wish upon a star
 

Wish Upon A Star
Written by Kim Comeaux



Prologue

"Kristy, are you still there?" asked a worried, female voice, through the phone line.
Kristy Kendrick pulled herself from her reclined position on her soft cushiony sofa and shifted the cordless phone from one ear to the other. "I'm sorry, Sis. What did you say?"
"I asked if you were going to be alright. I know how much you liked Cory…" That was an understatement! She was crazy, madly in love the jerk. "Will you please come over? Eric is already in bed and so is the baby. We could sit up and talk -- all night if you want."
Kristy sighed into the phone and shook her head as she answered, "Danni, I know you just want to help, but honestly, I just want to be by myself, tonight."
"So you can feel sorry for yourself."
"I'm not feeling…"
"You are."
She relented. "Okay, so I'm feeling sorry for myself. But don't I deserve to? I was planning on marrying him, Danni. He told me he loved me. How could I know that when I opened the paper this morning, that I'd find that my 'boyfriend' wasn't on the "Grease" musical tour that I thought he was on! Instead he took that two-bit…that…that hussy to Vegas and married her!"
Her ever-sensible sister prodded, "Are you sure you didn't suspect he was cheating on you?"
"No!" she defended, just a little too quickly.
"Were you paying attention?"
Kristy was silent for a moment. No, she really hadn't been paying attention. It was just that she'd been so busy lately. First, there was the fashion show in Paris, then the photo shoot in L.A. As one of the reigning top models in New York, she rarely had time for herself. Had she unintentionally driven Cory into someone else's arms?
"I guess I wasn't paying attention," came her hollow reply. That realization brought a fresh load of tears to her eyes.
"You're crying again," Danni said with a sigh. "He isn't worth your tears, Kris."
"I knew you were going to say that."
"It's the truth. And if you'd just stop a minute and think about it you'd know it was true. Kristy, the man is a social climber. Oh, with you he at least got his name in the Times gossip column, and a picture or two in the tabloids. But, face it, sister, New York's most celebrated deb, Debra St. Martin, puts him right along side the city's cream of society! Not to mention, that she happens to be the richest girl in town! He used you, plain and simple until something better came along." She was being brutally blunt, but then that was Danni. She never saw the need to sugar coat the truth. But that didn't mean she lacked heart. "Let me tell you this, though, Kristy. You deserve much better. And I can promise you 'better' is right out there waiting to be found. It may be today, it may be next year. But he's there!"
As usual, her sister's wisdom lent to her broken heart a thread of comfort and strength. But she still hurt. And a few wise words weren't going to make it all instantly better. She just needed time…
"I know you're right, Sis. I just a little time. I'll be okay."
"Okay. But, Kris?"
"Yes?"
"Please come and talk to me soon, okay?"
"Okay. Goodnight."
As Kristy hung up the phone, she suddenly felt a loneliness overtake her. She glanced around her stylish Soho apartment. Everything around her was bright a cheerful. Colorful prints from Monet and Renoir graced her walls and her living room furniture was overstuffed with a flowery print. Never a very tidy person, every nook and cranny was filled with nick nacks, books and little framed pictures of family friends. It was designed to make a person feel happy and welcome. And normally it would have that effect on her, except for today.
Today, nothing could help her feel better.
It would take….a miracle.
She got up from and ran her fingers through her long dark brown hair leaning back a bit to stretch her stiff muscles. A breath of cool air drifted through her silk blouse and she glanced over to the door that stood open to her balcony. It looked inviting and she thought that maybe a little fresh air would make her feel better.
Once outside she pulled a chair near the railing and sat down, propping her feet against it. As she glanced up to the dark sky, all she noticed at first were black clouds hiding the moon and the stars.
Figures, she thought wryly. Even the sky seemed to match her mood. She really shouldn't be feeling sorry for herself like she was, and she knew it. Hadn't she always been made of stronger stuff? Hadn't she pulled through when things were at their worst? At eighteen, when her parents were killed, didn't she pull herself together and take control of her life?
She'd packed up her belongings, sold the family farm in Indiana, and moved our to New York to live with her older sister and her brother-in-law. She'd only been in the city for a week when she was approached by a top modeling agent, who had spotting her in a department story, passing out perfume samples.
It had only brought in a little extra money at first and then before she knew what we happening, she had been chosen for the cover of Glamour. After that her life was not her own. It was run on a schedule. A schedule filled with photo shoots, fashion shows and commercials.
But during those first few months, she had meet Cory Warner. His charming ways and that devastating smile had immediately stolen her heart. He had introduced himself as an actor, but as Kristy had come to find out, he was mostly an out-of -work actor. Looking back, she could see what she did not before. He had used her to help his own career.
Kristy was glad that it hadn't worked, for he still remained out of work. She guessed now he was a rich out of work actor!
What a fool I've been, she thought to herself. How could she let herself be taken advantage of it that way?
And, now, here she was. On her own again. Lonely. There was probably a country song written for such an occasion as this one.
She wanted to just run away. But to where? She had no home in Indiana anymore. No parents to run home to and cry on their shoulders. And as much as she loved her sister, she didn't feel comfortable bothering her and her husband. They had their own lives to lead.
A life that Kristy so envied. A husband, and a child… would she ever have that?
A movement in the sky caught her eye and she looked up to see the dark, black clouds moving to reveal a beautiful midnight blue sky, sparkling with brilliant penlights.
Kristy smiled as she thought back to a time when she and Danni would make wishes on the first star that they saw. How did it go? Oh yes…
Star light, Star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have the wish, I wish tonight.
A giggle escaped her throat when she realized that she had spoken it aloud, and on impulse, decided to follow through with the rest of the game.
"I wish I could just be someone else. Someone that is just a simple wife. No career. No hectic schedules, just a wife."
A honking horn, from the street below, brought her back to reality and she couldn't help but smile at her foolishness. But somehow, she did feel better. She couldn't understand it, but there was a feeling rising within her that seem to say that everything was going to be alright.
She went back inside her apartment and readied herself for bed. And as she pulled the covers over her tired body, she could have sworn she heard a voice whisper, "As you wish…"
A shiver ran over her. She must be hallucinating. She did NOT hear a voice. But just to make sure, she laid still, barely breathing for a few moments.
Nothing.
With a weary sigh, she snuggled deep within the covers and fell fast asleep.
As she slept and dreamed, other forces were at work. Forces that had begun the moment she uttered her wish. Forces that would forever alter life as Kristy Kendrick knew it.

Chapter 1

By: Kimberley Comeaux
A ray of light broke through the thick fog of deep sleep. A frown marred Kristy's brow as she flung her arms over to shield her eyes. The light didn't diminish, however, it grew, and got brighter and brighter. This time she grabbed for the sheet and pulled it over her head.
Something wasn't right. The frown she sported deepened. From under the covers she slowly opened her heavy lids and blinked a couple of times to clear them.
Light? Why was there light coming threw her bedroom? Her bedroom window faced west and she had heavy drapes that shut out the light. Her eyes then adjusted to the lightweight sheet hovering over her face. White? Her sheets weren't white. Not solid white anyway. HER sheets had flowers and colorful ribbons running through them. And this mattress…it was most definitely NOT her waterbed!
With a jolt she sprang upright, knocking the sheet away. And what her blue eyes net with totally left her in a state of shock and unbelief. A loud gasp escaped her lips as she took in her alien surroundings. Her first thought was, I've been kidnapped and taken to…a museum?!
Large looming antiques were everywhere. The bed looked like it came right out of some gothic movie. It had a towering canopy and the heavy velvet drapes were pulled back and tied at the post. Tapestry's adorned the walls. And a large trunk was sitting in the corner with it's lid open and resting against the wall. It seemed to be filled with garments made of rich lavish colors and materials.
Her heart was beating ninety miles a minute. The shock was now beginning to wear off and fear and panic took it's place.
"Dear Lord, where am I?" she whispered to herself.
"You are in England, my child."
Another gasp sounded from her as she turned her head to her left and found a man standing beside her bed, completely clothed in ivory robes. Her hand moved to grasp at the neck of her gown. She noticed that the gown wasn't her own.
"What do you want from me? Why did you bring me here?"
A gentle smile lit the pleasant face and a hand lifted, palm up, to her. "Please do not be alarmed. You are quite safe. I will not hurt you," his warm voice smoothed.
She felt herself being lured in by that voice and immediately starting resisting. "Just please tell me where I am and why I am here. And who are you?"
Still ever so calm, he answered her. "As I said before, child, you are in England. Twelfth century England to be exact." He noticed an eyebrow raised at that information. She didn't believe him. He went on. "And as for who I am…My name is Jubal. Am what you'd call your guardian angel."
This was no time for jokes! "And I'm Cinderella, and with a wave of you magic wand you are going to turn my pumpkin into a coach!" she snapped, sarcastically.
Jubal frowned. "No, my dear. I believe that Cinderella had a fairy godmother not an…"
"Oh, whatever! I do have a brain, you know. If you think that I'm going to believe all this mambo jumbo, then you're looney tunes!"
He patiently waited till she ended her little speech and replied still wearing that insufferable angelic smile, "Do you not remember your wish?"
She suddenly grew cold, "My...my wish?"
"You made a wish, last night. You wished you could be someone else and be someone's wife, if I not mistaken." And his smile assured that he never was.
"This is a dream. I must be having a dream!" She placed her hands on her forehead as if trying to understand what was happening to her and squeezed her eyes tight.
Enough is enough, she thought, and jumped from the bed and ran to the ************************************************************ **** "This is NOT England," she replied crisply as she reached the opening, "We are still in New … Oh my gosh...." Her voice drifted off, once more she was in a state of utter disbelief. For there stretched before her was a countryside she had never before seen, and saw crude buildings and great stone walls that she was sure had never graced U. S. soil. People dressed in dull pheasant— like clothing milled about.
Then she saw, coming down through the gates, were two magnificent black horses unlike anything she'd ever seen. But what was even more incredulous was what the horses carried.
They were knights, dressed in what looked like ********************************l chains, and elaborately draped in gray material trimmed in gold, no less, carrying a large flag like banner made of the same material, bearing what looked like an image of a great eagle in flight.
Kristy lifted her eyes to look beyond the knights, and gasped at what they encountered. Never, in her whole career, in working with some of the most stunning men in the world, had she ever seen such a man as this.
Unlike the two who rode before him, he wore no helmet on his exquisite head, but rather left those dark tresses bare for all to behold. He sat proud and erect on his silk draped stallion, which also bore the colors of gray and gold. And neither was his body clothed with the ********************************ls as the others, but instead was outfitted in layers of what, looked like over long shirts, made of silk, and over his shoulders was fastened a long flowing mantle made of velvet. At his waist was attached a sword, that Kristy could swear was pure gold. On his large muscular legs, he wore some sort of hose or stockings that hid nothing and accented everything.
She allowed her eyes to finally roam up his beautiful body to the face she had only glanced upon before. A concerned look creased her brow and she couldn't understand was why his expression on his face bothered her so. He was most certainly handsome, but his fine features were granite hard, unfeeling, uncaring…without hope.
A moving sound came from behind, causing her to startle. A blush colored her cheeks when she realized that she'd been standing at that darn stone window like some sort of moonstruck teenager!
But all that her eyes had met had told her the bone—chilling truth. The man was right. This was definitely NOT New York.
A chill ran through her thinly clad body and she felt herself shaking uncontrollably. She felt the man hands on her arms and found them strangely comforting. "Please...Please tell me this is a dream."
"I'm afraid it's not."
"Why...why this wish, I've wished on stars, hundreds of/f times. I even wished .my sister would turn into a puppy … one time when I was mad at her, but you didn't honor that wish. Why this one?" She could feel herself bordering on the brink of hysterics.
"Because the person's place that you have taken, also wished the same thing. Christiana of Cranbrook is now in New York in your apartment, but hasn't yet realized what has happen. She's still sleeping."
She turned to look at him, confusion darkened her blue eyes. "How can we trade places? The people who know Christiana will take one look at me and know I'm not her and the same thing about her. For goodness sakes, people all over the world know what I look like."
"Look at this," he said gently as he pushed a miniature painting in her palm.
Her breath caught in her chest and her eyes widen with astonishment. "It's me."
"It's Christiana." he corrected. "You two are nearly identical. That's why I could honor both your wishes."
"1 think I need to sit down." she wavered as she grasp the arm of what would have been an expensive antique chair in her day, and sank down in it.
"Will I ever get to go back?" she asked as everything started sinking in.
"I cannot tell you the exact day, but there will come a time when you will be given the choice to remain or leave. If just one of you wants to return then the other must also return."
"But I want to return, now! And I can't sit here and believe that once Christiana realizes where she is she'll want the same thing," she quickly replied, grasping at any shred of hope she could find.
"You must both give your granted wishes a chance. As I said before you will be given a chance to return, later. But right now, you must make the most of what's been given to you. You will receive what you have wished for." There was something in his voice that reassured her and put her to ease despite the incredible circumstances. But then she remembered her whole wish, her concern returned.
"I ask to be a wife. Is Christiana married, because if she is, how could I possibly...with her husband…he would surely know!" Her cheeks grew red at that unholy thought.
"No, no. But she is betrothed. It's a marriage that has been arranged by King Richard, himself. The man has just recently come into his earldom and the king thought that with this new responsibility he needed a wife and therefore an heir. And if he ever found out that you're not the true Christiana, I doubt it will matter much to him, at least at first. He's marrying only because the king has ordered it and also because he desires an heir."
"How barbaric! And you expect me to take her place and marry this stranger? No thanks!" she stood to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest.
"It will not be as bad as it seems, after all love can change any man. And besides, your husband-to-be is an earl of the king and knight of the realm. He intentionally failed to mention he was also the most feared, but knew she would come to realize that soon enough. "He is Darian Maxwell. Earl of Greystone."
For one delirious moment she felt a shiver of excitement at the mention of his name. But shrugged it off as being part of the shock she was still experiencing.
She sighed and looked up at Jubal. Then she asked him the question she was positive she didn't want to know. "Did Christiana make that wish because she didn't want to marry Darien?"
Jubal relented, "Yes."
"There must have been a good reason, then, for her to want out of it so bad that she wanted to be someone else!"
"You and Christiana may look alike, but your in many ways different. She has been pampered in her twenty years, after all she is the earl's only child. She's a sweet girl, just rather…spoiled," he said carefully. "She didn't relished giving up her independence. And when she realized that her father could not be talked out of the marriage, she was devastated. She knew that life with Darien would mean the end to her carefree life."
"End?" Kristy asked, trying to comprehend what he was trying to tell her. "What kind of a man is he?"
"He's the kind of man who needs a strong woman like yourself. You see, Kristy, you have a talent for seeing people as they are on the inside and not what they appear to be. You can be a great help to Darian. He needs you but its going to take time before he will realize it."
This whole thing was getting complicated. "I'm not here just because two desperate women made a hasty wish, am I. I'm here because you're also looking after Darian's well being." He nodded and they sat there in silence.
"So…when does this marriage take place?"
For the first time since she'd been in his presence, Jubel actually hesitated over his next words. "Well…today."
"Today?" she shreiked. "Today? I can't even have time to get adjusted to this time frame? You are just going to suddenly thrust me into a marriage with this Darian the Barbarian, and expect me to be happy over it?" She was sure now tht she had reached hysteria.
"Please, we must get down to details. We have very little time left."
Feeling nothing but numbness, she allowed him to lead her back to her seat and sit her down in a crude looking chair. He then placed a chair in front of her and sat down. "Now, your father is William, Lord of Cranbrook. You mother, however, passed away when you were quite young and you need not have to remember much about her. You call you father, Papa. Your ladies maid is called Nan and the rest doesn't matter. Christiana never paid much attention to them anyway." He studied the parchment he held in his hands. "Oh, yes. You must refer to your fiancé when you greet him today as 'my lord'. After you are married then I'm sure he'll set the tone as to what you'll be calling one another. And that is going to be all I'll be able to tell you because, in just a few moments, Christiana will awaken and I must be there." He got up and then went to another trunk that lay beside the bed and retrieved some sort of leather covered bundles.
"These are Christiana's journals. She was quite specific in her writings of everyday life and I assure you they'll be quite a help to you in the future, as your own journals will prove the same for her. And of course I took the liberty of putting it into modern English writing for you. You would not be able to understand much of the medieval writings." He handed the volumes to her and she instinctively hug them to her as if they were a life source.
"I will appear to you from time to time when I think it necessary so don't be alarmed when I do." He took her hand and gave it a fatherly squeeze and whispered. "Take care," and before she could blink, he had vanished.
"Jubal! Jubal come back!" she cried. She carelessly toss the journals on the bed and looked anxiously around the room trying to find him. Of course, it proved fruitless. Hadn't he just disappeared before her very eyes? "Jubal..." she whimpered helplessly to the air.
She frantically glanced about the room and wondered how in the world was she supposed to handle this. Running her hand through her long tresses she paced the stone floor, trying to formulate a game plan in her head. There just had to be away out of this, but how? It wasn't as if she could hope on a plane and head back for New York. When it didn't even exist, yet!
She wanted to cry and just when she decided that she had a darn, good reason to do so, a pleasantly plump lady, dressed like a servant came bustling through, pushing back the huge wooden bedroom doors.
Kristy, who was standing at the foot of the bed, froze. And a wide—eyed look of fear entered her eyes. The woman looked up about that time and returned the same look, but quickly relax and smiled. She dropped a quick curtsy and greeted, "Milady! Oh but you gave me a fright!" She set the tray that she held on a nearby table and gave her a knowing smile. "I've never known you to be up so early before, course it's not everyday a lady gets married, now is it." The woman who Kristy now assumed must be Nan, stepped behind a panel adorn with tapestry and brought out a beautiful gown of ivory silk and laid it out on the bed and started brushing out the wrinkles.
Realizing she hadn't said a word she rushed out, "No! Please, you've got to help me. I need to speak to Lord William. I'm not who you think I am. There's been a crazy mistake…you must believe me."
Nan looked at her mistress with hands on hips and a look much like an ever patient mother would wear with her over active child. "Now, my lady, I was afraid you'd try some sort of foolery, this morning, and I must admit, claiming your someone else is quite imaginative, but it'll not work! And that is a very clever accent you've mimicked, I've never heard the likes of it before." She poured some sort of liquid into a silver cup and held it out to her. "Now, drink a little of this, my lady, and we must make haste to ready you for your wedding."
Kristy found herself gulping down the liquid and grimaced once she had emptied the small cup. "Jeez, this is awful. What is it?"
Nan once again looked patiently at her and answered. "You know that is my tea made of herb, my lady, you drink it every morn."
"Look, I really have to talk to Lord William. This wedding today cannot take place until I can trade places with Christiana. Please, won't you listen..." But she could see her words were making no impact. Eyeing the open door to the chamber she decided on a course of action.
"Is Lor...I mean my father in his chamber on this wing?" she asked innocently.
"Yes, he is, but he is not to be disturbed. You shall meet him shortly in the hall with your bride groom."
With a triumphant smile she flew to the door and after quickly scanning the hallway, she decided the lord of the castle's chambers would definitely be behind the biggest set of doors.
As she padded rapidly down the hallway. She heard Nan's distraught voice calling after her. "Lady Christiana, you are not properly dress... .Oh, don't go in there....
It took every ounce of her nervous strength to push open the huge wooden door and when she finally accomplished it, she barged in through the opening and right into a massive chest cloaked in soft leather.
"Good God, Christiana! What the devil are you about, in such a state of undress!" the voice that belonged to the large body barked. She then felt two grips of steel enclose about her shoulders, pushing her back to face him.
"I...uh...I.." she stammered helplessly. If she hadn't been so shocked she would have probably been scared clean out of her wits! The face that glared down at her was that of a man in his late forties or early fifties. Gray hair streaked through his ebony locks that matched the strong arched brows that loomed over the angry crystal blue eyes. His features were stormy and his lips set in a grim line. And at 5' 11' she was not used to having to look so high up to meet a man's face. She was positive he must be at least 6'3"or 4" and his body was large, not with excess fat, but with hard bulging muscles that one would not expect from a man of his age.
"So speak, daughter, but if this is about your wedding, I will not hear no more of your persistent arguing. You will marry the earl and that is that!" bellowed the man who Kristy now knew was Christiana's father. .
Feeling relieved that she had indeed entered the right chamber, she quickly found her tongue. "Please, sir, I have something important to tell you. I'm not your dau…
He quickly released his hold on her and interrupted, throwing his hands on the sides of his head, "Deliver me, Lord, from such play acting!" he sighed, closing his eyes as if in prayer. "Who in Heaven's name has an accent such as this! Surely you can do better than that, Christiana!" he exclaimed mockingly as he shook his head and eyed her skeptically.
Kristy floundered a bit. Wasn't anybody going to listen? "I'm not your daughter!" she shouted at him. But instead of showing concern or alarm the great bear of a man just stood there and laughed! She then did a completely childish thing and stomped her foot in anger. This, of course, only made him laugh louder. "I'm telling you the truth."
Lord William wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and chuckled as he spoke, "Oh, my dear, but you do come up with the most amusing antics! So please finish your story! How is it, then, that you are not my daughter, this morn."
Taking a deep breath, Kristy fought to bring her ire under control. "Sir, I am telling you the truth. I am from the twentieth century. Last night I made a wish on a star that I would become someone else. Your daughter made the same wish as I. A guardian angel named Jubal decided to intervene and granted our wishes. We look exactly alike, so that is why … Please sir! This is NOT a laughing matter!"
By now the baron was doubled over with laughter. He held out his hand helplessly in a plea for her to stop. "Oh please, no more! This, I must admit, is the most outrageous of your tales." He finally brought himself under control but his eyes still danced on his attractive face as he regarded his daughter.
Kristy realized she was getting nowhere. Shoot! It even sounded unbelievable to her own ears and she was the one living in this bizarre nightmare!
She found herself being turned around towards the door and given a gentle push. "Now make haste to your chambers, milady, and ready yourself for your bridegroom. And no more walking the halls in your state of dress!" he called after her as she walked dejectedly back to Christiana's chamber.
Now what? It didn't look like anybody in this uncivilized century was going to believe her. And no wonder! This Christiana, whose place she had taken, must have been the Katherine Hepburn of her day!
Nan was waiting for her, nervously wringing her hands and behind her appeared two other servant girls who looked to be about her own age. They ushered her once again into the room and began to ready her for this terrible event that she wasn't so sure, now, that she'd be able to stop.

Chapter 2

Darian Maxwell paced the great hall of Cranbrook castle like some kind of caged animal, a dark impatient look was etched like stone upon his face. The servant that brought he and his knights ale, had nervously and quickly served the drinks and then made a hasty exit, uncomfortable around such a foreboding man.
To those who weren't intimately acquainted with this great hulk of a man, Just the sight of him could strike apprehension and fear. His hair was nearly black and fell to his shoulders. Dark eyebrows arched over cold gray eyes that were thickly trimmed by equally dark eyelashes. A straight nose and a square jaw were clear evidences of his noble heritage. Were his face not always drawn in such hard grim lines, he could easily be an extremely handsome man. Not that he didn't have his share of women as his beck and call. No, there were a lot of woman, high and low born that found his mean countenance exciting and weren't shy about letting it be known.
But there had been no woman that had been able to touch his heart——not since his first wife, Isabella.
Isabella. His first love. His beloved wife. And for a time, his whole life. Then.....his betrayer. The grim lines deepened as the thought of her ripped through his chest like a ever persistent knife. She was dead now. Dead from her own foolish actions.
And his heart had died right along with her.
Sir Tilden, his chief knight of the guard, studied his lord's features silently from his place by the hearth. He could almost guess at the thoughts that were racing through Earl Greytone's mind. He decided that whether it was his place or not, he must speak up.
"My lord, you will indeed scare your young bride to death if you continue to look thus."
Darian stopped his pacing just long enough to send his knight a quelling look, which Sir Tilden pointedly ignored. "I do not recall asking for your opinion of my appearance, Tilden," he growled in a low menacing tone.
Tilden lifted a blond brow and returned Darian's glare, unwavering. "No, you did not. But, my old friend, you are sorely in need of someone's opinion." He lifted his goblet to summons a servant to refill it then continued. "And even though you have been, how shall I put it...,requested by his highness to wed the girl, she is assuredly one of England's most sought after maidens. Its said her beauty outshines that of the most beautiful rose. I promise King Richard did it as a favor and not as a cruel gesture, as you seem to think!"
Sighing Darian stalked over to the hearth that Tilden stood by and gazed down into the blazing fire as he crossed his great arms across his wide chest. "I know that Richard meant well and I have no doubt that this girl will not be hideous to look upon. But you forget, sir knight, that I care not for a wife, nay for any woman to share my life with me, except it be in my bed. Yet I desire a son. And for that I must marry," he shrugged as if none of it mattered.
"Not all women are like Isabella, my lord." Tilden spoke quietly.
"I will not discuss Isabella!" he growled as he turned from the hearth and resumed his pacing.
"But surely you cannot deny that the lady deserves a chance...."
Suddenly Darian was before him and had grasped the front of his tunic pulling him so that they were standing nearly nose to nose. With rage in his dark gray eyes he grated, "I said I do not want to discuss it. But just for the record let me say this once and only once. When Isabella betrayed me, she destroyed what love I could give a woman. Killed it. There is nothing, no one, that can give life to it again. No one, do you hear?" And just as suddenly as he had grabbed the knight, he quickly let go, leaving Tilden to stumble back a few paces and bump against the stone wall.
Tilden fought to bring his fury under control. It would accomplish nothing to strike back at the earl, except maybe to assure him of a few sore bruises! And knowing Darian as he had for so many years, he understood. Understood the reason why he was hard and callous. Understood that behind that unyielding mask he wore, there was a man who had deep scars.
Darian and he had grown up together as lads. His father had been a knight of the old earl and he had taught both of them the skills and codes of knighthood. Darian had worked harder than both of them in his quest to become a knight. Not because he greatly desired the honor, but because he wanted so desperately to gain his fathers recognition and approval. But because he was the youngest son, he received neither. Just cold indifference.
The earl was only concerned with his eldest son. Aron, his heir. And so it went as such for years. Darian was sent to the Earl of Castlebrook at the ten as a page, then at the tender age of fourteen had acquired the honor few that age could boast of and that was a squire. And just as quickly he rose to the rank of knight. It was then he had fallen hopeless in love with the earl's niece, Isabella and had married her.
Soon he was the most heralded knight in King Henry II's army. He fought bravely and proudly for the old king when situations arose. But came home to his manor at Sedgwick, lands he had inherited from his mother, often, not wanting to stray from his beloved's side to long. Only to be betrayed by her and one of his own knights, when he had returned home early.
Not long after that, Richard took the throne and three months later, Darian was off the holy lands to fight the Saracens at what was the beginning of the third crusade. Tilden had joined him and could have sworn that many times whilst Darian fought, he cared naught whether he lived or he died.
It was two years and later, only three months ago that Darian received word from Greystone that his father and brother had been killed during an attack on their land, therefore the title of Earl of Greystone fell to Darian. The king ordered him home to see about his lands and people and then 'suggested' he marry to secure his title, and produce an heir. But he had not ended it there. Before Darian departed with his men to journey back to England. Richard had remembered meeting the Lady Christiana of Cranbrook and found her beautiful and amusing. He immediately drew up the papers declaring one Darian, Earl of Greystone would be joined in holy matrimony to one, Christiana, Lady of Cranbrook to take place immediately after the young earl, of only seven and twenty years, had returned and settled in at Greystone.
Tilden. as one of his guard, returned with him. And as he watched his friend continue to brood about on this glorious morning at Cranbrook, he could not help but offer up a prayer to God that the Lady Christiana would somehow do the impossible and reach his stone cold heart.
***********
A few minutes later, the Lord of Cranbrook bounded through the double door into the great hall, he's searching eyes quickly landed on the man who was to be son—in—law. It brought him no comfort to see the dark, giant of a man in person, for in truth he was as everyone had told him he'd be. Big, tall, and frightening...and a countenance as hard as rock. He could well imaged all the fantastic tales told of this knight were undoubtedly true.
And he was sending his only daughter straight into his clutches. That thought brought a shiver to ripple down his spine. He wished to God that he had the power to stop this wedding, but, alas, the king's word was law. And even though Richard had been away for nearly the entirety of his reign, he still would not tolerate being crossed.
With great dignity he threw back his shoulders and walked up to the young earl. "Ah Lord Maxwell! You seemed to have caught us off guard by your early arrival, so I must humbly apologize for not being prepared to greet you properly!" William's booming voice seemed to bounce off the castles stone walls as he clasped hands with his future son—in—law.
"'Tis I who should apologize. Lord William, but I have been sent orders from King Richard. He has asked me to check on a matter concerning his brother, Prince John. I am to leave on the morrow at first light. Therefore I beg your forgiveness in having to request that the ceremony be performed as soon as possible. Lady Christiana and I will leave for Greystone directly afterward." He spoke it pleasantly enough, but his face was devoid of emotion as if he speaking of a business arrangement instead of a marriage.
"Good God, Greystone! You can't mean to marry my daughter and just drop her off at that castle of yours where she knows no one!" Lord William roared indignantly.
Those gray eyes were as cold as his voice when he spoke, "It cannot be helped, my lord. Greystone will now be Christiana's home. She will be well taken care of in my absence."
Lord William reasoned, "If you are pressed for time, why not just leave Christiana here 'til your return from London. There is no reason why she can't delay her trip to Greystone for naught but a few days."
Darian eyed William, a small cynical smile curling his lip. "No reason, except that my wife will dwell in my home. She has much to see to. Its better that she familiarize herself with the workings of Greystone as soon as possible."
He turned away from William and picked his ale up from a small table. "I requested that the wedding be a small affair. Therefore I see no reason why, hastening the ceremony by a few hours will make any difference."
Inwardly William sighed with resignation. Of course, it would make no difference. But, by all that's holy, this cold unfeeling man standing before him, was taken from him the only joy that he had in this life. His Christiana. He would defiantly make a point of visiting his castle frequently. And by God he better treat her right.....
He nodded to a servant and sent the message that the wedding would be taking place immediately.
***************
As a model, Kristy was used to being stripped down and thrust in clothes by other people. In fashion shows, time was of the essence and she'd often go on the runway wondering if she had everything in its right place. And this morning had felt no different. When they'd gotten the message, that the wedding would take place this morning, Nan and the girls had went to work right away on making her into a proper bride.
They had gotten her into the gown made of white silk that Nan had called a tunic then over that went another garment called a blunt made of the most beautiful shade of peach she'd ever laid eyes on. They then fasten a large jeweled golden belt around her slim waist. Nan ushered her to a chair and began brushing her hair out.
"My lady!" Nan gasped. "Have you cut your hair?"
Kristy gritted her teeth together. "No I did not cut my hair. Andre, cut it last Saturday at his saloon. I've tried to tell you for the hundredth time that I am NOT Christiana. I'm Kristy.."
"Aye, we know the story, milady." said in a tired, overtired voice as she continued her brushing.
Nan placed a silk head covering atop her hair and over that was set a circlet of fine gold set with sapphires. Fran stepped forward and draped a mantle of deep blue about her shoulders. It was made of velvet and trimmed with a white fur. At her shoulder they placed a broach, once again set with sapphires.
Kristy had her head bent admiring the dress when she heard a quick intake of breath. She anxiously looked up to and was taken back at their faces. It was awe, pure unconcealed, awe.
"My lady....you are absolutely beautiful!" Fran reverently whispered.
"Aye, the earl will be well pleased when he sees you, Lady Christiana." Nan agreed nodding slowly. She then turned to Penny and instructed, "Go down and tell Lord William that his daughter is ready."
Kristy decided for one last plea for help. "Please. Nan. You have to help me escape. I can't marry this Darian—man." She grabbed the servants arm and begged like her life depended on it. "Nan.. .Please. As God as my witness, I am not Christiana," she cried, and was please to see a hesitation in Nan's face.
She looked with pity at her mistress and spoke softly, "Sweet goodness, you are really scared to marry the earl aren't you. I've never see you take your acting this far…" She shook her head wondering whether she should risk the wrath of the master or not. She had heard frightening stories of Darian of Greystone as a knight. She knew her lady had heard them, also. She was positive she did not want that man hurting her mistress.
"I'll help you," she said with more bravery than she felt. After checking down the hall, she hurriedly motioned towards Kristy for her to follow. They darted down the long dark hallway that was lighted only by the candles that were placed on the walls. She was then led down a narrow stair well that Kristy assumed was for the servant's use. It smelt damp and musty and she could barely see where the next step was. Suddenly her path was flooded by a burst of light. It was sunlight. Nan was standing by an opened door leading to the castle grounds.
"Go to the stables, to you right, milady. The young lad, Landis, is minding the horses, this morn. As you know, he'll do for you anything you ask. I suppose you have a mind to ride to your uncles manor over yon hill?" Kristy nodded, though clueless as to what she was talking about. "Pleased, by careful, milady. There be bandits out near the Black Forest. Now hurry along!"
Kristy ran as best she could in such confining clothing. She spotted the stables and picked up her skirts to make the rest of the distance. She bounded through the huge doorway and nearly collided with a boy that looked about sixteen years old.
"Landis?" she asked breathlessly hoping that she was correct. The boy, however, stood there a second, wide-eyed and mouth dropped open, gapping at her legs. She followed his gaze to where she had her dress pulled up around her knees and couldn't fathom at what was wrong with him.
"Landis! Listen to me!" she demanded.
The boy seemed to snap from his awe struck trance and mumbled, "Milady?"
"A horse, Landis. I need a horse!"
"Of..of course, milady." He ran to the third stall and brought from it a beautiful auburn mare. As he handed over the reigns, Landis asked her curiously, "Is it not your wedding day, Milady?"
She let out an impatient breath and replied as calmly as she could, "Of course, this is my wedding day. I just feel the need for a ride this morning, all right?" She placed a hand on the boy's smooth cheek and gave him the smile that made her famous as a model.
Landis resorted back to the awe-struck, dreamy look, he'd worn earlier. "Yes, Milady," he whispered, his breath completely taken from him.
She pulled on the reigns and led the horse outside.
"Milady, wait! I have not saddled her…" his voice drifted off in total disbelief as he saw the lady hike up her skirts past her knees and throw her pale legs over the horses bare back and take off like lightening.
"She's WHAT?" Lord William roared loudly at the plump ladies maid who stood there before him, shaking in her slippers.
"La...Lady Christiana....milord, has run..away..." Nan stammered, wishing she had not been so hasty in helping her ladyship with this escapade.
"What does she mean, Cranbrook?" Darian's deep voice bellowed from across the hall. In just a few long strides he, too, was towering over the poor servant. She was sure any moment she would faint and part of her prayed she would.
William sent a glance over to the earl and almost cringed at the ominous look that was set in his face. "I'm afraid, my lord earl, that my daughter was less than happy at his majesty's arrangement of her marriage to you. She has taken it upon herself to run away," he explained, his voice hard, almost accusing.
Darian narrowed his eyes as he studied the baron. And said equally as hard, "Then she will have to found, won't she." Then with a voice of command he ordered, "Tilden, Vachel, we shall begin our search."
The three of them strode out of the castle. By the looks on their frightening faces one would think they were riding out to do battle instead of searching for a mere girl.
But a battle was exactly what Darian knew he had on his hands. He thought by the way Richard talked he was to be given a soft, docile wife but instead it appeared he had instead been given an impulsive child.
But he would not put up with such childish antics. Indeed,he would see this girl tamed and demand obedience.

CHAPTER 3

The cold crisp England air ripped through the garment Kristy wore as if she were wearing nothing. The velvet mantle flying with the wind behind her offered nothing in the way of warmth. And her bottom was getting raw from straddling the horses bare back, while the muscles in her thighs were crying in pain from clamping tightly around the mares middle and trying not to fall off.
All in all, Kristy feared she had made a hasty and stupid mistake.
Remarkably, no one had seen her as she rode off the grounds. Either they were too busy to look up or they were in their cottages. And now as she reached what looked like a road, she wasn't all together sure just where she'd planned on going in the first place. If she just knew where Christiana's uncle lived she could go there. But where in the heck was 'yon hill' as Nan had so Englishly put it?
Her stomach growled in protest of the breakfast it missed, and she was shivering from the damp. October air. She nudged her mount on up the road and stopped when she came to a trail leading into the woods.
An idea began forming in her mind. She decided to hide out in the forest for most of the day and by the evening she would go back to the castle and hope that Darian the barbarian was gone by then.
Carefully she dismounted and smoothed her skirts back into place. As quietly as she could, she lead the horse into the dark trees and soon found a clearing where she was sure that she wouldn't be seen from the road.
She sat on the cold, wet ground and wrapped her mantle tight around her shivering form. Good grief! But this place was spooky. It was broad daylight outside but where she sat there was only small rays shooting through the thickly leafed trees, making everything look dim. And Kristy was sure she heard every eerie sound imaginable the first fifteen minutes out there.
She felt a pair of eyes on her and she looked up to find the mare she'd ridden staring down at her. She snapped at her, "What are you looking at, you stupid animal? I know this was an idiotic idea. Wishes! Bah! I'll never make another wish as long as I live!" She pulled irritatingly at the mantle trying to pull it closer, doing not a bit of good.
"Do you make a habit of talking to animals? Or were you referring to me?"
"No I don't always talk to…" she started to answer the deep voice that came from the direction of her horse, but her heart stopped and her eyes grew round as she began to realize that horses don't talk. That meant she now had company!
Jumping up she peered over her horse and met with a pair of cool gray eyes. Her eyes then took in the rest of him and immediately realized that this was the man she'd seen riding up to the castle this morning.
"You!" she cried, her eyes showing her surprise.
A dark eyebrow quirked up and the man, who was standing there with huge arms crossed over his chest, answered dryly. "Me?"
For a second she was too stunned to move. Never, never had any man (or any woman for that matter) spoken to her in such a condescending manner. And she was mad at herself for not standing up to him, but some sane, common sense part of her seemed to remind her that she was living in a different time, in another part of the world. A world that didn't have the ideals that were bred in her all her life, ruled by men who looked at woman as nothing more than a vessel for breeding their offspring and treated as second class citizens.
For now she decided to back down, but just this once. Once they reached the castle she would think of something else. Standing alone in a forest with a barbarian who could easily do her harm was not the time and place to pick a fight.
Kristy resentfully turned to her horse but nearly let out a groan when she looked at it's bare back. How in the world was she going to find a graceful way to mount and ride without stirring his dander up again?
Too late! "What, may I ask, is now the problem?" his deep voice barked causing her to wince.
She stared up at him with narrowed eyes and a pursed set of lips. She'd run into muggers that were nicer than this big oaf! "You don't have to yell at me, I'm not deaf. But you must be blind because if you could see, you would notice that I don't have a saddle, Sherlock!"
Of course the 'Sherlock' totally escaped him, the rest of her words did not. "You to tell me that you rode out hear with a saddle?"
"I was in a hurry!"
A sudden picture of her appeared in his mind. He could almost imagine a pair of lily white, shapely legs as they gripped the sides of her horse, her tunic gathered high above her knees....With a determined forcefulness he shook his wayward thoughts to the back of his mind and concentrated on the problem at hand.
He swore then. Loudly and colorfully. "God save me from idiotic women!" He raged toward heaven, throwing his arms upward then letting them fall heavy against his legs.
In two seconds he was mounted on his horse and another two, he had grabbed her up with one arm and planted her sideways in front of him. This put her sitting much to close for comfort in his lap. He then slapped the mare's rear and immediately it fled the direction from where they had come. With a nudge from his spurs they soon followed.
They rode in complete and very uneasy silence the whole way back to Cranbrook castle. And sitting across his legs as she was, totally unnerving her to no end. And it didn't help that his brutish arm was clamped tightly around her waist, holding her body flush up against his rock solid chest. Consciously she held herself ridged, refusing to allow her head to rest against his neck.
An emotion that she wasn't well acquainted with was surfacing at an alarming rate. It was fear. Fear, not from what she thought he might be capable of doing to her, nor from his callous threats. It was a fear of herself, what she was feeling, how her body was reacting being so close to him. Fear of how her heart wanted to reach out to him when she caught a glimpse of the well hidden unhappiness lingering in his eyes.
And that's why she wouldn't dare relax her head and give in to him. Because she felt once her cool cheek pressed against the warmness of that thick beautiful neck she would lose the will to fight this marriage. He was the type of man a woman could lose her heart too. But he was most certainly the type of man that could easily rip that same heart to pieces.
A stubbornness appeared in her blue eyes and a streak of pride came nudging through to the forefront of her thoughts. Besides, she soundly reminded herself, the man is a total cad. He walks about on God's green earth as if all it's inhabitant should bow down and obey his every command. So what if he's drop dead handsome. Big deal! Pretty is as pretty does, as her grandma so often reminded her, and so far his personality hasn't exactly come up smelling like roses!
Remember that Kristy, remember that! But her resolve slipped a notch as she felt his warm breath as it gently touched her ear.
She clenched her eyes tightly and pleaded inwardly, Jubal, please get me out of this!
Jubal, looking down on the couple as they entered the castle gate from his perch up in the heavens, just smiled a smile that said 'everything is working as planned'..... and remained… silent.
********
The time had come. With a sinking heart, Kristy felt the weight of what was now going to happen bear heavily upon her. How could she have known? How could she have known that a silly impetuous wish would have sent her to this unbelievable fate! It had all the makings of a Twilight Zone episode. But this wasn't TV and Rod Serling wasn't around the corner recounting the details. This was real. Bizarre. But, unfortunately, real.
And in just a few short minuets she was to become the Countess of Greystone. Correction, Christiana was becoming a countess, but until she could convince Jubal to ship her out of her and back to the twentieth century, she was Christiana of Cranbrook whether she liked it or not.
When they had returned to the castle, she had made one last ditch effort to persuade Lord William that she was not his daughter. But the man obviously didn't spend enough quality time to get to know his daughter or either he was too distraught over losing Christiana to such a threatening man, because Kristy was sure that her parents would have known right away that someone had switched places with her, dead ringer or not!
But then again, being that Christiana was so obviously given to theatrics, her story merely sounded like a desperate final ploy to escape this unwanted union.
Nan stepped back, looking Kristy over and admiring the wonderful job she had done on making her into a beautiful bride. "Well, milady, at least you look from the outside like a proper bride for an earl, if only you would try to look a mite bit chipper and take that awful frown from your face. 'Tis nothing you can do but marry the man and be done with it." she said with a sigh.
Kristy returned the sigh and looked with trepidation at the huge wooden doors leading into the small but charming chapel. "You're right, Nan. I guess I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind it would take place whether I wanted it to or not, I just had to try." And hadn't Jubal said that here whole wish would be granted? A wish that included the emotion of love? That and that alone gave her the only hope she could cling to.
"I'm ready to go in, now," she said with remarkable strength in her voice and tilted her chin upward in a show of determination. She had gotten through trials and problems before, she would get through this, too.
Lord William met Kristy at the doors and gave her a loving, fatherly hug and walked with her into the chapel.
Darian watched as the doors opened and his bride came walking in. From the outside, one might think he cared not a thought for the beauty walking to him with boldness shining in her crystal blue eyes. But from the inside, it clearly was not a case of not caring or not feeling for, in fact, it was just the opposite. But what exactly he felt, that Darian did not know. Lust, maybe? It could be. From the moment he laid eyes on her something ignited in him, the very sound of that soft voice stirred his blood and made him want to put his hands on her and taste of her lips.
Aye, that was lust. And that would be good. It would make it much more pleasurable to see to the task of getting her with child. And though she referred to him as a barbarian, he knew that she wasn't totally indifferent to him. He could almost read her thoughts as they rode back this morning from the forest, as she struggled to hold herself ridged against him, unwilling to touch him more than she had to.
The thought of someday loving her never once entered his mind. To him that wasn't an option or a choice. It just could simply never be. Only a fool would put total trust in another human being. Only a fool left himself vulnerable to the chance of being hurt. And after twice being made such a fool, Darian would not allow a third.
Kristy saw Darian's dark glaze rake her figure from top to bottom and then back up again. There was definitely something different about this look in his eyes than before. Where his eyes this morning had been cold, now they were....Geez! They were practically blazing! She decided right then and there that she much preferred the cold ones rather than the ones she was staring into now. She felt like one of those poor lobsters in a restaurant tank that some hungry customer was eyeing greedily.
Forcing herself to look ahead at the homely but pleasant looking friar, she finished her march down the aisle, released Lord Williams arm and stood next to her betrothed. As she stood there, the whole ceremony seemed to go in slow motion, not seeming to make any sense. It just didn't seem real.
For heaven's sakes, just last night she'd been crying over being dumped by Cory and today she was getting married. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she still thought that at any time she was going to wake up and it was all going to be a dream. With sudden inspiration she reached down and gave her leg a good hard pinch.
Nothing happened. It has to be real. It's not a dream. Or maybe I'm going crazy.....
She felt Darian stir beside her and she saw that his hand was stretched out to her, palm up. She looked at him curiously.
"Your hand, Christiana. For the ring..." he whispered, but not very gently. It was clear that he was irritated that she was not paying attention.
She mouthed an "Oh!" and placed her hand into his very warm one. She almost jerked it back in surprise. She expected it to be cold, not the warm, alive touch of a real human being. A real man....
The ring that he slipped on her finger was absolutely the most beautiful piece of jewelry that she'd ever seen. Nothing in all of Tiffany's could compare to it. The ring was made up of thin, delicate gold wires, weaved into swirling patters that resembled dainty leaves. And embedded in the leaves were emeralds of the most brilliant shade of green.
She then heard the friar announce that they were now man and wife and said something about sealing the union with a kiss.
Kristy looked up nervously at Darian and saw that he was staring down at her with a strange light in his eyes. Oh Boy! He's going to kiss me! Somehow that knowledge caused her stomach to flutter and her heart rate to quicken.
But her heart quickly resumed its normal pace. Maybe even slowed a bit....with disappointment. You really couldn't have called it a kiss. It was merely a pressing of the lips, over and done with such a high rate of speed she wondered if they had touched at all. It reminded her of the kiss Billy Simmons gave her in the third grade at recess.
But that kiss had sealed her fate. She was married. She was no longer a model with schedules, long tiring working hours, and no time or privacy for herself. She was a wife. No longer Kristy Kendrick, but Christiana, Countess of Greystone.
Her wish had come true.
Almost...
Because what was being a wife without the love to go along with it. She could have accomplished this much in the twentieth century. Men all over America would have married her if she'd ask any of them. But it wouldn't be her they wanted but the image of Kristy Kendrick, the model who had graced the cover of the bathing suit edition of their favorite sport's magazine, clad in that peep show of a bikini they had put on her. Those men wouldn't care what her favorite songs were or whether or not she like Chinese food. Or that she like to take long walks in the mornings, with not a bit of makeup on, clad in old gray sweats.
Would Darian ever come to care for her, or would he stay that cold, unmerciful hard man that she had come to know? And could she be happy living in a world totally alien to her? Could she leave behind her sister and her successful career? Would it be enough just to have Darian's love?
She sighed as they left the chapel and rode out into the sunshine.
Right now, she wasn't sure about anything.

