A Knight in Shining Armor

  But that was not the way with this Dougless. She would be one to give love, and to love with all her being. That man Robert had had some of her love, but, obviously, he was too stupid to know what to do with it. Nicholas could see that the man used Dougless, played with her love, and enjoyed his control over her.

  Nicholas took a step toward her. If he, Nicholas, had her love, he would know what to do with it. He would—

  No! he told himself, then looked away. No, he could not let her love him. When he left this modern world, she would be overcome with grief. Nicholas would not like to return and think of her here alone, think of her loving a man who’d been dead over four hundred years.

  Therefore, he had to find a way to make her stop loving him. He couldn’t feign anger and send her away because he needed her knowledge of this foreign world. But, at the same time, he couldn’t bear to think of leaving her behind in misery. He had to find a way to stop her love, and it had to be a way she could understand, a way that related to her world, not his.

  Smiling at the absurdity of the idea, Nicholas thought that perhaps he could tell her he was in love with another woman. That usually set women off in any century. But who? Arabella? He almost laughed aloud when he thought of the postcard Dougless had bought. Perhaps a woman she’d not heard of would be better. Alice? Elizabeth? Jane? Ah, dear little Jane.

  He stopped smiling. What about Lettice?

  In love with his wife?

  Nicholas hadn’t thought of that cold-eyed bitch in weeks. When he had been arrested for treason, Lettice had started looking for a new husband.

  Could he make Dougless believe he was in love with his wife? That movie had shown people marrying for love. Perhaps if he told Dougless he wanted to go back because he loved his wife so much . . . He could not believe Dougless would consider love more important than honor, but this age was very strange to him.

  Now all he had to do was find a place and time to tell her.

  He had made his decision, but it didn’t make him feel better. Quietly, he left the room. He’d go to the coin dealer and see about selling more of the coins. Tomorrow, they would go to Thornwyck Castle and start finding the answers to his questions.

  With one last look at Dougless, he left the room.

  Dougless awoke with a start, and when she saw she was alone, a sense of panic gripped her, but she calmed herself. Then the scene with Robert came back to her. Had she done the right thing? Should she have gone with him? After all, Robert did apologize—sort of. He’d explained why he’d left her: he thought she was refusing to travel with him, and maybe Gloria had picked up her handbag innocently.

  Dougless put her hands to her head. Everything was so confusing. What did she mean to Robert? To Nicholas? What did these men mean to her? Why had Nicholas come to her? Why not to someone else? Why not to someone who wasn’t confused about everything in her life?

  The door opened and Nicholas came in smiling. “I have sold but a few of the coins and we are rich!” he said.

  Smiling back at him, she remembered the way he’d pushed Robert out the door. Was this man her Knight in Shining Armor? Had he been sent to her because she just plain needed him so much?

  Her look seemed to annoy Nicholas, for he turned away, frowning. “Shall we have supper?” he asked.

  As they walked through the village on their way to an Indian restaurant their landlady had recommended, they were both quiet, each thinking hard on their own thoughts. Once they were at the restaurant, Nicholas gave himself over to the food. He loved the flavors of the cumin, coriander, garam masala, and cinnamon all mixed together. As he ate, Dougless saw envious looks directed toward them from several women at nearby tables. Out of interest, and partly to keep him from looking at the women, she asked him what food they ate in 1564, and was it very different from food in the twentieth century?

  He talked, but Dougless didn’t really listen. Instead, she looked at his eyes and his hair, and watched the way his hands moved. He wasn’t going to leave this century, she thought. She’d wished him forward and he’d come to her. She knew enough about him to know that he was the man she’d always wanted: kind, thoughtful, funny, strong, a man who knew what he wanted.

  By the end of dinner, Nicholas had grown quiet and something seemed to be worrying him. They were silent as they walked back to the bed-and-breakfast. Nor did he want to talk once they were in their room. He didn’t even want Dougless to read to him. When he went to bed, he turned away from her without so much as a good night.

