouth and swallow it and poof—” she snapped her fingers in the air. “No more pain. Advil. There are pills to help with just about every disease. What pain medicine is given to a woman in labor…the labor of giving birth?”

  He had no idea. He was still trying to imagine the medical marvels she mentioned.

  “Right.” She chuckled. “No thanks. How do you communicate with friends or family far away?”

  “I do not have any friends or family,” he told her, meeting her softening gaze. “But I would think the same way I would get in touch with the king from the battlefield. Send a missive.”

  She nodded her worried head. “We have a slim box that fits into the palms of our hands. With it, we can see and speak to whoever we want, wherever they are in the world in a moment.”

  She had an ingenious imagination.

  “Not only can our phones—that’s what they are called—put us in touch with friends or family in an instant, we can check the news anywhere in the world, look things up, virtually visit anywhere—”

  He let one corner of his mouth curl into a slight smile.

  She shook her head at him and gave him a disappointed look. “It’s all real. As real as you. But the world is a very different place.”

  “It sounds like a better place.”

  “No. Not in some ways.”

  “Like?”

  “There are a lot of people where I live! There are almost two million in the city alone!”

  He stopped walking and gave her a doubtful stare. Another crack in her fantastical story. “Two million in one city?”

  “Yes. It’s crowded.”

  “How big is the city?

  “The island that I live on is called Manhattan. It’s a little over twenty-two miles long. It’s surrounded by the other four boroughs that comprise New York City. Those boroughs also have millions of people.”

  “Where do they all live?” he asked, not knowing if he should keep going along with her or put a stop to this now. She sounded so convincing. She’d thought of everything.

  “In buildings. They are tall, some are called skyscrapers. They consist of apartments, and each apartment has rooms, and a working bathroom. It’s all very private. Everyone has a key to his or her apartment.”

  “Miss Locksley?”

  “Call me Kes. Miss Locksley sounds old.”

  “I will call you Kestrel,” he complied, somewhat. “’Tis…different and, ehm, beautiful.”

  She smiled and tilted her head just a bit. “You think so?”

  He nodded. Pity she was mad. She was mesmerizing. So much so that she tempted him not to give a damn what the state of her head was. “Why would you want to go back to that? It sounds nightmarish.”

  “Ok.” She laughed a little, making his head real. “I know it doesn’t sound so inviting. But we’ve adapted, and we don’t mind the dense population.”

  He gave her a disgusted look. “I understand that ’tis your friends and family you miss, not necessarily all the rest.”

  “I miss everything,” she corrected, sounding as haunted as she looked. “It’s my life. It’s who I am. I have to get back.”

  Nicholas didn’t know how to answer her. None of it could possibly be real. She may as well have come here and told him she lived on the moon. It was impossible.

  So was her appearing from nowhere before his eyes—in the shimmering air.

  Chapter Five

  Kes lay awake in her new, more comfortable bed. She was thinking of the dream she’d had earlier in the servants’ quarters. Sir Nicholas was somewhere—in another lifetime, watching her. In her dream, she had felt his gaze warming on her. The power and carefully leashed emotion exuding from him washed over her and woke her from her sleep.

  She’d gone to look for him and found him walking away in a hall close by. Before she’d called to him, she took in the sight of him, his strong thighs and hard ass beneath his forest green doublet. When she’d caught up with him, it was no better. He hadn’t shaved, but his hair and beard were clean. His hair was almost black. It was combed back and tied at his nape, accentuating the hard curve of his jaw and eyes like diamonds that cut deep into her, where her wounded heart was. He had a scar down the side of his left temple and a small scar across his jaw. He’d been cut in the battle and would have a scar from that as well. Despite it all, he was utterly, breathtakingly handsome, but he was tired. The dark circles under his eyes attested to it. The slice along his cheekbone, below his eye, had a few crude stitches in it.

  They had spent a few hours together. He saw that she was fed and brought her to a good-sized chamber on the second floor. The bed wasn’t bad for a medieval bed. It was made of wood, of course, with carved swirls traveling up its four posters and hangings draped from a frame suspended from the ceiling beams.

  There were chests and two tables. One was larger than the other with a basin and an empty jug set atop it.

  He’d promised to have her necessities brought in in the morning.

  It had all felt too permanent.

  She’d spent another hour, thinking about ways to find that brooch in the middle ages. She couldn’t look it up on the internet. She had absolutely no idea where to even begin or how to get anywhere.