CHAPTER 4

As the serfs were loading up the large wagon with Christiana's things, along with the coveted journals and the *******s of her dowry, several guests had started to arrive at the castle. Most were dressed in elaborate costume and many were surrounded by knights and servant women. And all were more than a little put out at having missed the marriage ceremony. Lord William, however, was able to sooth there feathers with the promise of feast and wine. There was no doubt that food and drink, in this century was right up there on the 'important things in life' list right along side of friends and family.
Nan, Kristy soon learned, as well as four other women would be going with her to Greystone. It amazed her that one person needed five other people to see to their needs. And to think Kristy had thought herself extravagant when she had hired a cleaning lady to come to her apartment twice a week! She then thought of Christiana, and knew the girl was in for a few surprises!
Darian was making it quite clear to the servants that he wanted no more time to be wasted. He turned down Lord William's invitation to stay for the feast and informed him they would soon depart.
Lord William, Kristy thought, looked a little teary-eyed when he enveloped her within his large arms. Kristy felt sorry that she would not have time to get to know this kind man, as she returned his embrace and kissed him softly on his weathered cheek.
***************************
It was not going to be a pleasant trip. She should have realized that after she had said her good-byes to Lord William and had started to get in the wagon beside Nan. The moment she'd lifted one foot up, a loud barking voice that could only belong to her 'darling' husband, informed her that she'd be riding at his side. "At his side" of course meant riding on that stupid horse again, only this time there was the strangest saddle she'd ever seen laying across it's backside. A side saddle. And how long had he said the trip was? A half a days ride? That would be REAL comfortable!
She rolled her eyes and shut them for a moment as if to gain strength, then looked boldly up at Darian, fist clinched tightly at her side. "I'm NOT going to ride that horse. I want to ride in the wagon with Nan and the other women." She heard his knights draw there breaths sharply at her defiant words. No one, but no one talked to his earlship in such a way. Unless, of course, they were prepared to die for it.
His jaw was visibly clinched tightly and his nostrils flared at her words. But then something flickered in the depths of his steely gaze. Good God, if all the kings men had backbone such as she was now displaying they would be unbeatable! She, a woman! He did not forget the fact that her boldness was directed against him, mind you, but he could not help but admire her courage.
Then to the utter amazement of his men and to the ladies, he threw back his head and shouted a loud laugh. Then he swung from his stallion and stood before her, staring at her through narrowed lids, his great arms crossed over his chest.
Don't back down, she warned herself. Back down? She wanted to run and hide! Mustering up every scrape of courage that she possessed, she lifted her chin to meet his stare. She couldn't imagine what he would do. Would he hit her, curse at her...Kill...No! Surely not! Jubal! she silently pleaded.
But he didn't kill, hit, or even say one mean word to her, instead, he smiled. It was such a beautiful dazzling smile that for a moment Kristy couldn't seemed to breathe.
He reached for her hand and held it with a tenderness that she had no idea he possessed, and spoke with the refined tone of an English gentleman. "Let me then rephrase my words, my lady. It would me my most profound pleasure, if you would grace me with your lovely presence, at my side, on the long ride to our home."
Kristy didn't answer right away. She was too busy standing there gaping at his smile and his pretty words to utter anything coherent. And she wasn't immune to the large warm hand engulfing her own that seemed to send shock waves to her heart, either.
"Christiana?"
"Oh!" she gushed and then her cheeks reddened as she realized she been staring like an idiot. "I...uh...yes, I'll ride with you." she answered breathlessly. If he'd asked for the moon while smiling at her like that, she would have built him a rocket.
When she turned her back to walk to her horse, she missed the smug smile that thinned the earl's lips. All women were the same. Give them a smile and some tender words and you could bend them easily to your will. And this she-cat was no different. A part of him felt a little disappointment at his easy victory. He had expected and maybe even desired more of her fiery tenacity.
She let him help her mount the mare and after an awkward moment, she figured out just where one puts their legs on the offending sidesaddle. She turned and watched Darian mount also and immediately noticed that his hard-faced mask had been once again been pulled over his features. He looked at his men and didn't even bother to glance her way as he nodded to them to go ahead.
She knew right then what a fool she'd been taken for. Gee whiz, Kendrick! How could you be so dense? Hadn't she learned her lesson with Cory? Now she was stuck riding on a saddle that was clearly not meant for comfort, riding in unfamiliar clothes, draped with a heavy fur-lined cape and doing something she had not done in years - horse riding. All because she had been taken in by his false smile and deceiving words. She was disappointed in herself.
But three hours later, with her butt sore as all get out, her back aching and stiff, her stomach growling unmercifully, she was no longer disappointed.
She was down right angry! Angry not only at herself, but at the barbarian who hadn't so much as uttered two words to her the whole time they had been riding.
"Darian, I know you're in a big anxious hurry, but do you mind if we stopped to eat?" she asked tiredly.
His hooded gaze looked her over and then he replied with a grunt, "We cannot stop. If we are to reach Greystone by nightfall then we must keep moving." He then called out to one of his guard, "Tilden, see that Lady Christiana has something to eat."
The tall fair guard circled around and came riding up beside her as Darian rode on up ahead. "Milady, we have only but bread and cheese with us. I am sorry that it is not a fitting meal for a lady such as yourself but I do hope it will suffice," Tilden replied with a smile, while holding out the loaf and a hunk of aged cheese. He had taken off his helmet and Kristy noticed he was a nice looking guy. Kristy placed him about twenty-seven years of age.
She r turned his infectious smile and took the food he offered gratefully. "It will suffice just fine, er.. .Is it Sir Tilden?"
"You, milady, may call me Tilden. Not only am I one of the earls guard, I have also been a friend to your husband and his family for many years. 1 hope to we shall be friends also," he replied pleasantly.
The anger that she' d been harboring started dissipating. It was just SO nice to talk to a friendly human being. She had begun to think that they didn't exist in this century.
Still smiling, she nodded her head to him and said. "I believe we will be friends, then." After taking a bite of bread she looked back over to the knight and remarked, "So have you known Darian, all your life?"
"Aye, that I have, milady."
She wasn't one to beat around the bush and so she thought she' d get right down to the thing that had bothered her since this morning. "Then maybe you can tell me, Tilden, why is Darian so unhappy? Who was the one that hurt him so badly that he hides behind that mask of coldness and hardness?"
He looked for a moment as if he was surprised at what she asked. "1 am sorry, my lady, but you're words have taken me back a bit. You see, I am often asked how many has he slain, how many villages has he plundered, how many women has he ravished.... but none have ever seen him as being unhappy and hurt."
Kristy swallowed hard. Slain? Plundered? Ravished!? "Uh...Tilden? Does he...uh...ravish women?" she asked hesitantly.
Tilden laughed at her terrified expression. "No, tis only a rumor."
Kristy sighed with relief.
She looked ahead and studied her husband from the back. He was a real hunk-a-rama if she ever saw one. But a very complex one. She couldn't quite understand her intuition concerning him, but she did trust him. There was a goodness buried deep within him that was barely noticeable. But she could feel it, past all his coldness
She turned her attention back to Tilden and asked, "But he is hurting, isn't he?"
"Yes, that he is," his voice weary and filled with worry.
"Why?"
Tilden looked up to find Darian glancing back at him. It was a look that said 'Take your eyes off my wife and get your arse back up here!' A mischievous twinkle lit Tilden's eyes and with a crooked smile he took the soft hand of the new countess and placed upon it, a whisper soft kiss.
A kiss that did not go unnoticed by the earl nor did the pleased smile that lit his wife's pretty face.
Tilden answered her question softly, "That, my lady, is something Darian himself will have to tell you. Now I must return before he embarrasses himself with his jealousy." And with that he returned to his post beside the other guard, Vachel and after a few exchanged words, Darian looped back around to her side.
Without looking over to her he expressed in cold, clipped firmness, "I think that I should make it quite clear to you, Christiana, that you are mine. My property. I have shared many of my things with my men but you can be assured, my lady, that I will not share you." He turned his sharp gray glare to her and warned explicitly, "You would do well to pray to God that not even the thought of betraying me enters your mind. For if I find out that you have taken another man into your bed, you will sorely regret it."
She supposed that she should be quaking with fright as his threatening words but she was not.
What she was, was indignant. "'You will regret it,'" she mocked in a perfect Norman accent. "Is that all you can threaten me with? Surely you can be more creative than that. Let's see..." She paused while dramatically stroking her chin. "How about that you'll cut out my heart and slice it into quarter inch squares and feed it to the dogs. Oh! I know! You will throw me in the dungeon and let me starve to death, while the big rats nibble off my flesh." She smiled teasingly at him but he refused to acknowledge it.
From behind her she heard a choking cough that sounded strangely like a laugh coming from her maid. But the stone wall beside her remained as unreadable as a blank page.
He didn't respond to humor, but he would respond to her defiance. "Okay. If I am to remain faithful to you, then I will demand the same from you."
He snorted good and loud. "You are hardly in the position to demand anything of me. I will do bloody well what I please."
"Are you saying that you'll take up with other women if the urge happens to hit you?" she asked lividly.
"As I have told your father, Christiana, you will be well taken care of. You'll want for nothing. What I do should be no concern of yours. We hardly even no one another," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.
She blinked a couple of times at him not believing what she was hearing. "I'll want for nothing? What if I happen to want a husband who is faithful to me? Do I get that?" He remained silent and she blew out a frustrated breath of air.
That was that. If he was going to be unfaithful to her, then she couldn't allow herself to fall in love with him. That wouldn't be hard, She thought sarcastically. There wasn't much there to love!
They rode side by side in silence for at least a mile, while she mulled over his words and their strange relationship. Then she looked over at his profile.
"I know that we are not in love, Darian, but you are my husband and that bonds us," she spoke softly after much thought. She turned away from his gaze, and lifted her chin with dignity. "I am asking that you remain faithful to me because I know how it feels when you find out that you've been betrayed. I'd rather not have to go through that again," she finished dully.
Darian looked at her skeptically, "You? What would you know of betrayal?"
She didn't miss the pain behind his otherwise flat words. "I know a great deal about it, although you are determined not to believe me. But you've known betrayal, haven't you?" The question was more of a statement of fact. She was surprised when he answered her.
"Aye. I've known it," came his grim reply.
She smiled bitterly. "And you are not going to even give me a chance, are you."
He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. He couldn't - wouldn't do it, though. "You are my wife. And I will protect you with my life, but that is all I can offer."
She looked at him with a touch of pity in her lovely blue eyes and whispered as soft as the breeze, "That's sounds real lonely, Earl Greystone."
Again he answered her with his cold silence.
She took a deep breath and spoke with a strong determination in her silky voice. "Well, Darian, the way I see it is that we are stuck with each other. We're not in love. We are total and complete strangers - in more ways than you could know. But we might as well make the best of this situation, and I for one am going to do just that." There. She had said it. The ball was going to be in his court from this point on.
Darian didn't like what he was feeling. It was the same feeling he felt as a boy. The need to want to believe. The need to trust in something.
It was that same need that always lead to hurt, always lead to disappointment.
And there was the other feeling that was coursing strongly through his body. It was desire. He couldn't remember a time when looking at a woman would almost make him break into a sweat. He ached with wanting her, and it was an ache that need not go unmet.
He reigned his horse nearer to her and reached out and cupped her chin in his palm. He gave her a searing look that made her tremble and spoke softly and assuredly, "Tonight, my wife, you will truly belong to me. And believe me when I tell you that there is no other woman that I wish to share my bed with this night. Only you. That is one promise that I intend on keeping... and enjoying." He then withdrew he hand and turned his attention back to the road.
Kristy tried her best not to look shocked but she was. Somehow she had unconsciously forgotten about that. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her nerves.
A twenty-year-old girl who was still a virgin, living in New York City, was a rare thing indeed. But Kristy's parents had brought her up with strong moral values. She had wanted to save her first sexual experience for the man she would marry. It, however, never occurred to her that she'd marry someone she didn't know, much less love. And what if she was did go back to the year 1999? Once she gave herself to this man would she be able to leave him forever?
But none of that really mattered. Tonight, whether she wanted it or not, she would share his bed. What Darian of Greystone wanted, he usually got. And Kristy had no doubt that he wanted her.
***************************
The brilliant orange sun had just fallen below the horizon, and the sky was beginning to dim as an array of fuchsia, violet and gold hues streaked upon Heaven's canvass. And there on in front of them on a raised plane, was the biggest, monstrosity of stone walls that Kristy had ever seen.
It was quite something for a gal from the good ole U.S. to behold. And this was now her home. She almost smiled when she thought of what Danni's face would look like if she could show her, her new 'house'. But then she remembered that she may never get to show Danni anything ever again and her joy faded.
When they rode into Greystone's vast lands they were met with a resounding cheer. For there all along the rode way were the peasants and serfs of the village all gathered to together in hopes of seeing their new countess and welcoming them home.
It reminded her of the last Macy's Christmas parade she had ridden in. And so she did what came natural and smiled and waved at their friendly faces.
Darian face noted surprise at his wife's actions. She was waving and greeting the serfs as if they were all long lost friends and, he noted, that they all wore expressions of complete awe of their beautiful countess. He nearly called out at her that she must not appear to friendly to the commoners but then he stopped himself.
He realized that she was not trying to be on their level, rather she was showing them that they were her people now and that she cared about them. He felt a shot of pride of his young bride. And it made him rest a little easier at having to leave her on the morrow. It would only be for seven days and he was sure that she would be all right.
When they reached the castle bridge, Darian dismounted and help her down from the mare. His firm touch at her waist spread awareness through her. But he didn't linger. As soon as she was on the ground he grasped her elbow and led her into the castle.
The great hall was somewhat similar to that of Cranbrook but on a larger more lavish scale. Yards of purple velvet edged with golden ropes draped elaborately on the castle walls. Great pieces of fur were strewn like rugs over the cold stone floors. Several large, wooden tables were placed strategically around the room to accommodate the many that dined and entertained there.
And there, hanging above them, was a large chandelier that contained so many candles that Kristy couldn't image how they accomplished lighting them all. The other source of light came from the fireplace at the back of the hall and hanging above it was the portrait of man that was devilishly handsome and looked remarkably like her new husband. Only there was something different about this man's face. There seemed to be a twinkle in his eyes and a mischievous grin danced about his full lips.
If the artists rendering of the gentlemen was a true one, this man had probably been quite the rogue, albeit a very happy and ******* one.
That's where Darian and the portrait differed. He possessed no happiness or *******ment. In their place was cold indifference.
"Darian!" came a happy, female cry from up above them. Kristy lifted her eyes to the top of the staircase that led into the hall and there she saw a golden haired young woman quickly descend the stairs, a wide smile lit her beautiful features.
She looked over to Darian and couldn't believe her eyes. She saw warm a smile on his face and his body relaxed its normal ridged stance.
"Sidra..." he murmured softly as the golden beauty threw herself into his arms and planted a kiss right on his lips.
Sidra leaned back and smoothed her dainty hand over Darian 's rough cheek and spoke lovingly to him, "Oh Darian, I didn't think I would ever so your handsome face again. When they told me you had come and gone before I arrived home, I was in tears!"
Darian clasped the hand that caressed his face and squeezed gently, "Did they not tell you that I would be gone but only for a day? King Richard himself could not stop me from seeing you, my Sidra. You should know that."
She looked at him doubtfully and retorted, "He kept you from me for two years!"
He folded her in his embrace once again and relented, "That is true, only it was also my wish to be there."
"Now tell me how have you been since Father and Aron's deaths. Were you here when the attack came? I thank God that you were not hurt also."
A sad expression crept into Sidra's light gray eyes and shook her head, "Nay, I was not here or I fear that I would not be here with you now. It has been difficult, but I am doing better every day that passes."
Kristy stood frozen where- she was as she witnessed this very touching scene between the woman and her husband. She didn't know whether to be outraged or not. Hadn't he told her that he wouldn't be faithful?
Sure. But she had never - in a million years - imagined that he had a mistress already set up in his castle, waiting for him. And how dare he flaunt her in front of his men and the servants!
Kristy folded her arms and cleared her throat as loudly as she could. If this woman was bold enough to throw herself at him while his new wife was standing right by him then she could darn, well let her know that she wasn't going to take it.
Sidra's head turned toward her at the sound of her cough and a shy smile arose on her lips. "Forgive me for my rudeness, my lady." the woman apologized much to Kristy's surprise. Then grasp her hand. "You must be Darian's new bride, Christiana. I am Sidra."
Kristy didn't do anything but stare at the woman for a few seconds with a dumbfounded expression. What kind of woman was this? Had she no shame? Her questioning gaze tore away from Sidra and sought out Darian's.
A sardonic eyebrow lifted as he started to understand just what was going through her mind and answered her confusion with a dry tone, "Christiana, Sidra is my sister."
Kristy's eyes widened and a pink tint began surfacing on her smooth cheeks. "Oh...Oh! I didn't know.... I mean...You have a sister?"
Sidra looked back at her brother with hands on hips and chided him, "Darian! What have you said to this poor girl that would make her even think that I could be anything other than your sister?"
He just shrugged and looked uninterested in her question. Sidra narrowed her eyes at him and then looked back to her sister-in-law. "I can well imagine that you have been exposed to my brothers 'charming' personality." She rolled her eyes at him then took Kristy's arm. "Just pay him no attention and don't let him scare you. His bark is much worse that that of his bite! Now let me show you up to your room and get you all settled in." They started up the stairs.
"Make sure that you put her in MY room, little sister. Christiana will share my bed, tonight and every night that I am here." he emphasized.
Sidra sent her brother a look and said, "I think we all well understand your point, Darian." Then to Kristy she laughed as she shook her head. "Men!" Then bounded on up the staircase.
After the ladies disappeared from sight Darian settled himself into a large arm chair and took a big gulp of ale from the fancy gold dipped mug. He turned his attention to the tall graying knight at his side. Will was one of the castle guards and had been present the night that Greystone was attacked.
"Will, have you had any news from the inquest you have made?"
The middle-aged guard looked thoughtful for a moment and replied carefully to his lord. "Lord Darian, the men have found something on the boundaries of your land that could prove to be the answer that we have been seeking."
Darian sat up quickly in his seat and looked expectantly at Will. "What have you found."
"This, my lord." Will took a folded black cloth from his tunic and carefully unfolded it to reveal within its folds a golden dagger. Darian took it carefully and ran his fingers along the blade and up onto the jewel encrusted hilt. When his finger and eyes reached the end they immediately stopped their search.
His eyes were like splinters of glass and his face, hardened as he quickly identified whose crest the dagger bore.
"Worthingham," came the chilling answer.
It now made sense. It made sense that even though his father and brothers were killed, along with a great deal of their guard that Greystone had not been captured, nor had anything been stolen. They were looking for something...someone. And Darian felt a dread in the pit of his belly as he realized just who Worthingham had been after.
His sister. Sidra.

Chapter 5

Sidra led Kristy into the large elegantly decorated room that was to be her new bedchamber. The furniture was large and bulky but the intricate carvings that were evident in every piece kept in from being gaudy.
"This was my father's chamber," Sidra told her with a little sadness lingering in her voice, "Darian has only recently moved into them, so I would imagine that you can change anything you would like to. in here."
Kristy smiled at her new sister and said, "I can't imagine what I would change, as it is a feel a little like Cinderella must have felt when she walked into that ballroom."
Sidra looked at her strangely, "Who's Cinderella?"
Kristy laugh, "No, I guess you wouldn't have heard of her, yet. Cinderella is a story that I read once.
"So, you were taught to read, also! Good. I have shall have someone to share my books with." she exclaimed sounding quite pleased at this new information. Then that strange light appeared once again in her eyes and she ask her a question, "Kristy, why do you have such a strange accent? I don't believe I have heard it before."
Oh, boy. Here we go, again! "Sidra, If I told you I'm not sure that you would believe me. No one else has, so far."
Sidra, who was always one for a mystery, looked at her anxiously with a gleam in her gray eyes, "Oh, tell me. I will believe you."
Kristy let out a sigh, walked over to the fur covered bed and plopped down wearily on it's softness as she thought out carefully just how she was going to explain her story. "Sidra, have you ever made a wish for something -maybe because you were feeling sad, and you wished you could be someone else?" she asked and saw Sidra nod her head sadly. It hadn't been too long ago.
"Well, that's just what I did, last night. And…my wish was granted," she said slowly and carefully. Hoping to make her understand.
She did. "Are you trying to tell me that you are someone other than Christiana of Cranbrook? But that's impossible!" She looked at her with unbelief.
Kristy looked at her intently, feeling a desperate need to make her believe. "I know it's sounds that way - I don't know if I could believe it if it were the other way around. But, Sidra, if I am not telling the truth may God strike me down !" She saw Sidra hesitantly lift her eyes, heavenward, thinking God would take her up on it. "I am from the future, the year 1999. I come from a country that no one in this century has discovered yet. I made a
wish that .1 could be someone else...someone's wife. Christiana made a wish that she could be someone else also, because she didn't want to marry your brother. Because we look alike, we were both granted our wishes. Now, I am here and she has taken my place."
Sidra wore a confused expression, her brows were knitted together as she pondered all that she had just been told. Was Darian's wife mad? Looking at her she didn't think so. Could she be making this up to get away from Darian? She didn't know. But she couldn't help feeling that this girl who was just two years younger than herself was telling her the absolute truth. But that truth was preposterous!
"Christiana...or what is your real name?"
"Kristy Kendrick."
"Er...Kristy..I truly want to believe you but I find it so hard to do...." her voice trailed off to a whisper.
Kristy got up from the bed, wearing a tired smile and went over to Sidra and took her hand. "Maybe you can believe me better, once you have gotten to know me. I can promise you I am not crazy or mad so please don't be afraid of me now that I have told you this." As she said this she could feel Sidra relaxing. "I have married your brother and though we are strangers I promise you that I will be a good wife to him. Maybe this is my destiny. Maybe I had to go back in time to find my real purpose in life. Whatever the reason, I am here. And I would like very much to be your friend." She chuckled to herself as she looked at her vast surroundings and replied with a mock gravity, "I think that I am going to need your help. How do you people clean this place, anyway!"
Sidra laughed and went over to hug her new friend. "Of course we shall be friends and as far as how the castle gets cleaned, I would not know. But together maybe we can figure it out!" She linked her arm though Kristy's and walked over to the trunks that had been brought up. "And mayhap you and I shall find some time for you to tell me about this strange place that you come from, eh?"
Kristy looked down at the petite lady and smile gratefully at her while giving her arm a squeeze. "I would very much like that." Then they called for Nan and began the process of moving her into her new home.
Darian wearily mounted the stairs on route to his chamber, his new found evidence laying heavily on his mind. He would have to deal with this matter as soon as possible, but how? He had been ordered to leave for London and he knew he there was no way around it. King Richard had heard that Prince John, his brother, had been stirring up trouble and Darian was to meet with the traitorous prince to make sure that all was well or, more to the point, make sure that he knew that he was being watched...closely.
His face grew grim when the King's huge frame filled his thoughts. He loved the king like a brother and would die to protect his liege lord, but he did not agree with Richard's constant absence from his throne. Not when his greedy brother was wielding every trick to gain the highest title. John would only bring England to ruin, that Darian was sure.
He sighed and ran a callused hand through his dark locks. Worthingham would have to wait. But with his sister here at the castle, she was surely in danger if Worthingham found out she was here. As much as he hated it, Tilden would have to stay behind to watch out for Sidra. He needed his friend on this journey into London but his trusted knight would serve a better purpose here. Tilden would see no harm came to her, that he was assured of.
There were other things, however, that he was not so assured of. He thought gravely as he reached his chamber door. And his wife was definitely high on that list.
He had been baffled by the jealousy flashing in her blue eyes, this evening when she had seen Sidra. And today on the journey she had sworn to him that she'd be a good wife to him. Why? All he had demanded was that she be faithful to him, yet she seemed insulted that he would not swear the same.
He never fully understood women, and this woman was most certainly a mystery to him. Christiana, with her strange accent and her defiant ways. She was unlike anyone he had ever met. And, by God, she showed no fear of him even when he had threatened her. Nay! Instead she had turned his warning around and teased him with it!
He shook his head and put his hand to the gold dipped handle on the chamber door. He hesitated. He, Darian of Greystone, the feared knight of the king, the one who had brought men to their knees with only a cold piercing look from his hard gray eyes, the one who hadn't thought twice about drive his blade through the heart of his enemy while staring unremorsefully in their eyes as they cried out for mercy. He, Darian the Barbarian, as his countess so aptly put it, was actually feeling uncertain about what waited him on the other side of the great door.
With an impatient breath he push open the door, letting it swing and give a mighty smack against the wall.
His gray stare met with his wife's wide startled ones as she sat in a chair with her maid behind her, in the middle of the room. Apparently she had just donned the silky, very revealing nightgown and Nan was plaiting her long dark hair.
Kristy quickly regained her composure and her blue eyes turned fiery. "Good Grief, Darian. Do you always enter rooms like that? Or do you just enjoy scaring the wits out of people?"
Darian stood still in the doorway and ran a heated gaze over the transparent nightshift. He look pointedly at Nan and rasped out, "Leave us."
Nan looked nervously down to the half-way finished braid and held it up helplessly while mumbling, "But, my lord, her hair....."

"''Tis not important. I ask you now, madam, to leave - NOW!" He grasped the door impatiently and held it while the frightened ladies maid quickly exited.
As he shut the door, Kristy stood up and planted her fist on her slim hips and huffed. "Was that necessary? Really, Darian, you're not very nice at times. You need to work on that!" she scolded him.
He gave her a searing look while he begin to remove his tunic and replied in a low tone. "The only thing that I want to work on this night, my lady, is you."
She felt herself pale at words and found she had no quick comeback. "Uh…oh!"
"Ah, you understand what I am asking for?" he asked huskily as he came and stood closely before her and began fingering the ribbon ties at her throat. "I want you and I will have you. I need not speak pretty words for that to happen. Nor do you need my words to make you want me in return, my lady. Do you..." he trailed off to a whisper as he ran his hand between the loosened laces and pressed them against her chest. He could feel the quickened beat of her heart and the fast rise and fall of her breath.
Kristy knew that she was trembling. Knew that HE knew. But she could not stop it. She couldn't move. Her mind willed it, but her body refuse to comply. It wanted his touch, it crave his warmness. Not even Cory had made her feel such abandonment.
She composed herself enough to squeak out, "Can we talk about this?" Her face wore a pleading, hopeful expression.
"Nay." The answer was short and to the point. No arguing that tone.
"Oookay," she drug out. Was it getting hot in here? His lips had moved to her lips.
She groan as she open her mouth under his and responded his to his movement, their tongues wielding together fervently. She had been kissed many times in her lifetime by a dozen of so guys but never, never like this.
She gave an impatient cry as he tore his lips from hers and gripped the sides of her face with his strong hands and forced her to look at him. His eyes narrowed and his voice was accusing. "Why is it that I do not doubt that you have done this before."
She at first didn't understand his sudden anger and she answered him, "Yes. I have kissed before..." but stopped when she saw his face harden and close. "Darian, I've kissed but I've never been with a man, not intimately," she replied honestly, hoping that he would believe her.
But Darian believed in no one. He lifted her up, non-too-gently, and dumped her on the furs that covered the massive bed. "We shall see if you tell the truth. We shall see, Christiana, whether I, indeed, married a lady or in truth a whore!" His voice was seething with malice. His countenance was even more cold, more grim, than it had been before.
She immediately scrambled out of his reach and out of the bed. Fire was blazing from her eyes as she rounded the bed and glared at him. "You just try to hurt me, buddy and I promise, you'll regret it!" she threatened in a low growl. She knew what she was doing…sort of. Now was the time to see if those judo lessons had been worth her money.
He came at her picture perfect. A class example if there ever was one. One moment he was standing up, the next, he lay flat on his back.
He could do nothing but blink at her in disbelief.
She swallowed and pretended that she was perfectly calm and cool. "I warned you."
For one terrifying moment she honestly thought he was going to get up and hit her. But the next moment, he started to laugh.
"By all that is holy, I have married crazy woman! I try to seduce her and she tries to kill me." He said almost to himself, in between chuckles.
She noticed he was moving stiffly as he got up from the floor and she felt guilty. "Did I hurt you?" she asked hesitantly.
He merely quirked an eyebrow at her. "You insult me, lady. The only reason that I ended up on my backside is that I underestimated you. Believe me that it will not happen again!" he said with assurance mixed with loads of arrogance.
She snickered. "Wanna make a bet?"
"Aye!" he said with a knowing smile. "What will I get if I win?"
She thought about that and then thought about the odds. "You get me."
He smirked. "I get you anyway."
"Willing and cooperative."
He thought about that and smiled. "And if by some miracle that you win…" he prompted.
"Then we wait." He frowned at that, but she went on. "We get to know one another first. You know, spend time with one another." He still frowned. The man was dense. "For at least a few days," she finished with a sigh.
He shrugged. "It matters not. I will win."
She took a deep breath. "So…come on and we will see!"
Kristy wasn't quite sure if she could do it, again. The man was huge, and he'd be ready this time. But she stayed focused and…
BAM! She did it!
Darian just shook his head in disbelief. "I cannot believe that you did it to me again."
Kristy breathed a sigh of relief. "I win."
He grimaced. "Aye, I suppose that you do," he grumbled as he pulled himself upright and off the floor. He let his eyes make a slow sweep down her body. His voice and eyes were full of regret when he next spoke. "Are you sure that this is what you want?"
With those smoldering eyes looking at her that way, she wasn't so sure! But no. She had to stick to her guns. It was better this way.
Although…there was this teeny tiny little voice…way deep down…that reminded her that they WERE married.
It's better this way, she scolded herself.
"Yes, it's what I want," she told him.
He studied her a moment more. "What I accused you of…earlier. Am I wrong?" he asked her with all seriousness. She knew that her answer was very important.
"Yes, you are wrong, Darian. I've never been with a man before. It was just you that made me react so," she assured him.
Suddenly his countenance grew dark again and he swung his eyes to the bed. "I like this arrangement, not," he stated grimly.
She folded her arms and smirked at him. "You'll get over it."
He glared at her. "Words are put together strangely, yet I kin their meaning quite clear. You speak much boldness for someone who is unmatched in every way."
She laughed (not a smart thing to do) and said, "It wasn't me who was thrown on the floor."
The next thing she knew she was flat on her back, lying on the bed, and the Incredible Hulk was atop of her. "Now, just who is on their backs, hmmm?"
"You win," she squeaked out. "Now get off."
"Nay!"
She blinked at his answer. Then blinked again when she felt his body respond to her. His eyes were no longer angry, but smoldering with desire. He was a hair's breath away from her lips. "This bargain was made with haste. Tell me I do not have to honor it."
Tell him, you nitwit! one part of her screamed. Heat enveloped her body and a yearning swept through her soul like never before. But she was not ready for this. She'd only claimed to be in love with another man just last night. Her body wanted him, her head told her to go for it, but her heart would not let it be so.
Regretfully, she shook her head. "I must insist that you honor the bargain, Darian. It is better this way."
He growled as he lifted his body from hers and stomped about the room gathering his clothing. "Be it that I was a more dishonorable man! Then what would you do, Christiana? Other men would have taken you and been done with it."
It was the testosterone that was talking, she tried to remind herself, as her irritation grew. But he did have a point. She was in a different time. A time that held none of the social morals of her society. She was his wife. He had every right to take her.
Thank God, she had taken those Judo classes!
"I do appreciate..." she started to say but was interrupted.
"Nay! I do not want your appreciation. It is not appreciation that will keep you warm on the nights that I will be away. We have only this night, yet you waste it with a useless bargain." He snorted and stared at her with a disgusted look. "How is it that you plan to keep me faithful, wife, when you give me nothing to keep my attentions at home."
With that last sentence, he stomped out of the room and slammed the door.
"Jubal" Kristy called out to the empty room. She wanted to leave. She hated it here in this dark, unreal world where nothing nor anyone was familiar. She hated the man who called himself her husband. She didn't want to share his life. And she most definitely did not want to share his bed!
But as she had a hard time falling asleep that night, because a constant voice kept ringing in her head saying, "LIAR!"