  Dougless lay awake for a long time, trying to puzzle out what had happened to her in the last few days. She had cried and begged for a Knight in Shining Armor and Nicholas had come to her. That one fact seemed to prove that he was hers and she was meant to keep him.

  Near midnight, just as she was finally dozing, she was startled by sounds from Nicholas. She smiled, knowing he was again having a bad dream. Still smiling, she went to him and climbed into bed beside him. At once he clasped her in his arms and immediately fell into a peaceful sleep. Dougless snuggled close, her cheek on his furred chest, and contentedly went to sleep. Let what is to be, happen, she thought.

  When Nicholas awoke it was daylight, and when he realized Dougless was in his arms, he knew his dreams had come true. She fit his body as though they were carved from one piece of earth. What was the word she used? Telepathy. There was a feeling between them, a deep bond that he’d never come close to feeling with another woman.

  Putting his face in her hair, he breathed deeply, and his hands began to caress her. He’d never felt such lust as he felt for her, never even known such lust existed.

  “Give me strength,” he prayed, “strength to do what I must. And forgive me,” he whispered.

  He hoped he could do what he had to, but first he wanted to taste her, just this once, this one and only time; then never again would he allow himself to touch her.

  He kissed her hair, her neck, his tongue on her smooth skin. His hand ran up her arm, then covered her breast. Nicholas’s heart was in his ears.

  Waking, Dougless turned in his arms to kiss him—a kiss such as she’d never experienced before. The other half of me, she thought. What I have been missing all my life is this man. He’s the other half of me.

  “Lettice,” Nicholas murmured near her ear.

  Their legs were entwined, their arms clasping one another. Dougless smiled, her head back as Nicholas placed hot kisses on her neck and throat. “I’ve been called . . . Carrots,” she said, breathless, “for my hair, but never lettuce.”

  “Lettice is . . .” He was kissing down her throat, lower and lower. “Lettice is my wife.”

  “Mmm,” Dougless murmured as his hand caressed her breast and his lips went lower.

  What he’d said hit her suddenly. She pushed away to look at him. “Wife?” she asked.

  Nicholas pulled her back to him. “We care naught for her now.”

  She pushed away from him again. “You seem to care about her enough to say her name when you’re kissing me.”

  “A mere slip,” he said, pulling her toward him.

  Dougless shoved at him hard, then got out of bed and straightened her unbuttoned gown. “Why don’t you explain to me about this wife of yours?” she demanded angrily. “And why haven’t I heard of her before? I know you had a child, but you said the mother had died.”

  Nicholas sat up in bed, the sheet to his waist. “There was no reason to tell of my wife. Her beauty, her talents, and my love for her are private to me.” He picked up Dougless’s watch off the table. “Perhaps today we will purchase me such as this.”

  “Put that down!” Dougless snapped. “This is serious. I think you owe me an explanation.”

  “Explain to you?” Nicholas said, getting out of bed, wearing only a pair of tiny briefs. He pulled on his trousers, then turned to her as he fastened them. “Pray, madam, who are you? Are you a duke’s daughter? An earl’s? Even a baron’s? I am the earl of Thornwyck, and you are my servant. You work f
or me. In return, I feed you and clothe you, and perhaps, if you are worth it, I will mayhap give you a small stipend. I have no obligation to tell you of my own life.”

  Dougless sat down hard on the bed. “But you never mentioned a wife,” she said softly. “Not once have you referred to her.”

  “I would be a poor husband to profane my beloved’s name to my servant.”

  “Servant,” Dougless whispered. “Do you love her very much?”

  Nicholas snorted. “She is the true reason I must return. I must find the truth, then return to my loving wife’s arms.”

  Dougless was having difficulty understanding what she was hearing. Robert yesterday and today finding that Nicholas had a wife—a wife he loved madly—was more than she could handle. “I don’t understand,” she said, burying her face in her hands. “I wished you here. I prayed for you. Why did you come to me if you love someone else?”

