A Knight's Vow Part 6

"What will you do?"

"Well, I had thought to climb over the wall in the night and murder my sire before he was the wiser, then

rout out his men before the whole keep was awake and had raised arms against me.""Sounds dangerous," she said breathlessly.He shrugged. "I've done it before with great success."That thought was enough to push her over the edge. To think he had done something that perilous and could discuss it so casually was astounding. So she made the only response she could."Hic," she said. "Hic-hic.""Ah, by the saints," he said with a half laugh. "I can see how you feel about that.""Sorry-hic-hic"" 'Tis in the past, Julianna." He sighed and dragged his free hand through his hair. "Saints, but I cannot think of it now. 'Tis a pity, though, for it made me a good warrior.""Climbing over-hic-walls?"He shook his head. "Nay, lady. Having no one to care for but myself.""What's changed?" she asked. "Find someone recently?"And then she clapped her hand over her mouth on the pretense of trying to stop her hiccups. In reality, it was the only way she could stop the words that seemed to be spewing out of her mouth without her permission.

William stopped and turned to look at her. She found, suddenly, that the words had ceased to flow as quickly as they'd started to. Even her hiccups disappeared. A silence fell until all she could hear was the call of the occasional bird and a bit of wind blowing gently through the trees. But she couldn't look to see where the wind was blowing or what birds were carrying on their sporadic conversations. All she could do was look at the man in front of her: a medieval knight with a sword at his side and her bag over his shoulder who was looking at her with an intensity that left her weak.

"Aye," he said at length. "I have."

"Really," she managed. "Who? Peter?"

He shook his head.

"The priest?"

He shook his head again, and d.a.m.n him if he didn't reach out, slide his hand under her hair again and

move closer to her. Julianna swallowed with a gulp. She wanted to get a definitive answer out of him, but she found herself becoming quite distracted by his hand tangling gently in her hair. It was a most mesmerizing feeling, and she found herself absorbed by it-and the sheer amazement that she'd actually found someone who was single, handsome and gallant. Never mind that he was in the wrong century entirely.

He smiled down at her, and she thought the sheer wattage of that smile might just start up her unfortunate reaction again. But before she could catch her breath to make any kind of hiccuping noise, he bent his head and kissed her.

Heck, who needed to breathe?

"Perhaps," he said at length, when he lifted his mouth from hers, "our good priest had more sense than I suspected in the wording of his vow."

"Were you supposed to rescue a maiden in distress?" she asked, wondering if he would notice if she

started to fan herself. Who knew that kissing out in the rain could generate such internal heat?

"Aye, I was."

"And rescue her from dragons?" she added, wondering in addition if he could feel her knees becoming

wobbly.

"There was nothing about dragons. I suspect the only foul thing I will be rescuing you from is the

foodstuffs and drink in your sack." He smiled down at her. "Let me be about the reclaiming of my hall, then we'll see to a decent meal or two."

All right, so it wasn't a proposal. It was an invitation to dinner, and who knew where that might lead?

Besides, Julianna was starting to wonder about the advisability of living on bottled water and carob-covered fruits and vegetables. The sooner William got on with his little project, the better as far as she was concerned.

"I have a stun gun you could use," she offered.

"How does it go about its work?"

"You poke someone with it and it leaves them senseless and drooling."

"So does my sword," he said. "Let us go back. I'll manage well enough on my own."

Maybe it was for the best. For all she knew, William would point the thing the wrong way and there he'd

be, senseless and drooling, and then she and Peter would be the ones trying to pick up his sword and do damage with it.

"So," she said, as they walked back to the hall, "what's next?"

"I daresay I have little choice but to climb over the wall and murder him in his bed."

She stopped still. "You said you weren't-"

He bent his head and kissed her again so quickly, she didn't see it coming. And when he stopped and

simply looked down at her, she found she just couldn't say anything at all.

"I'll return," he said.

"But-"

"I'll return, Julianna. I vow it with my life."

Great. She had just hooked herself up with a medieval knight bent on murder and mayhem. Her mother

would have fainted dead away at the thought.She wondered in pa.s.sing how Elizabeth would have reacted to the news: Oh, by the way, on my way to your castle, I paused in the Middle Ages and found myself being rescued by a knight. A very handsome, attentive, manly knight... She very much suspected Elizabeth wouldn't have been surprised. But she wondered what Elizabeth's advice would have been. Stay in the past, or try to get home? Hmmm, ask a complete romantic if she should fall in love, or go back home and look for a dead-end job?

Julianna wondered absently if she could survive the rest of her life without a flush toilet.

Or with a man who thought nothing of risking his life in the seemingly riskiest of ways. Well, if she was going to be any good at this time period, she would just have to suck it up and trust him. She took a deep breath.

"All right," she said, lifting her chin. "Do what you have to." "You'll be here when I return?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to say Where else would I go, but she stopped herself just in time.