  She cried as hopelessness of ever going home covered her. What would everyone think? Most likely that she’d been kidnapped by a sex trafficking ring. Did Mr. Green and Luke know about this time traveling thing? Of course they knew. They wouldn’t sit around waiting for the cops. They were gone for sure.

  No one would find her. She was stuck here.

  Sir Nicholas de Marre barged into her thoughts. She tried not thinking of him, but everything else was so bad. He was the only good thing in all this.

  Of course, he was a male so she couldn’t trust him. She wondered if men were different in this century. She wasn’t expecting Sir Galahad. Wait. What?

  Her eyes opened wider. Pendragon!

  She sat up in bed. The name on the brooch was Pendragon! How could she forget? She knew the legends of King Arthur Pendragon. But the name had completely eluded her.

  Should she speak it? Should she say goodbye to Sir Nicholas first?

  Why did she think of him before she left?

  “Pendragon,” she whispered, heart pounding. Nothing happened. She said it a little louder. Her shoulders slumped with disappointment when she remained in her bed.

  She finally slept sometime later with the name Pendragon on her lips. All too soon, morning came and Elia appeared over her bed with three other women, who looked at least two decades younger.

  “Good morning, lady. Am I correct in assuming that you had no knowledge that Lord Scarborough was planning to give you this room without telling me?”

  “You are correct in that assumption,” Kes told her. “But if this is an inconvenience for you, I don’t mind moving again. This is, after all, temporary.”

  Elia’s large, hazel eyes warmed on her. “I would not think of asking you to move again. I just wish he would keep me apprised of things. I went to the servants’ quarters and you weren’t there. No one had seen you. I was afraid you had run off alone. Nicholas told me that he found you on the battlefield, poor girl, and you didn’t remember things too clearly. It would have been quite dangerous for you.”

  “I wouldn’t just leave,” Kes assured her gently. Was Elia so concerned for her already? They were strangers. But people were different here. She watched the three younger women scurry around the chamber, tidying up and filling the water basin and jug.

  Elia issued a series of orders to the women, who were called Agnes, Caitlyn and Hilde and they left only to return with fresh linens, kirtles and overgowns, hair clips, and more. They then proceeded to brush her hair away from her forehead and secured a crespine toward the back of her head. They paid no attention to Kes’ meager protests. When they were finished with her hair, they dressed her in a linen chemise, a kirtle of deep blue that fit her perfectly, and a wool dress with full skirts of lighter blue. The neckline of the dress was low, but the kirtle covered up what cleavage she had.

  She had to stop the girls from pulling her laces too tight across her chest and stomach. It was hard to breathe. How did the women work and get anything done in these clothes?

  “My, but you look enchanting!” Elia cried out when she hurried back into the chamber a few minutes later. “Mayhap seeing you will make Lord Scarborough feel better. He is in a foul mood.”

  Why would Elia think that seeing Kes would make the earl feel better? “Why is he in a foul mood?”

  “He did not say,” Elia told her. “But he has many reasons. You will find that he is most often quiet.”

  Kes was surprised at what she was hearing. He spoke easily enough to her last night.

  “Since King Edward perished, God rest his soul, Nicholas has changed.”

  “Changed how?” Kes asked while Caitlyn slipped her feet into soft slippers with leather bottoms.

  “Never mind that,” Elia said, glancing at the other women. Perhaps she didn’t want them to know. Kes would ask her later.

  The pins in her hair pinched her scalp and she could barely inhale.

  “Do you remember anything about your life yet?” the head maid asked her.

  Would Kes forget it all? Tears filled her eyes and she bit her tongue to stop them.

  “Oh, I would say you were noble born for certain.”

  “That’s kind of you to say, Elia.” She thought of her aunt, Eleanor Pendridge. “My distant aunt was the Duchess of Glastonbury.”

  “You remember!”

  “Only bits and pieces.”

  “Well, come. Let’s go find Nicky and tell him.”

  Nicky. It was a familiar pet name that almost made Kes envious when she heard Elia say it.

  She almost laughed at herself. Who was she to feel possessive of him?

  After three steps, she tripped over her skirts and almost landed on her face.

  “No, no, dear,” Elia caught her and corrected. “You must loop your skirts over your arm and carry it.”

  This must have been the fashion of the day. Kes had seen other women carrying their skirts earlier.

  The masses of wool were heavy as she walked down the hall. The stairs were a bit of a challenge, but she managed. Elia led them outside to the separate great hall in the inner bailey.

  Kes stepped on a pebble that felt as though it went through her flesh.

  By the time she stepped into the hall, two of the pins in her hair popped out and a few strands of hair fell around her temples.