  “You prayed on my tomb. Perhaps if anyone had done that—man or woman—I would have come forth. Perhaps God knew I would need a servant and you needed work. I do not know. All I do know is that I must return.”

  “To your wife?”

  “Aye, to my wife.”

  She turned to look at him. “And what of this?” she asked, motioning to the bed.

  “Madam, you placed yourself in my bed. I am but a man, therefore I am weak.”

  As understanding came to Dougless, she began to feel deeply embarrassed. Was there any woman on earth who was a bigger fool than she was? Was there any man on earth she hadn’t fallen in love with? Let her spend three days with a man and she began to imagine a life together. If Attila the Hun or Jack the Ripper had come forward, she’d no doubt have fallen in love with him. With her luck, she’d be in love with Genghis Khan in two days.

  She stood up. “Look, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. Of course you have a wife. A beautiful wife and three lovely kids. I don’t know what I was thinking of. You were on death row and married. I’m used to guys with only one major strike against them. I just seem to get luckier and luckier. I’ll get my things and get out of here. You go back to Mrs. Stafford and have a swell life.”

  He blocked the entrance to the bathroom. “You mean to unkiss the bargain?”

  “‘Unkiss’?” she asked, voice rising. “Again with the ‘unkiss.’ Yes, I mean to unkiss, unhug, un-whatever else it needs. You don’t need me, not when you have lovely Lettice and Arabella-on-the-table.”

  When Nicholas moved toward her, his voice lowered seductively. “If our interrupted love play annoys you, we may return to the bed.”

  “Not on your life, buster,” she said, eyes blazing. “Put one hand on me and you draw back a bloody nub.”

  Nicholas put his hand over his jaw to hide a smile. “I see no cause for your anger. I have represented myself truly. I need help in searching for the person who betrayed me. I want to find the information and return to my home. I have never been false with you.”

  Dougless turned away. He was right. He’d never been secretive in any way. She was the one who’d imagined castles in the sky and their living happily ever after. Idiot, idiot, idiot, she told herself.

  She turned back to him. “I’m sorry about all this. Maybe you should get someone else to help you. I’ve got my passport now, and my plane ticket, so I think I’d better go home.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said. “I see. You are a coward.”

  “I am no such thing. It’s just . . .”

  “You have fallen in love with me,” he said with a sigh of resignation. “All the women do. It is a curse that plagues me much. I cannot spend three days with a woman and not have her come to my bed. Think not on it. I do not blame you.”

  “You don’t blame me?” Anger was beginning to replace Dougless’s self-pity. “Listen, mister! You overrate your charms by a long shot. You don’t know what women are like today. Any liberated women could live in the same house with you and not fall for you. We don’t like conceited, puffed-up peacocks like you.”

  “Oh?” he said, one eyebrow raised. “It is just you who is different? In just three days’ time you are in my bed.”

  “For your information, I was trying to settle you down after a nightmare. I thought I was comforting you. Like a mother and child.”

  Nicholas smiled. “Comfort? You may comfort me any morn you wish.”

  “Save it for your wife. Now, will you get out of the way? I need to get dressed and get out of here.”

  He put his hand on her arm. “You are angry at me that I kissed you?”

  “I’m angry at you because . . .” She turned away. Why was she angry at him? He’d awakened and found her in his bed and he’d started kissing her. Before today, he hadn’t made a pass at her; he hadn’t been anything but a gentleman. Never once had he even hinted that they were more than employer and employee.

  It was she who’d made everything up. Out of his teasings, out of the laughter they’d shared and, especially, out of her hurt over Robert, she’d imagined more between them than there was.

  “I’m not angry at you at all,” she said. “I’m mad at myself. I guess I was on the rebound.”

  “‘Rebound’?”

  “Sometimes when you get jilted, or abandoned as I was, you want to jump right back on the train.” He still looked puzzled. “I thought maybe you could replace Robert. Or maybe I just wanted to go home with a ring on my finger. If I went home engaged, maybe I wouldn’t have too many questions asked about the man I left America with and what happened to him.”