Chapter 6

Kristy awoke with the sounds of Nan busying about her chamber. The slowly sat up stretching arms and trying to get acquainted with her surroundings. Good grief! She was waking up in a different bed every morning! At least, this one was the one she went to bed in. She quickly looked over to the empty space beside her and wondered if Darian had joined her or had he slept elsewhere?
"Good morning, milady! I have your tea ready for you all nice and hot," Nan cheerfully greeted, pushing the cup of steamy liquid into Kristy's hands.
Kristy's nose scrunched up as she smelled the tea and almost gave it back to her. But on a second thought she remembered how it had helped calm her nerves the day before and downed it in a few scorching gulps.
"Uh, Nan… Do you know where the Earl is, this morning?" she asked trying to sound casual.
Nan's eyes grew round and bit down on her lower lip. "My lady… I… the Earl Greystone left for London at first light. I thought you knew!"
Kristy rolled her eyes in frustration. He wasn't kidding when he said he was leaving. What a jerk to just leave her in this strange place! With a frustrated sigh, she raked her fingers through her hair and threw back the furs. "Yes, I knew he would be leaving this morning. I just thought that as his wife, he'd have enough courtesy to wake me and let me know he was leaving, " The grumbled to the servant.
Nan gave her mistress a look of sympathy and tried to sooth her, "Now, now, milady. ''Tis only a short time that ye have been wed. I would expect he will become more attentive in the future."
Kristy snorted unladylike and gave Nan a skeptic look. "I wouldn't put all my eggs in that basket! " she retorted sarcastically.
Nan pursed her lips. "I do not understand why, milady, you insist on using that horrid accent. 'Tis not the accent of a lady of your station."
Nan was right. She wasn't Kristy Kendrick anymore (at least not for a while), she was Christiana Maxwell and things might go a little smoother if she started acting like it. She dearly hoped she could pull it off convincingly.
Turning to Nan and smiling she relented as medieval English as possible, "Your right, Nan, sometimes I do get carried away with my theatrics."
"I dare say that I am used to it, milady! Now let's get you into your bath that I have prepared. The Lady Sidra has requested that you join her in the Great Hall this morn so that you may break your fast together," Nan said and led her to the huge tub filled with steaming, rose scented water.
Kristy went down into the great hall and was surprised to see Tilden sitting with Sidra. He got up and gallantly reached to kiss her hand and commented, "Good morning, my lady. I trust you slept well." His voice was pleasant and he gave her the most beautiful smile she'd had ever seen.
"Good morning, Tilden, Sidra. Yes, I did sleep well, thank you." she returned with a smile and sat down beside her sister-in-law.
"1 thought that I would show you around the grounds this morning. Tilden has been so kind as to act as our escort." Her last sentence was spoken sweetly, too sweetly. Kristy was sure that the words were meant to be sarcastic.
Tilden rose a golden eyebrow and gave her a teasing grin "'Tis not so bad to be in my company, Lady Sidra. I can be quite charming when I deem to be."
Sidra gave him a haughty look and snapped. "I have do doubt, but I do not understand the need for an escort. There is naught that could happen to us."
Tilden's handsome face lost it's smile and he said grimly, "Naught that could happen, my lady? 'Tis a short memory you seem to possess."
She let out an exasperated breath. "Indeed, I have not forgotten. But that has passed. Darian is too cautious."
"Darian is concerned for your ungrateful hide!" he growled.
"Then I am surprised that he didn't insist that you lock me in the castle!"
He looked at her humorlessly. "He did. You should be thanking me instead of fighting me, my lady. If I had not convinced him otherwise, you would indeed be a prisoner inside these walls."
She sniffed at him and his smile returned. "No? Ah! You wound my delicate heart, my Lady Sidra," he said mournfully while dramatically placing a hand over his heart.
"I doubt that any woman could do that, Sir Tilden," she threw at him acidly. They held each other's stare for a moment and Kristy was reminded of a showdown between two desperados she had seen in an old western once. The air practically sizzled between them.
"Is this a private war or can anyone join?" she asked, breaking their stare.
Sidra blushed a bit and quickly apologized, "I'm...I'm sorry Kristy. I...you do want me to call you Kristy do you not?"
"Oh, yes. Please do."
"I'm sure that you are completely confused to what we are talking about. You might not have realized that when you married in to this family, you walked right into the middle of our family problems," she said, regretfully and continued.
"When I was born, my father signed a betrothal agreement, binding me to Lord Worthingham's son, Fredrick. Their land borders ours and our families were once close. However, when I reached the age of eighteen, the age I was to marry, my father abruptly called the wedding off, at Darian and Aron's insistence. Fredrick, who was by now Lord of Worthingham, was outraged at the breech of promise. He vowed that he would avenge himself because we had dishonored him."
She stopped and fingered the linen napkin she held in her hands, nervously. "Darian has reason to believe that it was Worthington who murdered my father and brother. He… he thinks that Fredrick will come after me next." She held up her chin and a determined look hardened her features, much like that of Darian's, Kristy thought.
"I do not believe he will come. Surely such an action would be highly foolish for him to do. I am safe and I cannot understand why Darian or you, Tilden refusal to accept it!"
"It is your reasoning that is foolish, Sidra. Worthingham want's revenge and I would not want to find out how he plans to get his revenge once he gets his hands on you!" Tilden exclaimed in a forceful tone. He was angry, it was apparent.
Immediately, Sidra turned from his gaze and put her attention to Kristy. "Well, enough of that unpleasantness! Let me tell you of where I've just come from. My aunt's manor is positively lovely." And Sidra chattered on about her trip and her family. Kristy was disappointed that she didn't get to ask what Darian and his brother had found out, but it would have to wait. She could tell that the subject affected Sidra more than she let on, so she went along with the lady.
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Rude awakenings happen to everyone, ever once in a great while. It's to be expected. Two in one day, however, could prove to be real nuisance.
And so it was to Kristy when she learned two important things. Number one: Life in the twelfth century was no picnic. Number two; being a countess in this century did not mean you lay around the castle all day eating bon bons, served from a silver platter.
Apparently Christiana had been taught her whole life of the runnings of a castle and it's estate. She would have been prepared when told the castle looms were not functioning properly, or when asked about the menu for the week and possibly even when a young thief was caught among the serfs and was brought before her.
Thank God, Sidra had been there. It wouldn't have looked too good to appear totally ignorant of the things they were asking of her. After all she was a countess... and should know countess things.
Sidra was now fully convinced that only a foreigner from another time and place would he this unlearned of such duties that were a mere way of life to everyone else,
Then there, of course, was the twelfth century lifestyle. A life that included no electricity, no running water, and for Heaven's sake, no disposable razors! She seriously considered talking the razor that Warrick used to shave Darian's face and risking it on her legs. And panties. The problem about that simple feminine garment was that there were none. They didn't wear them. Hadn't been invented. But itchy stockings had, unfortunately.
And Kristy really missed her toothbrush and her Close-up toothpaste. Not to mention her mouthwash, and the ever essential make-up! She remembered complaining to her sister about having to wear make-up once. Her sister had told her that if there was no such thing as make-up, no one would think you looked ghastly without it. That theory was now being put to the test. As for the toothbrush, she made do using a soft linen towel, water, and a mint leaf for good breath. It wasn't the same, but would have to do.
It all would have to do, until Jubal came and told her she could leave. Then she would resume her career. That is if this Christiana girl hadn't already ruined it by then, and live among all the twentieth century comfort that she had once taken for granted and live happily ever after. It wouldn't be a difficult decision to make. That was what she started the day with thinking, that is.
By the end of the day, and as the next day turned into the next, she wasn't so sure, anymore.
I was still hard and she didn't know how many times she had entered a room and tried to flip on the light switch, but this place was beginning to grow on her. She liked it, even.
Greystone was certainly not without it's charms. And it was hard to stay unattached to a place where the people looked at you as if you were their queen. And in a way she was. She found that she like going into the village and visiting with them, taking interest of the work that they did for the estate. At first they had been surprised at her interest and even a little standoffish. But soon they warmed to her, getting used to her familiarity with them, pleased when she could remember their names.
She had been dutifully informed, by her sister-in-law, that noble persons did not consort with those that were her lessor. That she should always show that she was their countess, carry herself with dignity. And she did, but not to the point of snobbery. She found the servants as well as the villagers did much better work when they were complimented on the skill or their task or spoken a kind word to. It had been the same method her father had used on their farm in Indiana. And as far back as she could remember he never had any trouble with those he employed.
The children, Kristy soon discovered were uneducated, unruly at times and made to work like adults. Whatever trade their parents had, they worked right along with them, their help often times essential to their welfare. Though their was nothing she could do to change this, there was something she could do to lighten it the load
In the mornings, she started gathering the children around her and told them fairytales, sang them songs or showed them how to count. After the first day, not one child missed the rest of the week. Even some of the adults would pause a few minutes to listen to her weave an enchanting story of love, dreams and wishes. They'd often smile to themselves, remembering their own childhood dreams and hopes.
The meals at the castle were surpassingly good. Lamb, venison and sometimes fish were the main courses. They also served a strange bird meat, that, frankly, Kristy was just to afraid to ask it origins!
Their cook was one of the best in England. The king himself had once tried to hire her away. Her combinations of herbs and made food culinary works of art that melted in your mouth.
Th afternoons were spent with Sidra and sometimes Tilden who watched over her sister-in-law like a hawk. Kristy had thought he was more protective of her than was called for, and wondered about his feelings for her. You surely couldn't tell there was an attraction between them on any other score, they quarreled like children over the littlest things.
At night she' and Sidra would sit by the fire in her chamber and she'd tell her of life in the twentieth century. By now Sidra believed her story but sometimes found it difficult to believe some of the things Kristy told her about such things as the airplane and the light bulb.
A big help on learning of the twelfth century, however, had been Christiana's journals. In them she found in precise detail, everything from weaving, to candle making, to the mixing of herbs for medicinal purposes. It seemed a little overwhelming, when she thought of all that she had to learn, but then again she thought just how difficult it was going to be for Christiana to adjust to the American life.
Most of Christiana's passages in her journals were witty and delightful to read. It wasn't until she read of her misgivings about her upcoming marriage that Kristy felt a pang of nervousness.
So far her life her at Greystone has been satisfyingly *******. But would it be that way once Darian return? Would he forever be the hard unfeeling man that kept his heart carefully bound and hidden? Or would he learn to open up and enjoy life again? Would he start to…love her?
Part of her didn't want him to come back, but a greater, deeper part of her missed him. He was due back any day now and she found herself glancing ever so often, towards Greystone's gates, looking for the exquisite gray stallion and the handsome knight that it would carry.
Kristy walked out into the cold crisp air and bound her cloak tighter around her. The young knight, Baldwin was at her side, acting as her escort this morning. Sidra has decided to sleep in and Tilden had business to tend to, so she went without them,
It was midmorning and Kristy perched herself on an old stump and the children gathered around her. There was anxious anticipation of the magic she would shower around them as she told them a fairy tale.
As she began her tale, she was so absorbed in her story that she didn't notice the tall dark man standing back behind the crowd.
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When Darian arrived at the castle, he had been surprised to find out that his wife was in the village. Although, he had been met at the castle gate by a guard who spoke, high praises of his new bride and it hadn't stopped there. It seemed everyone had a glowing report or opinion of Christiana, to whom they referred as 'Lady Kristy'. He had been real surprised after Tilden had told of her whereabouts, and that he had the actual nerve to warn him to be understanding with her when he saw what she was about.
Just what was she about? he wanted to know. And just what did Tilden think that he would do to his own wife? My God, did everyone think him a monster?
As he stood behind the throng of peasants, watching his countess sit among those lesser than she, telling them a story of some sort, he still wondered, what the devil WAS she doing?
He shook his head in amazement as he saw the children fall under her spell, not one peep sounding from them. These were the dirty little noisy urchins that were normally screaming and running like wild little things all over Greystone?
Darian turned his eyes back to the one that everyone now called Lady Kristy. God help him if those delicate, refined features didn't fill his dreams at night and plague his mind in the daylight. Her rich dark hair was plaited in a single braid and hung over her shoulder. Wisp of curls had come a loose and framed her face. Her tunic was simple and unadorned in a pale shade blue, a darker blue cloak rested upon her shoulders. The simplicity of her garments only brought out her natural beauty and the blue colors making her eyes shine with exuberance.
He had been a fool to think that he could leave for a week and not give her a thought. He would have accomplished that if he had not held her in his arms. But now the memory of her sweet smell, the taste of her lips, were forever etched like engraved stone in his mind. The once vivid memory of Isabelle, his late wife, had even began to blur, not coming up very often, unclear when it did.
He'd turned down the wench that Prince John gave given him for the night. It wasn't another woman he wanted, needed, it was Christiana...only Christiana. He'd sent the wench away without so much as a look at what she offered. And that made him feel uneasy. He shouldn't let her make him feel this way. Christiana would no doubt crow like a rooster if she knew that he was staying faithful to her.
But it wasn't because he was failing in love with her, nay! He realized it for what it was. He just had to get her out of his system. She was like a mystery to him, a wild, untamed challenge. He would conquer her and tame her to be a quite docile wife. One who know her place and would stay out of his. And after awhile he would grow bored with her. Aye, that would be the way of it.
He saw her gesture with her hands as she spoke. Her voice was like silken thread that seemed to penetrate him to his very soul as she told the story of a beautiful maiden who was kept by a great beauty. How the girl called Beauty had fallen in love with the beast despite his mean countenance and gruffness. Despite the fact that he was frightening to look upon. And how that love had been strong enough to break the spell that bound him and transformed him into a handsome prince....
Love. The kind of love that she spoke of did not exist in real life. Did she think it did? Was this story really about them, she being the one who would break through his hard heart and change him into a new man? If so, then she was a fool and would do well to not even try it.
His bitter thoughts dissipated, however, the moment she lifted her head and met his eyes. For a moment she did nothing but stare, as if she were seeing an ghost. But slowly a smile spread across her face and she stood up and walked over to him.
When the villagers noticed their lord had returned and stood within there midst they quickly went back to their work, acting as if they'd never stopped, the children stood back and stared at him a little frightened. All of which did not go unnoticed by Darian nor Kristy.
"You're back," came her obvious reply as she came, with hands at her sides, looking up at him. She missed him, she realized at that moment. Impossible to comprehend, but she missed this stranger who was her husband.
He looked back at her with an unfathomable gaze and answered,
"Yes."
There was an electrifying silence that hung between them as they stared at one another.
She spoke first, "I'm glad you arrived safely."
"Why?"
"Why? Are you serious?"
He looked at her wide eyes and almost could believe she was sincere. "You could be a very rich women if something were to happen to me."
"You don't get it do you, Darian. 0r is it you just don't want to?" She shook her head at him, with a dry laugh. "I've been rich. Money doesn't make happiness, Darian, and it doesn't take the place of people." She turned away from him and started walking away from him.
For an instant he let her go. Then with a few long strides he was at her side and had a hand on her elbow.
"Tilden has told me you go down to the village everyday. What do you do down there besides tell them stories?" he asked evenly, leaving Kristy to wonder whether he was asking sincerely or not.
She shrugged her shoulders gracefully and answered, "I just visit with them, take an interest in what they are doing. I thought since they do work for us I should at least let them know that I am aware of it and that I am here to help if I can." She was surprised at his next words.
"You have done well." His words were few but she could hear that he was pleased.
She stopped and stared at him, mouth a'gape in mock astonishment. "What? Did you just give me a compliment?"
He looked at her coolly and shrugged, "It was a mere observation."
She began to walk again and he continued beside her. "Of course it was. We wouldn't want it to get out that you were being nice, would we?" she teased and heard him snort in reply.
She kept on smiling despite his coolness. She could feel ho wanted to laugh. There had been just a split second when that ridged mouth has twitch slightly, but she had seen it.
She allowed her gaze to discretely glide over his body as they walked. He was dressed in a dark gray tunic. The laces untied and slightly open at the neck. Underneath he wore a lighter gray under tunic, and his golden mantle flowed from his shoulder, it's edges trim with ermine. Her eyes trailed down and took in his bulging legs covered with the tight hose in the same dark gray as the tunic, his feet and calves clad with black leather boots. The beautiful golden sword swung from his waist, ready for action if the occasion arose.
It was true that if she had seen a man dress as he was, walking down Park Avenue in New York, she would definitely laugh at the sight. But here, in his mode of dress, in this savage century, he fit. And looked darn good, too! She tried to image him in a Dior suit, sipping champagne while mingling at a society party. At that she did laughed! It was way too tame a setting for him!
He glanced at her when he heard the sound of her laugh. "What is it that you have suddenly found so amusing. Christiana?"
"I was trying to picture you in a suit and tie."
He looked at her as if she'd gone mad and she just laughed some more. "You had to he there, I guess!" She spotted Sidra waving at her from the castle door and ran on ahead of Darian to greet her.
Darian watched as she ran to his sister, her dress and cloak billowing out from behind her. Sunshine. The woman was like a ray of sunshine. Laughing at silly things, teasing him, trying to make him smile, playing with children...the list went on and on. He even liked her odd little accent. And it all made him extremely uncomfortable. He didn't want to think of her at all! But he did. God help him, he did.
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The day progressed and except for meals spent in the hall, they did not see one another. Darian was please to see that Christiana and his sister had become friends. They seemed to spend much of their time together while seeing over the household duties.
He sat looking into the depths of the ale he held in his hands, Tilden, Vachel and three of his most trusted guards sat around him. The problem of Worthingham weighed heavily on his thoughts, as it had the entire week he had been away. He was immediately relieved to find that Sidra was still safe, that Worthingham had not yet made his move. But he would. And this time Darian would bloody well, be ready.
Tilden spoke, "There is no way to be sure when Worthingham will attack - or if indeed he will attack. Mayhaps he will not risk it. Mayhaps his revenge has been met." He knew that he was hoping against the wind, but they had to consider all angles.
"He will attack," Darian declared with grave certainty. "I've always know the man to be a little mad, irrational at times.... He will not stop until he gets what was promised to him. He will come for Sidra!" He banged his hand on the table, driving home his point, leaving no opening to refute it.
"Then we must plan. He was too clever the last time. The guards never saw him coming. How will we be able to get out the warning soon enough? We cannot keep an army in a constant state of waiting, in the chance that he will attack. He may choose to wait months, maybe even years, as he did before." Vachel reasoned. The usually quiet spoken knight always came alive at the hint of battle. He had a brilliant mind for strategy, and his knowledge and instinct had saved Darian's hide as - well as his men, more than once. Darian trusted him without with his life. If there was a way, Vachel would think of it.
"You have, a plan." Darian knew the look that was in his knight's eyes. He also knew from that look that it involved danger.
Vachel hesitated. "Yes, but I fear that this is one plan you may not heed to… It is dangerous and it is odds are high that something could go awry.
"Stop giving me excuses and tell me the bloody plan!" Darian growled impatiently at the guard.
His eyes never wavered from his lord's eyes and his voice spoke in even tones. "It would involve Sidra acting as our bait…"
"NO!" Darian thundered, coming to his feet. "Have you gone mad! You cannot think that I would risk her life!"
Vachel stood up and confronted him and reasoned, "Her life is already at risk, my lord. There is no other way..."
"There must be another!"
"Aye, there is the plan where we wait. Wait like sitting ducks, not knowing when he will strike. Hoping, praying that we will be ready when he does." He stopped and looked pointedly at Sidra, where she sat in the corner, laughing at something her sister -in- law had told her. "The choice is, of course, yours, my lord." Then he sat down, resigned.
Darian continued to look over to his sister. She looked up, saw him staring at her and smiled at him before turning away. He swore under his breath. What would he do? What was the right choice to make? But, in his heart, he knew.
Sitting back down he looked at Vachel and ordered grimly, "Tell me."

Chapter 7

Vachel's plan was unfolded to him. It was of his usual brilliant style - calculating, thorough, detailed. But this time his usual foolproof plan contained a point of concern for Darian…they couldn't be sure of Sidra. How would she react under pressure?
Darian knew that his sister was a strong person, but she was still a woman, with a woman's emotions. Could he count on her to maintain her composure and control?
They had no other choice. That much was clear.
Their plan was a simple one. But dangerous. They would find among their serfs, someone who had family and friends at Worthingham. 'Twould not be difficult since their lands bordered. They would then have the serf spread it about that Lady Sidra would be traveling to London. There was only one road leading there from Greystone, and Worthingham would know it. Soldiers would be following them discreetly and acting as lookouts. But Vachel felt certain that Lord Worthingham would not attack until they made camp between Sherwood Forrest and Bosworth Field.
There, they would wait for him. There, Darian vowed to himself that he would skewer Fredrick Worthingham though with the blade of his sword and enjoy every last cry he made for mercy. There, his father and brother would be avenged.
It was well past the midnight hour when their meeting convened. Christiana had long since retired to their chamber and he knew he would find her asleep. Silently, he let himself into the room and a chill suddenly caught him. He looked over the bed and saw his wife tucked in a shivering ball, the furs around her ankles.
The fire. He saw that there were a few live coals still glowing amidst the ashes, it didn't take long to coax them back to vibrant licking flames, slowly burning the fresh logs he had just added to the hearth.
He padded over to his wife's side of the bed and gently pulled thick furs over her chilled thinly wrapped body. When his fingers grazed her arm, she seemed to relax and turning towards him, she wiggled a little, snuggling deeper into the furs.
Looking down at her features, lightened softly by the firelight, Darian felt an involuntary sigh escape him. His hands at his sides clenched tightly, then unclenched, as if he fought them to not do what they wanted so much to do.
He wanted to touch her. Why was it so overwhelming? Why did his resolve vanish when in her presence? Why in heavens name was he bothering with this unreasonable bargain that she set between them? He must surely be a mad man!
He made a growling noise from under his breath, forcibly turning himself away from her sleeping form. There was, within him, a fight raging. A fight between a heart that he thought was dead and his ever logical brain.
His heart said "Trust her." But his brain warned him not to. And what Darian knew must be the devil whispered in his ear, Trust her not, but there is no reason for you to stay away from her. Her body is yours, you need not deprive yourself of it. She was his, his property. A mere object to use when he pleased and the bearer of his children. By God, he would allow her to be nothing more.
He stripped down to nothing and slid between the covers. As it she sense his presence. She turned her now warmed body toward him and draped a bare arm across his torso and a leg across his leg. She snuggled against him as she had done with the furs just moments ago and he held himself ridged against her softness. But only for a heartbeat. His arms came around her, as if they were meant to, and held her to him.
She meant nothing to him. Nothing…were his last thoughts as he drifted off into a satisfyingly pleasant slumber. In his sleep he didn't know that his hands gently caressed her back or that his lips lightly grazed her forehead or that the hardness was no longer etched on his features, but in it's place there was *******ment and even a little smile.
But she meant nothing to him. Nothing at all.
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Kristy stirred as the morning light pricked gently at her eyelids, then burrowed deeper into her pillow wishing the morning away. But then she felt another sensation, only this time it wasn't the sunshine.
And she wasn't alone.
It was definitely male, and he was holding her from the back in a spoon position. Upon further investigation, she saw that a huge hairy arm was wrapped across her middle. Think! She urged herself. But how was a gal supposed to think with all this body heat?
She should try to get out of the bed. Yes. That was definitely the first thing she should so. So…she wiggled a little trying to inch her way towards the edge of the bed, but the arm that began to tighten and she found herself closer to him than before!
Okay, she thought, Plan B. Did she really want a Plan B? a little voice seem to chirp in her ear. Well, no…YES. She HAD to get out of this bed before…well…before IT happened! It was too soon!
It called for a plan of action. She would simply remove his arm and get out of the bed. It would wake him up, but so what. They had a bargain. He would honor it…she hoped.
So, she picked the arm up and it clamped right back down. She tried it again. Same thing. She tried a third time, and she couldn't even move it.
She sighed. "You're awake, aren't you."
"Yes."
Great! "Uh…Can you move your arm? I need to get up."
"No."
A man of flowery words, he was not.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she said, trying a different tactic.
"What is a bath room?" he asked, lazily as he began to kiss her shoulder.
"Well, it's a room that you bath in and…you know…go to," she answered feebly. The lips were getting to her.
"Hmmm," he grunted and took her ear between his teeth.
She took a deep breath and tried to breathe normally. "Well…um…as I was saying…I need to get up to…you know…go!"
"Hmmm." His hand began to creep up in dangerous territories!
Panic made her push against his arm again. This time, she caught him off guard and was able to slide off the bed. Quickly she readjusted her gown.
He sighed and rolled on his back. "Christiana, you cannot be so cruel! You are my wife!"
"I am a stranger to you as you are to me! And we had an agreement, you scoundrel! How dare you slip into my bed and…" She stopped for a moment, because her eyes drifted over his torso and beyond to where the bed covers started and realized the full extent of his plans. "You're naked! You were deliberately trying to seduce me!"
He sat up and ran a hand through his dark tresses. "I do not have to seduce my own wife! If I want you, I'll take you!" he raged through gritted teeth.
She opened her mouth to retort, but then closed it. With a smile she asked, "Then why didn't you?"
Darian frowned. "I was trying."
She looked over the bed. "From the looks of it, you slept here all night. What stopped you from just waking me up and having your wicked way, hmmm?"
Darian did not like where this conversation was headed. So he said nothing. He just glowered.
She came around the bed to his side with his arms folded smugly. "I think that you remembered our agreement, and you were too honorable to break it."
"I have always surmised that women think too much."
But he didn't look so irritated anymore. He'd relaxed against the pillows.
"So," she began, "what can we do, today?"
He lifted an eyebrow. "We are doing nothing. I have lands and people to see to. I shall be busy with those most of the morning, then in the evening, I will train with my guard."
"Okay. I'll go with you. It will help me get to know you better," she said happily.
"Nay. You will only be in the way."
"No, I won't she said, as she went to her trunk and began sifting through it, while humming a tune.
A tune that was grating on his nerves. "I will forbid it!"
She didn't even turn around. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."
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Somehow, Darian found himself with company, despite his threats and glares. She was not intimidated as she should be. What was wrong with the woman? Did she not know that all women are subject to their husbands. That every word was to be obeyed without question?
Yet, here they were. Strolling over his land together. And despite her promise, she asked question after question, keeping him talking the whole morning. It disturbed him mightily, not that she was talking so much, but that he didn't mind answering her questions.
Together they visited the craftsmen, the smith, and the miller. Then they drifted to one of the cottager's land to settle a problem there.
To Kristy it was such a wonderful morning. She was discovering that her gruff husband, was a man of fairness and honor. The way that he talked to his people, let her know that he was a man who cared deeply for those under his command. He even showed protectiveness towards her. When a dog came running up to her, Darian quickly stepped in its path, shielding her from harm. It had been instinctive and immediate. She wondered if he realized what he had done.
They rested by the lake, during the noon hour and ate their lunch that one of the servants had packed them. There was a nice breeze blowing off the water and Kristy thought that it was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. She also sent a prayer of thanks that she was enjoying it with a man that was becoming less and less a stranger to her, and more and more a friend.
"Well, Christiana, what do you think of Greystone now that you've been here a few days?" Darian asked, once they had finished eating.
She leaned back against a tree. "It's awesome!"
"It's what?"
She looked at him and smiled. "It means that I am in awe."
He studied her for a moment. "You say that as if you've never seen such lands, yet Cranbrook is even more grander than Greystone."
Kristy felt like she was walking in a minefield! "Uh…well…each place is beautiful…you know…in it's own way."
"Hmmm," he answered. He kept his gaze on her, and she tried not to squirm. "You are a strange girl. I don't believe I've ever encountered a woman that displayed such theatrics or boldness as you do."
Stick to what you know, she urged herself, as she answered carefully. "Well, I must take after my mother. She was Scottish and bold as brass!"
"I understood your mother was French," he said evenly. Why was she lying to him again? Would he ever be able to trust her if she'd lie about such trivial matters as this?
She gulped. "Uh…yeah, that's right. She died when I was young. I forget these things. Maybe I always wanted her to be Scott."
He was taken aback. "Why would you want your mother to be kin to those barbarians from the North?"
That hole she was digging was getting deeper and deeper! "Oh, enough about me, let's talk about you," Kristy said with a hopeful expression.
He looked bored and laid back, looking at the sky. "'Tis nothing to tell. I was born at Greystone, fostered at D'Arbenville and have served my king in various parts of the world," he recited.
She looked down at his hard features. "I heard that the crusades were a terrible thing to witness."
"They were even worse to participate in," he said quietly, and Kristy heard the pain in his voice. "By the end, I wasn't even sure that we were fighting for a just cause. But you can't stop to wonder or question when you are in the battle. Stopping will cause your death."
She waited for him to continue, but he didn't. She knew that he'd shared much more than he'd wanted to. So to lighten the mood, she asked, "You know, I've heard stories that a man name Robin Hood lives around these parts. Ever heard of him?"
He looked sharply at her. "How came you to know of this man?"
Jealously was rearing it's green head. Kristy loved it! "I heard stories about him stealing from the rich and giving to the poor."
He relaxed again and shrugged his shoulders. "I've heard something of a bandit that's been stealing from the landowners, recently. But whether, he is giving his proceeds to the poor is a matter that seems entirely unlikely."
"That's just too cool!" Kristy said, thinking that she might be able to see the actual Robin Hood!
"If you are cold, there is a blanket in the bottom of the basket," he murmured, as his eyes drifted closed.
Kristy just shook her head and smiled as he drifted off to sleep. He was truly the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. Especially in his sleep, since he wasn't frowning or glowering at her. Beside him, Cory, her ex, would look like a wimp…which he was. And Darian was making her forget all about what's-his-face. She couldn't believe that she actually thought that she loved him. Especially when she found herself falling in love with her husband.
And the feelings that she felt for him were so powerful and unlike any other, it left her stunned.
************************************************************ **************************
It was late afternoon and the servants were clearing the dishes from the table. Darian and his men were once again huddled together looking at some sort of map and this time they had asked Sidra to join them.
Kristy cast a glance over at the group and sighed to herself, feeling a little left out. The warm fuzzy feeling that she'd felt with Darian fizzled out the moment they stepped back into the castle and he because the Barbarian, once again.
What were they discussing and how come she couldn't be in on it, too? She thought about trying out that needlepoint that Sidra had been teaching her lately but decided she wasn't in the mood to tackle that. Would she ever be in the mood for such mundane entertainment? It was time such as these that she wished she had her television. A radio would even be nice! She'd been a big fan of country music and missed getting to listen to it everyday.
She got up from her chair and stretched her arms out. She eyed the side door that was slightly ajar. Maybe a little fresh cool air would do her good.
She walked past her husband and was going to tell him where she was off to, but when he didn't so much as lift his head and acknowledge that she stood by him, she sniffed and walked on past him and out the doors. There was a breeze blowing but not too terribly cold so Kristy decided to walk the short distance to the herb garden, beside the tower.
She had only been out there a few minutes, sitting a stone bench, when she heard someone approach. Since she was sitting in the shadows, Percy, Darian's squire and another youth didn't see her, as they strolled along the garden's path.
The youth spoke, "I heard that Prince John was very generous with his gift giving this trip." He snickered. "Too bad his generosity didn't extend to squires."
Percy sent him a sharp look and defend, "Oh, he would have if my lord had not refused it for me." He sighed and went on. "It seems I am never to know what it's like to be with a woman."
"Nay, twill happen. As sure as the sun rises or the flowers grow." They stood in silence a minute longer then Percy chuckled,
"What I would not have given to bed the wench that Darian was given. Oh, she was a beauty for sure. 'Tis no wonder that he looked so tired the next morn!"
As she heard his words. Kristy froze, and for a moment couldn't seem to breath. A pain was forming in her chest and she just barely choked back a sob.
"What a life a nobleman has, eh, Percy? A wife who's beauty outshines that of the moon and the stars, there for whenever he chooses to take her, and women all over England to satisfy him when he is away from the nest. That is the life!" the young man exuberantly exclaimed stretching his arms wide, making his point.
Percy laughed and agreed and together they disappeared within the castle walls.
It was a few moments more before Kristy decided to move from her seat. Her hand pressed against her chest as her breath came rapid and heavy. How dare he. How dare he!
Sure, he had not promised her that he would be faithful. But
part of her would not accept it. How could he be with someone else after just marrying her? Was he that desperate to sleep with someone?
Fool. Fool. Fool! Dear Lord, how could she be so stupid! Angrily she stood up and strode back into the castle doors. Darian still did not even look up, so she brushed past him and up the stairs. There she ran into Warrick, Darian's manservant.
"Warrick, I want all my things moved out of the Earl's chamber and into another room." she commanded him defiantly.
"Mi…milady, I...I cannot! My lord would have my head for such a task..." he stammered, clearly uneasy at her requested.
"Am I not the mistress of this house?" she stormed at him.
"Aye. milady....But..but I cannot. I am sorry, Lady Kristy..." he bowed his head and cowardly retreated down the hall.
She practically growled after him, she was so mad. She went to the chamber and started grabbing up her belongings and stuffing them into a trunk.
Nan came into the room, startled when she saw her mistress furiously throwing things around the room. "Milady! What are you about in such a state?"
Her head came up and a look of relief came into her eyes as she saw Nan. "Nan! Please you've got to help me gather my things. I'm moving out of here and into another room."
"My lady! But...why?"
She twirled around and held up a comb that she had clutched in her hand and waved it around as she spoke. "Because my husband is a no good, unfaithful, adulterous cheat! Now will you please help me?"
So she found out! Nan thought bleakly. "Aye, milady. Just try and calm down. I will have you moved out of this room in no time!" She quickly jumped into action.
************************************************************ ******************
Darian looked seriously at his sister and told her, "Sidra, this is a very dangerous thing for us to ask of you. If you do not want to do this, then we will not do it."
She placed a small hand on her brother's arm. "No, Darian. I fully understand and I want to do this. He killed our father and brother, and he must not be allowed to get away with such a dreadful crime. This is the only way."
Darian let out a slow resigned breath and agreed. "Aye, 'tis the only way. But know this Sidra, we will protect you. No harm will come to you if I have to put my life on the line!" he firmly swore to her.
She smiled at him and said, "I know that, Brother, but it will not come to that." She arose and looked around the table at them all, "Now if you will please excuse me, 1 will retire."
Tilden watched her walk out of the great hall and hurriedly dismissed himself also.
He caught up with her in narrow stairwell. "Wait! Sidra!"
She turned seemed surprised that he had followed her. She folded her hands across her chest and said wearily, "What is it, Tilden. I am not in the mood to spar cross words with you this night."
He stood on the step below her causing them to be on the same head level. He took her arm softly and looked at her like she'd never seen him do. "Don't do this, Sidra. Tell Darian to find a decoy and keep you out of this."
She looked at him questioningly and ask, "Why Tilden? What should it matter to you!"
Her eyes widen and her breath became short when he lifted a hand to softly caress her cheek. "It matters, my Lady Sidra. It matters…" His lips fastened on hers, tender yet forceful.
Sidra was frozen with shock. Finally she began to regain her wits and push him away. "Tilden, you must not! I did not know..."
"That I felt this way about you? Nay, I cannot believe that if you would think about us, how we've been whenever we were in each other's company, that you could deny knowing the truth." His hand was still caressing her cheek.
A touch that seemed to make her tremble. "But we've done nothing but fight..."
"We spark, my lady. Can you not see that our arguing only stems from our frustration that we are not doing what we long to do? And that is to be in one another's arms." His voice was low and raspy. His eyes seemed to be looking into her very soul.
"No!" she tried to retreat further up the stairs.
"Yes!" he answered catching her hand and hauling her into his arms. His lips crushed upon hers once again, coaxing, urging her to respond.
And respond, she did. Kissing him, she realized, is what she'd always wanted to do. That spark that always sizzled when they were together, grew into a full blown flame as they touched. Why, why had she not seen it…realized it before?
But maybe, she had known and refused it because their loving each other simply could not be.
"No!" she cried and wrenched her lips away. "Oh, Tilden. We cannot! I can never belong to you!"
He folded her back into his arms, clutching her cheek to his chest. "I know that, my lady. But my feelings could not be hidden any longer. Not when you may be walking into danger." He pull her from him so that he could look into her face. "I love you, Sidra. I have loved you since you were ten and six, maybe even earlier. I could not bear it if something was to happen and you ended up in the clutches of Worthingham. Please, my lady, please tell Darien you cannot go," he pleaded.
Tears formed in her eyes and she closed them tightly. She felt torn, confused. "I have to, Tilden. This is something that I must do," she stated firmly, then opened up her eyes and looked into his, allowing the tears to flow openly. She brought her palm up to his face and cradled his jaw. "Why Tilden? Why did you have to make me aware of your feelings…aware of my own, it was easier when we just ignored what we felt. How can we go on as if nothing has happened?"
"I know not, my Sidra. I know not..." This time it was she who sought his lips. It was like tasting of forbidden fruit, she knew, but she could not help herself, it was unfair that she a daughter of an earl, would not be permitted to marry a landless knight. So unfair.
Footsteps within the stairwell broke them apart. "It's Darien!" she whispered frantically.
He pushed her gently away from him and nudged her up the stairs, "Go, 'tis alright."
Tilden turned and retreated down, meeting Darien close to the bottom. "Tilden!" he said in a surprised tone. "Is something amiss?"
Tilden evaded his curious stare and replied quickly. "No, tis a matter that I had to discuss with the Lady Sidra, that is all."
Darien cocked an eyebrow, wondering whether that was a flush on Tilden's face or the light from the torch mounted along the wall. "I see." He really didn't.
"Well…goodnight, Darien.." he brushed past him, as if he were trying to escape him.
Now Darien was really curious. "Goodnight..." he answered but Tilden was already out of sight.
Shrugging his shoulders he climbed the rest of the steps and pushed open his chamber door, tired but eager. He thought about all the time he'd spent with her. Surely that was enough! Surely the bargain was fulfilled and she would, at last, come to his bed!
He suddenly stopped. "What the devil..." he swore in puzzlement as he looked at the room that was in disarray. He looked over to the bed and found it empty. "Christiana!" he growled and went over to the dressing room and yanked opened the door.
Empty. This time it was louder, "CHRISTIANA!" He slammed the door and stormed out into the hallway.
"Warrick!" he bellowed, his voice practically shaking the castle walls.
The skittish servant appeared quickly and stammered, "Yes…Yes, milord?"
"Where is she? Where is my wife?" he yelled at the man gripping his arm painfully.
"I suppose she has move..moved into a..another room, mylord. She…she asked for my help, but I, of course, refused!" he explained rapidly gaining confidence at the end.
Darian shoved his way past the servant and went to search for her, himself. He went to the first closed door he found and started banging on it. "Christiana, open this door!"
No answer.
"By God, woman you open this door or I'l1 knock it down. You will not lock me out!"
No answer.
No woman was going to gain the upper hand on Darien Maxwell! And she better bloody well start realizing it!
He backed away from the door and then charged toward it nearly knocking it off it's hinges. He pushed his way into the darkness and realized he couldn't see a thing. Retreating back into the hall he grabbed a candle from the wall and stomped back into the chamber.
It was empty. Nothing but sheets draped the furniture, the bed was stripped, the room cold.
He had burst into the wrong room,
From the end of the hall he heard a discreet little cough. He turned towards the sound and found his wife in the doorway of another chamber, arms folded across her chest, a droll expression on her face.
"Looking for something, Darien? Me, perhaps?" came her taunting reply.
He set his lips into grim line and, his jaw clenched tightly. "What is the meaning of all this? What game are you playing now, Christiana?" he barked at her.
She smiled bitterly and gave him a cold look. "I'm not sure. Right now all I see is a mean, lowdown, dishonorable, scheming, adulterous BARBARIAN!" And with that, she slammed the door in his stunned, gaping face.

Chapter 8

Darian stood still for a brief moment, trying to make sense of her words. Adulterous? What did she mean by that? He'd been as celibate as a monk since marrying Christiana!
London! He suddenly realized. Someone had told her about the wench that John had given him. A roguish grin spread across his face. The little she-cat was jealous!
He strode to the door and knocked on it, softer this time. "Christiana, let me in," he said in a calm voice.
"No."
"So you've judged me guilty without hearing my side?" There was laughter in his voice.
The door opened to a crack and he could see just part of her stormy face. "Are you trying to tell me that you didn't have a woman in your room in London?"
"No, but…"
Slam! The door shut back in his face, nearly taking his nose with it. This time his voice contained no laughter.
"Christiana, I'm losing my patience! Let me in. Now!" he commanded.
There was no answer from the other side and she made no effort to heed his order.
"Christiana, I have knocked one door down tonight, and, by God, I will not hesitate to do it once more!"
The door was then flung open and Kristy had already turned her back, walking back towards the far ************************************************************ **** She looked out into the darkness and charged, "Say what you've got to say, then get out."
He took a deep breath and wondered why he was even bothering explaining at all. He shouldn't have to explain himself to a woman. He should just throw her over his shoulder and take her to his bed.
But he didn't. For reasons he didn't dare try to understand, he was going to tell her that he had had the chance to be unfaithful but couldn't. He came and stood close to her back without yet touching her. His hands folding behind his hack.
"As I was about to tell you, my lady, there was indeed a woman in my room in London. Prince John had sent her there." He paused. He saw her shoulder stiffen. "But I sent her away, Christiana."
Sent her away? "Before or after?"
With an exasperated breath he turned her around and forced her to look at him. "Nothing happened. She was willing but I was not."
She held her breath, "Why?"
He smiled then and marveled at the opportunity that had opened up to him. If he was ever going to get anywhere with her, he'd better start appealing to what women responded to most…her vanity. He reached up and ran his fingers in her loose hair, caressing her nape. "Because, my beauty, there was only one woman who I wanted. The only once that I could not stop my mind from thinking of, and that was you."
"You thought of me?" she asked breathlessly.
"I thought of nothing else," he returned, mentally giving himself a pat on the back. He was almost there! He quickly judged the quickest route to the bed. It wasn't made up, but he wasn't picky, just desperate.
"Oh! Darian...." She threw her arms around his neck and he held her tightly against him.
"Kiss me, my love. I want to feel your mouth on mine..." he whispered against her ear, nibbling on it's softness. If he could just kiss her, she'd be his. No doubts there. She was practically melting in his arms.
"I would love to Darian," she whispered in his ear, causing shivers of desire to run up his body.
"Then lets waste time, no more…" he responded and leaned back to press his lips on hers.
"But it would spoil it, so we'd better not."
Instead of lips, Darian found his lips pressed against her hand. His passion fogged brain could only muster up one word. "Pardon?"
Kristy backed out of his arms. "Oh, this is just as I imagined it, Darian. I get jealous, you come running after me to reassure me, we embrace…." She sighed. "It's such a beautiful beginning to our courtship!"
Things were slowly coming back into focus and nothing seemed to make since. "Courtship?"
She smiled at him. "Yes, and it's so thoughtful of you to be so patient with our relationship, and allowing it to grow gradually!"
"Thoughtful."
"MmmHmmm." She sighed again.
Where did I go wrong? he thought.
"Well, I'd better turn in! Goodnight!" She reached up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips and before he could grab her, she was flying past him and out of the door.
"Women!" He raged to the empty room. "I will have gone mad, before I ever get her into my bed!"
Outside in the hall, as she raced to her chamber, Kristy rolled her eyes. "Men!" she murmured. "Does he think I stupid or what?"
She stepped into the room, locked it, then walked over the ************************************************************ **** Wrapping her arms around her she stared off into the night.
Not a star in the sky. Just as well! she thought. Look what the last wish had gotton her into! And though she knew that she was starting to feel something for Darian, she wasn't sure she wanted to stay in the strange century.
"You seem pleased with yourself, my child." a soothing male voice sounded behind her,
She knew who it was before she had turned around, Jubal. "It's about time you showed up!" she snapped at the angel who still wore the same flowing ivory robes as last time.
"Were you in need of me?" he asked with a tone that sounded a just a little mocking.
"I was in need of you the minute you popped out of here! Are we through here? Can I leave now?" She paced about the room as she raved on and on.
Jubal stood patiently waiting until she had finished her tirade then asked her softly. "Is that what you really wish? To go home?"
She plopped down on the bed and ran her fingers through her head, A look of misery marred her face. "Oh Jubal. I don't know. I do and I don't. Darian has got me so tied up inside," She sighed and looked up at the angel. "I think I'm falling in love with him. How could I do that to myself? How could I give my heart to someone who will never love me in return?" she asked exasperatingly.
He went over and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "As I said before, you mustn't give up. Darian has already given you more of himself than he had wanted to. He wants to love you, Kristy. He just needs time."
"I'm trying, Jubal. I'm darn well trying," she told him tiredly.
Then she asked, "By the way, how is Christiana doing in my place?"
Jubal gave her a bemused smile, "She is, shall I say, trying to adjust to the American life. Your sister has taken her in hand, 'modernizing' her, if you will."
She looked thoughtful, "Then Danielle knows?"
"Your sister took one look at her and demand to know where her sister had been taken!" He chuckled in a musical way. "A very astute young lady, your sister is!"
Despite her wave of homesickness, Kristy smiled. Her sister, the ever practical one. She would sure as heck know how to deal with a man like Darian,
Darian. The smile faded into a forlorn expression. She rose from the bed and then leaned against the heavy bed post, a weary hand rubbing her forehead. "Oh, Jubal. Will it get better? Will we find happiness?"
"Believe, child. No matter what crosses your path--no matter if it may look hopeless. Believe." The wise being urged her. Then he was gone.
The resounding sound of thunder exploded on the other side of the castle walls. The sheets of hard rain that poured from the darkened sky sounded like sheets of paper sweeping along the floor as it drenched the English countryside. It had been this way for much of the morning and it seemed it would not be letting up anytime soon. It should have been a dull dreary day. No one even dared to venture out into the down pour, instead all who dwelled in the fortress stayed within it's confounds, servants doing their usual business (albeit a little slower). Darian and his higher ranked guard huddle together in the Great Hall were drinking ale and Sidra was tutoring Kristy on the fine arts of tapestry making (which though she was getting the hand of it, it somehow cease to provide her with the mental stimulation that her sister—in—law promised it would.)
Yes, it should have been a bleak, dull day. But it was proving to be just the opposite. There was a comfortable, almost homey feeling in the room. Gone was the tension that usually existed when Kristy and Darian where in the same vicinity of each other and in it's place was a growing awareness, a mutual attraction for the other.
Several times Kristy had caught her husband glancing her way, though he tried hard to hide it. And the reason Kristy had caught him in the act so often was because, she too, had been taking peeks of her own his way. Once she could have sworn he had actually blushed when her eyes had lifted to his while he studied her. But, of course, it had to be a play of the candlelight. The Earl of Greystone would never get all flustered enough to blush!
Sidra gave her sister—in—law a patient look, waiting for her to quit mooning like a love—sick hound over her brother, She had sit and watched Kristy sew the same stitch three times in the same place, ruining the whole effect of what she was trying to accomplish. But what did it matter? It was just so good to see this change between the two——more pointedly, the change in her brother. Ah, it was indeed, good to see the rough lines in Darian's face relax and soften. Merciful heavens, he was even smiling--a slight curve at the corners of his mouth, but a smile none the less!
Having a will of their own, Sidra eye's lifted and settled on the golden, handsome man that sat next to her brother. Vividly, the feel of his touch, the sweet pressure of his mouth, came running before her minds-eye, effecting her nearly the same as they had the night before. Why had she not seen it before? He had always disturbed her, pricked her ire. Now she knew why. She had been attracted to him but her mind had refused to acknowledge something so fruitless.
A regret-filled sigh escaped her and she dragged her eyes away from his beautiful body. It 'twould do no good to pine for something that could only come to naught.
The sigh snapped Kristy's attention back to Sidra. "What was that for?" she queried, eyebrows lifted in question.
She got real curious when Sidra did not lift her eyes, but instead concentrated on her tapestry stitches. "'Tis nothing," she told her quickly. Too quickly. And was her complexion growing a little pink?
She narrowed her eyes at her friend and ordered, "Okay, out with it. Who is he?"
Sidra did a miserable job of feigning ignorance. "He? I cannot imagine what you mean, Kristy."
"The 'he' that is the cause for that heartfelt sigh I just heard you let go!" She teased. And then she caught Sidra quick unconscious glance at Tilden.
"I knew it! I knew behind all that arguing, there lurked an attraction! You're in love Tilden, aren't you!" she announce, quite proud of herself for being right in her assumptions.
But Sidra's face did not reflect Kristy's enthusiasm. In fact she look a great deal apprehensive. "Please, Kristy, you mustn't say that! If Darian thought that we... Tilden and I simply cannot be," she whispered insistently.
"But I don't understand, Sidra. I know Tilden feels something for you, I'm sure of it. Why wouldn't Darian be happy about it?" A frown of puzzlement marred her face as she searched Sidra eyes.
"1 am a daughter of an earl, Kristy. Tilden is a son of a landless knight. He does have noble blood, his father had been the fifth son of a baron and had been left no lands, but you see that makes no difference. It does not change our standing in life. I would never be allowed to marry Tilden." she explained in a despairing tone.
Kristy shook her head in amazement. Being from a world where the poorest born person could arise in life and do and be anything they wanted if they worked hard enough, made it seem incredible that such trivial things such as whether of not you had land, could stand in the way of two person's happiness.
"There must be a way...." Kristy began to argue the point.
"No! Kristy we must speak no more of this. Darian has told me he would see me married. So you see I will soon be away from Tilden and the attraction will die." She quickly dismissed anymore arguments, though to even her own ears the last words rang so very false. "Now, about that the tapestry you destroying beyond recognition..." she quickly turned the conversation to safer ground.
A while later, it was well apparent that the brave knights of Greystone were steadily on their way to getting very sauced. After all they had done nothing but indulge in cup after cup of ale the whole afternoon. There voices were growing louder and ever so often there would be a great burst of laughter, usually after Sir Will got through with one of his bawdy jokes.
Kristy had finally given up on the tapestry business and instead decided to look over some of the castle's accounts. Though twelfth century writing was still somewhat hard to understand, she was steadily beginning to decipher the words if she studied them slowly. And since she was always good with figures, even managing her own fortune she had acquired through modeling, she had decided to work with Darian's steward (who was so old he could now barely see or hear). She was pretty well engrossed in what she was doing, until Tilden's words caused her to pause and look up.
"Vachel, my dear friend, you would bloody well, lead us to the edge of the earth, if you thought it would bring down the enemy!" Tilden declared, slightly slurring his words together.
"Ha! Even Vachel couldn't bring that about!" she said in a know—it—all voice from across the room.
Tilden raised an eyebrow and returned, "And what, Countess, do mean by that'?"
Kristy rose and shrugged her shoulders as she walked over to where they gathered. "You can't very well go to the edge of the earth if the earth is round," she informed.
THAT brought on hoots of laughter and guffaws from the tipsy guard, included her husband.
Darian eyed her incredulously. "That dear wife is the most preposterous thing I've ever heard you say! The earth round! Would we not all slide off it that were the case?" He sounded just a little too condescending. And Kristy Kendrick did not like being talked down to.
"You think you are so clever, don't you. Well tell me then how the sun always goes from east to west across the sky. Have you ever seen it come back across? Where does it go?" She challenged them pertly, arms crossed, fingers drumming at her elbow.
"Well...." Darian started but stopped and looked to his men for the answer. His men however could only give him a blank look. They would be of no help. Then a rather inventive answer come to him. "Why, who are we to question the workings of God!"
Kristy couldn't help but smile at that one. "Oh, that was a quick answer, Darian, but just a little lame," she told him dryly.
Darian frowned. "What does that mean? I am not a lame man!"
"It means your answer was not at all intelligent!"
Darian stood and towered over her, trying to intimidate her, and failing to do so. "You dare call me unintelligent, madam!" he demanded softly, and only Kristy saw the teasing glint in his eyes, for the rest of the men grew strangely quiet, one even drew a quick breath.
She leaned closer to his face that was bent toward her, their noses almost touching. "Yeah, what cha going to do about it." she taunted, a smile playing at her soft lips.
Their eyes held for a sizzling second more, so completely and blatantly aware of the other. They were not even yet touching, but you could feel the electricity that surrounded them.
Kristy didn't know whether she moved towards him or he moved towards her, but somehow she found herself engulfed in his brawny arms, her arms around his neck and there lips clinging, hungrily tasting.
lt didn't matter that they were surrounded by his men who sat their with their mouths agape in amazement, Sidra who was grinning widely and watching with great interest, and the servants who had stopped what they were doing to witness such unusual behavior from their master.
It didn't matter, that is until the whole castle erupted in applause, loud whoops, and whistles. Reality came crashing down around them and they reluctantly parted.
A very out of breath Kristy, could do naught but stare in amazement at her husband, who seemed to be in the very same state she was in. Good Lord! What was she doing, practically making out with him in front of all these people? She would have thought she had more control than that! But with Darian she couldn't know what to expect. With him she became someone different altogether!
Darian was thinking the same thing himself. Any more displays such as this and he'd start becoming less intimidating to his men! What would they think, of their lord and master letting a woman talk to him in such a way? She was getting to him. But God help him, he could not bring himself to care about it overmuch. Nay, he even enjoyed it!
She was still in the circle of his arms, neither too anxious to move. A mischievous grin lingered on Darian's lips and he quipped, "It's still flat!"
"Oh, you!" She playfully hit at his chest, laughing at she spoke. "You can disbelieve me all you want. It won't change the fact that the world is round!"
Tilden motioned for them to sit. "Come sit with us, milady and tell us what other of the world's mysteries we mortals have been ignorant about! I sure it will prove much more entertaining than Sir Wills horrid attempts at being funny!" He sent Sir Will a poke in the ribs and received feigned look of hurt from the knight.
To her further surprise, Darian sat and drew her to sit on his lap, his arms coming about her comfortably. "Please do, Christiana, entertain us with your stories. These lazy knights have naught else to!"
And entertain them she did, though all she did was tell them about things that would happen in the future, things that were common place knowledge to her. To them she seemed such like a good storyteller with a great imagination. If they only knew!
And all the while she sat upon Darian's lap she stayed well aware of his presence. His hand absently rubbing her arm, his fingers slowly feeling their way to her hand where they intimately laced with hers. His chest felt warm against her back, his breath sweet upon her cheek. She could feel the vibration of his voice when he spoke or laughed. She felt HIM. He exuded power and strength. His very presence spoke of authority. Yet now she felt something else. A gentleness. A tenderness. It was true that these traits were a great contrast from the role he tried to play but she knew they were there. She knew they were reawakening where they once had lain dormant. Suppressed.
It was happening. What she had wish, what she had always desired, was starting to happen. It didn't matter that she had to travel into the past to see it come to pass, or that she had leave her family and friends. This was now her family. This, though filled will drunken lazy knights, was her home. This, though still very unfamiliar, was now her life.

