Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Each day they rode, Anna admired the scenery and hoped they would find someone to purchase a hot meal from. In her own time, she was inside a lot. Working three jobs did that, so at first all the time outdoors was fun. After several days it became monotonous and she dreamed of cars and trains. Being on a horse all day was very different from being on her feet all day.

At night they slept wrapped up in blankets on the ground after a meager dinner. The night before, when they slept in a barn after a hot meal, it had rivaled staying in her hotel in London. The days passed and the landscape changed. Fog rolled in. Anna kept imagining werewolves running across the creepy moors.

She didn’t date much, had never spent so much time alone with a man. No distractions of any kind. There was something to be said for no phones. They had time to really get to know each other. He told her how he became the bandit, and some of his funnier adventures. Like the carriage they held up thinking they would find gold inside. Instead the woman inside had two pigs with her, both wearing jewels and dressed up.

Being an outlaw explained why he knew the men he killed were lying. At least since that terrible experience happened almost two weeks ago, they hadn’t run into any other thieves. And still no sign of the men chasing them. She hoped they’d gotten tired of the chase and gone home.

“Won’t the king send men to your home? Wouldn’t it be the first place they look for us?”

“I lived there a long time ago. The men would not think me so daft as to go home. ’Twill buy us time to find somewhere safe.”

What was that smell? It had been with them since yesterday. She sniffed the horse. No, he smelled like a horse. Leaning back, she turned her head and smelled John. Yuck. He was part of the bad smell, but not all of it. No. It couldn’t be.

Discreetly, she lifted her arm, playing with her hair. Anna turned her head and sniffed at her armpit.

“This is worse than a pool full of alligators. I stink.”

The rumble behind her made Anna flinch.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

His chest vibrated against her back, but to his credit he didn’t laugh out loud.

“Aye. You smell fine to me.” He purposely sniffed at her. “Forgive me. We are almost to Blackmoor. I will find you something more suitable to wear.”

She was prevented from answering as it started to pour just like an afternoon thunderstorm in Florida. The clouds hung low, silver against the gray sky. If she were warm and dry in a train or a car, she would appreciate the storm. The scene was one of rugged beauty. Lonely and windswept. The word melancholy came to mind.

Anna laughed hysterically. “All we need now is for Heathcliff to ride across the moors.”

His breath was warm against her ear.

“I know no one named Heathcliff. The moors can be dangerous. The ground treacherous, and the bogs deadly. Do not make your way through them alone. ”

Could the man read minds? She’d been trying to pay attention, mark rocks or other signposts along the way. As good as she was with directions, she had to admit it looked dangerous. The horse shook his head, nervous, but John kept a firm grip on the reins and guided the beast through the storm. How he could see the trail was beyond her. All she could see was mud. And then something loomed in the distance, making her shiver.

“That’s a castle.” She twisted in the saddle to look at him. “You didn’t tell me you lived in a castle.”

“Does it make a difference?”

“I guess not. Certainly didn’t expect a big, honking castle.” The rain chilled her, or maybe it was the monstrosity in front of her. Talk about the perfect backdrop for a horror movie.

“Blackmoor Castle has been in my family a long time. ’Twas given to me by my father.” She heard the laughter in his voice. “’Tis rumored to be haunted. Though I never saw a spirit.”

“Oh, great. Like that’s supposed to make me feel better.”

Some long-forgotten lecture from history class, or maybe from a book she’d read back when she actually had time to read, popped into her head.

“Wait a minute. You said your name is John Thornton. Shouldn’t you be Lord Blackmoor or something fancy?”

After spending twenty-four hours a day, every day, for the past two weeks with the man, she heard the sadness in his voice. Given her job, she was good at reading people. Could tell who would tip and who wouldn’t. Who would skip out on the check and who would be a total pain in the butt.

“Nay. I haven’t been Lord Blackmoor in a long time. When my lands and gold were confiscated, my title was stripped from me. My older brother, Edward, won back the castle. It has been empty ever since.”

He shifted in the saddle. She felt the tension radiating off his body. The stiffness of his legs and body against her own.

“Prepare yourself. Blackmoor may be in need of repair. ”

“It can’t be any worse than sleeping outside on the ground. At least we’ll have a roof over our heads to shelter us from the rain.”

As the looming stone fortress grew larger, a twinge of jealousy burned through her. He was only nine years older than her, yet he owned a freaking castle and had a bag of gold. She worked a full-time job and two part-time jobs, and still Anna could barely make ends meet after paying the memory care facility fees. To have her own place. Know there was enough money to ensure your security. No more worries. Then she felt like a brat. Here she was being a green-eyed monster, and if he was captured, he’d die for committing treason. In her whole life, she’d never even had a parking ticket.

“So where exactly are we? It’s not like there any signs.”

“We are in the middle of the country. York is to our east.” He stopped speaking, his body stiff as they rode across a bridge through a scary-looking archway with a metal gate above their heads. The gate had spikes at the end. In the horror movie, the gate would come down and impale a helpless victim. They rode into a courtyard. It was so quiet Anna looked around, half expecting at any moment to hear rattling chains and the moaning of ghosts.

His voice came out as a croak. “’Tis deserted. I thought perchance a few of my servants would’ve stayed on, or Edward would have made sure there was a caretaker.”

It looked like the castle was falling down. Like one of the many ruins she had seen in the guidebooks and didn’t even get to see, since she’d only been in London two days when she, like Alice, fell down the rabbit hole.

Did time move the same in the past as it did in her own era? She hoped not. If it did, she’d been gone three weeks. Hattie would be frantic. What had she thought when Anna wasn’t on the flight home? In this situation, it was a small mercy her poor father no longer knew who she was. He wouldn’t miss her. Though he might wonder why the girl who came to read to him twice a week no longer visited .

“Is it safe to stay here? Are you sure the soldiers won’t come here looking for us?”

“We will have a se’nnight at most. Enough time to decide where to go.”

The door opened. A man peered out through the rain at them.

“Who’s there?”

“John Thornton. I’ve come home.”