  She looked up at him. “I’m sorry for what I thought. Maybe you better get someone else to help you.”

  “I understand. You could not resist me. It is as the guide said. No woman can withstand me.”

  Dougless groaned. “I could withstand you all right. Now that I know the true extent of your enormous ego, I could live with you and not fall for you.”

  “You could not.”

  “I could, and I’ll prove it. I’ll find your secret for you, and even if it takes years, I won’t even be tempted by you.” She narrowed her eyes. “You have any more bad dreams and wake me up, I’ll throw a pillow at you. Now will you let me in the bathroom?”

  Nicholas stepped aside, and she angrily closed the door behind her, but he couldn’t help grinning at the door. Ah, Dougless, he thought, my sweet, sweet Dougless. You may be able to resist me, but how will I resist you? A year together? A year without touching you? I will go mad.

  He turned away to finish dressing.

  TEN

  The long black car made its way south through the beautiful English countryside. In the backseat Nicholas looked across at Dougless. She was sitting stiffly upright. Her lovely, thick auburn hair was pulled tightly back to the nape of her neck and put in what she told him was called a bun. Since this morning she had not smiled or laughed or made any comment except, “Yes, sir,” or “No, sir.”

  “Dougless,” he said. “I—”

  She cut him off. “I believe, Lord Stafford, we have already discussed this. I am Miss Montgomery—not Mistress Montgomery—your secretary, no more, no less. If you will remember that, sir, it will prevent people from thinking that I am more to you than I am.”

  Turning away, he sighed. He could think of nothing to say to her, and actually, he knew this attitude was the better way, but already, he missed her.

  Moments later his attention was caught by the tower of Thornwyck Castle, and he found his heart beginning to beat a little faster. He had designed this place. He had taken what he knew and loved of every house he’d ever seen, improved on every idea, and created this beautiful house. It had taken four years to cut the stone and to ship the marble from Italy. Among his many ideas, in the inner courtyard he had built towers with curved glass in them.

  Thornwyck Castle had been only half finished when he was arrested, but the half that was completed had been as beautiful as any building in the land.

  Nicholas frowned as the driver turned into the drive. Now, his house looked so o
ld. Just a month ago he had been here, and then it had been new and perfect. Now the chimney pots were crumbling, there were broken places along the roof, and some of his windows had been bricked in.

  “It’s beautiful,” Dougless whispered, then straightened, “sir.”

  “It is crumbling,” Nicholas said in anger. “And were the western towers never completed? I drew the plans. Did no one see them?”

  When the car stopped, Nicholas got out and looked around. To his mind, it was a sad place, the unfinished half in ruins, the other half looking hundreds of years old—which it was, he thought with dismay.

  When he turned back, Dougless had already entered the hotel lobby, two boys behind her carrying their luggage. “Lord Stafford will want early tea at eight A.M.,” she was telling the desk clerk. “And he takes luncheon promptly at noon, but I must be given a menu beforehand.” She turned to him. “Would you like to sign the register, my lord, or should I?”

  Nicholas gave her a quelling look, warning her with his eyes to stop her pompous behavior. He’d seen enough of the modern world to know that she was acting strangely. But Dougless turned away, acting as though she hadn’t seen his look. Nicholas quickly signed the guest book in an unreadable scrawl; then the clerk led them to their suite.

  The room was beautiful, with dark rose-colored wallpaper and a four-poster bed hung with rose and yellow chintz. A little couch in yellow and pale green sat at the foot of the bed on a rose-colored carpet. Through an arched-top doorway was a small sitting room decorated in shades of rose and pale green.

  “I will need a cot put in here,” Dougless said, indicating the sitting room.

  “A cot?” the clerk asked.

  “Of course. For me to sleep on. You did not think that I would sleep in his lordship’s chamber, did you?”

  Nicholas rolled his eyes. Even in his own time this behavior would be strange.

  “Yes, miss,” the clerk said. “I will have a cot sent up.” He left them alone.

  “Dougless,” Nicholas began.