chapter 9

"My Lord sent me to bring you a summons, my lady. He bids you come to his chamber directly," Warrick informed her in his most uptight and snooty voice. He stood with shoulders back and looking not at her, but somewhere over her shoulder. At first Kristy wasn't even sure the man's servant was talking to her!
Three days had passed since the rains had come and it was now evening. Kristy and Sidra were just coming in from a stroll in the gardens when Warrick approached them.
Kristy looked curiously at the man. "What for?"
Warrick blinked and looked as if he'd not understood her.
She sighed. "What does he want?"
Warrick sniffed and stuck his nose higher in the air. "He desires that you bathe him, my lady."
It was Kristy's turn to blink. "Excuse me."
Sidra quickly jumped in. "Tell Darian that the countess will be up shortly, Warrick."
"Very well," he muttered and left them.
Kristy turned to Sidra. "Tell me I didn't hear right! He wants me to bathe him? He can't bathe himself?"
Sidra smiled. "Kristy, 'tis our way. It's the woman of the house's duty to assist with bathing the lord. That he has not asked for you, just shows that he was giving you time."
Kristy's mind raced. How could she be that near to him…touch him… and something not happen! But then again, what was she waiting for?
LOVE! She argued with herself. Yet, she knew that she loved Darian. She knew it with every look that he gave her, every small touch of his hand. The last three days had been wonderful between them. He'd taken time to talk with her and get to know her. He'd been kind and charming…and patient.
Had his patience ran its course? They were married after all. Was she just being silly waiting for his declaration of love? What if he loved her, but didn't know how to say it?
It was all so confusing! Sometimes when he looked at her, she was sure that there must be some sort of feeling that he felt for her, and other times, when he seemed aloof, she was unsure.
"So, what do I do?"
"You just wash his back and anything else he ask you to. I would think that it shouldn't be so hard," she said with a teasing grin.
"But you know that we have not been…um…intimate, yet. That makes things a little…awkward!" she said with a red face.
"But you love him, Kristy," Sidra answered softly.
"How did you…"
"It's written in your eyes and heard in your voice."
Kristy groaned. "I didn't know I was so obvious."
"Only to another woman." She grinned. "Men are not as fast divining these things. Especially when they are struggling with feelings of their own."
Kristy looked at Sidra with hopeful eyes. "Do you think that he cares for me?"
"Yes, I do. I have not seen him this way since he married Isabella."
Kristy felt her heart constrict at hearing Darian's first wife's name. "He loved her very much, didn't he."
Sidra looked away. "Yes, and she hurt him terribly."
"Will you tell me about her?"
"No." Sidra looked at her again. "Not today. You have a very large man to bathe, I do believe. And he's water is growing colder as we speak!"
Kristy wiped her palms on her skirt and tried to smile. "Well, I guess I'd better get to it, then."
Sidra gave her a quick hug. "Just love him, sister. That is all he needs. All he has ever wanted, though he does not realize it."
Kristy hugged her back then pulled away. Taking a deep fortified breath, she squared her shoulders and turned towards the stairs. "Wish me luck," she called over her shoulder.
"I wish you love," Sidra called back.
****************
Darian paced back and forth in his chamber as the servants worked hard filling his bath. He wore a dark foreboding expression that made the servants do their task that much faster.
But they'd mistaken his look for anger and that was not the case. Nay, he was troubled and yes, even worried, he'd done the right thing. By all that was right, of course he did the right thing! he argued with himself. Yet he remained uncertain.
He knew that he'd come to care for Christiana. He cared for her more than he was willing to admit. To do so would put him in the vulnerable position that he'd been in when he was wed to Isabella. Yet, he wanted her like he'd never wanted Isabella. A part of her reached out to him. It made him want to hold her to himself, protect her, never let her out of his sight.
Ah, 'twas a mistake to think this way. It was because they'd been together these few days. That must be why he was thinking this way! Had he ever felt so comfortable and free around a woman? Nay, he had not. They could talk for hours or say nothing. It mattered not. It just felt good being with his wife.
His wife. That was the rub. He wanted to make her his true wife! Surely they had had enough time to get to know one another as Christiana put it! His body ached to love her and he was running out of patience. He wanted her in his bed this night and every night hence. By God, he would see that it happened!
At least, he hoped that it would happen. With Christiana, one never knew.
The servants finished their task and escaped the room like there was fire licking at their heels. He had to chuckle. He'd better get into a better frame of mind, else Christiana would be fleeing the same way.
Anticipation built in his chest as he removed his clothing. She would be here soon. How would she react to touching him, bathing his bare flesh? He knew that he would be in flames. Would she feel the same?
Easing himself into the hot, steamy bath he consciously eased his features into a pleasant expression.
Then…the door opened and there she stood. His eyes met hers and he knew. He felt it to his very soul.
***************
Christiana nervously licked her lips as she stared at the naked man in the huge ********************************l tub. Lord, have mercy, but he was gorgeous. All those bulging muscles in his arms and chest and that black hair curling about his shoulders…why she'd never seen a romance novel cover with a sexier man! And by the look of him, the hooded gaze he was sending her way, she knew that he wanted her. And Heaven help her, she wanted him too.
But she wasn't going to let him know that…at least, not yet.
"I just want to go on record, right now, and say that I've never even heard of this custom. I don't understand why a grown man can't give himself a bath," she told him with a teasing smile in her voice and shining in her eyes.
He gave her a sexy smile that could melt a lollipop right off its stick. "Because, its more fun if his wife does it for him."
She swallowed. He did have a point!
Christiana walked closer. "So…how does one go about this…uh…bathing business?"
He reached over the tub and grabbed something off the floor. "Here's the cloth and here is the soap. Why don't you start with my back."
Okay. The back was good. Safe. No big deal. She lathered the soap into the rag, or rather tried to. Soap wasn't the soft bubbly stuff it was the 20th century!
Carefully she started rubbing the cloth along his shoulders. So far so good. He was leaning forward, so she continued in a downward motion until she encountered the water. She quickly dipped her hand beneath the water and swiped what was left of his back, careful not to stray any further and moved back up, audibly breathing a sigh of relief.
Darian grinned at the sound and slowly leaned back. "Now my chest," he ordered in a low voice.
Steady girl! she warned herself. You can do this!! She soaped up the rag again, but before she reached his chest, his hand encircled her wrist.
"I would rather you use your hand."
Kristy's eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"
He looked at her innocently. "It, uh, tickles using the cloth."
Kristy rolled her eyes. She would bet good money that he didn't have a ticklish bone in his body! But from the look of his little grin that he wore, she knew that he was issuing a challenge. She was always a sucker for a challenge.
"Okay," she said, and draped the cloth on the side of the tub. She soaped up her hands and tried to catch her breath.
Lordy! Half of her wanted to reach out and run her fingers along the muscles of his strong chest…the other part of her…the sane and logical part, wanted to run for her life!
Tentatively she reached out and placed one hand, then the other. The feel of his warm skin made her own skin feel warm. Very warm! His chest was hard, yet when she felt his heartbeat, she knew that beneath all the muscle and the 'strong man' façade, there lived a living breathing man. A man capable of emotions and feelings. A man capable to…love.
He moved and she realized that she had stopped. Slowly she lifted her eyes and found his, blazing at her with such a passion filled intensity that, for a moment, she froze. He lifted his hand out of the water and covered the one that lay over his heart.
"Do you feel how it beats for you, my lady?" he asked in a husky voice.
She could not look away. Neither could she find her voice. She could do nothing except nod her head, yes.
"Am I to wait another night, Christiana? Am I to spend this night alone?"
As the country song says, "This ain't no thinkin' thing…" And it wasn't one at that moment. She went with her gut feeling. "No. You'll not sleep alone, tonight."
She loved him. With her whole being, she loved Darian Maxwell, Earl of Greystone.
And she made the mistake…of telling him so…

Chapter 10

Darian froze as he stared down with horror at his wife. "Do not speak those words, madam," he told her harshly, stressing each word.
Kristy shook her head against the pillow. "I don't understand," she said faintly, all the while cursing herself for saying those three little words. She hadn't meant to say them.
"Love," he spat out, "is just a word women use to twist a man to do their bidding. It will not work with me."
Embarrassed and angry she pushed him back and sat up, clutching the covers to her chest. "Look, Mr. Male Egotistical Maniac, if I tell a person I love them, then I love them. No big deal, got it? You can take your warped view of the world and stuff it, because I'm tired of being hit over the head with it." She tried to get out of the bed but he stopped her.
"What do you mean by ego-ti... whatever you said! What does that mean?"
Kristy rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you took something innocent that I told you and made it a huge issue. I can't help that I love you, Darian, and you shouldn't be threatened by it."
He didn't like that. "I am not threatened by it!"
She just looked at him. "Oh?"
He stared at her for another moment, then flipped back on his back and sighed. "My only dealings with love were not very happy. Maybe I am threatened by it, as you say."
Whoa! Did Darian just admit he was...WRONG?? Don't gloat, she warned herself. "Your marriage to Isabella?" she ventured.
"Yes." He stared up at the ceiling of the canopy, then looked over to Kristy.
"You loved her."
"Aye, I loved her, or I thought I did," he answered quietly, thoughtfully. "But when I look back over our life together, after she had betrayed me, I realize that my love had been somewhat blind and one sided. Now, I remember things about her that I had simply overlooked before. Her selfishness, her flirtations ways to men she would meet, how she would pout to get her way...she could practically talk anybody into anything, she had such a way about her." He reached out and took a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his thumb and finger. "When I walked into that bedchamber that day, and found her with my captain-of-the-guard, I wanted to kill them both."
"Did you?" Kristy asked carefully.
"No," he answered and smiled when she let out a relieved breath.
He continued. "She started pleading with me, tears running down her cheeks, saying that it wasn't what I thought it was, and for one insane moment I almost believed her...wanted to believe her. But I'm not a fool and she soon realized it."
He fell quite and Kristy reached out and took his hand in her own. "How did she die?"
"I had left her in the chamber in tears, her lover had already fled the room, and went to Tilden's chamber. I drank myself sick that night and passed out. I was awakened, however, the next morning and told that my wife had left with her lover in the night. But somewhere along the roads they were attacked by bandits. They were robbed and killed. Their bodies left along side of the road to rot. My men brought her body back to Sedgwick Manor and there we buried her."
Tears welled up in Kristy's eyes and she brought Darian's hand to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Darian..." she whispered as she kissed his rough palm.
He tipped her face to where he could see it fully. "Why do you weep, my lady?"
"I'm just sorry that you were hurt so badly. You deserve to have love in your life Darian. Even the angels in Heaven think so." she told him, remembering what Jubal had told her about their concern for him.
His eyes took on a look of unbelief. "You converse with the heavenly beings, do you?"
She just smiled and cuddled up to him. "You'd be surprised," she murmured.
He chuckled. "Nothing that comes out of your mouth surprises me, anymore. Now go to sleep," he ordered softly, folding her into his arms.
"Ok. Goodnight, Darian."
"Goodnight, Christiana." He was silent for a moment, then added, "I meant it earlier Christiana, what I said about love. I don't want you to say it anymore."
She opened her eyes briefly, then closed them. "Okay. I'll just show you then."
He didn't reply.
****************************
The next morning, the whole castle noticed that the Lord and Lady did not rise as early as usual. There were secret smiles and even money exchanged from some of his men who'd been placing bets. There was not much that went on in the castle unnoticed. Gossip was very much a part of medieval life.
There was a meeting that morning, after Darian came down, with all his men. Kristy felt an unease as she watched them discuss their plans. It was about Worthingham, she knew. Was the plan dangerous? Would it put her husband in harms way? Just thinking about it, was giving her a headache, so she went out to the gardens.
"Well, it seems the bath was just the trick to get you two together!"
Kristy turned and saw Sidra sitting among the roses. She wore a sly grin on her face.
Kristy smiled back. "You are right! I've never felt like this, Sidra," she confessed as she sat by her sister-in-law. "But I made the mistake of telling him I loved him...afterward. And he really flipped his lid about it!"
"Flipped his what?"
"He was upset," Kristy amended. "He told me about Isabella and her betrayal. It just makes me so mad that one woman could ruin him where love is concern. He wants nothing to do with it." She covered her face with a groan.
Sidra patted her on the back. "Now, Kristy, do not despair so quickly! He probably already loves you and will not admit it to himself."
Kristy dropped her hands and looked hopefully at Sidra. "Do you think so? And if he does, how am I to ever know?"
"How are you to ever know what?" Darian asked, startling both women. He bent to kiss his sister on the cheek. "How are this morn, Sidra?" he asked happily.
Sidra giggled. "Not as well as you it seems!" With that she scooted off the bench. "I have...things...to do. See you around!"
Darian frowned after her. "She'll see me around what?"
Kristy pulled at him hand so that he would sit by her. "It's just an expression that she's learned from me."
"Dear God! You are not going to have everyone speak like you, are you? I'll never understand what is being said!" he complained.
She rolled her eyes and looped her arm through his. "How did the meeting go?"
He stared at her a moment then stared off into the garden thoughtfully. "We attack after three sennights. We've had word that Worthingham will be away from his lands until then."
Kristy made a mental note to ask Sidra about the word 'sennight'. "Is this dangerous?"
He looked back at her. "Yes. Very dangerous." He then got up from his seat and pulled Kristy up with him. "Walk with me," he ordered.
As they walked along the garden path they came to the gate. He pointed to a distant hill. "That is where we will be going. That is Worthingham's lands."
Kristy looked up at Darian and saw the determination written on his features. His hatred of Worthingham ran deep. She knew that it was on his mind day and night. He had to avenge is father and brother. It was the way, in this barbaric land.

Still holding his hand, Kristy leaned her head against his arm. "You've never told me about your childhood, Darian. What were your parents like? Your brother?" She felt him flinched at her question and she, for a moment, wished she could retract it. Was he still grieving, or was there something else?
Darian rarely thought about his childhood. There wasn't much happiness to account for, so he simply had tried to forget about it. He hadn't talked about his feelings as a boy...ever. Tilden knew. So did Sidra. But they never, never discussed it. But now, his curious wife was wanting to know about him, and instead pushing her away, he felt a sudden need to tell her. A need for her to know why he was, the way he was. Yes, he thought, she would understand. He relaxed.
In low whispering tones he told her of his life growing up at Greystone. He left out nothing. Not the bitterness, the hurt, or his strong need for his father's approval. He spoke of his brother, who Darian had practically worshipped, about his sadness about his brother's death. He then told her about his years of fighting with King Richard in the crusades.
Kristy had the feeling that he was leaving much out about those years. She'd read somewhere that the men who fought in the crusades endured unbelievable horrors. Probably much like the soldiers who fought in Viet Nam.
"And then," he concluded, "our blessed king told me about his 'delightful girl' that he had encountered at court once, and demanded that I marry her." He finished his story in a happier tone than he had used before. "Of course, he neglected to tell me she was such a wild wench, who would try to run away on her wedding day!"
She punched him in the arm. "Well, I was scared! The maids made you sound like a monster or something equally terrifying!"
He scoffed at that. "You did not seem a bit terrified to me. In fact, you were quite tenacious, if memory serves me correctly."
They both laughed and continued on their walk about the garden.
************************************************************ *****
The next two weeks were, in a word, wonderful. And during those weeks, a miraculous change had come over Darian of Greystone. Even his men would stand agape at him, at a sudden burst of laughter from their earl, or the easy smile that that came more frequently, more naturally. And they were taken back at the way he would be right in the middle of castle business or a sword lesson with his squire, and then would get that strange glint in his eye and suddenly leave to seek out his wife.
The serfs and the villagers would find themselves smiling at the besotted couple as they strolled about the grounds, hand in hand, in their own little world that lovers existed in.
Yes, it was all so very wonderful——but unfortunately not perfect. The trap that they were setting for Worthingham loomed over them like a bad omen. When Kristy had been told about their complete plan she had argued in vain, against it. Neither Darian nor Sidra would be talked out of it.
And Kristy was scared. For Darian and Sidra. Anything could go wrong and they could easily be killed or hurt. She felt angry that her new found happiness could suddenly be cut short. Angry that Darian was so intent on getting revenge on this Worthingham character.
But then there was something else. It was only a feeling, but a strong one. Call it woman's intuition or something else, it was real. Something was going to go wrong, she knew it. Maybe too, she had been thinking of the last words that Jubal had told her, No matter what happens....no matter what happens... What had he meant? What had he not told her? It was an ill feeling that would not go away.
And now that day was here and that ill feeling grew stronger.
Standing outside the castle, she watched as they made last minute checks on their supplies and weapons. Several of the guard were dressed in dark green to camouflage themselves as they traveled along the forest. Sidra was ready to enter the carriage, along with Squire Percy. Darian was dressed in his colors of gray and gold. His face set with a determination as he talked quietly with Tilden over details, who was dressed much the same. Off to the side, the pennant of the Grey Eagle already flying proudly, ready for the journey.
Cold wet mist swirled about them in chilly coats. The fog hung low over the damp English soil making it nearly impossible to see ten feet ahead. How would they be able to see if Worthingham attacked them on the road?
Apprehension twisted at Kristy's gut, and inside her their cried a helplessness. Nothing. Nothing she could do or say would stop this from happening. Dear God, please let them be alright. Please, bring them home safely... The prayer was her only hope.
Darian turned from Tilden and walked over to Christiana to say his good-byes. He reached out for her hand and brought it to his lips. "Please do not look so worried, my love, I have every confidence that we shall return safely." he reassured her.
Kristy threw her arms around his neck and held him tight. She felt his arms come about her also, holding just as tight. "Oh Darian, be safe," she whispered. She pulled back a little and looked into his yes. "I know you may not want to hear this but I fear I must say it. I love you, Darian. I love you so much it sometimes overwhelms me." A tear trickled down her cheek and to her relief, Darian did not pull away. Instead, he leaned down to catch the tear against his lips. "I know, Christiana, I know and I…" he stopped and then looked away. "I bid you be safe and stay in doors while I am gone."
Kristy's heart clenched within her chest. Why couldn't he say it? Why couldn't he tell her what she already knew…that he loved her. She might never see him again….but no. She wouldn't dwell on that. He must come back. She had to believe that he would.
He then pulled her roughly to him and kissed her hard on the lips like a desperate man taking his last drink of water. "Goodbye, my love," he said in a gravelly voice and then turned to mount his horse.
At least, that was something.
********************************************************
The day seemed to drag by. Kristy had tried all day to keep herself busy, trying not to think about Darian or what he was doing—and it hadn't worked. She still had that bad feeling and it only increased her nervousness.
After the noon hour, Nan came upon her mistress washing the windows, of all things! "My lady! What are you about? You should not be doing that work. Let me call one of the cleaning servants. She stopped when she saw Kristy's hands shaking as she dipped the rag into the pail of soapy water. "Lady Kristy, why you are a bundle of nerves! What ever is the matter?" the maid asked in a worried voice.
Kristy straightened and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across her brow. "Oh, Nan. I am just frightened for Darian and Sidra, is all. 1 can't seem to get my mind off it."
Nan looked at her with motherly concern and patted her hack. "Ah, milady, 'tis only that you miss your man. Things have been going fine for you, have they not?"
Kristy managed a small smile that didn't quit reach her eyes. None of the servants knew, of 'The Plan'. "Yes, things are going well for us. You're probably right. I'm just missing him, is all."
Why do you not take a walk. The cool air will do you good and perhaps ease your mind," she suggested.
Kristy nodded her head. "Maybe you are right. If you will get me my cloak, I'll do just that."
And it did seem to help some. She had walked through the village and was about to start back when something in the distance caught her eye. It was a flash of light, as if the sun had reflected upon a shiny object. The flash had come from behind a clump of bushes at the edge of the forest that bordered Greystone.
What in the world was it? Then her brow wrinkled in concern. Had one of the children drifted that far out? Then the brows raised back up again. Or was it that little thief, Gilbert, again? The tailor had told her that morning that one of his knifes had went missing recently. The flash would explain it. That little vixen, she thought, a little amused, he has probably got quite a stash out there!
With a heavy sigh she started up the hill towards the forest. She needed to deal with Gilbert once and for all! She wondered what punishment she should deal to him. Cleaning the stables? No, he would like being around the horses. Cleaning the castle floors? No, not that either. He would just try to steal something in there. There had to be something…Ah… She smiled to herse1f. When Darian returned, she would have him polish all that armor and weaponry—under supervision of course. That should deal with the problem quite sufficiently!
She reached the place where she had thought the source of the flash came from. Nothing. She walked around the spot, peering into the bushes and only become more perplexed. Not realizing it, she spoke aloud. "I could have sworn I saw something!" She gave the area one more sweeping glance then shrugged her shoulders and turned to leave.
"The Lady Christiana, I presume?" a deep gravely voice spoke behind her.
Kri3ty gave a quick intake of breath arid swirled around. There before her stood a extravagantly clothed man standing regally upright, one hand on the hilt of his sword. But it was his face that made Kristy grow cold. He had the most evil countenance she had ever come across. He had black curled hair that fell longer than was the fashion, perhaps two or three inches below his shoulders, his eyes black and beady, cold and sinister. A mustache and goatee surrounded a pair of thin evilly smiling lips. It was as if she had come face to face with the devil himself.
She swallowed hard and carefully erased the fear that was beginning to grow within her, from her face. With so much a blink, she looked at him in a very cool, snobbish way and ask, 'And you are, Sir?'
The man gave a stiff how, barely bending, and announced, "Lord Fredrick, my lady," He paused then added, "...of Worthingham."

Chapter 11

Inside Kristy was trembling. What was Worthingham doing here? He was supposed to be following Sidra. Dear Lord! That could only mean…
Outside, she managed to maintain her cool, her eyes remained steady upon his. "It seems that you are trespassing, Lord Worthingham. I shall have to insist that you take your leave."
All she received as an answer was a dastardly, cunning smile. She felt his eyes rake her body, slowly, insultingly. "I did not realize that Darian had married so well. I think you and I could get along quite well together," he said in a slick, smooth voice that gave her chills.
She stepped back instinctively, but urged herself to stay calm and continue playing the naïve medieval girl, "I think this conversation is over. If you'll excuse me…" She turned to go, but she got no further than a few steps when an icy hand gripped her arm.
"I think not, my lady. You see, you must come with me, instead. " He jerk her against him, her back to his leather clad chest. His arm then curled around her neck.
"HeeeeYah!" She yelled and plunged a quick elbow into his gut, grabbed hold of his arm and expertly flipped him gracefully over her shoulder.
"Yes! I'm getting good at this!" she exclaimed and then realized she should be running instead. With one last glimpse of his stunned body writhing about the ground she took off.
Worthingham let go a string of French curses while holding his belly and then yelled into the forest, "Guards! Don't just stay hidden like idiots! GRAB THE WENCH!" He screeched at the top of his lungs.
Kristy threw a glance over her shoulder arid saw three big knights, clothed in black and silver, descending upon her. "No! NO!" She screamed when they tackled her to the ground. Two of the knights grabbed each an arm and hauled her up from the ground. Her braid was coming loose and wisps of hair hung about her face. Her bliant was torn and grass stained.
With out luck, she wrestled against their clutches. Screaming at the top of her lungs. But she knew it was to no avail. She had wondered to far for anyone to hear. Her face was defiant when she, again, faced her enemy. "Darian will kill you, you slimy toad!" she threw at him, voice filled with loathing.
He smiled coldly at her and grabbed her face in a painful grip. "I am amazed that Greystone thought I would not find out what he had planned. Does he think me stupid, my lady!" He now sounded crazed. Kristy realized she was dealing with a mad man. "But I
have once again bested him. I will take his wife. Mayhaps you may even enjoy it! He laughed at that. It was a black laugh. A demon laugh.
She jerked her chin from his grip. "He will come for me. And then he'll cut you up like dog meat."
He laugh once again. "Will he, my fiery lady? My what a vocabulary you possess for a lady!" He laughed again. "Once he reads the message I have sent him, I doubt there will he any gallant rescues." He ran a black gloved finger down her throat and between her breast. But it wasn't just his touch that made her blood grow cold.
Her face paled and she struggled once again against the clutches that held her. "What message? Dear God, what have you done?" she cried.
"Your face, pretty lady, has assured me that I had guessed right in my presumptions of your marital state. You fear that he will believe my word over yours, do you not? Especially when he reads that you have come to me on your own free will, that you have been meeting me in secret for quite sometime now," he goaded. "It is known all over England and abroad of Darian's mistrust of women. Why should a wife, that he was ordered to marry, be any different,"
"He will come for me, you pompous, overbearing, son of a pig. And when he does, it will be my pleasure to see you on your knees begging for mercy." She raked his black form with utter loathing seething in her darkened blue eyes. "It will be my pleasure," she reemphasized smoothly with more confidence than she actually felt.
But the fact was she wasn't confident. In fact she was incredibly scared. What would Darian think of that note? It spoke of betrayal on her part. Would he believe his enemy or have faith in his wife? It was that answer that she feared the most.
Worthingham smiled mockingly at dark haired beauty and found himself wondering about the accent she had just slipped into, unknowingly. But though she was a very desirable woman, it wasn't she that he wanted. He wanted what was promised to him. He wanted the Lady Sidra.
He was no fool. He knew from his source at Greystone that Darian had become enamoured of his wife. Maybe even in love with her. But he was also wary and his note would hurt him. Knock him off his guard. And that's when Fredrick Worthingham would make his move. He would get his bride and destroy the lord of the castle at one time.
He looked at his guard and nodded. "Bind her hands and strap something over that mouth. We ride for Worthingham."
Her hands were painfully bound tightly behind her and a gag stuck in her mouth. They brought horses from the forest and she was hauled up to sit in front of Worthingham. Her skin crawled as she was force to lean against him. His breath on her ear sickened her to the point that she thought she might throw up. And she wanted to cry. Cry for herself, cry for Darian, cry for a love that could soon be lost forever.
Come get me, Darian. Please come get me....
************************************************************ ******************
The carriage bounced along the rough dusty road, creating a very uncomfortable ride for its inhabitants. They had ridden for the better part of the day and were almost to the place where they would make camp. The wind had picked up and the air had grown suddenly cold with the sun now sinking below the horizon.
Sidra huddled under the furs and blankets wishing that they'd soon stop. She was cold, tired and hungry. And on top of that she was tired of the way that wily squire of Darian's kept staring at her. What was he, ten and five? The look of longing was so clearly written upon his face. Sidra almost felt sorry for him. Mayhaps she would talk to Darian and suggest introducing him to one of the castle maids when they returned.
She parted the small curtain and peered out of the carriage ************************************************************ **** She found Tilden riding beside them on his steed. She smiled wistfully at the stunning picture he made, sitting upon that great gray horse, clothed with the Greystone colors and the gold in his hair shimmering against the dimming sunlight. They had barely spoken since that night he had told her of his feelings. They both seemed to be avoiding being alone with one another. It seemed to be the best thing to do, but oh, how she miss being in his company. She even missed their arguments.
"Tilden, are we close to making camp?"
Tilden looked down when he heard the voice that had the unique ability to set his heart apounding. "Aye, my lady. 'Tis only a short distance now," He answered her softly a loving smile playing on his lips. His breath froze like puffs of smoke as he spoke. "Would you be getting tired, Sidra?"
"Yes, I could swear this road to London gets more rugged the more I travel on it!" She complained. Then she queried, "Has there been any sign of Worthingham?"
He smiled at her worried face and assured her. "Nay, but we did not expect him to strike until nightfall." He pulled his horse closer to the carriage. Bending low, he looked at her in such a way that caused her heart to catch in her throat. "But do not worry yourself, my Sidra. There is naught that 1 would allow to happen to you. There is no need to be fearful."
Their eyes held and an unspoken communication passed between them. I love you. he wanted to say. I miss you, she wanted him to know.
With one more smile he straightened and nudged his horse on up ahead and she let the curtain fall and settled back into the carriage.
Tilden rode up ahead to Darian's side. "Your sister is complaining of the roughness of the ride," he told him with a smile in his tone.
Darian sent him a long-suffering look. "Ah! The fate of all men, my dear friend, is for us to put up with the woman's complaints. But the rewards far outweigh the disadvantages!" he chuckled as he spoke.
Tilden raised a mocking eyebrow at the earl. "Am I seeing a change of heart towards the weaker gender, milord? 'Tis only a month ago you would have spat on the ground upon which they walked!" he told him aghast.
Darian laughed at that and nodded towards Tilden, "'Tis true, sir, but I had not known my lady then!" He smiled to himself as he thought of her words of love to him this morning. He wanted to hurry this business with Worthingham along and get back to his wife. One night was too long to be from her side.
"Milord! Milord!" came a loud cry from behind them.
Darian halted his mount and turned to see one of his disguised guards riding up towards them. Behind him he was pulling along another horse. On the horse looked to be a boy of about ten and three years, probably a page. But what caused Darian to straighten with caution, was the colors that he wore.
He wore the colors of Worthingham.
"Milord!" the guard addressed once again as he reached them, his cheeks red from the cold, his breath coming hard. "We found him along the road. He says he bears a message from his liege lord."
Darian eyed the youth coldly, causing the boy to shrink back on his horse. "Were there more riders'?" he questioned to his knight.
"Nay, milord. He rides alone."
"State your name and your business, boy," Darian ordered him.
Fear shown brightly in the young page's eyes. He had not wanted to come on this quest. Darian Maxwell's reputation was not unknown to him and he felt himself frozen with dread. "Kendall of Worthingham, m—milord. Page to...to Lord Frederick of...Worthingham." The youth stammered. He pushed forward a rolled ************************************************************ **** that he had in his hands towards Darian. "I was told to deliver this to...you."
Darian slowly withdrew the paper from the boy's hands and gave him one more icy perusal before opening it.
As he read the words, an incredible pain struck his heart. He felt as though a part of him died at that moment. The other part raged, however. So much that had he had less control he would have killed the boy just for bringing him such a message. His hands gripped the edge of the letter, causing his knuckles to turn white. His jaw twitched, his face that had at first drained of it's color, now glowed red with the outrage that he felt.
With as much calmness as he could muster, he handed the note to Tilden.
Tilden quickly read the message:
To the Earl of Greystone:
Excellent trap you had set for me, my lord earl. I would have fallen for it, too, if it hadn't been for one minor detail you seem to have overlooked.
Your wife. And a very charming lady she is. Talkative, too. You didn't know of course that we had been meeting for sometime, did you? Of course not. You were much to besotted with her to notice. And you thought all this time she was down there with those nasty villagers of yours!
I have her now, Greystone. I've decided I much prefer her to my former betrothed. Even trade, I think.
A warning, Greystone. Don't try any gallant rescues. You could find a wife that has no desire to be rescued! And beside, my guard have been ordered to tire their arrows at any person that even looks like you, around my keep.
You've been bested again, my friend.
Lord Fredrick Worthingham
"My lord, surely you do not believe this!" he asked Darian in an unbelieving voice, waving the note about In the air.
Darian ignored the question and directed his attention to the boy. "Ride back to your lord and assure him that he can keep his prize. 1 will not be coming to claim it."
The youth nodded and quickly rode back the way he came.
"You cannot mean that, milord!" Tilden beseeched him again. "Christiana loves you. Anyone could tell you that."
"Anyone, Tilden? Can anyone tell me where she was every hour of the day? Can you tell me that. Sir knight!" he shouted at him..
"Nay. 1 cannot, but..."
"We ride back to Greystone." he said gravely.
"but Darian..." Tilden tried again.
"We ride!"
Sidra opened the carriage door at the same moment that Darian went galloping past her. She was taken back at the look on his face. It had been hurt. Almost as if he was suffering pain.
She looked back to Tilden, her brows knitted together, concerned. "What has happened?" she asked him in a frightened voice.
Tilden's face was grave as he handed the note to her. "He read this."
"What..." She stood and leaned against the carriage and slowly read the note. "Oh no...." she said in a despairing whisper. Her eyes went hack to Tilden and she shook her head. "He believes Worthington? The man would lie to God himself if he thought it would profit him. How could Darian believe him?" Her voice sounded incredulous, unbelieving.
Tilden sighed and looked off into the distance where Darian had ridden. "He believes, once again, that he has been betrayed. Isabella's infidelity almost killed him. I fear what this will do to him."
"Oh Tilden, you must go and speak with him. I know Kristy. She would never betray him. She loves him!"
"I know that, my Sidra. I will do my best to reason with him, later. Now however we must wait till he returns. I hear he has ordered us to returned tonight. But once he rides awhile and clears his thoughts he will return and then we will make camp as planned. I don't think we have an attack to prepare for on this night, any longer," He dismounted and informed the men that they would wait for their earl to return.
**********************************************************
Worthingham Keep wasn't anything like Greystone. Instead of luxurious splendor, there was only bare, dark coldness. It was probably half the size of Greystone and the village outside the castle walls was poor and dilapidated, many houses badly in need of repair.
Kristy had, upon arrival, been taken to what Worthingham had deemed a 'dungeon'. But to her it looked more like the pit of the earth. It smelt vile and rats scuttled along the damp, stone floor. But the worst thing of all was that it was pitch black. Not one ray of light could be seen within the small cell.
Kristy sat in the far corner shivering not only from the cold, but also from fright. Her arms wrapped tightly around her knees and she buried her head into her soiled skirts.
It was an unbelievable nightmare. Nothing in all her life could have prepared her for what she was now having to face. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see her sister, go back to that nice comfortable apartment of hers. New York seemed like Disneyland compared to this place. She almost wished now that it had been a kidnapper that had taken her away. She might could deal with a twentieth century convict who only wanted her money, instead of a twelfth century mad man who could very well leave her down her in this dungeon to rot.
And the worst of it all, was that Darian probably wouldn't come for her. Not after he read that note of Worthingham's. She had felt ill when he had took great joy in telling her the *******s of his message to Greystone.
On her left side she felt something brush up against her thigh. Out of instinct she reach down to brush it away and met with something small and furry. A cry escaped her as she jerked her hand back and stood up. Tears began to run down her cheeks and she huddled deeper into the cold corner.
"Dear Lord, get me out of here, please!" she prayed through her sobs. Where was Jubal now, when she needed him the most? Surely he could not have lied to her. Surely he did not grant her wish only to have her die a horrid death at the hands of that monster Worthingham.
No matter what happens…believe… Jubal's words came to her once again. Believe. She must believe. She must! Be strong, Kristy! she urged herself. There would be no hope for her if she let herself fall apart.
An hour later the rusty hinges of the cell door creak open. Light flooded the gloomy darkness and while momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness, Kristy could not make out the shadowy figure that entered the room.
"Who...who is it?'' she cried shakingly. Fear seemed to choke her throat as she wrapped her arms protectively about herself. She still stood, afraid to venture unto the floor again, not knowing what she could encounter down there.
A dark laugh came from the person who stood outlined in light in the doorway. He lit a candle that illuminated his dark features. And as her eye began to adjust she realized with mounting dread that the person was Worthingham, himself.
"Adjusting to your surroundings, my dear Christiana?" he taunted cruelly.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice filled with loathing.
He let his seedy gaze slowly rake her body. When they once again lifted he met her eyes, a strange glint burning within them. "What it I told you, that I wanted you?"
Though her face hardened, her lips curled with absolute contempt. "I'd kill myself before I'd let you have me," she assured him,
He laughed. "You shouldn't make promises you cannot keep, my dear." He walked over to her and gripped her face, rubbing a thumb roughly across her lips. He stared down at her as if he was contemplating something. Then he dropped his hand abruptly and took a step back. "Fortunately for you, however, you have been touched by Greystone. I want nothing that he has already used," he snarled and then turned his back arid walked back towards the door.
Kristy's shoulders slumped with relief. So he did not want her. She knew all hopes of reconciling with Darian would be lost if Worthingham decided to take her, He would never believe it would have been rape.
But as she saw him start walking out the door her spirit's plummeted once again. If he wasn't going to rape her, what was he going to do to her? Leave her down in the dungeon indefinitely?
She soon had her answer, however, when Worthingham turned and ordered her, "Come with me. But know this, Christiana, if you even think of trying to escape me. I'll put you right back in here. And the next time, you may never come out." he swore venomously.
She stood there gaping at him, not believing he what she was hearing.
"Come! Unless, of course, you wish to stay," he barked.
She jumped and wasted no more time.
************************************************************ *******
The forest about the campers was quiet. Only the sound of the occasional rustle of the leaves were heard around them. The cold wind pushed it's way through the denseness of the large trees. A small fir burned in the middle of the clearing, the wood that now glowed red cracked and sent a small rain of sparks flying in the darkness.
Darian, Sidra, Tilden and Vachel sat around it's warmness silent, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Each regretting that their plan had failed.
Still staring into the fire. Vachel spoke his thoughts aloud. "There is no doubt that we have traitor in our midst. One of the guard, possibly. There was no one else aware of our plan."
Darian threw a stick angrily into the fire and glared at the knight. "Why is there still a question in your mind. We know who our traitor is. There is no need to pretend otherwise."
Sidra looked at her brother, exasperated. "Darian do not be a fool. It is a trick!"
"Then how, dear sister, did he know of our plan? How did he know that Christiana took walks in the village every day? Can you tell me where she was every minute of the day?" His voice grew louder with each word.
"1 do not know the answer to your questions, brother, but I have no doubt that Kristy did not betray you. She loves you, you cannot forget how she is with you. She practically worships you!" Sidra tried to reason.
"My wife is very convincing at dramatics, I have come to learn." He stared in the fire, all emotion expertly hidden behind a mask of hardness. His voice was flat, devoid of the anguish that he actually felt. No one would know how she hurt him. No one would know that he had fallen in love with her and her betrayal was ripping him apart inside so much that he wished he could die. He ignored the overwhelming desire to mount his horse and go get her away from Worthingham. He ignored the part of him that wanted to believe that the note was a lie and that his wife had indeed been an innocent pawn in Worthingham's scheme. He ignored the voice that spoke from his heart that his wife still loved him.
He ignored all these things because the face of his first wife kept looming before him. Her betrayal kept prodding his mind. Women could not be trusted. None of them. Christiana was no different.
Tears filled Sidra eyes as she saw the callous determination set on her brother's features. Helplessness gripped her heart. "You are not going to go and get her, are you?" she whispered, her eyes searching his.
He locked eyes with her briefly then looked back down. "No."
She leaped up and went over to him, grabbing him by the arm. "Please, Darian. Think for one moment that maybe this has all been a trick. Darian, my Lord, he could kill her."
Her brother answered in stony silence to her plea and Tilden came over and squatted beside Sidra putting a comforting arm about her. "Darian listen to what she is saying. She is still your wife, man!"
His jaw tightened and his eyes closed a moment. A clear struggle was warring between his heart and mind. But he had been hardened too long. Too many hurts now scarred his heart. The pain was too fresh, too familiar.
His eyes opened and without looked at them he spoke to them in such a way that ended all further pleas, "I no longer have a wife."

