Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

The man standing in the doorway was bald and hunched over. He gazed up at John through light blue eyes. There was intelligence in his gaze. The man shuffled back to allow entrance to the hall.

“Come back from the dead, have ye? Best come in afore someone sees ye.” Without waiting for an answer, he shuffled into the gloom.

Haunted. Over the years he’d heard the rumors. Blackmoor Castle haunted by demons and ghosts. People traveling went out of their way to avoid the castle, crossing themselves as they moved across his lands. As far as he knew, there’d never been a sighting of a ghost. He’d encouraged the rumors over the years, wanting to keep people away. If he couldn’t live at Blackmoor, he didn’t want anyone else walking through his hall, sleeping in his bed.

They followed the man to the kitchens. Long-buried feelings of family and home made him want to weep like a babe. The utter disrepair and ruin made him regret the actions of his youth. Something wet landed on his nose. Looking up, he saw a great, gaping hole in the roof.

“Is there no one else here? ”

“Some left after you were arrested. Others waited, hoping the lord would return. When your brother sent word you were dead, most of the others fled. Your brothers promised to take care of every man, woman, and child. Many went to their estates. I stayed. You know the tales?” The man looked over his shoulder, a twinkle in his eye. “They say Blackmoor ’tis haunted by the very devil himself.”

“Have you seen the devil?”

“Only the one following me.” The old man scratched his arse as he muttered. He and Anna sat at a bench, the wood creaking under their weight. John hoped he would not suffer the humiliation of Anna seeing him sprawled on his backside. The man limped over, a platter in one hand, a jug in the other.

“The larder is empty.” He patted a ring of keys around his waist. “I kept the wine locked away. Plenty to drink.”

As he ambled out of the room, he said, “I’ll ready your chamber.”

Ten long years had passed since John had been home. He watched Anna looking around, noticing the dirt and ruin, saw the worry on her face. She seemed to sense him looking at her. Turning green eyes on him, she arched a brow.

“A bit of a fixer-upper, huh?”

He understood the meaning behind the strange words. “Blackmoor has withstood battles. A few holes in the roof won’t bring the walls down. Mayhap we will have company in our beds.”

“What? Like bedbugs? Rats?” She was as skittish as a filly. “We don’t have castles where I come from. There are big houses, but nothing like this.”

And something about the way she said it made him pause. He always assumed his home would stand for hundreds of years, long after he’d turned to dust. To think it no longer stood in her time cracked the ice he’d built around his heart so long ago. What had happened to Blackmoor? Did it fall to his enemies?

“There are no more castles? ”

Anna touched his arm, the heat of her touch warming him from inside.

“Where I come from there were never castles to begin with. There are many castles in England and other countries. Though I don’t know if Blackmoor is still standing. I’d only arrived in London two days before I ended up here. I didn’t have time to see the countryside.”

She reached up to wipe rain from her face. It was raining harder outside, thunder in the distance.

Anna knocked the platter onto the floor. “Sorry. There was a terrible storm when…everything happened. I’ve never liked storms.” She nibbled a bit of cheese, her hand trembling.

“I do know the Tower of London stands. As do Buckingham Palace and Westminster Abbey.” She wrinkled her nose, thinking. “Forget what I said about Buckingham Palace. It hasn’t even been built yet. It was built in the early 1700s, if I remember my history correctly.”

He was curious about her time. Wanted to know more. “When did a queen take the throne?”

She bit her lip, which he found rather fetching. “Queen Mary was the first. Sometime in the mid-1500s.”

He tried to accept the knowledge a woman held the throne and did not have absolute power. “Why does your country not have a ruler?”

“People from Europe came to America to get away from the monarchy. We have a president and congress. But it’s not like anyone can order your head chopped off because you made them mad.”

Her eyes turned the color of moss when she laughed.

“Though I think I’d like to be queen. It would be nice to say off with their heads and get rid of anyone I didn’t like.”

“You’re rather bloodthirsty for such a small slip of a girl, Anna Waters.”

She blushed. He reached out to stroke her cheek then snatched his hand back. He was a wanted man and would likely not live long. He could not afford to open his heart to a woman. Especially one who claimed to be from the future. She would return to her own time, where he had been dead and turned to dust for hundreds of years. Would she marry? The thought of another man touching her made him want to throw something.

The steward returned. “The rats have been at the bedding.”

“Wonderful. And I thought cockroaches were bad,” Anna muttered as she bit into the bread.

John fought to keep a straight face. “I must confess, I do not remember your name.”

The man scratched at his whiskers. “I suspect I had a bit more hair then. My name is Emory. My father and brother served ye as well.”

The memory came back. A slight man with hair as black as night. Piercing blue eyes, all of them. John recognized the eyes.

“My apologies. I remember now. You took good care of me and have my gratitude for staying.”

“Where would I go? I was born here. Lived here all my life, and I will die at Blackmoor.”

He motioned for them to follow. “The chamber is this way.”

Emory led them through the hall and up a flight of stairs. Memories flooded John’s thoughts. A small part of him wished circumstances were different. He wished to rebuild his home. See his brothers. And perchance to find a woman to care for him. But that was not to be his life.

They reached the chamber, and Emory opened the door.

“Won’t be much for supper tomorrow, but I’ll see what I can do.” He left them standing in the room.

“Is my room across the hall?” There was a strange look on Anna’s face, and it took John a moment to realize why.

“Remain here.” He quickly crossed the hall and opened the door to the other chamber. There was a great, gaping hole in the wall and he could see outside to the trees. The other two chambers were in even worse repair. He came back dusting his hands on his hose.

“This is the only chamber. I will sleep on the floor.”

She looked horrified. “The stone is cold. You’ll get sick.” Turning to face the bed, she said quietly, “We slept next to each other while we traveled.”

“’Twas different.”

“No, it wasn’t. You said you were a knight, so I will expect you to behave honorably and we will share the bed.”

He reeled back. “Nay, we cannot. You are not wise to trust my intentions. I have been a bandit as long as a knight.”

“Whatever. Why can’t we share?”

“People will talk. Your reputation is at risk.”

“There’s no one here but Emory, and I don’t think he cares. Anyway, it’s not like you’re going to ravish me or anything.”

The thought had not crossed his mind until she said it. John could well imagine them together. Her long hair spread over the pillow, shimmering in the candlelight. A rosy hue to her skin as he brought her pleasure. He shifted from foot to foot.

“Nay. I would not think to lay a finger upon you.”

Was it his imagination or did she look distressed by his words?

“I will sleep in the kitchens. Sleep well, Anna.” He left her standing there.