  The hall was enormous, with twelve rectangular tables seating at least eight people each. The noise was almost overwhelming. It was like hearing everyone in the world’s voices in her head.

  She spotted Nicholas at the head of one of the tables. He held a cup to his frowning lips and looked around. He grumbled something to the people sitting with him at the table.

  Elia pulled her closer. “Lord, look who I have found, and does she not look lovely?”

  He looked at her loose strands of hair and then at the rest of her with those cool silvery eyes until the backs of her knees tingled. He didn’t say whether she looked lovely or not. In fact, he said nothing at all. Not even hello.

  Kes glanced at Elia. She hadn’t been kidding. He really was in a foul mood.

  “Well then,” the head maid said with a slight whip to her voice. “We shall leave you alone. Come, Miss Locksley, there is room for us at that table over there.”

  She tugged on Kes’ arm to lead her away.

  “Wait!” he shouted. When they turned to him, he looked at the empty place to his right and then at Elia. “Sit her there.”

  “I would rather not sit with you, Sir,” Kes said. Every eye at the table fell on her.

  Elia drew in a slight gasp.

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have spoken so boldly to the lord of the castle. She was in the fifteenth century after all. She felt a little faint at the thought of it. The laces of her dress were constricting her air flow.

  She didn’t want to faint in front of him.

  The pins in her hair were making her itch. Last night, she’d had the slightest thought that it might not be so absolutely terrible here. She’d changed her mind. She hated it here. She wanted to go home.

  She spun on her heal, ready to leave them all sitting there gaping.

  “Miss Locksley!” he roared. Everyone in the great hall quieted and turned to look at him, and then at her.

  She pivoted around and glared at him. He was on his feet. Two women at the table took hold of a small group of children and ushered them away. “Yes, my lord?”

  He walked around to the empty bench and dragged it screeching from under the table. “Sit down.”

  She stared into his eyes from across the room. She was going to give him ten seconds to apologize and then she was leaving the hall and going back to her room.

  1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…

  “Please.”

  She scratched her head. Another pin fell to the floor and sounded like a bolt of lightning striking in the quiet hall. She guessed his asking nicely was as close to an apology as she was going to get.

  Besides, Elia looked like she was going to pass out. She hadn’t moved. Where was she planning on sitting?

  Kes took a step and almost fell into the table. She hoisted up her skirts and made it to the bench. She tried to breathe when she sat. He motioned for Elia to sit beside her.

  So, he allowed his maid to sit at his table. Was she sitting in Elia’s seat? At his right? She wanted to fan herself.

  “Miss Locksley,” Elia said. “I think you will enjoy today’s—”

  “I’m sorry,” Kes managed. “Just give me a moment.” She began untying her laces. If everyone was shocked a minute ago, they were probably choking on their ale as she pulled and tugged her way out of the contraption. Did women really eat with these things on? Her skirts were overly heavy in the warm hall, so she untied them and let them tumble around her on the bench. She knew wearing a kirtle alone wasn’t considered indecent. Plus, she’d stopped caring. She needed air.

  “What were you saying, Elia?”

  Elia’s blood had drained from her face. The angry earl was smiling.

  It didn’t last long, for another scowling man had turned his angry glare on him. “You drove my wife and children away with your temper.”

  Nicholas ground his jaw. “Reg, why do you not go after them?”

  “I do not find you humorous,” Reg protested.

  “That is because I’m not trying to be humorous,” the earl let him know. “I’m trying not to knock out your front teeth.”

  Kes turned to glare at him again. “Can we eat in peace?”

  “Of course.” Nicholas agreed and turned a fearsome smile on the other man. “Reg, you will stay silent or I will cut out your tongue.”

  Reg fumed but he didn’t say another word. Who was Reg? How come Nicholas didn’t mention him or his family last night? He and his family sat at the lord’s table. They must be his relatives. They didn’t seem like friends. She thought he’d said he had no family? She realized he actually hadn’t said all that much last night. Not anything too deep, at least. They ate in silence, which was better than the previous conversation.

  “Why are you grouchy this morning?” Kes asked when conversations started up again.

  “What is grouchy?” he practically growled at her.

  “Bad-tempered.”

  “I am not any different today than I am every day.”

  “Oh, great.” She tossed him a fake smile.

  “Am I going to have to ask you what your words mean all day?”

  “You don’t have to ask anything,” she countered coolly. “In fact, you don’t have to speak to me at all.”

  “Who are you?” Reg asked, looking like he may fall to his knees before her at any moment.