Chapter 12

Sidra and the two knights watched with dismay as Darian strode off to his tent. The tears began anew with Sidra and with a sob she flew into Tilden's arms.
"Oh, Tilden, we cannot leave her there. There must be something we can do." she whimpered into his shoulder, wetting his tunic.
His arms came around her and he began a soothing motion on her back, fingers lacing through the golden silkiness of her long hair. "I will try, Sidra. But we will have to do it without Darian's knowledge. And it must be known between only us. There still is a traitor among us," he told her against her ear. It was pure agony standing with her like this and not being able to kiss her or touch her like he wanted.
He then remembered Vachel had been with them, but when he turned his head to look, he notice that the knight has discreetly taken his leave. A quick scan of the camp assured him that they were alone. Only the night watchmen stood about, but their eyes were ahead staring down the road.
He drew back and smoothed her hair from her face. "My Lady Sidra, I have missed you this last sennight. I have tried to stay away from you but I can longer hold myself back." His lips descended on hers.
The first touch of his mouth against her lips brought a low groan from her throat and she melted against him, arms tightening, bringing him closer to her.
"Oh Tilden, it was I who was in misery. " she murmured against his lips, after a long moment. "What are we going to do?" She brought a hand up to touch the side of his face, the love clearly shining in her crystal gray eyes.
He grasped her soft hand in his rough callused one. "I do not know. But I will find a way, my lady. That... I will pledge you with all my heart. I will find a way." he whispered insistently. Their lips met once more then they parted before they were found out, retiring to their prospective tents. One last glance into each other's eyes told them that they felt the same feelings. Both of their hearts heavy with despair, for themselves and for Darian and Kristy.
***********************
It had been a full week and Darian had not come. But she really hadn't expected him to. Not after she had heard the message that Darian had relayed to Worthingham's page. And every day that passed, her heart grew bitter. Her pain turned to a dull ache.
The first two days she had tried to reason to herself that Darian had been betrayed before, that maybe it wasn't his fault he was so faithless. But when days three and four passed, she reminded herself that she'd never done not one thing to make him think she was unfaithful. She had given herself and her love completely to him.
And this was the thanks for all that uncompromising love. The more she thought about it——the madder she got. And the madder she got the more she contemplated escape. That seemed like an impossibility considering the sizable guard he had posted about the castle and grounds, but she was determined to find a weakness, a way to escape them and leave her plenty of time to escape before they began to search. It would come. She just hoped it wouldn't come to late.
Everyday Frederick Worthingham never cease to take the opportunity to remind her that he could kill her anytime he felt like it. And he had threatened more than once to throw her to his men and let them have their way with her. She had learned and learned quick to keep her opinions to herself. It was better to seem submissive than to gain his wrath against her.
She still found it odd that Worthingham had not tried to rape her. Often she would turn to find her eyes devouring her as if he wanted take her right on the floor. But always, he would quickly cover his emotions and look away. Apparently his hatred of Darian was greater than his lust for her.
She had a little freedom about the castle though she was never allowed to venture outdoors. Sometimes she felt more like a guest than a prisoner because a maid was given to her to look out for her needs. Meals were taken with the lord of the castle; he wouldn't allow her to take her meals in her chamber.
At those meals, Kristy had tried several times to pry him with questions about what he intended to do with her, but each time he refuse to answer her. Frankly, he chose not to talk to her much at all. He would sit at the other end of the immense table and give her brooding stares. Stares that never cease to bring a ripple of foreboding down her spine.
One mystery had already been cleared up for her, however. It was the reason that Darian and his brother had Sidra's betrothal called off. She wondered how they had found out. Had it been gossip or had they caught him in the act? However, their actions to end the betrothal were a wise move, despite bringing the wrath of Worthingham on their heads.
Kristy didn't know what they called it in the twelfth century but in the twentieth century it was known as 'sadism'. Never had anything so disturbed and sickened her when she had over heard the castle servants speaking of the matter.
He had a chamber in which he would bring young women and do 'unspeakable things to them,' as the maids put it. Kristy could only imagine what really went on.
But now it was day seven. She looked about the dreary bedchamber that had been her sleeping place for the last week. Another day. Another uneventful, dull day. Another day that she would have to face the reality that her husband of only a short time, no longer wanted her.
Gladys, the welsh chambermaid, came creeping into the room carrying fresh linens and water to wash with. She was a shy, skittish young girl. That way, no doubt, from being one of Worthingham's victims. Never once had she looked Kristy directly in the eye, or for even that matter, even spoken more than a few words. Kristy had at first ignored the girl who was probably around seventeen or eighteen. She had been so wrapped up in her bitterness and anger towards Darian and Worthingham that nothing else had mattered. But she thought if she could make a friend, gain an ally, it could profit her when the time come for her to escape.
"Gladys, have you worked for Worthingham long?" she queried in an offhandish way.
The girl looked at her mistress slightly startled that she had been spoken to. "Y—yes, milady. My mum, she worked for the old lord and then for the Lord Frederick until he....well…she became ill and since I was thirteen, he put me to work in her place," she told her, choosing her words carefully.
Kristy eyed her thoughtfully. Until he, what? No doubt his abuse had gone too far. She decided to risk asking a bolder question. "Are you happy working here?"
Gladys dropped her gaze and nervously clinched her hands together. "I got no choice. 'Tis my place in life, I suppose." Her voice sounded lost, without hope.
Kristy went over to the maid and gripped her shoulders lightly, making her look straight at her. "But what if you did. What if I could give you that choice?" her voice held an edge of challenge.
Gladys looked at her mistress blankly; not understanding what she was about. "I—I do not understand..."
"1 am being held prisoner her, Gladys. If you can help me, I may find a way to escape. And when I do I will take you with me. You can work at Greystone and be away from that monster that you work for now!"
Fear crept up into the girl's eyes and a tremble went through her thin body. "Oh no, milady. I cannot. If..if he thought I was trying to escape - he would kill me..." she whimpered. Shaking off Kristy's hands she backed away from her.
But Kristy was quick to reassure her. "No, you don't understand. All you need to do is simply listen and tell me things you hear around the castle. When Lord Worthingham will be away or anything that could help me make my escape!" Kristy was holding out her hand to the girl, her eyes begging her to trust her.
Gladys stood there for a good thirty seconds as she contemplated all that her mistress had told her. She wanted to be free of Worthingham. Only once had he raped her, but she knew her time was soon coming up again. And, by all that is holy, she could not let that happen to her once more. Remembering the feel of Worthingham's sweaty hands on her body helped her to make a decision. Risking death was preferable than waiting for him to take her. It would be worth it.
Quickly she nodded, "I will report to you what I hear, milady." And with that she bowed out of the room, leaving her mistress in a thoughtful pose, her mind already forming a plan.
*****************
Kristy had been wrong. At least, partly wrong. It was true that Darian had not tried to come and get her out of Worthingham's clutches. But that did not mean that he had done nothing. No, he simply could not do it. No matter how bad he hurt, no matter how enraged he was at the mere thought of what she had done, he simply could not forget about her. Couldn't leave her to Worthingham without knowing that she was suffering no ill abuse. .. .or worse.
The moment he got home, he enlisted the help of one of his trusted servants – a man named Wiley that he knew he could trust. One that he also knew was excellent at finding out information. For he had always managed to know everything about everyone at Greystone. Darian had no idea how he accomplished this, he only knew that he did it we1l and that was enough.
The servant, all week long, had been reporting to him on the goings on at the Worthingham. He had infiltrated the castle, posing as a serf and managed to work in the kitchens. Darian knew it had something to do with the French cook that Worthingham had in his employ. Wiley seemed to also have a way with the ladies!
But what the servant had to report only confused the earl.
It seemed that his wife was being treated like a guest of the castle, servants at her disposal, could go where she liked around the castle. But, Wiley noted, she was not allowed outside the castle. Darian supposed THAT was for her protection against him.
The most confusing part, however, was that he had not taken Christiana to his bed. Wiley had been most adamant about that fact. But why? Hadn't that been the whole reason she had betrayed him, because she had been consorting with Worthingham? Why then did he no longer take what she apparently offered freely? It didn't make sense. None of it made sense.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought that maybe it did make sense. That maybe she hadn't betrayed him. Mayhaps... Good God! Was he a fool? Of course, she was a traitor. She was also a liar and a deceiver. He would do only to well to remember that.
But he found himself relieved that she was not sleeping with Worthingham. Relieved that that madman wasn't taken liberties that Darian knew, all too well, that he was capable of. That's why he could not forget about her. Why he could not just leave her to the baron's perverted devices.
And may his soul be damned forever, but he could not get her out of his mind. Aye, she was a betrayer, but he would be run through with a blunt sword before he would let anyone else claim her. She was still his. His property. But no longer would she be his life. Aye, he still intended to take her, but only to beget him a child. After that she would be set up in a manor of one of his other holdings. He wouldn't care if he ever saw her again. Then she could take all the lovers she pleased.
Tilden joined him in the small chamber off the great hall that was used to house the castle and village records that also served as an office of sorts for the current earl. Darian looked up from his desktop and then back down again.
"Have the men been alerted, Tilden?"
"Aye, just a moment ago. They were all completely surprised, so it 'twould seem like our secret was kept well guarded." he informed him promptly.
Darian rose from his chair and nodded curtly. "That is good. We best need to keep out a watchful eye for any that may try to alert Worthingham of our attack." A bitter look crossed his features fleetingly and he reached to pick up the map that he had been studying earlier. "Though, I doubt very much that we have cause to be wary."
"That it may be, my lord. But we must not take any undo chances if the rescue is to be a successful one."
The map was once again put back on the desk with a slam of Darian's hand. "I should not have let you talk me into this. I only hope that you do not get yourself killed in the process." He walked to the long narrow window and threw back the wooden shutter.
Tilden looked at his lord's back and sighed. "She is still your wife and Greystone's countess. 'Twould be a travesty to leave her to your enemy. And you know, as well as I, the king would be most unhappy.
"Our king cares little of the events happening in his native land!" he replied darkly.
"He cares that you beget an heir!"
"Then bring the deceitful wench back, and I will bed her and get her with child. But after that Tilden, she will be sent to Sedgwick and I will hear no more about it! Is that clear?" he roared over his shoulder at the knight.
Darian missed the sad shake of Tilden's head and the pitying look that his knight's eyes held for him. "Aye, that is clear, my lord." He crossed the threshold of the room then paused and asked him softly, "In case that Worthingham is aware of our attack, you will make sure he does not get to Sidra, will you not?"
Darian turned to look at his friend with a curious look about him. "I will guard her with my life, Tilden." he assured with the same softness. And then watched his friend depart.
Looking back to the window he let out a long pent up breath. Tonight his wife would be returned to him. He wanted to be indifferent. He did not want her return to matter to him at all. But he was powerless to stop the onslaught of confusing emotions that were gripping him unmercifully right at the moment. He did not really understand what exactly he felt for her, or what he would do when he saw her. Except, mayhaps, the part of him that seemed to be relaxing, because she was coming home. And that realization only made him angry.
To break with his thoughts, he directed his attention towards the Great Hall. He had to check and make sure his castle guards were ready for an attack and that in case of one, that the enemy could not penetrate their walls.
Finally, his thoughts of Christiana were, if only temporarily, were push to the side.

Chapter 13

Greystone's betrayer had felt a moment of panic at Sir Tilden news of siege. God's truth! But he would not have time to reach Worthingham and tell him to prepare for attack!
He glanced around nervously as the knights and guard donned their armor and sheathed their weapons. Mayhaps if he left now, amongst all this rushed confusion, his absence would go unnoticed. After all, the earl would not be riding with them and it would likely be him that noticed him gone rather than anyone else. Mayhaps. .
"Do you dare dawdle whilst the others prepare for battle?" The barking voice belonging to Sir Vachel commanded from ahead. "Hasten and prepare the shields, or else prepare your self for lashes for your incompetence and laziness."
The Betrayer grimaced as the commanding figure retreated into the crowd of soldiers. There would, now, be no opportunity. Resentment built and festered within him. Informing Fredrick Worthingham would have insured him at least a little gold to warm his pocket! That, added to his other savings would have allowed him to leave this place and survived until he reached the forest beyond his father's keep. There he would join the band of thieves that had so fascinated him as a child. And in doing so, he would bring embarrassment and shame to his father's name. Aye, that day would come, when the old man would regret the beatings he had inflicted on his youngest son, during his drunken tirades of violence, and he would rue the day that during one of those tirades, he had killed his mother.
He picked up the shield that bore the Greystone crest with much animosity and mounted it upon a saddle. Now his dream of revenge would be put on hold. Mayhaps, forever, if they succeeded in doing away with Worthingham. The Betrayer, in his twisted irrational mind, thought to himself that it was all incredibly unfair.
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A quick knock sounded at Kristy's door and a timid voice
called from beyond the thick English oak. "My lady, 'tis I, Gladys."
Kristy opened the door and was instantly concerned at the nervous, excited look that was so evident in her maids face. "Gladys, what is it?"
She didn't come into the room but stayed out in the hallway.
"Milady, I have with me a serf from the kitchens. He says that he is a messenger from Greystone. He begs to have a word with you!" The girl glanced hesitantly to her side and then beside her appeared a young man with dark blond hair, his clothes were brown and woolen, the kind wore by all servants of Worthingham.
"Are you really from Greystone?" Kristy ask the man warily, wondering if this was some sort of trick.
"I am Wiley. I have been personally sent by Lord Greystone, milady." From under the layers of his tunic he pulled out a paper bearing a waxed seal. Kristy reached out for it and found no writing upon it, just the seal bearing the Greystone mark.
Excitement mixed with hope was bubbling up within her belly and she pulled the young man into the room, as well as Gladys. "You have a message?" she asked as soon as the door was soundly shut.
"Aye, milady. Sir Tilden and Sir Vachel are riding here to Worthingham for a surprise attack this night. I have been told to see that you are brought to the kitchens. There, there is a side entrance to the keep. You are to await one of the earl's knights to come for you there," Wiley told her with preciseness. He took his job seriously and would carry out his master's plan to the letter.
The tears of joy that threaten to surface were quickly squelched as she took a few deep breaths to calm herself. "How can I get to the kitchen? I will be noticed!"
Gladys quickly brought forward a bundle of cloth and presented it to her. "These some of my clothes, The tunic has a hood attached to it. You can use it to shield your face."
A thrilled smile spread across her features. She snatched up the clothes and ran to the small antechamber, dark shiny braids of hair flying out from behind her. "I'll be out in two seconds!" she promised with enthusiasm before slamming the door behind her.
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"ATTACK!" The cry sounded from without the castle. The huge double door of the Great Hall were propelled open with a gust of force. Three tall knightly figures rush in, anxiety sullied their faces as they sought their liege lord.
The initial cry had brought Worthingham from his small chamber into the hall. It was inconceivable that they could be caught by a surprise attack! That cursed spy at Greystone would have surely warned him of such a plan, for the baron knew he was so desperate for the money that he would be rewarded for leaking such news! Why had he failed? Once this was over, and he got his hands on that incompetent …
His thoughts came to a halt when he saw the three guards coming towards him. "My Lord! We are under attack!" His captain—of—the—guard announced apprehensively.
Fear and panic gripped Worthingham in the chest. "Greystone?"
"Aye, sir. And I do not know how they managed it, but they have surrounded us on all sides. And you know that it would be an easy feat for them to come over the bailey wall,,,."
"I know that!" he spat angrily. He hated to be reminded of the condition that he had allowed his castle to get in. You will have to make sure that they do not come over it, won't you!"
"Yes, my lord." He turned and left the castle.
A dread was spreading over Worthingham. Without advance warning, his castle, indeed, was not impenetrable. Half his guard were not on duty and would have to be found or awakened. By the time they got to their stations of defense they would, in most probabilities, be too late. Curses on Greystone! He hadn't counted on his nemesis coming for his wife. He had judged him wrongly, indeed! He had thought sure that he would have accepted forgetting about a betraying woman in exchange for his sister. And if he thought he would attack, just to exact revenge, he would have never believed it would be this soon! His lack of foresightedness had left him at a disadvantage. He had already planned to attack Greystone on the morrow.
Worthingham realized that he was one day too late. So bloody close to having what he wanted, and yet so blasted far!
His prisoner's face flashed in his mind at that moment and he let out a loud curse. Good God! He nearly forgot about the wench!
"Dewitt!" he bellowed at the fair-haired guard standing near the keep's doorway. "See that our lovely prisoner is locked soundly in the tower, And let no one - and I mean no one - come near her. Do I make myself clear?"
The young man nodded quickly and squared his shoulders proudly before scattering on up the stairs. This was his first important assignment ever been dealt him, since becoming a knight. He would see his lord made proud of him, he would.
Not two minutes later the same guard came sprinting down the stairway. "Milord! The girl is gone, as well as her maid. I fear she has escaped!"
"Then search the castle!" he grounded out between clenched teeth. "Take whatever guard to help you, just do it!"
The lad looked blankly at his lord for a strained second. "Mi…Milord, every available guard is holding off the enemy. 'Tis only I left," he informed Worthingham hesitantly.
"Then YOU find her, knight! GO!" He was loosing his control. The wench had to have been informed, That bloody well meant that Greystone had been spying on him this whole time! The devil take him! He thought in aggravation. The devil take them ALL!
He stalked to the double doors and opened them to find an attack, worse than he could have ever imagined, raging fiercely before him. Greystone's men had had come over the wall, just as he had feared, and doing a remarkable job at pushing back his men, weakening their defense. An assault of deadly arrows showered like lethal rain around him and one by one he saw his men falling from their blows. More Greystone soldiers scaled over the wall and the flashes of their swords as they slashed the air and meeting with their foe's, streakinglike lightening along the small bailey. Cries of mercy, moans of death, and screams of pain resounded all around him, as if closing in on him, suffocating the very breath from his lungs...
"God, NO! He yelled, pushing shut the castle doors with exceptional force, They were going to destroy him. It was the end. He could feel it - smell it. It was the time when all men must make a decision. To stand and fight, or to tuck tail and run. Fredrick of Worthingham, fourth baron of Worthingham....chose the latter.
Frantically his eyes searched the hall, landing on the door that lead to the kitchens. There was a side entrance to the keep there! Now, armed with a plan of escape he flew to door and upon opening it slowly and carefully found the passage way empty. A few hurried steps and he was inside the kitchen shutting the door firmly behind him.
"My eyes deceive me, else I would not see the mighty Fredrick Worthingham fleeing attack!" a low deadly voice sounded from within the room.
He spun around and found himself face to face with Greystone's captain of the guard, Sir Tilden. Behind the knight was Christiana, clothed in servant's rags as well as two other serfs that escape through the entrance before he could see their faces.
Tilden, without taking his eyes from the baron, pushed Kristy towards the door, "Go, my lady! There is a horse waiting for you outside.
She glance indecisively towards her capture. She wanted to run from this place, but hated leaving Tilden to deal with Worthingham. "But, Tilden…"
"Now, Kristy. Please!" he shouted at her and this time she left without pause.
Hatred burned like brimstone within the baron. His spy had told him of the growing closeness that this knight and his Sidra shared. Fleeing left his mind. Only vengeance coursed through his veins, now. This low-life whoreson meant to take what was rightfully his, and by God, he would fight to the end to see it rectified.
"Is this to be an outright slaughter or will you fight me like a man?" Worthingham sneered in disgust at Tilden,
"Unsheathe your sword, swine, and I will demonstrate just how much man I am." he countered, wearing a confident grin. Knowing this man had been out to harm his beloved only gave him more determination to see to his demise, Running his sword through this devil's heart would only bring him pleasure.
Like quicksilver, the blade slid from its scabbard and met his foe's blade with a reverberating ring of steel clashing.
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On the far side of the bailey, outside the kitchens, Kristy was met by a knight bearing the Greystone colors, leading a black mare in his wake. The battle was still waging but slowing a bit. The Greystone soldiers had nearly secured the whole of Worthingham keep, only a dozen or so of their enemy still fought, but slowly and tiredly. It was apparent that the battle was lost for Worthingham, though his men were reluctant to concede to defeat.
"Mount quickly, my lady. We must get you away from the danger of the arrows. I feel it is safe, here, but cannot be for certain." The knight told her as he helped her mount.
"Gladys, my maid…" she began, concerned about the promise she had made the girl.
"I will bring her also to safety, my lady. Now, stay close beside me. We will cross over where the men have knocked out the wall." He pointed to where the stones of the bailey wall, lay in ruin,
They were nearly to the opening when a biting sting of pain caught her under her shoulder blade, Her body flinched, then a throbbing, hot ache spread from the area of where the sting occurred then to the whole of her back, creeping rapidly around to her chest. Oh, dear Lord! I'Ve been hit! she realized in a moment of horror.
"H—help... .m. .me. ." she whimpered, unable to speak it louder, for the pain was steadily paralyzing her entire body. A numbing sensation crept into her limbs and despite all her best efforts, the reins slid from her fingers. A strangled cry escaped her throat as her body slump onto the horses neck then fell in a unconscientious lump to the cold ground.
"Duncan! The lady!" Wiley cried from behind them,
"Dear God! NO!" The knight bellowed in a moment of panic. He flew from his mount and ran to Lady Kristy's still form. He lowered his ear to her chest and saged in relief to hear the thud of her heartbeat. She was still alive!
It was at that moment that Tilden exited the kitchens. He was breathing heavy and the surface cut on his arm, smarted, the blood from it soaking the cuff of his sleeve. But victory was singing though every pore of his battle weary body. Worthingham was dead, and now his Sidra was safe.
But his elation was short lived when his gaze fell to the lifeless body of his countess laying on the ground, Duncan hovering over her. "What has happen?" he yelled loudly, coming quickly to her side. "Is she…" he hesitated, his voice lowered.
"No. But we have to get the arrow out of her before it poison's her blood."
Tilden grimly nodded. He took his dagger from his belt and then told the still girl in a soft whisper. "Please forgive me, my lady..." With movements as quick as he could manage, he tore away the material surrounding the wound and then, carefully, cut the arrow free, her body jerking from the pain as Duncan held her still. Tilden ripped a long strip of linen from the hem of her under tunic and bound it tightly around her body and over the wound. But it was bleeding badly. Tilden realized if they did not get her Greystone within the next half-hour, she might not make it.
Tilden looked up to the serf, Wiley. "Inform the good people of Worthingham that their liege has fallen to his demise and that the castle and lands has been claimed in the name of Lord Darian Maxwell, Earl of Greystone. And Duncan, " he turned to the young knight, "Tell Vachel to remain and secure the keep. Make sure that we do not have the servants and villians running in fear of what will now happen to them, Tell him to insure them that they will be taken care of."
He lifted the dead weight of an unconscious Kristy in his arms and then mounted his horse placing her before him. "I must hasten to Greystone, ere our lady could die and to inform the earl of our victory." With that he left them. As he increased the speed of his horse and held on fast to his lady's blood soaked body, he began to pray. She could not die, Not when there was so much between she and Darian left unsaid, left unexplained, unforgiven.
"Hold on, my lady. Please, just hold on..."
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Whatever Darian had been prepared for upon his wife's arrival, it was not to see her gravely wounded and deathly pale as his knight carried her in his arms into the Great Hall. At that moment thoughts of her deception and betrayal left his mind. Instead alarm clutched at his heart and it took no more than a heartbeat for him to be before Tilden lifting his limp body into his own arms.
"My God! What happened, Tilden?" As he asked this he bent his head low and felt her faint breath upon his cheek.
"She was struck by a stray arrow, my lord. She has lost much of blood." Tilden's face was almost as pale as Kristy's.
"Worthingham?"
"Dead. Vachel stayed behind to secure the castle and lands."
Darian nodded. "Send for the leech. I will take her to my chamber." He wasted no more time as he turned and left the hail.
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Darian paced the chamber, nervously, stopping every other second to ask the old woman who served as the village medicinal person, how his wife fared. And very other second he received the same unsatisfying answer. "I cannot know yet, milord."
The wound had been carefully stitched together, and a compress made of an herbal paste had been spread over it, then bandaged. But it was no longer the wound that had them worried. It was the fever that burned her body that had them concerned. The old leech had managed to get a hot mixture of her medicinal brew, of God only knew what, down her throat and in her belly. She had told Darian that it was usually effective in breaking a fever.
The leech soon left Darian to attend to her, saying there was naught to do but pray now. He pulled a chair along side of the bed and stared down at the unconscious pale woman whom had caused him so much pain. If she were to die, then he would no longer have to be confronted day after day of her betrayal. He would no longer have to wonder if she would do it again. He would no longer....
A long ragged breath escaped him and his shoulders slumped as he rubbed his hands roughly over his face. If she were to die he would no longer see her beautiful, perfect smile, or the way her eyes lit up at the smallest pleasure dealt her. He would no longer be a party to her cunning wit or hear her strange fascinating tales she would dream up, of what the future held them. He would no longer - he would no longer know the feel of her soft curvy body pressing so willing and passionate against his own, or the feel of her velvety kisses as they drugged him into a passionate stupor beyond anything he had ever experienced.
He loved her. He hated her. But, my God, he did not want her to die. He reached and grasp her hand into his large palm and brought it to his lips. Please God, do not take her from me.
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Sidra stood outside the door of Darian's chamber. She had just been awaken by Tilden and told the news. Worthingham was dead! The words were like a key that unlocked and removed a heavy weight and burden off of her. But then he told her of Kristy. The very thought that her sister—in—law could be dying brought on worry and apprehension. She loved Kristy as if she were her own sister and now she might lose her.... Despairing tears had welled up within her eyes at the thought.
She heard no sounds coming from the chamber, so she opened the door softly and quietly peeking around the door to the bed. But what Sidra saw, caused her mouth to drop open in astonishment.
Her brother was sitting beside Kristy, with her hand in his own. He face was creased with anguish, his eyes shut tightly in pain.
Her first impulse was to run to him and put her arms around him. But she checked herself quickly. Nay, he would not want her to know he grieved over his injured wife. He would not want it known that he cared for her even though he still did not believe her innocence.
She backed out to the room as quietly as she had entered and pulled the door to.
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The tiny click came from the direction of the door and Darian stiffened, waiting for whomever it was to speak. After hearing no other sounds he turned towards the door to find no one there. He frowned and turned back to his wife. He could have sworn he had sensed eye's upon him, and he was rarely wrong about those feelings. He mentally shrugged it off.
He hated these lapses of weakness where Christiana was concerned. He hated that he ached with apprehension over whether she would live or die.
A dark lock of hair lay across her brow and he leaned over and gently brushed it back. Her skin was so hot. Ho caressed her cheek with two fingers. The same cheek that only a few days before had glowed with health, now looked so lifeless.
At that moment, he made the decision to stay be her side until her life no longer hung in the balance. He would care for her wound, and apply the cold compresses to try to reduce her fever. When she would awaken he would then deal with their marriage, but for now he would see her made well.
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Sidra and Tilden sat in each other's arms, in the privacy of the castle gardens. The cold air went unnoticed as the pair created their own kind of warmth when their lips met hungrily in a frenzied state of wanting.
Sidra broke from his lips and planted soft quick kisses all over cheeks, brow and chin. "Oh, Tilden I was so worried that you would not return," she said in between kisses.
He pulled her back from him and gave her injured look. "Did you doubt my abilities, madam?"
She smiled at him and gave him another quick peck on the cheek. "Nay, I did not. But I fear that I will always worry for your safety when you are away from me." She threw her arms around his neck tightly. "Oh, Tilden, let us go away from here, I care not whether we have a proper wedding or whether or not you are titled. I just want us to be together. We can find a friar in some small village and…"
"NO!" he stopped her and pulled her back so he could look into her face. "I would not have us living like vagabonds, seeking work where I may find it, unsure of where our next meal will come from," he told her firmly.
"But I have some money, we can purchase a small manor. I know Darian would not object to our marriage. Mayhaps, would even grant me a large dowry..."
He let her go and jumped up. "My God, Sidra. Leave me my pride. I will not live off the riches of your family! 'Twould bring shame to my name, and that shame would be passed on to our sons.
She stood up on the stone bench so that she was eye level to him. Her eyes were glowing with indignation. "Will you allow your pride to throw away what we share? Because I swear to you, Tilden that I will not go on meeting in secret. I will not disgrace myself by becoming your mistress, just because your pride will not allow you to make your love known for me before God!"
"You will not have to become his mistress." The familiar voice came from beyond the shadows of the garden.
"Darian!" Sidra cried when her brother stepped where she could see him. "Kristy's not..."
He quickly shook his head. "Nay, that impertinent maid of hers, rushed me from the room so that she could dress her into a fresh nightshift." The worry could not be hidden from his features and he felt himself sigh. "She is still no better. I fear for her life." At that admission he not only surprised the couple, he had surprised himself at speaking it aloud.
Sidra jumped down from the bench and went over to him and took his hands into her small ones. "She will live, Darian. Do not give up on that belief."
He nodded distractedly, growing uneasy with the direction of the conversation. Changing the subject he asked, "Now, what was this talk of being Tilden's mistress?" He raised an eyebrow at Tilden over his sister's head.
Sidra let go of his hands and folded her arms about her chest. "You might as well know that, Tilden and I are in love with one another. I want him to marry me, yet he refuses. Its his foolish pride that stands in the way of our happiness." Her chin was thrust up, defying her brother to say aught against their relationship.
He reached over and smoothed his hand down her cheek, affectionately. "If a man's pride is taken away, my sister, then a man can know no happiness," he spoke quietly, his eyes holding the pain from knowing that truth from his own experience.
"Men!" she growled at Darian. Pushing his hand away she walked over to the bench and sat down hard upon it. She refused to look at either one of them.
"Ah, my sister. Do not look so despairing, for I have news that you both will like to hear." he announce, looking quiet please with himself.
A suspicious look crept into Sidra's eyes. "Wait a moment! Why did you not seemed surprised at our relationship?"
He gave her mocking look. "Surely you do not think that I was oblivious to those looks you two kept sending each other. Or those kisses, you thought were shared in private. Give me more credit than that!" he huff indignantly.
Both his friend and his sister grew red faced at that news. "You have something to tell us?" Sidra asked, trying to relieve her embarrassment.
"Yes, it concerns Worthingham keep." Darian began. "Since we were justified in the death of the baron of Worthingham and since he has no living relatives, then the lands fall into my possession. But I will need a vassal to look after it. So that and with the title that I am going to recommend that the king give you for your bravery, I would say that you can marry and have your pride, too."
Tilden stared with unbelief at Darian, then grinned widely. "It would seem so!" he exclaimed slapping his friend on the shoulders, then boldly hugging the man's sister and his future bride.

Chapter 14

Conscienceless slowly began to clear the thick blackness that Kristy had been immersed into off and on for days, now. Strange pieces of memory were floating around in her mind's eye as she struggled to open her eyes. Someone crying around her, the smooth rich voice belonging to her husband speaking softly, calling her name, women's voices conversing around her, a strong large hand holding hers,... it all didn't seemed to make sense. Surely it could not have been Darian who spoke her name so lovingly. It must have been a dream. A beautiful, precious dream.
Her heavy lids finally lifted to find soft morning light drifting in from the bedroom ************************************************************ **** She started to sit up, but then felt a stab of pain from her back, Wincing, she slowly relaxed back against the pillow.
Then she remembered. She had been shot. It couldn't have been a bullet, since they weren't yet invented, so it had to be an arrow. A BIG arrow, from the feel of it.
But despite the pain, she smiled up at the top of the velvet canopy. She was back home. It really did feel like home. Home did not mean a lonely New York apartment anymore, nor did it mean the old farmhouse in Indiana. Home was now this big stone English castle, it was the place where her husband lived. Home was with him. And she never, ever wanted to leave him or it again.
She started when she heard a small snoring sound from the side of her bed. She turned her head on the pillow towards the sound. Letting out a breath, she smiled.
Darian. Her big hulk of a husband, sound asleep in that small cramped chair, His long legs stretched out before him, his arms folded against his large wool covered chest, his handsome head bent awkwardly against the back of the stiff wooden chair.
Maybe she hadn't been dreaming after all. He had obviously been seeing after her while she had been out. Hope began to birth in her heart, Maybe he hadn't believed Worthingham's note.
Then she frowned thoughtfully, while she studied his sleeping features. Why had he taken so long, then? He could not know she wasn't in grave danger around Fredrick Worthingham. And she was positive that he knew of his awful lifestyle. Why had it taken so long?
Slowly stretching out her arm. She could barely touch the dark hand that curled around the chair's wooden arm. Always the ready warrior, Darian jumped out of his chair, at the feel of her touch and grabbed for his sword. The sword that wasn't at the moment hanging ever ready at his side, this time.
She smiled at the fogged, confused expression he briefly wore on his face. "Darian...." she whispered hoarsely, not realizing, till now, that her throat felt like it had been scrapped by sandpaper.
He visibly relaxed and it seemed he breath a sigh of relief when he realized that she had awakened, but she was not sure. "You are awake."
Was that good or bad? she thought to herself. But what had she expected? Tears of joy? "I need…water..." She placed her
hand over her throat and winced.
Darian didn't moved for a moment, as if he couldn't believe that she was actually talking to him. "Oh…Aye, I will get you some." He snapped out of whatever thoughts had had him so transfixed at that moment and turned to a pitcher beside the bed.
He put his arm around her shoulders and gently lifted her up while putting the cup to her lips. After swallowing down a couple of sips she nodded her head and he lowered her back down. He was quick about moving his arm from her. Too, quick. And there was an awkwardness, a strain, between them that had not existed before.
It was, as she had feared from the first. He believed Worthingham's message. He believed she had been unfaithful to him.
She watched him replace the cup back on the small table, then straighten to look down back at her. There would be no guessing at what he was thinking by looking at his face. It was unreadable. A poker face, if she had ever seen one. He just stared. She felt as if he could see straight through to her heart. But, of course, if he could do that, he would see the truth. He would be holding her in his arms, now instead of standing here, fighting with himself over what he thought she did.
"How long have I been out?" she asked finally, trying to break the tension.
"Three nights and two days have past."
"Tilden. Is he alright?" She remembered that she had left him with Worthingham.
A bitter smile curved one side of his mouth. "Aye, Sir Tilden lives. But your Worthingham does not."
At that glorious news Kristy closed her eyes and let out a heavy ragged breath, A tear, stemming from pure joy escaped her lid. He was dead and she was free. Thank God.
But Darian took that tear's meaning for something else.
He clenched his hands at his side as he watched his wife weep over her dead lover. Part of him had hoped that it was not true. Part of him had wanted so desperately to believe that she loved him. That part hoped no longer. Her tears prove her quilt. Swearing softly under his breath he tore his gaze from her face and turned his back on her. He picked up the poker by the hearth and poked absently, blindly at the glowing logs.
He was, though, glad that she would live. The last two days she had teetered on the edge of death, too many times. He had been so afraid that he would lose her. But then again, hadn't he lost her already?
He had no idea what he was going to do about her. He should send her to Sedgewick Manor as soon as she was able travel. He should send her there and never think of her again. He should... He should——but he wouldn't. He didn't understand what kept him from doing it, but he knew he couldn't. Mayhaps he just like to suffer. Mayhaps he was but a fool for keeping her around.
A conspiring smile lit his mouth. Or mayhaps he wanted her to suffer, to pay for being so faithless. Mayhaps he would take up a mistress and put her up in this very castle.
"Darian?" The soft hoarse voice broke through his musings.
His fathomless gaze rested on her once again.
"Thank you for coming for me."
Darian eyes quickly turned dark gray. In three long strides he was beside the bed and glaring angrily down at her. "Thank me? What game do you now play. Christiana? You thank me, yet you weep for your dead lover! Do not take me for a fool, woman," he roared at her. He would like to put his hands around that skinny neck of hers and choke her, he was so mad.
She looked at him aghast. "I was not crying over…"
"Enough! I will not hear your lies!" he loudly interrupted, his hand slashing the air.
"Darian, I am not lying to you. It was Worthinqham who lied to you!" He was beginning to frighten her.
"Then how did he find out about our plan of attack? How could he have known when only a select few of my men and my family knew of it?" His eyes were accusing, his voice, harsh.
Her eyes clouded with tears at his lack of faith, "And you would trust your men over me." she said gravely, then lowered her gaze and looked down at her hands. The hurt that she had carried with her through this whole ordeal came back intensified.
She missed the raw show of emotion that crossed his face when she bent her head. He wanted so bad to take her in his arms and say he believed her. But…it would be a lie, He did not believe her.
He turned from her once again and started pacing the room. "My men have never given me reason to think them traitors."
"And I have?" she cried, bringing her eyes back to him, "I told you that I loved you, Darian."
"Your words mean naught to me, lady. You have tricked me and played me for a fool!"
"I have never lied to you, Darian," she said quietly, her eyes shut wearily. A helplessness was sweeping over her. He wasn't ever going to believe her. He didn't want to believe her.
He was so quiet for a long period of time that curiosity got the better of her and she opened them again. She wasn't surprised to find him looking at her. She was surprised about the look of pain that he managed to hide the moment she looked at him——but not before she had seen it,
"Darian..." She whispered softly, her hand held out to him.
He almost reached out for it. He almost gave into the feelings that her tender voice evoked within him. He almost believed her words, Almost.
"I will tell Sidra that you have awaken." He turned abruptly and fled towards the door, He was a fool to keep her, close to him. A bloody fool.
"Darian, please..." Kristy plead as he reached the door. Tears were coming down her cheeks once again. Tears that Darian didn't look up to see. Without no more than a split—second hesitation, he left the room.
****
The next time she opened her eyes, Sidra sat beside her. "Oh, Kristy! I have been so frightened for you. How do you feel?" she asked as she put a caring hand to Kristy's forehead.
Kristy smiled weakly at her sister—in—law. "As good as
a person can, I suppose, with a hole their back!" she quipped. "Actually I am so relieved that I am back home and this whole terrible ordeal is over."
"No more relieved than I am, I can assure you! I am so glad that that awful man is dead and that you are away from there!" She looked at Kristy with a flash of concern. "He didn't...I mean he..never..hurt you, did he?" she asked hesitantly.
Kristy shook her head, then grimaced as the pain that little movement evoked. "He never touched me. He said he wanted nothing that Greystone had already used. He wanted you. He seemed obsessed with the idea of having you for his wife." She paused, a look of uncertainty about her. "You know that I did not betray my husband, don't you? I could never..."
"I believe you," she assured her placing a hand over Kristy's. "I know how much that you love my brother. I just don't understand..." she stopped, horrified at what she was about to say.
"Understand why Darian does not believe me," she finished dejectedly.
"I'm sorry, Kristy."
Kristy blinked a couple of times to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall again. She focused of the gatherers of the canopy above her. "What can I do to make him believe me, Sidra? How can I make him see that I love him, that I could never want anyone else?"
Sidra squeezed her hand and told her, "That just it Kristy. You must show him your love. Only your love can make him see that he has been wrong. That you are not like Isabella."
She sighed and closed her eyes. "Maybe he'll never believe me. Maybe I'll try to convince Jubal to take me back to my time. It could be the real Christiana could make him happy. It is too obvious that I cannot."
Sidra was strangely quite, so Kristy turned and look at her. Sidra's face was completely pale, her mouth agape, her eyes staring at something beyond Kristy, on the other side of the bed. It looked as if she had seen a ghost.
Quickly (and painfully) she jerked her head around to where Sidra looked, afraid of who or what she would find there. But then she relaxed. It was only Jubal.
"Jubal, I think you have scared my poor sister—in—law to near death with your untimely appearance!" she admonished dryly.
"You...you know...him?" Sidra, still wide—eyed, asked breathlessly.
"Sidra, this is Jubal, my...er...guardian angel."
Jubal nodded her direction. "My child."
"My God...." Sidra murmured faintly. She really hadn't known if she believed the fantastic tale that Kristy had told her of. Part of her did, she supposed. The other part wasn't really sure. "You really are from another time and place!"
"Yes, she is," Jubal answered for her, "I granted her a wish, you see, as well as the real Christiana. She is from a time that is far more advanced than this culture. Their knowledge increases at such a high rate that their books are constantly outdated. But as far as matters of the heart go… things have changed very little," He shook his head sadly and sighed.
The shock was started to ebb and curiosity took over. "Do you grant wishes often?"
He smiled. "All the time. Yet, I must admit this has been, by far, the biggest wish and the most difficult I have ever granted!"
"Impossible would be a more exact word to use," Kristy told him bitterly. "So far, Jubal, I have been rushed through a wedding to a man I've never met, thrust into the possession of Countess for which I am terrible inept. Then I was kidnapped, thrown into a dungeon that was covered with filth and rats, made a prisoner of a sadistic madman while my husband just left me there to rot for a whole week. Now the faithless snake thinks that I betrayed him! Let me assure you, Jubal, this is NOT what I wished for." It was hard to make a point laying flat on one's back.
"It is not over yet, my child." Jubal sat down beside her and patted her arm. As always his touch was strangely comforting.
"To Darian, it is over," she said sadly.
Sidra looked over to Jubal, beseechingly, "Is there nothing you can do?"
Jubal shook his head. "I cannot change what is in someone's head or heart. But you, Kristy, can help him change."
"Oh, Jubal, don't you think I've tried. He cares nothing for me."
"I would not say that, Kristy," Sidra interjected. "My brother was at your side constantly during these last two days. I know he cares for you, it is just that he is afraid."
Kristy's breath caught. "He was with me the whole time?" she ask unbelieving.
Sidra nodded. "He was very frightened that you would die. Nan and Warrick had a hard time getting him to rest."
"I don't understand.." Her brow lowered in confusion.
"He needs time and he needs your love, my child. Only love can make him believe." Jubal stood up after giving her arm another reassuring pat, "Never give up, my child. Never give up." With that, he was gone.
"Sweet Mary!" Sidra swore, wide—eyed once again. "Does he always appear and disappear without so much as a warning?"
Absently Kristy nodded her head. Her thoughts were elsewhere at the moment. She couldn't understand why, if Darian cared so for her while she was ill, why did he leave her in Worthingham's clutches for so long? It did not make sense, at all. She was so deep in her musing that she did not realize that Sidra was still talking to her.
"Kristy. Kristy!"
"What…Oh! I'm sorry Sidra! What were you saying?" she looked at her sister-in-law, feeling a little guilty for ignoring her.
"I said that you will have to help me with my wedding. There is so much to prepare for. The announcements, my dress, the food…"
Kristy interrupted. "Wait a minute! You're getting married? Oh, Sidra I'm so sorry! Who did Darian betroth you to?"
A sheepish smile curved her pretty lips. "I would not feel
so sorry for me, for I am to marry the man I love."
"You mean..."
"Aye. I marry Tilden!" she exclaimed with laughter, seeing Kristy's shocked face.
"But how? I thought…"
"Tilden brought down Worthingham and captured the keep. It is his liege lord's decision to put a vassal in the keep. Darian gave that privilege to Tilden, and the king has given Tilden a barony for his bravery! He is now Lord Tilden!" Sidra beamed proudly.
Kristy clasped Sidra's hand. "That is wonderful. Of course, I will help you prepare. I'm so happy for you two!" I am also extremely jealous! she thought to herself. Well, at least someone in the family could find happiness. Maybe some of that love would rub off her husband.
A week passed and finally Kristy was able to get up out of bed without hurting too terribly bad. The wound was healing nicely. She was still a little stiff and it pained her still with certain movements, but she felt worlds better.
Nan chattered away as she helped Kristy dress. But Kristy heard none of what she was saying. Her thoughts were bordering on the brink of hopelessness. Darian had not come to her room since that first day she had awakened. The small bit of hope that she had harbored over the fact that he had stayed with her while she was fevered was getting smaller by the day. How could she win him with love if she never got to see him?
"Will you be coming down to the hall, milady?" Nan queried as she began to brush out Kristy's long tresses.
"No, not right now. I will take some of that tea of yours. though." Somehow that strange tasting brew of Nan's was starting to grow on her.
After Nan left the room, she took the tea and went to stand by the ************************************************************ **** She pushed the glass pain open and let the cool air wash over her. A clash of ********************************l caught her ear, and she looked below to see the knights sparring against one another, honing their sword skills. But something in their realm begin to catch their attention and slowly they stopped what they were doing and began to look over near the castle wall. Her eyes followed theirs curiously and she frowned at what she saw,
Her husband was sparring against Tilden, but the look on Darian's face and the strength he put behind his blows, it appeared he was doing much more than just practicing. It looked as if he was trying to hurt Tilden.
Tilden met his lord's sword blow by blow and he was starting to get angry. What was eating at him? He had been steadily getting worse as the week progressed. He yelled at his men for no reason, he frightened the servants so much that they were now drawing straws to see who was to be the unlucky one who got to serve him. Good God! His enemy was dead, and yet he took no comfort from it. Instead he acted as if the whole world had suddenly become his enemy.
Finally, Tilden felt his sword being wrench from his grip. The impact from it caused him to stumble backward and fall on his backside. He started to get up and dust himself off when he felt the sharp point of a sword pressed against his throat. He brought his incredulous gaze up to Darian' s.
"What the devil are you trying to do, Darian! Would it ease your torment to run your friend through?" Tilden demanded.
He could see the working of Darian's jaw as he stared down at him. Then with a growl he threw his sword down with a brute force and stomped off towards the keep's doors. Tilden shook his head and stood up as he watched him retreat. He loved him like a brother and wondered helplessly what he could do to ease his pain. At this rate he was going to kill himself. But what could he do?
Then a thought struck him. The traitor. They had never found the real traitor. If he could find the person who was Worthingham's spy, then he could dispel all of Darian's doubts and fears where his wife was concerned. And mayhaps, just mayhaps, their could once again be peace and happiness in the household. Aye, He had to find the traitor.
***
Kristy grip the wood edging of the windowsill as she watched the whole troubling scene below. So the rumors were true. She had overheard the castle servants speaking of their masters foul mood. They had said he stayed angry all the time, exploding over the littlest things. And now she had watch with horror as he nearly killed his best friend.
And it was all because of her. She had to do something. It would cost her pride, but she had to do everything she could to change his mind, to make him believe in her again. He had to be made to see the truth.
But...if he didn't…then she would leave him.
And go back home.
Wherever that was, now.

