Chapter 20 #2
Silence descended. He watched her and suspected he knew exactly where her thoughts were taking her.
“Does that ga—” She had to clear her throat. “Does that gate in the forest go to medieval times, do you think?”
“I do.”
“And you think my parents could have gone through it?”
“I know they did,” he said quietly, “because I saw your mother’s hair covering on the opposite side of it.”
She caught her breath. “And you didn’t say anything when we were there?”
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“But if all of this is true, they could have gotten lost in any number of centuries!”
“They could have,” he agreed, “but I’ll find them.”
“How?” she whispered.
“Years of practice,” he said honestly. “But this is why I truly think it would be better if I took you back to Bradford to stay with Theo.”
“No.”
“Harriet—”
“They’re my parents, Sam. And I can be your scribe—no, how about a monk? Can I dress up as a monk and not be out of place if I’m just trailing after you? Or how about your squire instead?”
He looked heavenward briefly and ruthlessly ignored how ill the thought of her wandering around in medieval England left him, more particularly if she up and went on her own. It was no wonder his father was so unyielding about his mother’s security.
“You are far too lovely to ever pass for a lad,” he said, forcing himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. “That, and I would be absolutely barking to take you along.”
“I’m not giving you a choice.”
He imagined she thought exactly that, though he would have left her behind in the first safe place he could have managed if he’d known she wouldn’t immediately try to follow after him.
And the truth was, whilst he couldn’t say traveling through time wasn’t without its perils, he had vats of experience at getting himself out of sticky situations with his head still atop his neck. He could do that with her by his side as well.
Surely.
He cleared his throat. “If I take you—”
“Which you will.”
“If I take you,” he repeated, again trying to imagine how his father might have announced an equally non-negotiable decision, “we are going to have rules that you will follow without hesitation and without question.”
“Of course.” She started to speak, then shut her mouth at the sound of the doorbell. She gestured at him. “You go answer it. I’ll stay here and guard the weapons—actually on second thought, I’d better come with you and keep you safe.” She popped up out of her chair. “Let’s go, sir knight.”
He had the feeling he was going to have more trouble with her than he’d feared, but he couldn’t deny how pleasant it was to have her slip her hand into his as they walked down the passageway.
He glanced at her as they stopped near the front door and realized it hadn’t been just from affection that she was holding onto him.
“I wasn’t going to run off,” he grumbled.
“Just making sure.” She looked up at him. “Want me to go get your sword? Squires do that, don’t they?”
He closed his eyes briefly, then turned and pulled her into his arms. He babbled something silently inside his empty head about ships and distances to be kept, but those thoughts were becoming increasingly unpalatable.
“I’ll keep you safe without any steel,” he promised. He released her, shot her a look that earned him a brisk nod, then pulled her behind him as he turned to face the door.
He cursed himself yet again for not having installed a spyhole months ago, then opened the door without putting his face in the crack to have it possibly ruined by someone else’s blade.
He was thoroughly unsurprised to find it was only Jackson come to call, apparently without any compunction about pushing his way inside their flat.
Sam stepped back to avoid the door ruining his visage and supposed the only reason he hadn’t knocked Harriet over was that she had jumped back as well. He looked at her over his shoulder.
“That was well done,” he noted.
She smiled. “Told you I’d be useful.”
“Oh, nay, there’ll be none of that,” Jackson said, pushing his way fully into the vestibule. “Sam, leave the girl in peace.” He shut the door firmly, locked it, then rubbed his hands together. “So, where are we?”
“He told me his birthdate,” Harriet said. “I am now past surprise.”
Sam sighed as Jackson elbowed him aside and led Harriet back to the kitchens. He followed, then watched Jackson see Harriet seated before he made himself comfortable in the chair Sam had apparently just lost.
Sam decided the most useful thing he could do was make more tea to replace what Harriet had spilled, poor gel, so he busied himself and suppressed the urge to bean his cousin over the head with the kettle before he said something stupid.
“What else has Sam told you thus far?”
“He thinks my parents may have stepped into a faery ring and are now cavorting in medieval England without supervision. Then again, perhaps the whole thing was a magic show being practiced by the conference people and everything Sam’s told me today is pure fantasy.
” She looked at Jackson carefully. “Sleight of hand and all that.”