She took another breath. The pond was deep and she had no idea what was lurking on the bottom, but there was no sense in not jumping in with both feet.

"I'll be here." She paused. "And that's my choice."

He smiled again, and she wondered why in the world he didn't have a line a mile long of girls waiting for that look. Then again, maybe he didn't show it to very many people.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asked.

"Women?" He looked dumbfounded. "Dozens."

"Why didn't you marry any of them?"

He laughed and shook his head. "By the saints, lady, you have no fear of me, do you? That isn't a question many would dare ask."

She only waited. If he had some major flaw, it was best she know about it now.

"I'm not overly wealthy," he said, looking amused. "I have too many scars from battle. Or perhaps 'tis I was waiting for the Future to spew you back at me. Does that satisfy?"

Before she could find any good response to that, he had kissed her again and then was leading her back

to the chapel, still shaking his head and smiling.

What else could she do but the same?

seven.

William stood in the shadows of the trees and looked at the keep before him. He realized with wry amus.e.m.e.nt that he'd stood in the same place the day before, staring in much the same way, but with far different thoughts. He'd wanted his keep, to be certain, but he'd been driven to action by thoughts of the manly comforts of a warm fire, a well-manned garrison, and lists for his pleasure.

Odd how the pa.s.sage of a single day could change a heart so.

He still wanted his keep, of course, and lists for himself and his garrison, but added to that was the thought of hearth and home for a wife and children-one wife in particular, that is.

He eased back into the forest and made his way silently around the perimeter of the castle, making a mental note to clear more trees when the keep was finally his. 'Twas far too easy for an enemy to hide himself in such substantial growth, even if William found himself obliged a time or two to crawl on his belly to take advantage of the cover of smaller bushes and things.

He crept around to the back of the keep and waited for a goodly while to make certain there was no stray guard haunting the walls. He saw no movement, but that didn't satisfy him. He had a very good reason to keep himself alive, and he suspected that reason would be pa.s.sing angry with him if he left her stranded with Peter and the priest. He tightened the strap that bound his sword to his back and felt himself begin to smile in spite of the seriousness of his situation. By the saints, the woman was fascinating. Not only was she looking more beautiful to him by the heartbeat, but she could read.

Perhaps she had learned that in the Future as well.

By the saints, he could scarce fathom such a thing as a body traveling from another time. But he could fathom her in his bed, next to him at supper and bearing him a dozen children with riotous hair and eyes so blue they would hurt a man to look in them.

And if he could hope for the latter, perhaps he could believe the former.

All of which left him where he was at present-preparing to scale his own walls and rid his keep of his unwelcome and certainly uninvited guests so he could proceed with the rest of his life.

He sighed deeply and steeled himself for what was to come. It would have been easier with a ladder, or a rope for that matter, but those things came with the price of possible discovery, which he was unwilling to pay. He would have to find what finger- and toeholds he could, and pray his eyes had told him true that such things actually existed on the scarred outer walls. He had exceptionally strong hands, which was a boon, and his boots were worn clear through to the toes, which was also a boon at present. And he'd scaled less inviting walls than this with no more than his own poor form as his only aid.

So, taking advantage of the last bit of darkness before dawn, he slipped from shadow to shadow and approached the wall.

It was easier than he'd dared hope, which left him cursing silently at the sorry state of his keep's outer defenses. He would have to see to them at his earliest opportunity. Until he had sufficient men to guard those walls, they would need to be an una.s.sailable s.h.i.+eld.

He slithered over the wall and dropped into a crouch on the parapet. His heart raced at the sight of a guardsman he'd narrowly avoided knocking off. The man turned and died before he had the chance to shout a warning. William did not slay him gladly, for he very much suspected that if the men had a choice between him and his sire, they would choose him. But he couldn't allow himself to be discovered, not when the first difficulty had been overcome so quickly.

He pushed the body close to the wall, that it might not be noticed right off, then inspected the inner bailey. From what he could see, his uncle hadn't done justice to the sorry condition of things. The buildings were falling down and the courtyard was covered with piles of what he was sure would eventually reveal themselves to be refuse and waste. He shuddered to think what the inside of the keep would look like.

But 'twas his, this pile of stones, and he would have it-gladly.

He looked up at the sky and was surprised to find that night was waning. Obviously he'd spent more time pondering than he should have. Well, there was naught to be done about it but proceed as quickly as he dared before dawn. Given what he'd observed over the past few days, there weren't all that many souls to be rising and working, but a rooster crowed whether its master willed it or not. 'Twas best he was about his business whilst he still had some cover of darkness to aid him.

He clouted another man into insensibility as he made his way along the walls toward the steps that slid down into the courtyard, but he saw no other man and heard no shout of warning.

There was something rather unsettling about that, on the whole.

He looked for a way into the keep, but saw none but the hall door. It left him with little choice but to enter thereby. He took a final look about the bailey, saw no movement coming even from the poor huts