Chapter 15

The wedding would be in four weeks. Sidra and Kristy sat before the hearth busily embroidering gold thread into the edges of the emerald silk gown that the tiny blond woman would be wearing for the event. Kristy still wasn't an expert at the task, but if she worked a little slow, it would look quite good. The seamstresses within the castle had really outdone themselves with the design of the gown. Kristy had told them of little secrets with tucks and pleats she had seen designers use with their creations and they had applied it to the workings of the tunic and blaint. The effect of it was to accent every curve of her petite body. Tilden would be knocked off his feet, when he saw her join him at the altar!
"'Twill be a double celebration, with our getting married the day before Christmas! I want this to be the most beautiful wedding that England has ever seen!" Sidra exclaimed.
Kristy smiled at her. "Of course it will be the most beautiful. How can it not be? Tilden and you are two of the most beautiful people that I have ever seen!" She watched Sidra blush at the compliment.
"Oh, by the way, how is the renovation of Worthingham castle going? I haven't seen much of Tilden lately." Kristy commented.
A comical pained look wrinkled her features. "It still needs a lot of work, I'm afraid. Tilden has been their everyday trying to bring it back to some semblance of decency." Then she sighed *******ly and smiled. "But I will not care if it's falling all around me. I will be with my Tilden."
Kristy raised a dark brow, as she pushed her needle through the silky material, "You say that now, but after a month or two when you two break out of the honeymoon haze, and you find that you are freezing because of all the cracks in the walls, your hungry because the garden grew up, and your afraid that someone will attack you while your walls are down, THEN you'll care!" Her mock serious face could not stay straight any longer and she burst out laughing, Sidra joining right in with her.
"Your a cynic!" Sidra declared and then immediately wished she'd thought before she spoke when she saw Kristy grow quiet. "Oh, Kristy, I didn't mean.,,"
Kristy made herself smile and gently patted her sister—in— law on the hand. "It's alright. You shouldn't have to watch everything you say just because of what's going on between Darian and I."
They sat in mutual silence for a while, concentrating on their work and Kristy's thoughts caused her to chuckle aloud. She saw Sidra's questioning look and explained, "I was just imagining what your children will look like. In a few years I bet we'll see little gold heads bobbing around everywhere!"
Sidra gasp, "Oh, Kristy! You embarrass me!"
Kristy laughed at her but then suddenly grew quite and thoughtful. "Oh, no..." she mumbled as she started counting on her fingers. Oh, no, no...
Sidra looked at her curiously. "Kristy, for heaven's sake, what is wrong?"
She looked up at her friend. Her face was pale. "I haven't had a period since I've been here."
"A what?"
"A period. You know, my monthly flow." She covered her forehead with her hand. "My God, Sidra! I think I'm pregnant!"
Sidra leaped up and hugged her. "That is marvelous news! Darian will be so pleased!"
"Pleased?" She pulled Sidra back and looked into her face. "Sidra, my husband has not talked to me in two weeks. He doesn't even sleep in the same bed as me."
Sidra sat back down but kept a hold on Kristy's hand. "Kristy, Darian will be overjoyed! Mayhaps this is what he needs, He has been such a grouch, lately. This will pull him out of it, I am sure!
Kristy wasn't convinced, but knew she would have to tell him. She was already about two months along. Another month or two and everyone would figure it out for themselves. Yes, she had to tell him.
"Sidra, I guess I had better let your brother know, and the sooner the better. Have you seen him?" she asked, clearly reluctant to having to do this,
"I saw him go into the study off the hall. Would you like me to go along?"
"No, I had better do it alone." she said with a sigh. She walked across the hall to the narrow door that led to his office. After taking a deep breath she knocked softly.
"Come in. " she heard the voice boom clearly through the thick door. It didn't sound like it was a good time to bother him, But then again, what time was good with him?
She pushed open the door and walked on in. She saw that he had not lifted his head from his work. He didn't know it was she.
"What is it?" he commanded in an impatient tone. A tone that was used with serf and knight alike, and that probably extended to mistrustful wives, too.
"We need to talk, Darian," she said quietly.
His head jerked up, his eyes cold. "What is it?" he repeated. She was right about the tone.
She went and sat down in the chair facing the desk. "Yes, I believe I will have a sit. Thank you, dear husband." He remained remote and silent so she went on. "I believe I have some big news.
"Christiana, I have not time to play word games, so would you please say what you have to say, then leave me,"
She jumped up and glared at him. "Darian, stop it! Stop treating me like I'm the scourge of the earth. I have not spoken with you for two weeks. I know you think I betrayed you, but couldn't we at least be civil?" Her hands were raised, palms upturned.
Darian's jaw clenched visibly. It had been pure hell trying to avoid her these weeks, when what he wanted to do was to crawl back in her bed. He knew he need not deny himself from taking what was his right to take, but he did not trust himself with her, Not yet. Mayhaps not ever.
But now, here she was, looking even more beautiful than ever. Her voice and actions still so innocent and soft. He forced himself to lower his voice this time. "You said you have news?"
Kristy saw that he was making an effort so she sat back down and looked at him steadily. "We're going to have a baby."
A myrade of emotions crossed Darian ' s features before they turned hard once again. "Whose is it?" he asked with dead calm.
"What?" she gasp. "How could you...What do you mean 'Who's is it?'
He stood this time. Leaning over the desk he gripped her arm in a death hold and jerk her up. "Is it mine, or Worthingham's bastard?"
Before he saw it coming, she slapped him across the face with the hand that was free of his grip. "I told you that Fredrick Worthingham lied. You. .you. .CREEP! The only man I have ever been with is YOU!"
He brought her closer to his face, the edge of the desk cutting into her thighs. "Do not ever hit me again, woman, or I will be glad to return like for like!" He released her, pushing her back from him, non-to-gently. She sank back into the chair. "You had better pray that the child is born a female! I'll not have Worhtingham's bastard being heir to Greystone!" On his face was rage, as the words were pushed out through gritted teeth.
She couldn't remember feeling so hurt. She was having his baby. A baby that they had created, together. A baby that she already loved, and he was claiming it as someone else's. Tears, that she was unable to stop, flowed down her satiny cheek. She buried her head down into one of her hands, while the other curled about her waist.
"How could you. How could you deny your own flesh. When this baby was conceived, it was done out of my love for you." Her word's tumbled out in between teary gulps.
He sat back down and rubbed a hand wearily over his forehead. "How can I be sure?" he asked quietly.
She raised her head and looked at him with hurt-filled eyes. "You can be sure by trusting in me. But if that is not good enough you can ask my maid whether I had my monthly flow during your absence. You know as well as I that I did not have it while we were together. That was a whole month. I would have started, sometime during that month if I had not been with child." She looked away from him as she could see that he was mentally counting up the days they were together.
"Worthingham had said you were meeting him, when I thought you were down in the village. " He was still accusing.
She got up from the chair, unable to bear his accusing glare and walked to the small slit of a window, "I wasn't meeting him. I didn't sleep with him, Darian. All the while he had me in his castle, I kept thinking that he might rape me, but he told me he wanted nothing that you had already used," she told him dully, tiredly.
That certainly rang with some truth. His spy had told him that Worthingham had stayed away from her chamber. He could well believe that Worthingham would not have touched anyone he had already taken. The man was mad in his thinking. He sighed and drew a hand through his dark brown locks. Then why would she do it? Why would she betray him? Did he make promises to her that he never intended on keeping? Mayhaps, that was it. Mayhaps, she thought that he would take her as his mistress, only to find out that Worthingham was telling her falsehoods once she had betrayed him and was brought to his castle, In that case, the child was his, It had to be.
He stood and came to stand behind her. "I will accept the child as mine."
"That's big of you," she muttered under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear. "You accept the child, but you won't believe that I am telling you the truth."
"That is all I can give you, now. I told you that I believe the child is mine, that is enough."
"No, that is not enough, Darian. For me that will never be enough," she whispered, the hurt in her voice clearly heard. She turned around to face him. He was standing much closer to her than she had thought. Her eyes met his. "What happens after the child is born."
He studied her dispassionately a few, quite moments. "If he is a boy, then you may do anything you like. I have several keeps that are being cared for by my vassals. You may go to one of them, or you can go to your own lands with your father. I care not." He dropped his gaze from her intense stare. He could not let her see that his words were half—truths.
She wondered why he couldn't look her in the eye. "And if I want to stay here?"
He glanced up at her and then turned and walked back towards the desk. "That is up to you."
It suddenly struck her that she had no idea what rights she had as a mother. Could he take her child from her, where she would never see him again? Could he banish her to some castle, forever? Just as she had in Worthingham's dungeon, she felt herself cold with fear. Fear of the unknown, in this uncivilized world.
"Darian, you wouldn't....you wouldn't take our child from me, would you? I mean...would you send me somewhere and separate me from my own baby?" Her face was a ghostly white, and her hands, clenched tightly in front of her, were trembling as much as her voice.
Darian looked over to her as she spoke and saw that she was worried. He could hear her fear and concern. No. He was a hard man, dealing with many things, but taking a baby away from it's mother, no matter how much he distrusted her, was not something he could do.
But of course, she didn't have to know that, yet.
"When the baby is born, then we shall see what I shall do," was all he said.
She lowered her gaze to her hands and nodded. Tears were forming in her eyes. Tears that she wasn't about to let him see. She picked up her skirt and breezed past him towards the door. She wanted to get away from him, away from this castle, away from this century and their horrid, primitive ways.
But it was very clear that she wasn't going to get what she wanted in this area, either. As she opened the door, his large hand came from over her over her shoulder and shut it back.
"You wanted something else?" she pronounced through gritted teeth, refusing to turn around,
"I'm moving back into my room." He had not until that instance decided that, and without any contemplation or thought, he spoke it.
"Then I'll move out."
He leaned closer to her stiff shoulders and said in her ear, "You will stay."
This time she whirled away to look him in the eye. Indignity replaced the tears. "For what purpose? I'm already expecting your child. Isn't that what you wanted a wife for in the first place?"
"You're my wife. A wife sees to her husbands needs." he said with no trace of emotion. It was if he was merely spouting off facts.
"Do what you did before I was your wife. Find a whore!" She turned back towards the door and tried to open it again, but he wasn't going to allow her to leave, yet.
He leaned dangerously close, almost nuzzling her ear. Just as it always did, his closeness affected her, deeply. Tremors of suppressed desire ran to her very core. It had been so long since she had touched him. So very long since their body's had found sweet oneness with the other. So very, very long....
"Would you really want me to seek another? Would it really matter so little," His voice was low and sensual, his breath hot and alluring.
It was on the tip of her to say 'yes', but she couldn't do it. No matter how much she knew he hated her, she couldn't bear to think that he would sleep with someone else. The only thing he was offering of himself at the moment was his body. Right now, that would have to be enough.
When she didn't answer, he let go a low knowing laugh. "I take it that is a 'no'?" He took his hand off the door and leaned back from her.
"Don't look so smug, husband. Didn't you know that it is dangerous to sleep with the enemy? That is how you see me, isn't it? As the enemy?" She opened the door then paused and looked back at him. "You could discover that maybe I'm not the enemy after all. Then who will you blame for your unhappiness?" The last question was spoken softly, almost with a touch a pity, then she left him and shut the door soundly behind her,
Darian had to stop himself from flinging open the door and hauling her bodily back in the room and punishing her for such impertinence. The saucy wench! The only thing that stopped him had been that a small part of him wondered if she spoke the truth. It could BE dangerous sharing her bed. God's blood! He would have to be bloody careful, else he would find himself falling beneath her spell once again.
*****
News of her delicate state spread quickly thought the castle. The servants, who doted on her every whim anyway, were even more attentive to her. They were all overjoyed that she was carrying Greystone's heir and they wanted her to be as comfortable as possible, not even allowing her to do the smallest task herself,
She walked with Sidra to her chamber and gave a little laugh. "I swear! You would think that I were the only woman alive that has ever gone through this, the way they are all carrying on! I'm not even having morning sickness. As a matter of fact, I've never felt better!"
Sidra smiled as she opened the chamber door and escorted her sister—in—law inside. "They are just excited that a baby will soon be part of the castle, again. And it is rather dangerous to birth a child. They just want you to be safe."
Dangerous? Never had she thought of having a baby as dangerous! Her face paled and she sank down on the edge of the bed. "Dear Lord! Sidra, I had completely forgotten where I was! It is dangerous to have a baby in this time.
Sidra sat down beside her and grasp her hand. "Is it not so where you are from?"
"No. In the twentieth century, when you have a baby you go to a hospital where a doctor delivers your baby. If there are complications, then a cesarean …an operation where they open up your stomach and take the child out, is performed," she explained. She didn't notice the horrified expression that was on Sidra's face as she spoke, but she heard it in her voice.
"They do what?"
Kristy looked up at her and realized what she spoke of was like science fiction to her friend. "We are very advanced in my time. Hardly any women dies in childbirth. It is such a normal thing. Not an event to conjure fear." But as she spoke she realized that she would not have those modern conveniences. She would be having a baby in a medieval land. If the baby happened to be breech, then she would be in trouble. If the slightest problem happened, she just might be fighting for her life. All because she was having a baby! It was an upsetting thought.
She looked up at Sidra with worried eyes. "I'm scared, Sidra."
"Do not be. I shall pray every day for your safety and that of my unborn nephew. God would not bring you here, only to see you die so young. Do like your angel said, sister, do not give up!"
She embraced the girl who was now so much like a sister to her and a little later, watched her leave to retire to her own chamber. She stripped down and donned a robe, then went to the large bowl of warm water that rested on the dressing table and took the linen rag to wash her face. Everything that had happened today seemed to come to the forefront of her thoughts, full force. With a sob, she sank to her knees and let the body shaking tears overtake her. As she cried she felt an intense pain in her chest, almost as if her very heart was trying to break into. She didn't want it to be like this. She wanted her husband to trust her again. She wanted her child to be born in a safe environment, to have excellent medical care at her disposal. But most of all she wanted the pain to stop. She wanted once again to feel happy.
This was how Darian found his wife when he entered the chamber. He immediately became concerned. Was something wrong with the baby?
Quietly he knelt down and smoothed a hand down her back. "Christiana?" he asked hesitantly, unsure of what to do or say.
She felt his gentle touch, and for the moment, forgot that he hated her, forgot that he mistrusted her. When a strangle cry she spoke his name then threw herself into his arms and wept against his chest.
For a stunned second, Darian hesitated, then wrapped his arms around her moving her to sit upon his lap on the floor. "Shhhh." he soothed against her hair. He gently brushed the hair from her face and after a while asked her, "What is wrong, Kristy?"
Her tears were subsiding but her speak was still halted. "I'm..I'm just so..tired..and a little..scared," she confessed,
Darian pulled her back and tilted her face to meet his. "Scared of what?" he asked looked deep into her eyes.
"A lot of things. I'm scared for us, the baby." Her voice was softly anxious, her eyes echoing the same.
Confusion coursed through Darian as he studied his wife's ravaged features. She seemed so lost, so hurt. Was it because of him or her disappointment over Worthingham. He didn't know, but he wished to God that he did. He wished that this whole thing could be put behind them and that they could find happiness as they had before. He wanted to say something, but he had no idea what words he could say.
His wife solved that dilemma. "Darian, tonight could we pretend that this never happened between us? Could we just be two people who need each other and forget everything else? Just for tonight..." Her plea was cut short by his answer. And that answer was evident as his mouth covered hers. Her arms linked around his neck as she pressed into him, craving his closeness, needing his warmth,
He groaned as he felt her surrender and with a reckless impatience, he pulled her up from the floor and carried her to their bed. He laid her down and with agile quickness shed his tunic and hose. He then crawled in beside her and sought her soft lips in a kiss that left them both breathless and wanting.
"I know not what comes over me when I touch you, my lady. What magic do you weave over my mind that I can think of naught but having your beautiful body beneath me," he whispered softly in her ear, his voice filled with unconcealed wonder,
She started to say something, what, she couldn't remember, but stopped when his lips trailed down her throat to the ties of her thin robe. Liquid heat ran through her veins as she arched her back, wanting his kisses to never stop. He paused a moment, having no luck unlacing the ties,
"These ties are a hindrance!" he swore, clearly impatient. Finally, he was able to pull them apart, then removed her gown.
His arm wrapped underneath her and then rolled them both over to where she was on top. His lips moved up to her mouth as his hands caressed her back and buttocks. She raised her hands to lace through his hair and opened her mouth atop his, moving her tongue along his bottom lip. A wondrous passion seized them. It was if they couldn't get enough, couldn't get close enough. .
The air, itself, seem to ignite when at last their bodies met. There was urgency - a built up fervor that overtook them, as it never had before.
After their passion was spent, Darian held her close, despite himself. But he thought himself a fool. A fool to think that he could bed her and still hate her, What had she said before about it being dangerous sleeping with the enemy? She could very well be right for he was hating himself, right now, for his weakness where she was concerned. Good Lord! But she had gotten under his skin! So much so that he realized tonight that his need for her had not been just physically, his need went much deeper than that, Before she had betrayed him he had begun to feel alive again, in her he had found peace and fulfillment. She had brought to the surface all those suppressed dreams and longings that he hadn't thought of since he was a child. Dear God, why did she leave him, why did she run to Worthingham when he had given her everything. And why, oh why, did her treachery hurt him so bad. Indeed, what a fool he was. SHE was playing him for a fool!
In his anger, he lashed out at the object of his annoyance. "Was it me who made your body burn, Christiana, or were you thinking about your friend, Worthingham." he purred coolly in her ear and he felt her body stiffen against him,
His words were meant to hurt and that's just what they accomplished. How dare he! How dare he accuse her of thinking of someone else when it was only he that filled her heart and thoughts. So that's all she was to him. A body. Someone to do a quick roll with but nothing more. She had thought....well, she had thought that maybe he would see how much she loved him, she thought that he would realize that he loved her back, that she could have never betrayed him.
But her unyielding husband wasn't going to allow himself to feel. He ruled himself by his head and never by his heart.
"Darian, how can someone of your obvious intelligence be so utterly STUPID where I am concerned?" she asked, then pushed away from him and rolled over to the other side of the bed, her back to him.
I will not cry. I will NOT cry! she told herself over and over as she huddled beneath the furs. How could one person, hurt another so badly? How could he not see that she loved him more than anything? How could he be so blind?
It took every last drop of willpower from Darian not to reach for her, take her back in his arms, and tell her he was sorry for his rough words. He kept telling himself that it was better this way. She would know that she no longer had the power to hurt him. She would know that he cared nothing for her. She would know that she couldn't just walk back into his life and heart after betraying him with another. She would know that although he made use of her body that emotionally it meant naught.
And she would NEVER know that it was all lies, lies, lies. .

Chapter 16

The next morning, when Kristy awoke to find that she was alone in the great bed, she breathed a sigh of relief. She could only take so much bitterness from Darian and after last night, she really wasn't in the mood to deal with him. If anyone mentioned the Worthingham name to her just once today, she was going to go completely berserk! And as far as Darian was concerned, if he was in a mind to use her body when he was in the mood and the rest of the time treat her like dirt, then he had another thing coming.
After dressing and eating breakfast with Sidra, she decided to venture down to the village. She hadn't been since she'd returned and realized that she had missed seeing and talking with the common people of Greystone
With the threat of Worthingham behind them, Kristy no longer would need an escort to walk with her, so she made her way down the hill to the village below, Once there, the children spotted her right off and ran over to her, their faces eager for a story.
"We have missed ya, milady," a small voice cried, that belonging to a carrot topped little boy of about ten years.
Kristy smiled and ruffled his hair. "Well, I am back! Would you guys like to hear a story?" she asked, her arms spread wide.
"AYE!" the children chorused together as they gathered closer and sat around her.
She sat down on her old log that she always used and had started telling them the story of Snow White, when she was then noticed by a couple of the children's parents.
Her greeting to them died on her lips. "Children! Do not bother our lady. There's work to be done and there is no time to play." A loud voice belonging to one of thc village wives admonished.
Kristy's face showed her puzzlement. "Oh, but I don't...."
None of the villagers would look her in the eye as another interrupted, "We will be getting them out of yer way, milady. " And they pulled the reluctant children up and away from where she stood.
Kristy watched as they left her and she couldn't understand what happened. Before, they hadn't minded. The villagers had even stopped and listened themselves. She walked on and tried to speak with to the others but they only mumbled a few answering words and then excused themselves.
It was all too evident that she was being given a brush off. True, they treated her with respect, but cold respect.
Something was wrong. And she knew exactly what it was. They believed that she had betrayed their lord and they were showing their disapproval.
Fury boiled up within her body. This was all so insane! She had not betrayed anyone. She had been an innocent victim of a madman's schemes. How dare they judge her like that!
With that in mind she went storming back up to the castle. She found Darian in the bailey talking with Sir Will and walked right up to him.
"Can I talk to you for a minute, Darian?" she asked as calmly as she could.
He looked at her with not just a little irritation, as if she was some unwanted aggravation that he wished would just disappear. "Can it wait, Christiana?" he asked harshly.
At his tone Kristy grew embarrassed of his treatment in front of one of his men. She glanced at Sir Will and he lowered his eyes, looking uncomfortable. She looked back up to Darian. "No, it cannot wait," she told him stubbornly, her arms crossed over her chest.
He looked off beyond her and sighed impatiently, then turned to Will and excused himself. Grabbing her arm roughly, he pulled her into the privacy of the herb garden.
"For goodness sakes, Darian!" she cried wrenching her arm from his grasp, then rubbing it's soreness. "Do you have to be so rough?"
He ignored her question. "What did you want?"
She hated his coldness. She hated that his contempt of her hurt so much. She could feel the tears stinging behind her lids and she blinked them back while looking down at her hands.
"Why are they villagers treating me so coldly. I went down there this morning and they wouldn't even allow their children near me." Her voice was low, tired.
He stared down at her dispassionately. Inside, his emotions were at war, once again, as they usually were when she was around him. He looked away. "They are loyal to me, just as they were my father and his father before him. When you betrayed me, you betrayed them also."
She looked back up to him. "I did not betray you, Darian," she defended, exasperated. "Wake up and smell the coffee, for Goodness sakes! Your stubbornness is the problem. You want to believe the worst of me, so therefore you do." She expressed each word with a poke in his chest with her finger.
"Wake up and smell what?" he asked slightly puzzled at her words, But without waiting for an answer he growled as he shook his head and pushed her hand away from his chest. He walked to the bench beside where she stood and stared blindly down at it. He was thoughtful for a few moment and then turned back to her speaking calmly. "I am as tired of this as you are. It only makes it worst when you deny your involvement with Worthingham. If you would just be truthful with me, wife, then mayhaps we can try to come to some sort of truce between us. But I cannot abide by your lies."
She laughed incredulously. "See? That's the whole point, Darian. I am not lying to you. And your crazy if you think I am going to admit to a sin that I, darn well, did not commit!"
His features hardened. "So be it."
"No, Darian, I will not just let it be. I am going to fight and fight till you realize just what the 'truth' is," She walked to him and gripped his arms. "I love you, Darian, and I'm going to tell you that every single day until you start believing it."
Without taking his eyes from hers, he reached up and one at a time removed her hands from his arms. Then, after a slight hesitation, he walked away from her and back towards his men.
She watched his back as he walked away. The thick ebony hair curling around his neck, the definite shape of his muscular frame was evident despite the layers of clothes he wore. His long corded legs taking those lengthy steps were so sure, so in command. Everything about him seemed so confident, as if he thought himself incapable of nothing. But Kristy knew better, for though he seemed so confident, she was sure he was not. Sure, he believed himself nearly invincible in the field of battle or when he was commanding his people, his confidence knew no bounds in that area of his life. But when it got more personal, that's where he was insecure, for Darian felt he was incapable of being loved,
Tears welled up in her eyes as she pictured him as a young boy, trying to vie for his father's attention but receiving none. He didn't know what it was like to have a father take him in his arms and to tell him he loves him, to have him boast of some accomplishment his son had just won. He wanted it, but never received it. And Kristy knew that he never got over it.
"Oh, Darian, will you let me give that love to you, or will you keep rejecting it?" she whispered softly when he was out of hearing range.
The wind blowing through the bailey caused a shiver to go through her. Wrapping her arms tightly around her she went on back into the castle.
Two weeks passed and nothing had really changed. Darian continued to treat her as if she didn't exist, and other than a couple of passionate encounters when he couldn't seem to hold himself from her, he was the same at night. He usually came to bed after she had already gone to sleep, but what he didn't know was that in his sleep he would turn to her and hold her against him so tight that it would often wake her up. Clutching her as if he was afraid to lose her. She doubted that he was aware of what he would do, if he did he would never acknowledge it to her. When she would awaken, he would be gone. Just a dent in the mattress, where he had lain.
Nothing had changed in the village either. The villagers still treated her with cool politeness, but nothing more. The children no longer ran up to her, the women no longer smiled her way, and the men no longer rushed out to show off their new wares. It was getting so tedious with everyone treating her like this, so disheartening. Never would she be treated like this in America just because of a man! People in her time adored her, rushed to buy the magazines on which she was pictured, bought the products which she endorsed. THEY didn't treat her like she suddenly caught a contagious disease!
And she had tried everything to gain their trust again. But unless Darian changed his mind about her, they were going to remain the same. She had also tried everything to change Darian's mind. THAT was about the *****alent of convincing these uncivilized people that the earth was round. Near to impossible! True to her word she had told him everyday that she loved him. Everyday he acted as though he didn't hear her. She would do special things for him, make sure his favorite meals were made, that his clothes were all mended and on and on. But it did no good. Nothing was working. And Kristy found herself growing a little depressed.
Sidra had been her saving grace. She was endlessly encouraging her, trying to keep her spirits up. She simply would not let Kristy give up on her marriage or her husband. And it did keep Kristy's mind occupied as they worked on getting the wedding prepared. It was only a week till the couple would be married and Kristy was so happy that at least somebody around here would be happy.
As she walked down the hill to the village, her thoughts turned to the holidays that they would be celebrating. She smiled when she remembered the Christmases past in Indiana with her parents and sister. They had always, done the season up big. A big dinner, caroling, trimming the tree, exchanging gifts… Kristy sighed and sat near the bottom of the hill, staring out at the village before her.
The thought of having to endure the villager's aloofness to her dispelled her happy thoughts. What was the use of going anyway?
She brought up her knees and rested her chin on them. As her thoughts lingered on the Christmas season, she suddenly was struck with an idea. A Christmas gift! She would have something special made for Darian for Christmas! But what could she get him? What would be the perfect gift for him?
She stood up. Sidra would know. Feeling much better she started to turned and go back up the hill when she heard a scream.
Alerted, she search the around the village with her eyes trying to figure out where the cry came from. She picked up her skirts and ran down to the small village road and that's when she saw a man carrying a limp wet child in his arms, followed by a plump peasant crying relentlessly coming from the direction of the pond.
"What is wrong?" she called out, running out to meet them.
The man was breathing hard and looked scared. "The boy, milady. He fell into the pond." He laid the boy down on the ground and put his head to the lad's heart. Sadly, he shook his head and looked up at the woman, who was evidently the boy's mother.
"NO!" She screamed and fell upon the boy's chest, weeping loudly.
"Wait!" Kristy cried, and pushed the woman back away from him. "I might can help..." She looked over at the man and pleaded. "Please, sir, pull the woman back. I might can save him."
The man looked at her as if she'd lost her mind, but since she was his countess he did her bidding. Quickly, Kristy checked his mouth for foreign objects. Then pushing his head back and grasping his nose, she clasp her mouth to his and blew five short breaths in his mouth, then checked for a response. Nothing. She then pumped five times on his chest and then proceded with three quick breaths and the same amount of pumps to his chest, Over and over she repeated the steps.
She was unaware as she administered CPR to the young boy that she had drawn a curious crowd. A crowd that had no idea what she was doing. Was it some sort of pagan ritual, some thought. Was the Earl's wife mad?
Kristy was about to give up when all the sudden the boy started sputtering, then coughing. Water pumped out of his mouth and she breath a sigh of relief as she rolled him to his side to spit out the water,
An awed hush fell over the crowd as they stared wide—eyed with wonder and disbelief, "It's a miracle!" someone exclaimed in a hoarse voice. "A bloody miracle!"
"My baby, oh, my baby," the boys mother cried and she bent down beside Kristy, picking the boys shoulders up and laying his head in her lap. She smoothed his brow as the lad began to catch his breath. She looked over to Kristy with tear—filled eyes and expressed, "Thank you, milady. You must truly be an angel from heaven, for you've given life back to my son."
Kristy smiled and shook her head. "I just knew what to do, I am just glad I was able to save him,
Darian had heard the scream inside the smith's workshop where he was looking over a new kind of horse shoe that the man had designed for the guard's destriers. He stepped out to see a man lowering a boy to the ground and a woman crying after them. Then he saw his wife pull the woman back from the boy and then bend over him, herself. He couldn't exactly see what it was that she was doing, for her back was to him, but what ever she was doing, it was starting to draw a crowd.
He made his way over, curiously and cautiously, as to not draw attention to himself. He need not to have bothered, for the spectacle that the countess was providing, had their total attention. They would not have noticed if the king himself would have walked in their midst.
Standing at least a head over most of the peasants, he was able to finally see what she was doing. He was unaware that his mouth fell agape or that his brow furrowed with bewilderment.
His wife was breathing into the boy's mouth, for God's sake! Then she pushed on the lad's chest. For what purpose, he knew not. It was obvious the boy must have drowned, he was completely wet and looked completely...well...dead! What in the name of Heaven, was she doing?
He glanced around and realized what a complete fool his wife was making of herself and he was stepping forward to stop her madness, when the most incredible thing occurred. The boy started sputtering up water and coughing.
Darian, paled with unbelief. My God! He froze, He couldn't seemed to do anything but stare with incredulously as the boys mother cradled the lad's head in her arms, then thanked Christiana over and over for what she had done.
One by one the villagers came over to her and bowed with respect and awe, telling her that surely she was blessed of God to have been bestowed such a gift of healing. After awhile she gave up trying to argue about that. They wanted to believe her a miracle worker, and if that would make them start treating her as they had before she had been kidnapped, then so be it!
As they cleared away from her, Darian stayed where he was. The villagers noticed him standing about them as they walked back and nodded to him murmuring their greetings.
When Kristy heard his voice greeting the villagers, she took a deep breath,stood up and then helped the mother get the boy on his feet. From the corner of her eye she noticed his tall frame beside her.
"I suppose you are wondering what it was that I just did?" she asked without turning or looking his direction.
He walked closer to her, coming to her side, "How did you know what to do? Where would you learn such a method?"
She finally turned towards him and look up. "Darian, if I told you, you would not believe me. There are a lot of things that I know that you couldn't even begin to understand."
He looked at her warily. "Since I have known you, Christiana, you have done and said many things that continue to confuse me. Your speech is strange, your mannerisms are unfamiliar. I had learned from the servants that you had known nothing of running an estate, yet your father assured me that you had been thoroughly schooled with such tasks. You can write, and though when you write you spell words strangely. I've seen your numbers that you have scribbled down when looking over the castle accounts and could not figure them out. Your stories amuse us all when you tell us of the future, yet I have the distinct feeling that when you are telling them, you believe every word that you utter. And now I see you give back life to a boy that had been already pronounced dead." He put a couple of fingers underneath her chin and searched her eyes. "Who are you Christiana? Are you a seer? Do you practice witchcraft?"
She slowly moved his hand away from her and look away. "No, I'm not a witch or a seer, Darian. Nor am I an angel from heaven. I am a human just as you are. Red blood flows through these veins. I need air to breath, and food to live." She looked back to him, her face set determinedly. "I also hurt like you, Darian. Especially when accused of something that I had no part in. You see, I am a little different than you. I am from a place that people are innocent until proven guilty. A place where a fair person would give someone else the benefit of the doubt. Especially when they loved that person.
"I do not love you, Christiana!" he grounded out between gritted teeth. His hands were clenched tightly as his side.
"Yes, you do Darian!" she fired back, her blue eyes flashing. "You do love me. You do, Just as I love you." She had grabbed his tunic in both fist, pulling him to her.
"Do not." He tried to pull her hands away, but she clutched it tighter.
"I won't stop, Darian. I will keep on and keep on, till I convince you that I love you and no one else." She went to tip toes and pressed her mouth to his. Her arms wrapped around his neck in a death hold that even Darian was unable to break.
He remained like stone and she pulled back from his mouth. "Don't hold yourself from me. I can feel that you want me." Her eyes were wet with tears as she unashamedly looked at him, pleading with him to surrender. Then she covered her mouth onto his again.
Despite what the world seemed to think, Darian Maxwell was not made of stone. The feel of her body molded against his, the feel of her soft, sweet mouth moving, caressing his own was heating his flesh faster than if he had step directly into a raging fire.
He groaned in defeat and with one hand clutched the back of her head, with the other wrapped around her tightly bringing her even closer (if that was possible) to him. His kiss was rough and demanding, but Kristy met him head on and returned with the same emotion and passion.
His kiss had meant to punish, him or her or both, it didn't matter. But it did not end up that way. It turned into something beautiful and wonderful. What they created, when they touched, was something so rare, that few people ever experienced it.
God, but he wanted her. So much that it defied logic or reason. He supposed that he had felt it the first time he had laid eyes on her in that forest when she was talking to that horse of hers. She had looked at him and for a brief moment he felt a quickening with in his breast. He had dismissed it, but now he understood. He had wanted her even then, before even knowing her. Even though it was him she was fleeing from. He had wanted her, And this obsession that he had with her wasn't going away. It only intensified. She had continually lied to him and evidently had wanted another man. But it did not dampen what he felt for her, Was it love? Surely it could not be that. How could he give his love to one that would throw it back in his face. Surely he could not be that foolish, again. Could he?
He pulled back from her and placed his hands on either side of her face. He saw a tear escape the side of his brilliant blue eyes and he stiffened. Why did she still weep? It didn't make sense. Why had she goaded him into kissing her? Was she using him to try to make herself forget her passion that she held for another?
Doubts, Doubts, Would he forever be plagued with doubts where she was concerned?
He swore and pulled her back from him. Her brow lowered with confusion, "What.,."
"Say no more, Christiana. Just please, say no more." he told her in a weary voice and turned to walk away.
She let out a protesting whimper when she realized he was walking away. Tears that had fallen earlier, because of her profound love that she felt for him, now fell because of her broken heart. For the first time she wanted to give up. For the first time she felt her hopes of being happily married, were utterly hopeless. She simply could take no more rejections. Kristy had reached her limit and for sanity reasons, could go on no longer with these silly hopes of him believing her.
With her mind set, she started back up to the castle, then paused. She suddenly thought of what she would give Darian for Christmas. It would be something that he could keep and remember her by when she was gone.
Because, she was going to go. Hopefully soon.
She all but ran back down to the village and to a tiny hut that sat near the bakery. After a few knocks she was bade to come in and she entered the drafty dwelling.
The pungent smell of oils and paint hit her when she stepped in and nodded to short little old man sitting before a stretched canvass. When he realized just who it was Kristy who had entered his house, he quickly stood up and bowed, "Milady! What can I do for you?" he asked nervously,
She smiled at him, "Please, sit down. I wanted to ask a favor of you."
The man sat back down and his wrinkled face creased even more as he grinned at her. "After seeing the miracle that Milady performed in the village today I would grant you anything."
His praise of her "miracle" made her a little uneasy but she dismissed his words and got to the matter on her mind. "I want you to paint a small picture of me. I wanted to give it to my husband for Christmas."
The old painter's eyebrows shot up. "But that is next week, milady, I'm not sure I can do this!"
She smiled apologetically. "I realize that, but it is really important. Could you do it for me? I would greatly appreciate it," she pleaded.
He thought for a moment. "Aye, a small portrait might not be so difficult to complete within the week." He slapped his knee with his brush, spattering blue paint all over his tunic and hose, "I will do it, milady. It would be my most profound pleasure in putting your image to canvass. But I must warn you, such beauty as you possess is not easily captured on a canvass, but I shall do my best."
"Oh thank you, sir. Thank you so much!" She stayed and worked out the details on when she would sit before him and then left the cottage.
The old man leaned on the entrance of his door and watched her walk towards the castle. He shook his head sadly. The earl, it was well known, no longer cared for his lovely wife. He still believed her to be a traitor to him. He, as well as the entire village, had had their doubts, But after seeing the look in her eyes when she mentioned her husband, he knew that she could never have betrayed him. She was in love with him. But there had also been much sadness there. He would have to be careful not to show that in his painting of her. He wanted to portray her as something different. He wanted Lord Greystone to see happiness and love when he looked at the painting. Aye, that was how his lord should see his beautiful wife."
He sighed and went on back into his cottage and sat back down at his painting. He never would have imaged the old earl's youngest son to be a fool, but if he could not see that his wife loved him, that was exactly what he was…
A fool.

Chapter 17

The night before the wedding, snow fell heavily from the cloudy dark sky. It covered the castle grounds and village with a blanket of smooth whiteness. From atop the second floor of the castle, Kristy let go a dreamy sigh as she looked out on the beauty the snow had created, from her ************************************************************ ****
"Kristy, for Heaven's sake! Shut the bloody window before you freeze us!" Sidra command through chattering teeth, as she sat in a chair in the middle of Kristy's room. The day of her visit to the painter, she had come back and moved her things into another room, Darian had never said a word about it. Darian, from that day, hadn't said a word to her about anything at all. He was still angry with her for betraying him and she was now angry with him for being angry in the first place! Neither one was going to bend, neither willing to cross that line, They were at a complete stalemate.
Reluctantly she reached and closed the ************************************************************ **** "Alright, I just love the snow, though. It reminds me of when I was a child, building snowmen, making snow ice-cream, and all that." She walked to Sidra and started combing though her sister—in—law's golden tresses.
"Snowmen? Snow ice-cream?"
Kristy laughed. "I assure you, you would have enjoyed both!"
Sidra laughed with her, then looked down at her lap. She picked up one of the many torn strips of linen that she was holding. "Are you sure this is going to work?"
"Yeah, just trust me." Kristy took the cloth from her grasp and started winding her hair around the material. "My grandmother said this is what they used to do before perms and hot rollers!" She saw that Sidra had no idea what she was talking about and quickly explained, "That is modern ways of making your hair curly! True, you will look like a rag—a—muffin, when I am through with you tonight, but tomorrow you will have beautiful golden curls all over your pretty head!" she promised as she picked up another strip.
"Will Tilden like this new hair style that you are planning?" she asked warily.
"Tilden will drop his jaw when he sees you, I promise!"
Sidra laughed. "Good!" She let out a sigh, then and confided, " Oh, Kristy, I cannot wait till tomorrow afternoon. Just to think that Tilden will be mine, forever and ever,"
Kristy smiled. "It will come. It may seemed like time will drag, but I can promise it will come just the same,"
A lapse of silence fell upon them as Kristy concentrated on her hairstyling efforts. She accidentally pulled too hard on a stand of Sidra's hair and heard a loud, "Ow!"
"Sorry." She eased her hold and continued to wind the silky blond strand around the folds of the linen,
"Kristy?"
"Hmmm?"
"Can you feel the baby, yet?"
A proud grin curved her lips as she cast an unconscious glance down at her barely swollen belly. "No. Not yet. But my waist is definitely starting to thicken. A few more weeks and the dressmakers will have to start sewing me some new cloths!"
"Speaking of clothes! I cannot wait to put on that glorious silk gown, tomorrow. What did you call those little fasteners you had the smith make?" Sidra queried, tilting her head back?
Kristy nudged her head back forward, "Buttons. But do not let that little secret out. I have probably created some grave historical faux pas by bringing them into existence before their time! True, most buttons in my day were not made of pure silver such as yours, but I'm sure whoever is suppose to invent them in the future would think it was rather remiss of me to beat him to the punch!" She laughed.
"The seamstress managed to hide their appearance quite well, so you mustn't worry." she assured.
A naughty grin lit her features and she pulled Sidra's head back so she could see her face, "It is you who should be worried. Tilden will probably be cursing a blue streak when he can't figure out how to undo those pretty little buttons!" For that indecent remark she received a face full of ripped up rags.
"Kristy Maxwell, have you no shame!" Sidra gasped, coloring a nice shade a red.
Kristy threw the rags back in her lap and laughed. "Sidra Maxwell, you cannot sit there and tell me you have not been thinking alone those very lines! I've seen you two kiss, and those lusty looks that pass between you when you think no one sees!"
Sidra tried to look appalled but couldn't control the smile that trembled behind her lips. "You are scandalous! But you are right. I have been thinking about it!"
Kristy grinned. "You would not be human, if you didn't!"
Sidra hated to ask the next question, but couldn't stop herself. "Kristy, I've noticed that things are worse between you and my brother. Do you…well…still love him?"
Kristy gave a heartfelt sigh as she knotted the last makeshift roller to Sidra's golden head. "Yes, I still love him for all the good it does me," she grumbled. "But I'm realistic, too. Darien refuses to believe me. I cannot live peacefully with him if he thinks me untrustworthy."
"Oh, Kristy. I don't like the sound of this! Your going back aren't you." Sidra accused, coming out of the chair and gripping Kristy's arm.
Kristy couldn't meet her eyes. "Yes. I don't know when I'll see Jubal again. But I'm going to tell him I want to return."
Sidra studied her friend's face. There were circles under her pretty blue eyes and worry lines were etched in her forehead. She threw her arms around her and hugged tight. "I understand. I don't think I could stand my husbands mistrust either. But I will miss you terribly."
Kristy returned her hug. "I will miss you, too. I wish…well I wish that it didn't have to be this way. My baby will never know his father, but he will be assured a safe delivery in a clean hospital. I will tell him only good things about him, how brave and strong he was. And he will grow up to be just like him, but this boy won't have his bitterness. He will know only love and happiness. If I stay here, bitterness and distrust will be all he will know. Our son deserves better." She wasn't really telling all this to Sidra. It was more an attempt to further convince herself that she was doing the right thing.
Sidra pulled away and wiped her wet cheeks. "Have you told Darian?"
She shook her head. "No. But after the wedding I intend to tell him everything about me. Then I'll tell him I'm going back." She made a feeble attempt to smile. "Maybe he will prefer the REAL Christiana."
Sidra gripped Kristy's hand. "He loves YOU, Kristy. " Kristy started to disagree but Sidra stopped her. "No, I know you do not believe that, but I know my brother. I also know that he is stubborn and does not like to admit he is wrong. Despite what you think, Kristy, HE will be deeply grieved that you are leaving. And he will be bloody upset that you are taking with you, his heir!" She said the last part with a slight wince,
Kristy pulled her hands back from Sidra's gentle grasp and walked back over to the ************************************************************ **** "I know that taking his child will hurt him deeply. But neither can I have the child and then leave him. He will be the only thing that I shall have of Darian's and I could never give my own child up. I just couldn't."
"Have you noticed that you have referred to this baby as being a 'he'?" Sidra asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Kristy turned and grinned. "I guess its wishful thinking on my part. I want the baby to be the spitting image of his father. So every time I look at him, I will remember. And I will remember how much I loved Darian and how our son was the product of that love." Her gaze left Sidra's eyes and went upward. All the sudden, she started laughing.
"What...?" Sidra began.
Kristy pointed up to her hair, "You should see yourself!"
Sidra ran to the little mirror above Kristy's dressing table. "Oh my…Good Lord!" She joined in the laughter. "What have you done to me?"
"Tomorrow, after I am finished with you, you will see that it was all worth it!" Kristy assured.
Just then a knock on the door sounded and Nan came breezing into the room. She took a look and Sidra and drew back, putting her hand over her mouth. "Lady Sidra! What have you done to your hair!"
Both the girls crumbled in laughter, again. "I've curled it. Tomorrow she will have a head full of pretty curls!" Kristy explained. Sidra stayed a little longer then went on back to her own chamber.
Nan helped Kristy dress for bed. "Milady?" Nan spoke.
"What, Nan?"
"I hope you do not feel it is improper of me to speak so, but I felt I should tell you how proud I am of you, Ma'am." She sat Kristy in a chair and started braiding her hair.
"Proud of me?"
"Yes, Milady. Since we have been here at Greystone, you have been through a lot, I must say. And you handled everything with a maturity I have never known you to possess. I know it hasn't been easy, with your husband. But instead of fighting with him, like I am sure that you would do in the past, you've shown him an example of unwavering love and tried to be patient with him." Nan voice contained a mixture of pride and approval for Kristy.
Kristy siqned. "All that 'unwavering love' hasn't got me anywhere, Nan. My husband hates me," she said dully.
"Oh, Milady. He will come around. All of us here in the castle know that you were taken by that evil Lord Worthingham by force and not because you wanted to go with him. He will come to believe that, too.
Kristy walked over to her bed and crawled in between the fur and sheets. Nan put a hot brick at the foot of her bed to keep her feet warm and then tucked the covers around her as if she was a child. Old habits, Kristy thought.
She looked up as Nan was headed out of the chamber. "Nan?"
"Yes, Lady Kristy?" Nan had started using her real name, also.
"I guess I'm not the same person that I was before."
"You are the same, milady, only better and more mature." Nan assured and closed the door softly behind her.
"No, Nan, I'm not the same person. But you will have your Christiana, back soon. Real soon." she said to the darkness. Then fell into an restless sleep.
Lord and Lady Thackery exited the exquisitely furnished coach, into the crisp morning air. Aileen Thackery looked about the vast Greystone courtyard and commented, "We must be the first to have arrived."
Byron Thackery stepped up beside his wife and agreed. "Does this make us rather unfashionable, do you think?" he queried, in his deep baritone voice.
Lady Thackery looked up at her graying, but still very handsome husband and answered with a smile, "Nay. After all we are the brides favorite aunt and uncle, are we not! So that makes us 'fashionably' anxious to see the bride!"
He laughed. "Ah, well put, my lady, well put!" He folded her hand about his arm and escorted his wife into the castle.
The servant at the door announced them and a beautiful raven haired woman, draped exquisitely in royal blue silk came up and greeted them.
"You must be Darian and Sidra's aunt and uncle. I am Kristy, Darian's wife." She said with exceeding charm and graciousness, as one would have expected of a countess.
"Ah, Lady Kristy, when we heard that Darian had been ordered to marry by the king, we wondered at what sort of a woman a king would bestow on a man. It seems that our king has extraordinary good taste, for you are, indeed, more beautiful than we had imagined. Darian has been blessed!" Lord Thackery commented smoothly, bending over her hand and kissing it softly.
Lady Thackery smiled at her husbands flowery speech and held her hand out to Kristy when Byron had released it. "My husband's charming flattery is all true. We are very pleased to welcome you into the family. And I insist you call us Aunt Aileen and Uncle Byron.
Kristy returned their smiles, "And you must drop the lady and call me Kristy." She turned to Aileen and asked, "Would you like to go up to see Sidra? She is dressing in her chamber."
Aileen nodded and Kristy took her up the stairs. Byron walked on into the great hall and accepted a mug of ale offered by one of the serving wenches.
"Uncle! It is good to see you!" came a booming voice behind him and Byron knew who it was before having looked around.
"Darien," he returned with a smile when he turned around, and clasp his nephew in a quick, hard embrace. "I just met your very beautiful wife, I wager you do not venture that often from home with that one about!"
The response Byron received confused him. Darien lifted a dark eyebrow and muttered, "Indeed…" Then quickly changed the subject.
Ah! thought Lord Thackery, so all is not well with his nephew and his wife. He had hoped that the woman had broken through Darian's tough exterior and had shown him how to love and trust again. He sighed, half listening to what Darien was saying to him. Would the man ever let his guard down? Would he ever try to overcome the hurt that he had been dealt most of his life? Had he been Byron's son he would have never known such deplorable treatment. He would have known what it was to be loved, Sighing again, he turned his attention to what his nephew was saying, vowing that later he would try to talk to him about it.
As the morning went on, the guest started to arrive and fill the Great Hall at Greystone. They were all dressed expensively in velvets and silks, their personal servants arriving with them, most going on up to the guest wing on the castle and preparing the chambers. The larger chambers would accommodate many, as fur pellets were scattered about the floor. One would accommodate the women, the other, the men.
Kristy had stayed up in Sidra's room, along with Aileen and her ladies maid. And just as Kristy had promised, Sidra had stunning, luscious curls falling to her waist. As she styled it, Kristy wished more than once that she had some gel or hairspray. But she managed without it. She had slipped a circlet of gold around her head and forehead and had trendles of curls spilling over it and draping the side of her face, creating a very provocative and sexy look. The rest she left loose spilling freely about her. The back of the circlet had attached to it a long sheer silk veil that fell down her back, to the floor. Pearls and tiny stones where sewn into it.
The dress was a combination of modern and medieval. While it resembled the tunic and blaints of the century, it was different in cut and style in many ways. The white silk molded like a second skin to Sidra's petite, but curvy figure. The scooping neck exposing her white skin and a little peek of cleavage. A gold belt was set low about her hips, the skirt of the gown spilling in gathers from under it. It was a truely breathtaking creation! And Kristy was sure that her prediction would come true. Tilden WAS going to drop his jaw when he got a look at his bride--to--be!
The maid answered the knock at the door and Kristy was taken back to see Darien enter the room. His gaze first found Kristy, sweeping her figure. For a moment, Kristy thought that she had seen some of the old fire lurking within his eyes but just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished.
His gaze then fell to the stunning woman standing beside her. "Sidra! You look….like an angel!" Darien exclaimed, clearly in awe. "Tilden will be overwhelmed!"
Sidra blushed from his praise. "'Tis Kristy who deserves all the credit. She designed my gown and styled my hair."
He seemed to bristle at the praise to his wife but was polite, anyway. "Your work is to be commended," he complimented her as if he were addressing a stranger, not quite meeting her eyes.
A wry look crossed her features and she replied dryly, "How kind of you to say so." The 'kind' had a noticeably sarcastic edge to it.
Darien chose to ignore it. He picked up his sister's hand and kissed the back of it. Then, after a light hesitation, he folded her into his arms. "I am proud for you, my sister. Tilden is a very lucky man to have you for a wife." His voice was filled with emotion. An emotion the people of who knew him, had rarely been privy to.
"I love you, Darien, and you shall see me often. So much so that you shall wish I would return to my own keep!" she joked with him, helping to lighten the moment.
He laughed as he pulled back from her and wiped at the tear that had trickled down her rosy cheek. "Never. You are welcome here anytime." He took her hand into his and informed her, "Now, I came here to inform you that your bridegroom anxiously awaits with the priest down stairs. Are you ready?"
The excitement flashed in her gray eyes as she quickly nodded her head, "Oh yes! I'm ready."
He laughed at her eagerness and escorted her out of the chamber, followed by Kristy and Lady Aileen.
Tilden did, indeed, drop his jaw when he saw his beautiful betrothed walking toward him in the Great Hall. The ceremony would take place in the hall for the chapel would not accommodate all the guest. The priest stood near the hearth, with his bible open and ready, as Darien handed Sidra over to Tilden.
"You are beautiful, My Sidra," he whispered breathlessly in her ear when he enfolded his hand in hers.
"YOU are beautiful, my Tilden," she returned in the same breathless way that he had used.
Tears rolled down Kristy's face as the enamored couple exchanged their solemn vows before God. She not only cried because of her happiness for her two friends, but also with sadness that her own marriage could not have been so beautiful. Her husband did not look at her with the love that Tilden bestowed upon Sidra. His eyes were forever accusing, forever distrusting. A tremble ran up her spine and before she looked up she knew that her husbands eyes were upon her. She had felt them. Her eyes lifted to his and they held. The air seemed to charge between them, for they were both wishing the same things. And that was that things would be different between them.
Darian thought, if only she hadn't betrayed me.
Sidra thought, if only he would believe me.
Stalemate. Their eyes broke contact and focused back on the couple being wedded. But their minds were on each other and what in the world, were they going to do about it.
Tilden caught his bride in a rapturous kiss that made the old priest blush profusely and the celebrating began.
And for three days the feasting and merrymaking lasted. Kristy was tired beyond belief when at last, most of the guest had departed. The only guest who remained were Darian's aunt and uncle. Sidra and Tilden had long ago departed for their newly refurbish keep.
Kristy and Lady Aileen sat by the hearth talking while Darien and Lord Byron sat at one of the table drinking ale. Byron eyed Darien contemplatively and said softly, "Are you ready to tell me about it?"
Darien lifted his eyes in puzzlement. "Tell you about what, Uncle?"
Byron nodded toward the women. "What is going on with you and your lovely bride over there. And don't tell me 'nothing' because I'm too old and too wise to believe that dribble!"
Darien leaned an elbow on the table and raked a hand over his brow. He spilled the story about the whole Worthingham ordeal. His voice sounded weary and hurt as he spoke. It looked as though Darien had truly given up hope.
"Darien, I have known you for a long time. I've even considered you more like a son to me than a nephew and so please know what I am about to say is because I am concerned for you." He paused and then pushed on. "I knew Fredrick Worthingham very well. The man was a devious, evil person. He would kill his own mother if it would get him what he wanted. He was also extremely clever. Has it ever occurred to you that the man lied about Kristy?"
Darien let out a heavy breath and shut his eyes. 'It has, Uncle, but how did Worthingham find out about my plan if not for her." His voice sounded very tired.
"Are you positive that there could not be another who betrayed you. One of your men, perchance? Think Darien. For what you are throwing away is too important. To end it would be a pity if you are, indeed, mistaken about your wife's loyalty." The last was spoken harshly, like a father to a son, but Byron had to get his message through Darian's thick skull!
"Listen, don't you think I have considered others? My men are loyal to me. There is not one that I cannot trust with my life!" he insisted angrily, his voice raising a little.
Byron looked at him as if he had suddenly grown horns and a tail. "You would trust your men over that sweet, pretty wife of yours?" he asked incredulously.
"That sweet, pretty wife of mine, was meeting Worthingham behind my back when I had thought she was down at the village, conducting her business! She played me for a fool and I'll not forgive her for that." He said scathingly, banging his fist on the table.
"You, Nephew, ARE a fool. She loves you. Only an idiot would be blind to it! And from what I hear she bears your child. Take my advice, Darien, and make things right between the two of you. For if you let things stand the way they are, you could be throwing away the best thing that has ever happen in your life,"
Darien stood up, anger was evident in the way his jaw clenched. "I believe that you have said enough."
Byron stood up, too. His anger matching his nephews. "I don't think so, Darian. You are still being stubborn about this!"
"She's my wife, My affair. And none of your bloody business!" He was yelling so loud, he caught the attention of the women across the hall.
"She wants you to love her, Darian"
"I will NEVER love HER!" He emphasized each word, clearly and loudly.
"DARIAN!" his aunt said in a scolding voice, looking worried at her new niece's stricken features.
The two men turned to the women and saw Kristy put her hand over her mouth and burst into tears. She grabbed up her blue skirts and ran out of the hall, toward the stairs.
Darien swore with a growl and after giving his uncle a murderous look, stormed out of the castle.
Lady Aileen let out a sigh as she walked over to her husband. She petted his back, knowing he was still boiling inside over Darien' s stubbornness. "I suppose we have overstayed our welcome."
"Aye, that we have, dearling," he agreed, noticeably calming. "I just wish… Oh, well. It doesn't matter. The boy never would listen to reason." He shook his head.
Aileen folded her arm within her husband's. "I know. I will say goodbye to Kristy and make sure that she is all right. You will see to the luggage?"
He nodded. "Aye, we will ride as seen as possible." His wife agreed and he watched her walk out of the hall. He started to walk out to the stables to notify his men that they would be leaving.
But before he turned to leave, his eyes landed on the painting above the hearth. He looked up at the old earl, whom he had known well as a boy. "Well, Earl. What are we to do about that grandson of yours, huh? He has your stubbornness! I remember well, once you got something in that thick old head of yours, you would not be talked out of it!" He shook his head sadly. "I only hope that Darian sees the truth before it's too late. I really do." He stared at the painting a minute longer then turned and left.