Jackson shook his head. “Sam’s not good at that. When he’s in trouble, he counts on his unholy ability to outrun anyone who chases him. I’ve tried. He’s very fast.”
“I’ve very fast, too,” Harriet said.
Sam looked over his shoulder at her. “My legs are longer.”
“And I’ll tie your shoelaces together while you’re distracted by admiring your highlights in the nearest mirror. You won’t get far.”
Jackson smiled, then sent him a look he didn’t mistake for anything but support. Sam nodded in appreciation of the same, then looked at Harriet.
“I’ll go find gear for you, then we’ll review my rules in the car if Jackson and our good chauffeur would be so kind as to ferry us north.”
Jackson rose, helped Harriet up, then looked at him. “What do you need from me?”
“No more bruises until we’re safely back?”
Jackson sighed lightly. “If I must. But you realize the sun will have set by the time we’ve gotten ourselves that far north again, don’t you?”
Sam looked at Harriet but she was only watching him as if she trusted him. He considered, then looked at his cousin.
“I’ll go fetch takeaway, then,” he said, “and we’ll try to sleep for a few hours. Is Rufus willing to take us in the middle of the night, do you think?”
“Without question,” Jackson said. “And leave me to sorting supper whilst you two choose your gear and set your rules. ‘Tis May not November, so at least Harriet’s parents won’t be suffering too greatly from the cold. We’ll have you to the gate well before dawn and you can do what’s necessary.”
Sam didn’t like the thought of leaving Harriet’s parents alone in a time not their own for longer than necessary, but he also didn’t want to go looking for them in the dark.
He only hoped he wouldn’t come to regret that decision.
In the end, dawn was breaking as he stood just inside the forest with Harriet, both of them dressed in the appropriate garb for a trip back to his time.
The gate was there and open, which he appreciated.
He was equally relieved to find Petunia Brewster’s headgear still lingering on the far side of that portal where he’d last seen it.
He exchanged a look with his cousin, then turned to Harriet to find her eyeing him suspiciously.
He would have held up his hands, but he wasn’t entirely certain she wouldn’t wrestle his sword away and stab him with it.
“What?” he managed.
“If you try to leave me behind now at the last minute,” she said seriously, “I’ll steal a sword, find you, and turn you into a s’more.”
He frowned. “A what?”
“A s’more is a roasted marshmallow nestled lovingly between two pieces of chocolate that are captured between two equally delicious graham crackers.”
Jackson laughed briefly. “Mistress Brewster—”
“Harriet,” she corrected, glancing at him briefly with a smile.
“Harriet,” he amended. “If I might offer an observation, Harriet, it would be that young Samuel is particularly distracted by tasty edibles, so you’ve chosen a wise opening move there.
You should also keep in mind that he’s never had the courage to venture beyond our shores to see what sorts of delicacies are to be found in other places—”
“And you have?” Sam said with a snort.
“Several times,” Jackson said easily, “to several far-flung locales. My frequent-flier accounts are robustly supplied with miles, unlike yours.”
Harriet looked at Sam in surprise. “You’ve never been on a plane?”
“I’ve been busy,” he muttered.
“Well, you could begin by flying to Nebraska to visit my parents after we’ve found them. I’m sure they’d be happy to see you.”
Jackson laughed softly. Sam wasn’t sure why his cousin thought that was so amusing, but he did know that he was going to repay Jackson for his mirth the first chance he had.
He glared at his cousin, then looked back at his lady.
He couldn’t say he had many skills to call on whilst trying to comfort female companions, but contrary to what his cousins might have thought, he wasn’t a complete numpty when it came to women.
Harriet was, despite her fierce words, unsettled and in need of reassurance, so he took her hands in both his own.
“I won’t simply up and leave you behind,” he said quietly, “though ‘tisn’t too late to stay with Jackson. I wouldn’t think any less of you if you did.”
She shook her head sharply. “I’m going with you.” She paused. “You won’t—” Her voice cracked. “You won’t leave me once we’re there though, right?”
Sam felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. “I wouldn’t think to,” he said in a low voice.
“But if we get separated?”
“Should the unthinkable happen,” he said, “pretend to be a slightly terrified noblewoman and get yourself to Wyckham Castle. You will find refuge there and I will come and fetch you. But you needn’t worry about that because I will never leave you.”