Chapter 18

Darian stormed from the castle, muttering curses that would have caused his own men to blush. As he trudged along the snow-filled path through the bailey, he cursed even more. Why had the snow not been shoveled away, as he had ordered? It was his fault. That lazy, no good… Where was he?
Darian began to search around the bailey, possibly angrier than he had been for awhile and he wanted to take it out on somebody.
The Betrayer leaned against one of the stable stalls, humming to himself, while devouring a delicious red apple that he had stolen from the castle kitchens. He looked over to the shovel that he had been given this morning with the orders to clear the bailey. He snorted to himself. Clean the bailey? Did that overbearing, snobbish Earl realize just how big the bailey was? Nay, of course not. He just gave the orders and expected his lowly subjects to obey his every command. Well his royal Earl-ness could bloody well wait!
"There you are, you slothful, lazy boy. How dare you disobey my direct orders! Mayhaps you would like to feel a strap across your impudent back."
The betrayer had only to see the black leather boots standing beside him to know who the reprimand had come from and he felt his heart sink to his toes. God's teeth! He was in for it, now! The Betrayer hopped to his feet, his eyes cast downward demurely, the apple quickly discarded under the stall door.
"I…I'm sorry, milord. Please... .I will get to the task this moment. I..."
Darian let out an impatient burst of breath. "Silence. I do not want to hear your apologies, nor your promises. I do want the work done, however, and done now! Do I make myself clear?"
The Betrayer trembled beneath his lord's murderous stare, but breathed a sigh of relief at having gotten off so easily. "Yes, milord. I will get to it right away!" He picked up the shovel and started out the door, when Lord Greystone grabbed his arm.
"Tonight, you will receive four lashes for your disobedience. I will expect you to meet me here within the bailey after the sun has set." Darian commanded, leaving no room for argument.
Dread filled The Betrayer, for he knew what four lashes could do to a man's back. He swallowed and lowered his eyes, for he couldn't let his lord see the hate that had suddenly filled his eyes and his heart. "Y—yes, milord." he mumbled and ran out the door.
The Betrayer attacked the snow as if it was his archenemy and he was intent on destroying him. And the more he shoveled the more his hate grew and festered. The high and mighty Earl of Greystone had constantly thwarted his plans and made his life hell. Because of the death of Worthingham, he no longer could get the money that would see him away from this bloody castle and it's lord.
As he cleared the bailey a plan suddenly came to him. The Earl had money, and he knew exactly where he kept it, for he had seen him once, deposit the rents. There was a locked box within the lord's chamber. There's where the money was kept. There is where his chance lay. If he could get hold of a few gold coins, then he could be gone from this place forever.
A smile curved his lips. He would have to move quickly, before the sun set. Aye, he must keep his eyes open for the best time to sneak up to his chamber.
Feeling much better he attacked the snow with a new vengeance. Now his motivation was not hate, but greed and revenge. Mayhaps he would not only take a few coins, he would take the whole bloody box. Then what would the high and might Earl do then? He laughed aloud. Yes, what would he do then....
After finally assuring Aileen that she would be all right, her new aunt had taken her leave. But Kristy's assurance to her had been false. The moment she knew that Lord and Lady Thackery had left the grounds, she had thrown herself upon her mattress and dissolved into tears once again.
After what seemed like hours, a gentle hand touched her shoulder and as always Kristy knew exactly whose hand it was. She picked up her head and sat up. Pulling the hair away from her face and wiping the tears from her eyes, she tried to calm herself as she whispered five little words.
"1 want to go...home." She raised his red rimmed, devastated eyes to the angel who looked down on her with such compassion. Then she pleaded with him. "Please, Jubal. Let me go home."
The angel sat down on the bed beside her and gathered her into his heavenly arms. She cried into his beautiful white robe until she could cry no more then he just held her, gently stroking her back in a way that a father would comfort a child. Her breath became normal, the hiccups ceased and she finally drew back from him.
"Thank you, Jubal," she told him sincerely. She wasn't going to ask him again about going home. She felt his answer would be no.
Then he surprised her. "You may go home," he stated simply.
Kristy mouth stood agape and her eyes burned with disbelief. "I can really go back?"
"Yes. But let me finish what I have to say." He stood up and looked down at her. "Both you and Christiana will trade back places for two weeks. And in that two weeks you will both make certain of your decisions, whether to stay or go back. At the end of the two weeks, I will return and you will give me your answer."
A determined look came over her features. "I can give you my answer now, Jubal! I...
Jubal held up his hand. "No! Give yourself that time, Kristy. In that time, you can weight your pro's and con's. In that time you will see what is important and what is not. In that time, your answer will come, Kristy. It will come from your heart."
Kristy couldn't argue with his wisdom, so she nodded her head. She would give it two weeks, but she really didn't think that she would change her mind. She had a child to think of now.
She looked up quickly at Jubal. "My baby! Will it be alright?"
He smiled reassuringly at her and patted her hand. "The baby will be fine."
Breathing a sigh of relief she asked. "When do I leave?"
"Tonight. Just as you arrived, you will depart in your sleep. In the morning, when you awaken, you shall be back in your time."
She thought for a minute and stood up beside the angel. "I will tell Darian about me tonight. But I must have something to make him believe me. Jubal is there anyway for you to bring back something from my time? Something that would convince him that I am telling him the truth?"
Jubal placed a finger on his chin in a thoughtful stance. "Hmmm. Was there something you already had in mind?"
She nodded. "Yes. One of my magazine covers. If that won't convince him, nothing will."
Jubal, after a moment's pause, nodded. "It will be done, then." He stepped back from her and explained. "It will take me no more than a few seconds, so stay where you are." In a blink, he was gone and before she could react or move, he was suddenly back with the magazine in hand.
"Man! That was fast!" she said admiration.
He smiled and raised his eyebrows. "We aim to please, milady." Angels, she realized had senses of humor, too. She smiled and took the issue of Vogue from his hands.
"Thank you, Jubal--for everything."
He reached out and squeezed her hand. "I will see you in two weeks." And then he was gone.
Darian galloped through the snowy Greystone lands at top speeds. It had always helped in the past to rid him of his frustrations, but today it wasn't working. He couldn't get his wife's stricken face from his mind.
Sensing his ride tiring, he slowed him down to a trot. As he let out a long pent up breath, the cold air froze it making it look as though he was blowing smoke. His mind was troubled because, for the first time since his wife had left for Worthingham, he began to have serious doubts of her betrayal. Mayhaps it had been his uncle's words or maybe it had been Christiana's face at hearing his cruel declaration. Which ever, he only knew he could deny his feelings for her no longer.
He loved her. Not just physically, though just to look at her beautiful body could make him ache. No, his love for her ran deep. Incredibly deep. He loved to hold her, He love to be her protector. He loved to hear her laugh with him. He loved to hear her talk to him. She was so different from any other woman in his life, even Isabella. His First wife had been shallow, she always wanted something from him. But not so with his Kristy. She just seemed to want him--and he had denied her of him for so long.
And it something that was difficult for him to admit even to himself but he NEEDED her. He needed her love, he need her strength. He needed her joy and happiness. He needed her, for through her, he could finally heal. Heal from the pain and hurt that he'd known all his life.
What worried him, now, was that he knew that she had given up. Everyday that she had told him that she loved him, she had pulled him in a little more and a little more, but in his stubbornness he hadn't let her see it. No, the fool that he was, he kept pushing her away and treating her with contempt.
Then it had stopped. She even quit looking at him and had moved from their chamber. He'd done nothing to stop her. He felt the pain of his love for her rip through his heart, and he closed his eyes tightly. My God, was it too late? Had she truly given up or could he reach her? Would she believe him if he told her that he was sorry? That he loved her passed all understanding, passed all comprehension? That if she were to leave him, he would die inside?
An urgency rose up within him and he spurred his horse forward, toward the castle. He would make things right, today. And he vowed to continue making it up to her for the rest of his life.
When he arrived back at the castle, he noticed a commotion going on within the Hall. Vachel had someone by the arm pulling him out into the bailey. Darian quickly dismounted and charged through the door.
"What is amiss?" he demanded.
Vachel pulled the youth forward until he was standing beside him. "He was caught going through your chambers, Milord."
Darian' s nostrils flared with rage. He hated being crossed and especially by his own squire. "Percy! By God! What do you have to say for yourself?"
Percy, past thinking rationally because of his intense hatred, sneered at Darian. "I was going to take your bloody money, Lord High and Mighty. You rich lords are all alike. Just like my father. You think that you can rule everyone and everybody, but you will not rule me! You think that you can hurt and kill people whenever the feeling moves you. I tell you that I am sick of it. Do you hear, SICK!" The boy was screaming by the end of his speech.
Darian felt the anger run out of him as he look at the crazed look within the boys eyes. The boy was not well, that much was obvious.
Vachel spoke up, "Do you want him hanged, milord?" The penalty for betrayal, by one of the lord's men, was always death.
Vachel was surprised with Darian's reply. "Nay. I will send him back to his father.
"No!" Percy screamed. "Please, kill me but do not send my back to him!"
Darian looked past the boy and nodded grimly to Vachel. "Make preparation to send him back."
The whole of the castle came into the hall as they dragged the screaming squire out into the cold air. Darian ran a hand wearily through his hair and started up the stairs, but was stopped when one of the castle maids stepped in his path.
He looked impatient at the wench who seemed to tremble at being so near to him. "Yes?" he fairly hollered at her. He didn't have time to contend with a shy trembling serf when he needed talk to his wife.
Gladys nearly changed her mind about saying anything to the earl when he yelled at her. Goodness! He was a frightening man. But then she found strength when she knew that what she had to say would help her beloved Lady Kristy. "Milord might I have a word with you?" she said with more bravado that she actually felt.
"Yes, yes, what is it?"
"I know who betrayed you to Lord Worthingham, milord."
The impatient look fled his features, He grabbed her by the arm and demand. "Who is it? And how do you know?"
Gladys started stuttering again. She wished that he wouldn't hold her arm so tight. "I came from Worthingham the night that your men came for Lady Kristy. She had asked me to look and see if I saw anything suspicious, so I did. My lord, I have seen your squire at Worthingham castle, a couple of times. There was money exchanged between, and then I heard your squire telling Worthingham information about Greystone. I never knew who the boy was before so I have kept silent. But I now know who he is. My lord, it was the young page."
Darian let out a breath and let go of the girl's arm. "Thank you. You do not know…I thank you." He practically pushed the small woman out of the way, as he took the stairs two at a time to get to his wife's chamber.
She didn't betray him! By God, he had indeed been a 'fool! He had come to the same conclusion before the girl had told him anything, but it was, indeed, good to hear that he was truly right about his wife.
He started to burst through her door, for his impatience to tell her of his love was fairly begging to burst from his lips and heart. But common sense told him he had better knock. So he did.
He heard her faint voice from the other side of the thick wood, bidding him to enter. With a smile he opened the door and entered the chamber.
He rushed toward her. "Christiana, I have something to say to you….he began, but she stopped him by holding out her hand.
"Wait. I know what you are about to say, Darian, but you can save it. I heard," she told him dully, the fire and life seemed to be drained from her eyes.
His eyes showed his puzzlement. "Heard?"
She turned from him and walked over to ************************************************************ **** "I was at the top of the stairs when Gladys told you."
He came up behind her and started to put his arms around her, but she spun around and the look in her eyes stopped him cold. "Kristy, what the wench said mattered not to me. I had already…"
"Already what, Darian? Come to that same conclusion? How convenient for you! Why is it that same conclusion didn't come yesterday or the day before, then maybe I could believe you!" She yelled at him.
He stood facing her completely taken back at her coldness. "Kristy, you must listen to me...."
She brushed passed him and bent to pick up something from the bed. Her voice was a deadly calm. It was like it was someone else talking instead of his wife. "No, Darian, you must listen to me. I think you had better sit down, for what I'm going to tell you will come as a shock."
He looked at her stiff back, then walked around her and sat before her on the bed. Looking up at her, he asked softly, "What is it, Christiana. What could you possible say that could shock me?"
She smiled bitterly and shook her head. "Well, for starters, I am not Christiana." She saw that he was looking at her as though she had suddenly lost her mind. And decided on a different approach.
"Remember when you first saw me in the forest? And I told you that I was from another time and place, that the real Christiana and I had been switched?" She saw him slowly shaking his head, not really understanding her. "I was telling the truth." With that statement she unrolled the magazine that she had had tucked under her arm and tossed it on his lap.
What could only be described as pure shock was written on every part of his body. He reached down and smoothed back the cover page, his eyes widening when he saw her likeness draped in a skin tight sequined dress that exposed an indecent amount of cleavage. Her lips were painted red. Heavy eyeliner graced her top eyelids and her hair fell in a S-curve down the side of her face. The whole effect gave her a 'forties' glamour look, but Darian wouldn't realize that.
He looked back up to her, it took him a while to regain his voice. "What is this?" he whispered breathlessly as though he really and truly did not want to know the truth-- afraid of what that truth would be.
"It's a book, of sorts, called a magazine. If you will look at the date in the corner, you will see that it is dated, February 1, 1998. Darian, I am from the future." She held her breath, unsure of what his reaction to all this would be.
His reaction was to deny it all. "No! I cannot accept that. That is impossible." He threw the magazine on the bed beside him as if it were poison. He stood and grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Where did you have that made? Who can do such things with paper?" he demanded roughly, desperately. He could not accept this, he could not accept any of this!
"Stop it, Darian!" She cried struggling against his hold and finally breaking free. With a force that even she didn't think she possessed she pushed him back down on the bed and took his face into her hands. "Listen, Darian. My God, you must listen!" Tears began to roll down her face, tears that she could not control.
His breath was coming fast and ragged, his eyes for once were not hard, but were expressing his anguish. He covered her hands with his own. "No, Kristy, no…" He reached out with one hand and brought her face to his. His lips met her roughly and demanding. He did not know whether he was trying to convince her or himself that her words were lies, but whichever, he didn't want to face them.
Kristy did not hesitate to respond to his kiss. She loved him. Yet, tonight she would have to leave him. Forever.
So she let him pull her into his lap. She let him enfold her into his strong arms. She let him hold her to him, even though he held so tight that she felt like she would break.
"No, Kristy." she heard him whisper against her ear.
She knew that she must make him see the truth. She had to tell him everything. It would be the hardest thing she ever had to do.
She pulled away from him and off his lap. She sat on the side of him, not meeting his eyes, but staring ahead, blindly at the window as she let herself go back to that fateful night three months ago, when she had made that wish.
Darian remained quiet, staring intently at her as she recounted the story from start to finish, though leaving out the part of Jubal's last visit. But she knew she'd have to tell him that part, too.
When she was finished, he was silent for a few moments, then gently hooked a finger under her chin and turned her face to his. He searched her face and eyes and didn't like the answer he found there. "You are telling me the truth,"
"Yes.
He absently caressed her cheek as he continued to study her. "It matters not," he said firmly.
But she argued, "But I am not who you thought I was."
"You are exactly who I think you are. You are my wife. A wife that I have treated abominably, and for which I am deeply sorry. I did not know the real Christiana. It was you who I am married. It is you who sets my blood on fire with wanting when I look at you." As if to demonstrate, his lips locked on her own in a passionate kiss that left both of them breathless. "I care nothing for the real Christiana, I do care for you."
At his words she pushed away from him. "No!" she cried as she stood up and away from him. She could deal with his wanting her, she couldn't deal with his caring for her. Not now.
He understood. For weeks he had been treating her as if she didn't exist-- treating her horribly when he did speak to her. Of course, she wouldn't believe that he cared. He reached over and retrieved the discarded book that she had called a 'magazine' and opened it's pages.
His pulse raced at he looked at the glossy pages bearing pictures of objects that were completely foreign to him. It was like looking at something you knew you were not suppose to see, knowing about something that you had no business knowing. He couldn't look anymore so he slowly closed it and looked at the image of his wife dressed in a way he could have never imagined.
"When you said that the earth was round, you were not jesting, were you." It was a statement rather than a question. As though he was trying to make himself understand.
"No, I wasn't jesting." She leaned against the colorful tapestry on the wall.
"You are not from England?"
"No. I am from a country that won't be discovered until the year 1492. It's called the United States of America. In the eight hundred years that will pass from this time 'til 1998, civilization will change drastically. Did you know that a men will actually fly to the moon and walk on it?" She laughed to herself. "We travel in horseless carriages, fly through the air in big winged contraptions called airplanes and our houses are lit with candles that don't need a flame."
She could tell that he was trying to comprehend in his sharp mind everything that she was telling him and when he opened his mouth to ask about 'horseless carriages' she stopped him. "It's probably better that you do not know," she told him. She didn't think it was wise giving someone a glimpse into the future. Life in this century was hard enough as it was. He should worry about something that he was likely to never see.
"You said that Christiana had wished to be someone else. Was it because of her betrothal to me that she made this wish?" Darian asked.
She gave him an apologetic smile and nodded her head. "Yeah. According to the servants, she was terrified of you. I can't imagine why," she said the last sentence with a dry tone that him wince.
His next question was spoken softly, she could her his concern. "Why did you wish to leave? You told me that you made the wish, but you never told me why."
She looked over to him and then dropped her eyes to the floor. "I was hurt because the man that I had been dating, became engaged to someone else. I was tired of being alone. I wanted a husband and a house to take care of. I was tired of my career, and I only wanted to be a regular housewife." She couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it and when she looked at him, he was smiling, too. "I guess I got more that I bargained for. Never did I imagine myself becoming a countess, of all things! Some housewife, huh?"
He laughed this time, "You have taken care of my 'house' excellently!" he praised with admiration ringing through his deep voice.
"Well, I will admit I did not do too badly," she agreed, quite smugly.
He looked pointedly at the cover of the magazine and asked, "This was your work?"
She nodded. "They call these images, pictures. A small machine captures your image within it and some how or other it creates a full color exact image of the subject that you are taking the picture of. I did not make the pictures. All I did was pose for them." she tried to explain as simply as she could.
His brows rose skeptically, however. "That was your job? Posing for….pictures? And they paid you money for this?"
"Yes," she retorted defensively. "Matter of fact, I made a LOT of money. My face could be noticed all around the world...in 1990's that is. I am probably as famous a model as you are a warrior!"
He burst out laughing. "I believe you, my lady. 'Tis not hard to imagine that your beauty could be worth a fortune." As he said the last he came before her, where she leaned against the wall and place a hand on either side of her head, blocking her in. "Because you, my Kristy from the future, are worth everything to me."
Oh, great! she cried inwardly. Did he have to say that? "Dan..." Her protest was smothered by his assault on her mouth. She place her hands on his hard chest to push him back, but when she felt his glowing warmth through the thin linen tunic he wore, her push became a caress. His mouth slide provocatively against hers, drawing her in, making her senseless with wanting him. Her arms slide around his neck and he jerked her to him so her body was pressed, hard to his. His hand stroked her back and moved greedily down her back, pulling her even closer.
"You are mine, Kristy. Mine." he insisted roughly against her lips as he started backing them up, towards the bed. The fog of passion began to clear when she heard his words and realized his intention. And as much as she wanted to make love to him, she knew she must tell him the rest.
She must tell him that … she was leaving him.

Chapter 19

"Darian, wait!" she cried weakly and tried to pull back from him. She must think! She MUST think!
"No, my Kristy. There has been too much waiting. Now we love. Show me your love me, Kristy," he groaned as his lips touched hers.
The moment their mouths melted together, Kristy's protest died a quick death. And with a groan of surrender, gave herself fully over to him, holding back nothing, knowing that this was to be their last time together. Knowing that she'd never feel his body next to her own. She kissed him with an unbridled urgency, a frenzied impatience to make love to him and make this night last as long as she could.
Darian was, at first, taken back by the fervor by which she kissed him. Then, thinking he knew her reasons, gave a throaty chuckle. "I am just as impatient to bed you, my lady, for it has been a long time. But I will not have it over and done with before I have the chance to touch you like I want to, to taste you as I have hungered to do, and to love you like you deserve to be loved." He bent to take her lips in a slow sensual kiss then drew back and smiled, touching her lovingly on her cheek with a gentle finger. "We have all night, my Kristy. Nay, we have a lifetime."
He smothered the protest that were springing to her lips, and pulled them both down upon the bed. He tightened his hold on her, rolled her over till she lay beneath him. As his mouth wrecked havoc to her senses, she then lost any and every coherent thought that she had had.
As usual he intoxicated her, filling her with a craving to have more. But, this time, there was a difference. It wasn't that he was doing anything different, it was more like a feeling coming from him…something deep, something significant.
It felt amazingly like…love
Now, undoubtedly, she was hallucinating. It was true that he had said that he cared for her and that she was important to him, but he had never said those three little words that all woman must hear.
He had never said, "I love you."
He may not love her, but tonight—— right now, she could believe that he did, because despite her resolution to leave him, she still loved him. Thoroughly, passionately, completely.
Darian drew in a deep breath as her pulled the ties loose at her neck and pushed back the soft fabric. For truth, she was beautiful …and dear God, how he loved her.
"You once said that you loved me, Kristy. Do you still?" He asked in a hoarse, low voice as he raised himself eye level to her.
She looked up into his eyes. The same eyes that had looked so hard, so hurt, so pained--now were filled with wariness. He, the Earl of Greystone, warrior of the king, was worried that her feelings had changed. He was regretful, she knew that he had mistrusted her, that he had rejected her. He was wanting to start anew and only she knew that it was, now, too late. Later, he would know and probably hate her for her decision, but now she would tell him the truth, the truth that she knew he wanted to hear. "Darian, I have loved you from the beginning," she began, then reached up and put a soft kiss upon his mouth. "And I still love you."
He felt himself relieved at her answer and it made him realize just how afraid he was of losing her. But he would worry no more. She loved him. And he would make certain that he never gave her a cause to change those feelings!
"My Kristy..." he murmured into her mouth as his arms went about her, embracing her.
Later, Kristy held tightly to him, wishing that this feeling didn't have to end. She asked herself over and over, why it couldn't always be this way between them. Why had he ever mistrusted her? Why couldn't he have believed in her from the start? It was those nagging questions that reminded her of her decision. Would he always be wary of her? Would another lie or another doubt cause him to reject her again? He had put her through an emotional hell these last two months and never did she want to go through that again. And never did she want to subject her child to it either.
Yes, she was still going home…to stay.
As she pulled back away from his arms he started to protest but she smiled at him. A smile that was laced with a sadness that he failed to notice, "I have something for you," she told him and he let her rise.
Pulling on her wrapper, she padded over to the big trunk propped open against the wall and pulled from it a leather pouch. When she returned to the bed he was sitting up, the covers about his waist, and a curious look in his eyes.
"Everything has been so hectic that I forget about your Christmas present I had made for you," she explained as she handed over the pouch.
A bemused expression was written on his handsome face. "You had this made for me?" he asked in an unbelieving tone.
"Yes."
In his entire twenty-eight years, he could not ever remember anyone giving him a gift. He looked up at his wife and thought to himself how lucky he was to have her. "Thank you," he told her softly.
She couldn't help but giggle. "There is something inside the leather you know. Open it!"
He returned her smile and carefully opened the pouch, then drew out the small silver frame. He drew a loud breath when he looked down at the beautifully done miniature painting of his wife. He caressed the edge of the frame gently as if he held precious jewels in his palm. "It is beautiful," he told her as he look back up. He then stood and laid a hand on the curve of her jaw. "Just as you are beautiful, my lady. I thank you, again." He pulled her to him and put a sweet kiss on her closed lips.
Fearing she would once again be lost under his spell she turned away from him. He caught her by the arm but she pulled it back shaking her head. "Please don't, Darian. There is something that I have to tell you…and…it is going to be difficult to say.
His brow wrinkling with puzzlement, he told her, "Kristy, there is naught that you could tell me tonight that would disturb me," But he grew even more puzzled when she let out a sob and walked over to the ************************************************************ **** He didn't go after her this time, instead, he waited for her to speak, a unaccountable feeling of dread started to grow deep within him,
"I gave you the painting for a purpose," she began in a faint voice. She turned her tear streak face towards him. "It is to remember me by, Darian."
His face went white, "What the devil do you mean by 'remember?'" he demanded in a sharp tone.
She swallowed hard, fearful of how he would react. "I am leaving, Darian."
"NO!" he bellowed. In a blink he was before her, grabbing her arms in a rough grip. "Do you honestly think that I would allow you to leave?" he asked incredulously.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. "You can't stop it, Darian. Tonight, I change places with the real Christiana."
She found herself hauled into his expansive chest and trapped within his arms. "No! You are my wife, Kristy. You belong to me. ME! You do not belong to that world any longer!" His voice was insistent and just a little desperate.
Tears still flowed from her eyes and she beseeched him to listen. "Darian, please. You have to let me explain everything. Please!" she pleaded, as she hit his chest with her fist. Finally he release her. Turning he ran a hand through his hair and walked back towards the bed.
"Tell me," was all he said in his gruff voice. She had never seen him so upset.
She took a deep breath and began, "Jubal, has told me that Christiana and I will trade places for two weeks. At the end of those two weeks, we must make the decision to stay or go back."
At her words he whirled around to face her, a hopeful gleam in his eye. But she stopped him. "We must both be in agreement. If Christiana decides to stay here in the twelfth century, then I must stay in the twentieth and of course, vice versa."
She was surprise when he let out a joyful hoot of laughter. "Then why, wife, are you so worried? By God, two weeks living with me, and Christiana will be begging to go back. That I can assure you," he told her confidently.
Her face did not however reflect his relief or his joy. Instead her countenance remained unsmiling, determined. "I have decided to stay in my own century, Darian," she told him quietly.
He looked over to her, not moving, his features for the first time that night, unreadable. "Can you not forgive me, my lady?" he asked softly.
She looked away from his penetrating gaze. "I forgave you, Darian. But I cannot live in fear that it would happen again. You do not trust me. You do not trust any woman. How can you ask me to live like that?"
"It is true that I deserve your doubts. But I have realized the fool that I have been. I know that you would never betray me. It took me a long time to realize that, but 'tis truth, Kristy, you must believe that I do trust you.
She sank down in the chair that stood close to the bed and rubbed her forehead wearily. "I want to believe you Darian. Please understand that I really do." She looked at him and went on, "There are other reasons why I must leave you."
"Such as?"
"The baby. I am frightened of giving birth in this century. My sister had such problems with her delivery. If it had not been for modern doctors and medicine, Darian, she would have died. I don't want that to happen to me. I am frightened," she informed him in a teary whisper.
He knelt down beside her and took her hand into his, "You are strong, my Kristy. It is true the risk is there, but I will do everything I can to ease your discomfort. You will be fine, my love, I know it!"
"You cannot know that!" she practically yelled back at him. "I am tired and I am scared, I just want to go back to my own time. I want to go home!" She tried to pull her hands from his but he held on.
"This is your home and this is MY child. You cannot take my child away from me, Kristy." He had to make her understand, Sweet Mary, but she couldn't do this to him.
"He would be better off in the twentieth century. He can have a better life, there," she argued not really sure if what she spoke was the truth.
"Would he be better off without his father? This child is my heir. If he is a boy, he would be the next Earl of Greystone. Can you deny him that right?"
She jumped up from the chair and away from him, "I don't know. I just don't know…" she cried while rubbing her hands over her face. She knew that he had a good point. Could she deny her son his rightful place? Could she take him away from his father?
Darian clenched his jaw as his anger mounted. "What of this Christiana? Would you have me take her to wife? Would you have me share her bed? Because that would be exactly what would happen. She would be in reality, my wife, therefore she would have to bear me a child." He voice was harsh but he didn't taunt her to be cruel. It was the only way he could think of to get through to her.
She turned to face him and could feel herself grow pale. The thought of him, sleeping with someone else made her ill. But instead of crying like she wanted to, she fixed her features with a determined look. "Yes, I suppose she would be your wife."
Something within him snapped. He reached out and yanked her to him, his fingers biting painfully into her arm. "You will come back to me, my lady. By God, you will!" He ruthlessly ground his mouth to hers, not caring whether he hurt her, only insane with the thought of her leaving him. He heard her cry out against his mouth, her lips parting slightly, giving him the chance to invade her softness savagely with his probing tongue. She pushed against him, her fist pounding his chest.
"NO! Darian, Please…" she forced out against his assaulting mouth.
Something in her tone caused him to pause, for he broke off the offending kiss and clutched her tightly to him, her head beneath his chin. "You will come back…" he repeated in a anguished whisper.
Hearing his pain, she could not hold back the tears that welled up in her eyes. For more than a few minutes she wept against his chest as he unwaveringly stroked her back in a comforting gesture. If she had looked up she would have seen the tears in his own yes, and it took everything within him to keep them from falling. The lump in his throat felt as though it would choke him if he did not release it, but he managed to keep himself in check.
He let her go when, at last, she had calmed down and stepped out of his embrace. She walked back to the window and this time opened the shutter to let the cool air envelop her. The air was filled with light dots of snowflakes blowing to and fro on their decent to the cold ground. Several hit her lightly on the face. "It's snowing again," she commented offhandedly as much to herself than to Darian.
His face mirrored the troubled feelings that were coursing through him as he looked over at her. What the devil did the fact that it was snowing have to do with anything? And why was she getting away from the subject at hand? And why the bloody devil did she walk away from him when he told her to come back to him?
His face paled. It could only mean one thing. She still was intent on her earlier decision. She wasn't coming back to him.
His voice was intentionally harsh when he spoke. "Never would I have believed you to run away from anything, Kristy! From the first time that you laid eyes on me, you have stood up to me! Now…Now you back down? Now you decide to run? God, I had thought you possessed greater spirit that this!"
She whirled around to face him, her eyes burning brightly with outrage. "YOU have nearly crushed what spirit that I possess, Earl Greystone! When I came to this century, I was still hurting because of what a man had done to me. I thought I loved him. But did you know the moment that I laid eyes on you that all but forgot that he existed? You worked your way in my heart from the start. Why do you think I gave myself to you that first night so willingly? It wasn't because you were my husband. No, it was because, that despite you being a stranger to me, I felt that in my heart, I knew you. I wanted to take that hurt away from you. I WANTED to love you, Darian!" She paused to allow her words to sink in before continuing. Her anger dissipated and cooled, a hardness set within her. "But you…you took that love and that trust that I gave you and you threw it right back in my face. Everyone in the castle and village believed me innocent after awhile, but not you. You just couldn't believe that your wife could be innocent."
She turned back to the window in a dismissive gesture and finished in a drained emotional tone, "Now you know the truth, but it's too late, Darian. If I lack spirit, you so desire, then the fault for that falls on you, I believe." As she looked out into the night air she braced herself for another burst of anger from him. But she was to be disappointed.
Darian's heart seemed to tighten within his chest at her words. There could be no arguing with them, for they spoke the damning truth…he was at fault. This whole thing was his fault. Because of his rash, false judgement, he had thrown away the best thing that ever happened to him.
He deserved it. He deserved to be left alone. It was his fault that his child would never know his father. He deserved to be straddled with her look alike and be reminded for the rest of his life, every time he looked at her, of what he had thrown away. He bloody well deserved it all.
Kristy nearly jumped when she felt his arms come around her and pull her back against his chest.
"If there was something I could do to beg your forgiveness, I would do it. But, alas, there is nothing that could make up for what I have done. But please know that I did come to believe in you, even before the girl had told me of the truth. I had finally admitted your innocence in my heart."
Kristy didn't say anything to that, for she didn't know whether to believe him or not. She wanted, with everything in her, to believe but was afraid to. She also knew that she shouldn't let him hold her this way, but couldn't, for the life of her, walk out of his arms. She would miss this man, her husband. Deep in her heart she knew that she would never love like this again. Never could anyone replace him in her heart.
"Kristy," Darian murmured, while turning her around to face him. "Please, grant me one thing." His troubled gray eyes were pleading with her, as was his voice.
"If I can, Darian."
"In the two weeks that you are given by your angel, I will only ask that you not make your decision until the very end of that time. In that time I hope that you think about us. Know that if you return to me that I will trust you and care for you with all my being and all my life. Think about our child and know that the decision you make will be the best for him."
She held his gaze and saw the emotion that darkened his eyes and found that she could not deny him his request. "She nodded her head. "I will grant you that. I will wait until the two weeks are up before I make my decision."
"Thank you," he whispered, then kissed her softly.
She looked up at him when their lips parted and asked, "Darian, will you stay with me tonight? At least until I go to sleep?"
He nodded and smoothed her cheek. "Aye. Aye, I will stay with you. A thousand knights could not take me from you this night."
When they were once again beneath the covers of the bed, he pulled her back into him and there bodies molding together, his arms clutch her middle as tightly as he could without causing pain. It was as if he were holding on to her for dear life. And to Darian that was exactly what he felt. His life would be worth naught without her.
As he held her, he suddenly realized he had never told her what had been most on his mind. He couldn't believe that he had forgotten the most important words of all. He hadn't told her that he loved her.
"My Kristy," he whispered against her temple, "I believe that I neglected to tell you the full extent of my feelings for you. My beautiful lady, know this, that I love you with every fiber of my being. You are my life, my heart, my breath and I do love you."
But the very words that Kristy had wanted to hear from the start, now went unheard. She had already fallen asleep.
He realized this and gave a heavy sigh. His arms tightened around her and he willed himself not to fall asleep, thinking that maybe if he stayed awake, he could stop her from leaving.
But it was not to be. Try as he might, he could not hold his eyes open and within minutes he fell into a deep sleep, still holding on to his wife with all his might, will and soul.

Chapter 20

The darkness slowly evaporated over the city, as the bright sheen from the morning sun made its appearance over the horizon.
Tiny shimmering sparkles winked like diamonds as its rays bounced off the lingering snow that had fallen just the day before. An occasional sound of a siren broke through the rare silence of the City that Never Sleeps, as its residents began to flock to the recently swept streets.
It was Monday. Just a regular day of the week, to most of New York City. A day to reflect on the weekend you just enjoyed. . A day to curse for coming much too soon. . A day that makes people move a little slower as they contemplate the long week ahead, before they can once again reach Friday evening. Just a regular Monday.
To most people, that is..
Inside the plush Greenwich Village apartment, the darkness still prevailed. The thick black vertical blinds were pulled shut against the invading light, the only brightness coming from the faint green light from the digital radio clock beside the bed. For a moment, all was peaceful. All was quiet.
But then that same radio clock suddenly flashed the eight o'clock hour, triggering the alarm. With a loud blast, the music of the Backstreet Boys filled the large bedroom.
Kristy came awake at once. Her heart pounded against her chest, her eyes tried to adjust to the surrounding darkness. For a moment she had no idea where she was or how she got there. Out of unconscious habit her hand reached to hit the snooze button, stopping the music, while the other hand raked back the thick veil of hair from her face.
Still out of sorts, she looked over to the side of her bed and then turned on the lamp beside the clock. She immediately closed her eyes against the brightness, then slowly opened them again.
A tightness gripped her chest as she looked about the room. The same room that she herself had decorated. The same room that she now felt like a stranger in
She was back in her own century.
Her hand automatically fell to her belly and she smiled when she felt the slight thickness. Her child was still there. But that smile fell away as she realized that yes, she was here and her baby was here, but…Darian was not.
Closing her eyes tightly, Kristy fought the despair that had abruptly come over her. Already she missed him. Already she mourned his loss.
Pulling herself from the bed, she started walking about the apartment, reacquainting herself with her things. How modern everything seemed. The floors were carpeted, not covered with rushes; her walls were papered, not cold and damp; the air was warm, her lights did not drip with wax, the furniture was comfortable and the air smelt pleasant.
But all this brought her no relief. Some would think she had totally gone mad, but she was missing her medieval castle with all its backward, crude ways. It had crept into her heart without her realizing it. She had thought that she would be overjoyed at being among civilization once again. She sighed and started towards the bathroom. Maybe she was just experiencing culture shock, and after a little while, the feeling of loss would dissipate. Maybe.
After a long ********************************************************ing shower, however, she began to readjust some of her thinking! The apple scented shampoo felt like Heaven as she lathered it into her hair. If this gave her a thrill, she couldn't imagine what brushing her teeth would do to her!
About an hour later, she was dressed in a pair of mint green twill trousers with a slim fitting sweater of the same color on top. She couldn't remember buying this particular outfit and surmised that Christiana had done a little bit of shopping while she was here. She hoped that she still had money left over in her bank account!
She was just about to reach for the phone to call her sister, when the doorbell stopped her hand. She walked over and unlocked the three locks that lined the edge of her door, then opened it.
Her sister Danielle swept past her and into the apartment before she had a chance to say anything. "Chris, I came as soon as I got your message. I was out of town last night and didn't check my answering machine until this morning. Now what is going… Chris…are you alright? You look a little pale."
Kristy, who had merely been too shocked at seeing her sister again, had not moved from the door, only staring at her as if she were seeing a ghost. She could only whisper one word…
"Danny…"
This time it was Danielle who paled. "Oh, my goodness! Kristy…it's you? Is it really you?" she cried and propelled herself into Kristy's arms, squeezing her tight. "I thought I'd never see you again!"
They pulled back to look at each other and started laughing when they saw tears running down both their faces. Kristy clutched Danny's hands and looked her over. Her sister was just as tall as she, but had auburn hair and green eyes. Their features were very similar as well as their build. "I see you've finally got your figure back!" she commented referring to the weight she had gained after having her baby.
"Did you doubt that I wouldn't?" she asked in mock indignation, a red eyebrow raised. "And you, Sis, look very good, too. Especially for a woman who has just traveled eight hundred years! You have to tell me everything!" she finished in an excited tone as she pulled her towards the sofa.
"Oh! I forgot to shut the door," Kristy remembered and started to turn around to do so when she caught the pained look on her sister's face.
"Uh-oh…" Danny murmured as she looked over Kristy's shoulder towards the door.
Kristy furrowed her brows in puzzlement and turned to see what had Danny so full of dread. Her eyes fell on a man coming through her door. This time, she didn't just pale, she turned deathly white. And for the first time in her whole life…
She fainted.
"Kristy!" Danielle shrieked as she dropped to her knees beside the sofa, where the gentleman had laid her sister, after a quick catch.
That same man wore a concerned look upon his handsome face as he sat on the side of her. He gently caressed her check as he murmured her name lovingly.
He then looked at Danielle. "Why ever would she faint like that? Has she been ill?" Alexander Maxwell, the Duke of Amberton, asked in his husky British accent, his eyes full of worry and concern.
Danielle bit her bottom lip as she tried to think of a way to tell him the news. "Alex, I don't know quite how this, but…."
Kristy began to stir causing Danielle to stop talking. They both watched as Kristy opened her eyes.
He was still here! Kristy thought as she stared up at the man who looked so much like her husband. As she studied him she began to notice little differences, but the look that he was giving her was so much like Darien it took her breath away. It was a look of pure love.
Who was this man?
"Darling, are you alright? You gave me quite a scare, just know!" the man commented as he stroked her face with his strong hands.
Kristy looked over to her sister in confusion, but Danielle just gave her a helpless look. She looked back at the man and asked, "Do I know you?"
The man frowned. "I beg your pardon?"
"Uh…Alex, that's what I was trying to tell you," Danielle finally spoke up with a shaky laugh.
But before she could explain, Alex held up his hand, silencing her. He studied Kristy's face with a careful thoroughness, then slowly got up and backed away from her. Squaring his shoulders, he looked down at her. "You're not Christiana, are you."
Kristy wanted to weep at the sadness that had crept into his voice. "No, I'm not," she told him as gently as she could.
"This is Kristy, Alex…the real one," Danielle explained.
"Kristy," he greeted faintly, as he struggled to compose himself as the impact of the truth settled into him. "Christiana went back, didn't she." It wasn't a question.
Danielle answered anyway. "I'm sorry, Alex."
Nodding he sank down in the chair. "She told me that she might go back, but I'm not sure that I believed that she would go."
"Kristy, Alex has been dating Christiana for quite sometime," she explained, then shook her head in exasperation. "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce you to him."
She motioned towards Alex. "Kristy, this is Alexander Maxwell, the Duke of Amberton."
Kristy sat up, upon hearing his name. "Maxwell? Are you a descendant of Darian Maxwell, Earl of Greystone?"
He nodded. "Actually I'm also the Earl of Greystone, but when one of the ancestors was awarded a dukedom, it became a lessor title. Christiana told me about Darian, so I've been researching him. I recently found a portrait of him and noticed that I bare a striking resemblance to him." He smiled sadly. "Which explains why you fainted when you saw me."
Kristy studied him for a moment. "You are in love with Christiana," she guessed correctly.
"With all my heart. I had done all I could to talk her into becoming my wife, but she stubbornly refused me, every time," he explained with a grimace.
Kristy looked at him with understanding. "Sometimes, the people that we love have hard time accepting it."
The smile he gave her, this time, did reach his eyes, for he had a feeling that he had just met a kindred spirit. "You seem to speak from experience."
"More than you know!"
Alex looked at her for a moment, then asked. "Kristy, is this the end of it? Will I ever see Christiana again?"
Kristy placed a weary hand over her eyes, then sat up. "We have two weeks to each make that decision. At the end of that time, if we both agree that we want to go back, then we'll trade places once more. If just one of us decides against it, then everything must stay as it is."
Alex came around, and sat beside her. "Do you want to go back?" he demanded in an authoritative voice that sounded so much like Darian that it temporarily took her aback.
"I haven't decided one way or the other," she hedged breaking contact with his intense stare.
Danielle flung herself on her other side. "Kristy, don't tell me that you are contemplating going back! Have you lost your mind?" her sister fairly screamed at her.
"Danny, please! I said that I don't know…"
"This is insane!" Danny interrupted.
"What is insane about it? She is obviously old enough to make her own decisions!" Alex interjected.
"You keep out of this, Duke! You are hardly impartial in all of this. You just want Chris back!"
Alex stood up and glared over Kristy's head. "You are, bloody well, right about that! But I do not see you as being 'impartial' either!"
Danny jumped up and glared back at him. "I don't care what you bloody think!"
"Oh, please!" Kristy murmured in an exasperated tone and stood up between them. "For gosh sakes, Danny, calm down. We'll talk about this later." She had never seen Danny lose her temper like this. Usually she was the calm, logical one. Her sister looked at her and realized the fool she was making of herself and visibly relaxed and nodded. Kristy then asked her, "Danny, why don't you fix us some coffee. I think I need to talk with Alexander a few moments alone."
"Okay," she agreed, then looked over apologetically to Alex. "Sorry, Alex."
Alex smiled at her and reached around Kristy to pat her on the arm. "It is I who should apologize."
Kristy could see her sister was about to argue that point, also, so she gave her a friendly push towards the kitchen. "The coffee, Danny."
When she had sat back down she found herself studying Alex. "I just can't get over the fact that you look so much like Darian." Then she amended. "A civilized Darien, that is! I always wondered what Darian would look like in a short hair cut and modern clothes, and now I know. Very nice!"
He grinned. "Thank you for the compliment. And may I say that you and Chris could pass for identical twins."
"We must! Did you know that I even fooled her father?"
"You're joking!"
She shook her head. "No. He's a very nice man, but I don't think he gave Christiana very much attention. She was pretty much left alone to do what she pleased. So when he demanded that she marry Darian, she threw a fit and made that wish that sent her here!"
The duke grimaced. "That I can believe. Christiana seems to have this warped opinion that being married to me would be something close to slavery."
"It's the century that she's from. From what I can see, women aren't regarded as very important. Their worth is in the dowry they bring to a marriage and the heirs that they produce."
Alex heard the pain behind her words and asked, "Did Darian treat you with so little importance?"
She didn't know if it was is kind manner or if it was just that he reminded her so much of her husband, but she felt comfortable with this man. So from start to finish, she poured out her story to him, leaving our nothing – her feelings, the baby – everything.
He was thoughtful for a moment. "From the way Christiana had talked a of Darian, he sounded like a horrid, cruel man who killed for the fun of it and ravished innocent girls. Yet from hearing you tell of him, he sounds like a man who has suffered great pain in his life."
"He has. And Christiana had only heard rumors of Darian. After we were married, I found out none of those rumors were true."
"You married him? We're you forced?" He asked incredulously.
"I had no choice in the matter, but the moment I saw him, I knew that he was special. It was practically love at first sight…for me anyway." She walked to the sliding glass door and looked out to city.
He came behind her. "Did he love you, also?"
"He never told me that he loved. He wants me. He desires me. But he doesn't love me."
She turned and looked at him, tears in her eyes. "And I'm carrying his child."
"Dear God," he said, clearly shocked. "Does he know?"
She nodded. "Yes, and when he found out, he begged me not to return. But I had to get away. I had to make the right decision for my baby and myself."
They stood for a few moments in silence, each thoughtful. Then Alex laid a hand on her shoulder. "Kristy, please do not think that I will pressure you to return. I do love Christiana, and would give everything that I own to have her back, but it has to be right for you." He sighed and dropped his arm. "And besides, Christiana may chose not to return."
Kristy smiled at him. "I don't know about that. Darian told me he was going to make sure that her two weeks would not be pleasant ones. And believe me, if anyone could be unpleasant, it's Darian!" she informed him. "Anyway, if Christiana would not marry you, for fear she'd lose her freedom, I would not expect she would want to be the wife of the one person she wanted to escape."
Alex returned her smile. "I hope that you're right." He turned his attention back to the scenery below them, his face thoughtful for a moment. "Kristy, if… if Chris does not come back – if you do not trade back places – would you consider something?"
She looked up at his handsome profile. "Consider what?"
"Marrying me."
"What?!" she gasped, looking at him totally astounded. "But why?"
"The baby you carry is a Maxwell, is it not?"
"Of course, it is, but I don't see your point."
Alexander ran a hand through his dark hair. "The point is, that the baby needs a father. HE is a Maxwell heir. It would be a travesty to deny him his rightful title. And if he cannot be the fourth Earl of Greystone, then he shall be the fifth Duke of Amberton." Before she could utter a protest, he continued. "And besides, I need to marry and if it cannot be Chris, then I would want it to be you. Since, I've been seeing Christiana, it would not seem at all odd that we would have made a child. No one would question whether the child is mine."
Kristy shook her head as if to gather her thoughts. This was crazy! "Alex, despite the fact that we look alike, I assure you I am not her!"
Alex impatiently shook his head back at her. "No, you don't understand, we are both in love with people that we may never see again. I like you and know that we could live companionably with one another. It would be in name only. Your son, however would be my son. I would raise him and love him as if he were my own." He spoke it with such conviction that Kristy did not doubt that he meant it.
But she was unconvinced. "Could we live like that, Alex? Could we be married without love? Would my son or daughter not be affected by this?"
He covered her hand with his own. "Perhaps it would not remain loveless. We would start out as friends, and love could grow."
She looked away and took a deep breath. Her emotions were in turmoil once again. Decisions. There were so many decisions to be made. "I promised Darian that I would not make my decision until the end of the two weeks. If either Christiana's or my decision causes us to remain where we are, then I will seriously consider your proposal.

Chapter 21

The next morning, Alex was at her door again. It was almost painful to look at him. Upon first glance, he looked so much like Darian that it made her long for her husband. What was he doing? Would he decide that Christiana would work out after all, as a wife? Perhaps there would be an attraction between them.
Perhaps they belonged together.
Forcing herself to dispel her dismal thoughts, she smiled at Alex and invited him in.
"I didn't expect to see you this morning," she commented curiously as he sat down on her sofa. "Can I get you a cup of coffee?"
He looked at her, studying her. She wondered if he felt the same way she did when he looked at her. He must miss Christiana. "No, I've had a cup of tea this morning. Although coffee is quite popular in England, now, I've never developed a taste for it."
She smiled as she sat across from him, picking up her own cup that she'd set down on the coffee table. "I've been drinking too much, I'm afraid. That is one thing I've missed since my medieval adventure." She took a sip as if demonstrating the point.
He smiled and after a moments hesitation got down to the point of his visit. "Kristy, I have an idea I wanted to talk to you about."
She raised an eyebrow. "Sounds important."
He nodded. "It is. I wanted to know if you'd like to travel to Greystone with me."
Kristy slowly lowered her cup down to the table. Her breath caught at the prospect of going to a modern Greystone. "When are you leaving?"
"Today."
Her eyes widened. " I don't know if..." she paused, letting her protest die on her lips. She thought of his proposal. She thought of the child that she carried and that Greystone would someday be his birthright. She thought of the village Darian had worked so hard to preserve, the very village that still existed today.
She had to go. It was as if the place was calling her.
"All right," she answered quickly. "Just let me throw some clothes in a suitcase."
Pleased, he nodded and stood up. "I'll pick you up in an hour."
She nodded and started to turn around, but then he held out his hand to her.
Staring down at his outstretched palm, she slowly reached out to place her hand in his, then lifted her gaze. For a moment they stared at one another. There was a kinship between them, some sort of bond. It wasn't a feeling of attraction or desire, the kind that she felt when she touched Darian, but different somehow. Special.
Suddenly she was in his arms, her head resting against his chest. His arms tightened about her, comforting her. Bringing peace.
They stood that way for a few brief moments, then they slowly broke apart. He kissed her on her forehead, tenderly, then turned and walked out of the door.
Feeling a bit surreal from what she'd just experienced, she turned away from the door and walked to her bedroom. But she kept thinking about Alex and the kind of man he was.
One thing she knew for sure. Christiana would have to be a fool not to love him.
************
They landed at Heathrow around six that afternoon. A limo was waiting for them and drove them up to Greystone, which was located just a few miles from Nottingham and Sherwood Forest. Alex played tour guide for her, pointing out various landmarks along the way. The further they drove out of London, the more beautiful it became. The fields stretched along the highway stretched out upon rolling hills that were criss-crossed with stone walls. Sheep grazed lazily in the fields and old abbeys and ruins of castles could be seen way off in the distance on some lonesome hill as a reminder of yesteryear. It was extraordinary and yet so different from the way she'd seen it in the past.
When they were passing Nottingham, she asked curiously, "So how did you and Christiana meet?"
"I was contacted by Chantal Cosmetics about them using my land for a photo shoot. Chris was one of the models that was on that shoot." He laughed shaking his head. "She didn't seem like the other girls. As a matter of fact, she didn't seemed to know what to do, like she'd never posed for a camera before. Of course, I know know that she actually hadn't!"
Thinking about the career she'd worked so hard to build up, Kristy groaned. "Do I have any sort of a career left?"
He smiled at her and nodded. "Apparently Chris is a natural. Once she realized what she was suppose to do, she took to it like a duck on the water. But I don't think she really enjoyed it." He said the last sentence almost to himself.
"You know, I really didn't either. Not after I realized I wanted to marry and have a family instead."
He looked sad at her words. "That wasn't what Chris wanted. After she went back to New York, she took on some studio work and runway, but she declined to travel. I thought it was so that she could be with me, since I'd taken an apartment over here so that I could be near her. But she was adamant against marriage. She didn't want a family with me or anyone."
Kristy reached out and took his hand into hers in a comforting gesture. His palm has so warm against hers. It made her feel safe.
He looked passed her shoulder, then smiled. "We are here."
"Here? Greystone?" She quickly looked about her, trying to find something familiar about the place. All she saw was a lot of old building that looked to date around 1600-1700. There was nothing of the old Greystone.
She sighed. "It's changed."
This time it was he who squeezed her hand. "Yes, Greystone has been through many changes over the last few centuries. Actually, I am one of a very few titled gentlemen who still actually owns their original land. Most were sold because of taxes or heirs that didn't care about tradition."
The buildings looked somewhat like Nottingham's had looked. Very closed together and close to the narrow street. Some even leaned, they were so old. "Darian, what happened to the castle? Was it torn down?" she suddenly had to know.
"It was one of the few remaining castles after the civil war, but it had been badly damaged. The family at the time, lived in it for a few more years, and then built a hall outside of the town a bit." He pointed to straight ahead. "There it is, now."
It was a ruin, now. Where it had once stood majestically on a hill surrounded by a great wall, the town had built up around it, making the hill look like a small mound. The moat was, of course, gone. The wall was still intact around the gate, but was completely missing in some parts. There in the center stood the broken down Greystone Castle. The ceilings were gone in most places, with just the ********************************l of the building standing like a beacon through the setting sun.
Tears welled up in her eyes and she grabbed onto Alex's arm. "Please...please stop the car."
Alex heard the panic in her voice and immediately picked up the phone to talk to the driver. The car was still in a slow roll when Kristy jumped out of the car, with Alex following close behind.
There was a ticket gate that she ran through, and when the woman behind the booth started to protest that she didn't pay the 3 pounds for the entrance fee, Alex quickly intervened, telling her it was alright.
Kristy ran through the gate up to the castle door that still was intact on it's old rusty hinges. She threw herself onto the door, tears pouring down her cheeks as she felt the cool wood beneath her wet cheek. Her hands caressed the wood, unmindful of the splinters she could incur. There was a feeling in the wood and stone. A feeling of all those who's lived and died had left some part of themselves behind. It was in the air. She could almost here the laughter of the children, the chatter of the servants and villagers.
It was a ruin. A hollow ********************************l of the glorious building it once was. How could it be so? How could it seem so empty and lonely, yet still hum with passion and glory?
"Kristy..." Alex's voice floated over her, just as his arms came around her in comfort. She turned around and allowed him to envelope her into his strong embrace.
"Oh, Alex. It's gone. There's nothing now. Nothing at all," she cried into his shirt.
He smoothed a hand down her hair and kissed the silken tresses. "Not at all, Kristy. It still stands and that in itself is a miracle! It's one of the oldest in England and millions of tourist from around the world come and stand upon its grounds and experience the feeling of being within this grand castle. Some have told me that they could actually hear the sounds of soldiers and the laughter of those who'd lived before. It's a special place. A place that gives everyone a glimpse of the past.
Her tears slowly subsided and she backed away from him wiping her eyes. Slowly she turned back to the castle, looking at it through Alex's eyes. It was still wonderful in its own way. There was something magical about it.
"Here, let's go and look." He pushed open the old door and led her into the ruin.
Slowly she look around and up, noticing that though the floors of the upstairs were gone, she could still see the indention where they once were. Suddenly she wasn't sad anymore. Pulling Alex by the hand, she began to tell him how everything once looked and what went where.
For Alex it was a glimpse into his family history that he had only dreamed about, being a history buff like he was! She made it come alive for him and by the end of their tour, he could almost hear the sounds of people, too.
But soon it became too dark to see anything, and they had to leave. Hand in hand they walked out of the castle. The ticket booth had long ago closed, so Alex used his key to lead them out.
"Now, you get to see how the Maxwell's live now. It's a pretty old hall, itself, but much more comfortable than a castle would have been, " he informed her as they got back into the limo.
Kristy leaned her head back, turning it slightly towards Alex and smiled *******ly. "I can't wait! Do you have one of those long halls where the pictures of all your dead ancestors hang?"
"The longest you've ever seen!"
"Then let's head home."
She almost took the "home" back when she said it, but closed her mouth instead. Greystone did seem like home. Whether it was the twelfth century or the 21st.

Chapter 22

Greystone 2Hall was magnificent. It reminded her of the Pemberly Mansion, as it was portrayed on A & E's version of Pride and Prejudice. Tall and wide and made of sand colored stone, it rivaled Buckingham Palace. But where you might think such a place would be cold and empty, inside there was a warmth and charm - almost cozy, if one can be cozy in such a large place.
And Alex had been right. There was a hall full of generations of Maxwells. All the men bore striking resemblances to Alex and Darian with their dark good looks and confident stance. Alex had shone her to the hall just after they'd arrived, giving her a small tour of the place.
She turned and smiled at Alex as they continued down the long hallway. "It's amazing that you have all this history about your ancestors. We in America can barely tell you who our great-great-grandparents were or where they were from."
He smiled and patted her hand that was resting in the crook of his arm. "I'm luckier than most of the nobility, I suppose. Most estates have been sold because of high taxes and lack of family funds. But most still know where they've come from, and if it gets lost along the way, then we just make it up!" he told her with a dashing smile.
Kristy laughed. "You guys aren't the only ones who have free license to do that! I know of a half a dozen people who have claimed to be kin to the outlaw Jessie James! Why that would make them feel proud, I have no idea. And of course most claim to have an Indian grandmother somewhere in their line."
"What kind of ancestry do you claim?"
She lifted her eyebrows and gave him a superior look. "Why, I have it on good authority that I'm from pure Irish potato farmer stock. Of course I too had an Indian grandmother!"
They both laughed at that and then they finally reached the end of the hall. There in a beautifully crafted frame was Alex Maxwell's portrait. It was a smaller than the others.
"I didn't want a large portrait painted of me alone. I want to add the portrait of my wife when I marry," he explained.
She looked up at him. "Christiana should have her portrait there."
He nodded solemnly. "Yes, she should. But that may not happen."
Kristy looked away. "I wish I knew what to do, Alex. I'm so confused."
He stunned her by taking her into his strong arms and pulling her head to his chest. "We will work through this together, Kristy. The answers will come. They must," he whispered gruffly against the smooth silkiness of her hair.
Kristy didn't pull away, but rather gave herself over the comfort that Alex was offering. He made her feel safe. Could she grow to love Alex? Could she forget her time in the past and concentrate on a future with this lovable, gentle man?
At the moment it seemed unthinkable. But she would think on these things during the week to come.
And think she did. Although it was hard sometimes, with Alex entertaining her. They toured around the area, and he allowed her to meet his mother and brothers. (Although she had to pretend she'd already met them, since Christiana had already done so.) They were nice folks, just like Alex was.
Alex. Kristy wondered what would have happened if she'd met him before she'd met Darian. Kristy knew that she would have been attracted to him and maybe have even had a relationship with him. But she had met Darian first and Darian was the man that she loved. The man that she now knew that she couldn't live without.
Tonight, she expect Jubal to return to her. Tonight, she was going to tell him that she'd made up her mind. Tonight, she hoped and prayed that Christiana made the same decision as she.
But she needed to tell Alex. She left her room and made her way to the large library that Alex had made himself an office in. He looked up at her as she walked into the room.
For a moment, they stared at one another across the darkly paneled room.
"You've made your decision." He spoke it as fact and not as a question. He could see her resolved written in her brilliant eyes.
Kristy nodded and walked over to him. "I'm going to tell Jubal that I want to go back." She went around the desk and sat on the edge of it.
A look of hope crossed his face. "Do you think that Christiana will also want to trade places?"
She shook her head. "I have no way of knowing, Alex. We can only hope."
He frowned and took her hand gently into his own. "What about your concerns for your baby? Are you sure that you want to do this?"
Kristy smiled and squeezed his hand. "I can't live without him, Alex. I don't want my son or daughter to grow up without knowing their father. Living in the middle ages is not a picnic, but I've grown to love it and the people of Greystone. I have to go back."
Alex stood and hugged up to him. "I wish you the very best in life, Kristy. You deserve no less."
She reached up and kissed his rough cheek. "I wish the same for you, Alex. You are such a special man."
He laughed and pulled back from her. "Let's just hope that Christiana thinks so."
"I'm not sure about that, but I do know that she wants to return," a new voice sounded behind them.
Kristy whirled around. There stood Jubal in his lovely robes and serene smile. "Jubal! Are you saying..."
"I'm saying that Christiana prefers this century to her own. She wants to trade places for a final time." He gave her a direct look. "Now what is your answer Kristy Kendrick? Will you go or stay?"
Kristy looked at Alex, then reached up and gave him one last hug. "I'll miss you, Alex. Take care."
Alex swallowed hard and cleared his throat trying to keep back his emotions. "I'll miss you, too, Kris. Take care of my little ancestor there."
With tears in her eyes she nodded and turned back to Jubal. "I'm ready to go back," she stated simply.
Jubal bowed his head. "So be it. When you awaken in the morning, you will be returned to the twelfth century."
Kristy nodded as they both watched Jubal disappear. Tomorrow she would be home. Tomorrow she would see her husband once again.
Giving Alex one last goodbye, she ran to call her sister before she went to bed. The faster she was asleep, the faster she'd be back to her true destiny.

Chapter 23

This was not Darian's room. This wasn't even her own chamber. As a matter of fact, this looked exactly like the first room she'd ever laid eyes on when she'd first time-traveled.
Dear Lord! She was back at Christiana's father's house!
What did this mean?
Quickly she jumped out of the bed and began searching for something to wear. Hearing her milling about, Nan came into the room, making a tsking noise.
"My, my, milady! What ever has gotten you into such a state?"
Falling back into her twelfth century persona, she answered her maid. "Nan, I must make haste and dress. I need to speak with my father."
Nan continued to make comments about how a lady should behave, but she did begin to move a little faster.
As soon as she looked presentable, she quickly ran down to the great hall, where Nan had told her that the baron was.
The large man was sitting with some of his men breaking his fast. Kristy had managed to get a little information from Nan, (even though the servant thought she was nuts for asking obvious questions) and she told her that Christiana had left Greystone only a week ago. Christiana's father, William had fallen ill so Christiana had used that excuse to come back to Cranbrook. But Nan had gently berated her for all the arguing and "unpleasantness" that had conspired between them in the week before. Apparently Christiana had no intention of going back to Greystone.
Kristy was glad to hear that Darian and Christiana had not gotten along, but she now had the awkward task of trying to convince her father that she wanted to go back - and convince her husband that she was back and not Christiana.
Taking a deep breath, she walked up to William and smiled. "Good morn, Father. I'm glad to see that you are looking well, once again," she told him smoothly. Nan had told her that William wasn't seriously ill anymore.
William took a drink from his tanker and sat back in his great chair. "Aye, daughter, I am at that." He motioned toward an empty chair by him. "Sit, Christiana. There is something of great importance that I must speak to you about."
"I need to speak with you too, er, Father. You see I..." she began but was interrupted.
"I know that you don't want to hear this, but I must insist that you return to Greystone and to your husband."
This was going to be easier than she thought! "Well, that is what I wanted...."
He lifted a large hard to ward off her words. "Now, I'll have no argument! I know that you came here to take care of me, but I am well, now. And I also know that things are not well with you and Darian but by law he is your husband. You must fulfill your duties as his wife!"
"But I want..."
"I don't care what you want, Daughter. Surely you do not want to bring shame on both families!" He looked down a moment before he continuing. "Now, I know 'tis true that Darian was heard telling you not to return, but surely, you can find a way to live in some sort of piece with the man! Use whatever feminine wiles you have to, just do it!"
Kristy tried hard not to laugh at how Darian had reacted to Christiana, but she couldn't stop the tears from gathering in her eyes. Apparently William thought she was crying, because he started patting her arm in an awkward way.
"Now, dear. 'Tis not something I do to make you unhappy. But it is for the good of all that you need to do this. All I am asking you to do, Christiana, is to try. Put aside your bitter feelings that you harbor for the man and make an attempt to make life - if not good - then settle for pleasant."
Kristy wanted to jump up and shout, "Of course, I'll go back! I love him!" But Lord William would never understand that reaction. So, instead, she nodded demurely, as if she were about to make a supreme sacrifice and told him, "I will do what you ask, Father. I will try to make it work."
"Fine, then!" he exclaimed, his shoulders lowering in relief. "I will not forget this, Daughter! I am proud of you."
She rose from the table. "I will go and help Nan prepare for the trip," she muttered quickly, then darted off to her chamber.
As the carriage bumped along the road to Greystone, following and preceding a dozen or so men-at-arms, Kristy took a deep breath and absently put a hand over her barely rounded stomach. For a moment she thought that she felt a small flutter, like butterfly wings, in her belly. Was the baby moving? Maybe the baby knew that he or she was finally home!
What Kristy didn't notice was that her father, who was sitting across from her with Nan was watching her closely and saw the dreamy smile that formed on her lips as she rubbed her stomach.
"Dear God! Are you with child, Christiana?" he belted out, his eyes wide with shock. "Why did you not tell me this?"
Maybe because Christiana didn't know that I was pregnant, she thought with amusement. To William she manufactured a lie. "Well...I knew that...you would not let me come to you if you knew that I was with child. I was too worried about you to let that happen, so I just did not tell you."
William's eyes narrowed on her. "I wonder if you were more worried about yourself, than me, Christiana."
Kristy sighed. "That's not true, Father. And it is beside the point. I am on my way back, am I not?"
William stared at her a minute more, then directed his attention out of the ************************************************************ ****
The sky had begun to dim when one of the men-at-arms informed them they had entered Greystone lands.
Everything seemed quiet about the castle. Nothing but the clomps of the horses hooves and the squeaking of the carriage wheels could be heard as they reached the castle gates.
"Halt!" A loud roaring voice called out. A castle guard stepped forward from the gate. In a matter of seconds they were surrounded by other guards bearing the Greystone colors - all of whom Kristy recognized. The first guard spoke again, "State your name and your business!" The voice belonged to Sir Will.
William climbed out of the carriage and yelled back, "Baron William of Cranbrook. I've come to return Earl Greystone's wife.
Sir Will's heart sank. 'Tis truth, he'd been dreading this moment. But what could he do? His orders had been very explicit.
His voice shook with extreme nervousness as he recited the order. "I'm sorry, Milord. I have been given the order not to...." He took a deep breath. "I'm not to allow Lady Christiana into Greystone's gates."
"What, you say?" The baron bellowed so loud it seemed to shake the castle walls. "Are you saying that Greystone has forbidden my daughter, your countess, to enter her own castle? This is nonsense!"
Sir Will slipped a finger between his neck and tunic and tugged uncomfortably. "Y-yes milord. This is what I am saying."
Within the carriage Kristy and Nan stared at one another as they listened to the conversation.
"I can't believe this this, milady!" Nan cried. "The guard must have misheard his lordship!"
"No," Kristy answered her thoughtfully. "He has his reasons."
Nan narrowed her shrewd gaze on her. "Milady didn't do anything that might have urged his lordship to act this way, did you?"
Kristy looked out the tiny carriage window and nodded her head. "Yes, I did, Nan. But now I'm going to try to mend the situation."
She was out of the carriage in a flash and running toward the gate, ignoring her father's protest. "Sir Will, lower that bridge and let us come inside," she ordered calmly, then folded her arms across her chest as she awaited them to obey.
"I...I cannot..."
"You don't understand, Sir Will. Tell him that it's Kristy. Tell him his wife has come home for good."
Their was a rumble within the gates but Sir Will only shook his head, uncertain. "'Twill do no good..."
"Christiana, why are the castle gates not opening to us? Why would he deny you entrance?" Lord William asked coming up behind her, his voice accusing.
Kristy sighed as she continued to glare at Sir Will. "I did nothing, Father. Mayhap he is just in a surly mood, or something," she said with a shrug. If only they'd give Darian her message, then he would understand. "Father, I know if Darian could see me, that he would let me in, but they will not tell him I am here."
A mutinous expression came over the Baron's features. "By God, he will know you are here, then!" He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Darian Maxwell! You treacherous blackguard, come out of your cowardly hiding place and face me like a man!" He shouted a few other obscenities and challenges towards the stone castle. His voice ricocheted like flying bullets in the quietness of the night.
Darian would definitely here it. But would he respond.
He would.
Suddenly the castle gates opened and the drawbridge lowered. There in the entrance, across the moat stood her husband. Standing beside him was Vachel, backed up by six other knights. Once of which, Kristy recognized, was the knight who had held her at knife point at Worthingham's castle. That seemed strange to her...
Darian spoke, his voice so cold that it sent a chill rippling down her spine. "Lord William, I hope for you sake, Sir, that there is a good reason for interrupting my supper."
Lord William bristled at his tone and his chin rose a notch. "It is indeed a good reason. I bring you your wife."
A deliberate smirk formed on Darian's face as he ran a pair of icy gray eyes over Kristy's form. "Then you have wasted your time." He turned his back, as to walk back to the castle, his knights turning with him.
"Wait!" The sound of that cry sent a strange feeling right to his heart. He stopped, his whole body stiffening. That voice....it sounded like Christiana - but yet it didn't. Dear God! he missed Kristy so much, he was beginning to imagine things.
He turned back to find her running towards him. His heart quickened. He found himself unable to catch his breath. Could it be...?
The odd expression written on his face made her lose her nerve. She stopped her flight in the middle of the bridge.
The wimple that she had worn on her head had fallen off, her hair was loose about her shoulders in a wild array of waves. Kristy's chest heaved from running, her cheeks flushed.
All Darian could think was that she was the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen. All he wanted to do was grab her and hold her to him.
But at the same time, his thoughts disgusted him that he could feel desire for...HER! That...that brat! The real Christiana! Had his loneliness made him sink so low?
He didn't turn away from her. He simply could not.
They stared at one another for a heart stopping moment. Kristy could tell that he was unsure - that he was battling within himself.
"Darian," her voice floated over to him like a silken caress. "It is I, Kristy. I've come back." she reached down and put a hand on her stomach. "Both of us have come home."
Then he knew.
"Kristy," he murmured in a hoarse breath. "By the Heavens, it is you! Kristy!" It came out a shout this time.
Neither knew who moved first or how it happened, but suddenly they were in each other's arms and kissing like there might be no tomorrow.
Lord William looked on with more than a little shock at the amorous display. He could have sworn they hated each other! He shook his head and walked to wear they stood, clearing his throat.
"Mayhap, we should take this homecoming inside," he stated calmly, a thread of amusement running through his voice.
But his subtle hint was ignored as they continued their tirade of kissing and hugging.
He looked about him and said to the men and Nan who stood their smiling at the couple. "Perhaps we should go inside and leave these two to welcome one another." With that, everyone followed Lord William into the castle, leaving the couple alone to their reunion.
Darian, at last broke away from his and stared down into Kristy's teary eyes. "I thought my mind was playing tricks on me when I heard your voice. But my hear new who you were. My God, I cannot believe you are back here with me."
She lifted her hand and caressed the side of his face, trailing a delicate finger over his handsome full lips. "I thought I'd never see you again. I love so much, Darian. I love..."
His mouth cut off her words as he hungrily plundered her lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading through his thick black tresses.
Darian pulled her closer but it wasn't enough. Frustrated he wretched his lips away and pulled her had to rest beneath his chin. With a chuckle he confessed, "My normal ridged control is vastly loosing ground, my love. If you don't want me to take you our here for all to see, I suggested we join the others in the keep."
For the first time, Kristy realized that they were all alone. "Where did they go?"
He laughed. "They wanted to give us privacy, I suppose. But let us see to your father's comfort, then we shall see to our own," he told her with a wink that made her blush.
Later, as they lay in each other's arms, Kristy told him about Alex and how he'd helped her through her rough two weeks back in the future.
She really shouldn't have.
Jealously reared its ugly head as Darian sat up, dumping her firmly back on her side of the bed. "You would have married this man?" he practically roared...okay he actually did roar!
Kristy winced and sat up. "Not really, but I had to look at all the possibilities. If I'd stayed, or if Christiana had decided that she didn't want to trade back places, Alex offered to marry me for the sake of the baby. Would you have wanted your child to grow up fatherless, Darian? Alex is a descendent - a true Maxwell. If the baby could not have you, then he was the next best thing," she explained.
Darian thought about what she said and knew that she was right, but it still did not sit well with him. "You would have shared a bed with this man?"
Kristy reached out and placed a hand on Darian's roughened cheek. "I don't think that I could ever be with anyone else but you, sweetheart. I love you and only you."
He gathered her into his arms and once again fell back onto the bed. "I don't deserve your love, Kristy. If you had not returned, I would not have blamed you. I treated you horribly before."
Kristy closed her eyes and cuddled her cheek on his brawny chest. "But I forgave you for that long ago, Darian. I could barely get through two weeks without you, how could I live a lifetime without you? It would be no life at all."
Gently he lifted her face to his and he caress her mouth with a soft gentle kiss that made her heart ache with love. "I don't want to live without you either, Kristy. We were meant to be. For always."
"For always," she answered as he covered her mouth once again.

Epilogue

Wood clashed against wood. the two young challengers faced each other, each with steady concentration. The younger of the two, because of a smaller build, knew mere strength would not win the battle, but cunning and strategy would.
An idea formed and the youngest could not help but smile. The eldest narrowed his eyes, sensing the other was up to something.
"Fire!" the youngest cried peering over the eldest's shoulder as he lowered his sword.
"Ha! I'll not fall for such a silly trick. Now lift you sword and fight like a...well...just fight!" The eldest ordered, riding his challengers sword with his own.
"No, no, Alexander. I am serious! Look!" The youngest's voice was filled with fear.
Alarm seized Alexander at the serious tone. He quickly whirled around searching about the bailey. He then felt the rounded point of a smooth wood against his throat.
"Surrender, Alexander! I win!"
Eight year old Alexander Maxwell slapped away the wooden sword as one might shoo a fly and gave his little sister, who was only a year younger than himself, an irritated scowl. "You win only with trickery, Dizzy Lizzy!" he snapped, putting a sarcastic edge to the nickname he knew that she hated.
She swished her light brown braids over her shoulders and pursed her lips, her blue eyes shooting arrows his way. "I won and you are sore with jealously!"
"Jealous over a wee girl like you?" He laughed scornfully. "'Tis more likely the moon will turn green!"
Oh he could make her mad! angry feminine tears pricked her delicate eyelids. That's all she would need, for Alexander to see her cry. Without another word, she spun around and raced off towards the flower garden - the place where she always went to sort her feelings.
Alexander, noting her watery eyes, was instantly chagrined. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. She was always trying so hard to be like him that sometimes, he forgot that she was a girl.
"Hey, Lizzy! Wait!" he called after her and with a few long strides, he had caught up with her. He was already the splitting image of his father and taller than most boys his age.
She ignored him and kept walking towards her favorite spot - the bench surrounded by the rose bushes.
"Aw, I'm sorry, Lizzy. Do not be angry with me." He spread his arms wide on either side of him in a helpless gesture. She is going to make this difficult, he thought with a little exasperation.
Little Elisabeth Maxwell plopped down on the bench and crossed her arms over the soft fabric of her blue tunic. Since her brother had been so apologetic, her tears had dried up. But she was still mad.
Daniel sat down beside her and threw her a side glance. He blew air through his lips in a mock sigh and nudged her shoulder with his.
She nudged him back and looked up, catching his smile. She tried hard not to, but she found herself smiling back.
"Am I forgiven, Sister?"
"Am I the winner, Brother?" she countered.
He let out another breath. "Aye. I'll concede this time, but next time I will not be so easily tricked!"
She gave him a slow conspiring smile and told him, "We shall see."
He let out a loud laugh, much like his father's, and gave her a quick squeeze about the shoulders. It was quick because he did not want his father's knights to see him hugging his sister!
They were about to get up from the bench when they heard their mother's voice.
"Time to come inside, children. The hour is growing late." Kristy smiled when she saw their faces fall. they would stay out there all night if she'd let them.
"Mama, let us stay here, just a while longer, please? We were wanting to see the stars," Daniel pleaded, his sister nodding in agreement.
Stars. she had never said a word to them about her own star gazing moment, but they both seemed to have a fascination with them.
She thought about it a minute then called back, "Stay where you are. We'll enjoy the stars together."
She joined them on the long bench and together they watched as the full moon lit the darkness casting light shadows about them. The stars were bright, shining like little jewels on black velvet.
Alexander, who was always full of questions, asked his mother what stars were good for.
"Well, they are good for a lot of things I suppose. But I know of something they are really good for!" She whispered the last sentence as if it were a secret.
"What? Please tell us!" they both chimed together.
"You can make a wish on a star."
"A wish?" Alexander rolled his eyes. "What good would that do?"
She laughed and ruffled his dark hair. "Lizzy, we have an unbeliever in our midst!"
"Will your wish come true?" Lizzy asked in wonderment.
Alexander gave a snort, which they both ignored. "Sometimes it will. If it is a good wish and it's something that you want with all your heart," his Kristy told him.
Lizzy looked up into the starry sky, thinking fancifully. "You think I can make a wish?"
"Aye, I do," Kristy told her, then reached over and pulled her onto her lap.
Lizzy closed her lids tight, then opened them. "I made one," she announced happily.
Alexander's curiosity had gotten the better of him. "Well, go on! Tell us what you wished."
"Can I?" Lizzy asked her mother, and when she saw her nod, Lizzy leaned toward her brother.
"I wish that our papa would come home, tonight."
Alexander gave another snort. "'Tis a wish that will not come true, Lizzy. Papa is to be gone at least another fortnight."
Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked back at Kristy. "Is it true, Mama? Will my wish not come true? It is something that I want with all my heart."
Kristy's heart broke at the sight of Lizzy's tears. Maybe she shouldn't have started this. Placing a hand on her smooth, soft cheek, she began, "Oh Lizzy. Not every wish comes...."
"But some wishes do come true," a deep voice spoke behind them.
"Papa!" Lizzy crowed as she threw herself into his arms.
Kristy's breath was taken away as she looked at her handsome husband. They'd been married for nine years, yet he still had that effect on her.
Suddenly Darian looked up and their eyes met. His warm gray eyes lit up as he held out his hand to her. Automatically she went to him and let him enfold her into his one arm embrace, while the other wrapped around their children. This is what she'd dreamed of all those years ago when she'd wished upon a star. This was her dream come true.
"Lizzy got her wish, my love," he whispered in her ear. "Did you receive your own?"
She kissed him softly and lovingly and looked deep into his eyes. "Having you here with me is my constant wish." Their lips met once more. "I missed you, my love. I'm glad that you came back early."
He smiled at her and hugged them all closer. "I could not stay away."
Just as they were about to go into the keep, Kristy could have sworn she saw someone standing off to the side of the wall. But when she looked again, there was nothing there. There was no time to think about that, however. She was anxious to be alone with her husband.
But then, Darian stopped, just inside the door. Curiously, Kristy studied her husbands thoughtful expression. He turned and looked up into the sky, smiled, then looked back to his wife.
"What was that all about?" she asked, wondering about the smug smile that was playing about his handsome face.
"I just made a wish," he said simply.
"What was it?"
He brought his hand up to her cheek and caressed it softly. "That this love, this passion we hold for one another will never cease. That even when our hair has turned gray and our faces creased with age, that the fire will burn just as bright between us."
"Oh, Darian, that is just so romantic," Kristy cried softly, as he pulled her into the keep, closing the door.
Jubal stepped out from his hiding place with his trademark serene smile curving his mouth. He sighed *******ly as he watched the happy family disappear from his view.
He nodded to himself thoughtfully, then spoke just one word.
"Granted."
The End

merci ma belle te ta mervaille histoire eel est vraiment tres belle

تعرفى دكتور (موش عارفة العربى بتاع اسمك يكون ايه بصراحة بس حسيت من الاختصار انه طبى md (ولا انا غلطانة ؟؟ موش مهم
ارجع للموضوع المفروض انك تترجميها وتنزليها بالقسم العربى عشان ناس اكتر تقراها

انا بصراحة متحمسة جدا واثرت فيا اوى على تقولى يوسف السباعى هههههههههههههههههه

وبجد فيها حكمة جميييييييلة لا فظيعة

انا بشكرك تانى عليها وابقى اكتبلنا اسم الدلع بتاعك عشان انا موش عارفة ادلع اسمك ايه ؟؟؟؟؟

شكرا دوللى ايوه كده اسم اعرف اقراه

wow idont know what to say but thanx alot 4 the wonderful novel

انت الاجمل حبيبتي انا بنزل علي الكمبيوتر و بعدين اقرا مبستحملش اقرا اون لاين بيبقي بطيء قوي:flowers2: :flowers2: :flowers2: :flowers2: :flowers2: :flowers2: :flowers2:

u r wellcome:flowers2:

u r wellcome hope u enjoyed it:flowers2: :flowers2: :flowers2:

الحقيقه قصه رائعه جدا
شكرا

one of the best
i ever read

thanx alot sis
^.^

thanks a lot
it is one of the best novels i've ever read
i enjoyed reading every single chapter....
it is the real romance