Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

As Anna picked her way across the moors, she had plenty of time to think about how she’d ended up in the past. She replayed the conversation she had with Charlotte. They both experienced being caught in a thunderstorm. What else was similar?

She thought back to her visit to the tower. The locket. It was definitely old. She’d run her finger across the rough edge where half the picture was missing. And then she’d fallen, skinning her palm on the rough stone. The blood on her palm was on the same hand in which she held the locket. That was when the horrible ringing noise filled her head. The bright, brilliant blue light filled the room, pulsing around her and penetrating and every cell of her body.

Here was a problem. While she could re-create the blood by scraping her hand on stone, and she could wait until a storm blew in. What did she do about the locket? It was important from what Charlotte told Anna of her own experiences. John hadn’t given her any such piece of jewelry, and it wasn’t like she would have enough money left to buy one by the time she reached London. Who was the man in the portrait? Based on Charlotte’s experience, it had to be John. She’d looked through the trunk, and there was no such locket. Could it still be in his cell at the tower?

Anna stretched out on a flat stone next to a brook, greedily drinking water while she thought about her chances. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember if she still had the locket in her hand when she appeared in the past or had dropped it when the blue lightning flashed around her. The biggest unknown was: how important was the jewelry? Guess she’d find out soon enough. Anna looked to the south. Okay, not soon. It would take her almost three weeks if she had to walk the entire way to London. Not acceptable. She needed to be home sooner, and who knew how long she’d have to wait for a storm and to sneak into the tower? Though she’d bet it was much easier to sneak in than out.

Thankful she was used to being on her feet for long hours working at the diner, Anna was happy to stop for the night. She found some scrubby trees and rocks. Curling up under the trees, she listened. Nothing but the wind. She draped a cloak over her. His cloak. While she hadn’t taken his clothes, she did swipe the cloak. It was big and warm, and she thought it could serve as a blanket or a pillow or whatever else she might need.

The food would last a week, so whenever she saw a home, she could buy food as John had. The villagers could be suspicious, and she stood out. They knew she was different. At least now she was dressed appropriately, wearing one of the dresses. The other dress and tunic and hose were packed with her food supplies. Why hadn’t she thought to bring anything to start a fire? Matches. That was another thing that would have come in handy.

“Look at it this way, it could be winter and then you’d freeze your butt off. At least it isn’t cold.”

Her voice sounded loud in the silence. Anna wrapped the cloak tight and curled into a ball. It was different sleeping out on the ground when she’d traveled with John. They’d been together, had each other’s back. Now she was alone and it was a lot scarier.

A small snort escaped as she remembered when she was a little girl and had desperately wanted to join the Girl Scouts. It had been all fun and games until it was time for the camping trip. Not only had it rained, but one of the girls woke up to find a small black snake curled up at the foot of her sleeping bag. It was on the outside, but still, all the girls went shrieking out of the tent.

Then they heard a hissing noise and two red eyes glowed in the beam of the troop leader’s flashlight. It was an alligator walking across the campsite. He ambled along, tail swinging back and forth. They all slept in the cars. After that, Anna swore she would never go camping again.

Now her idea of camping was a motel without a hair dryer. And yet here she was. At least here in England she wouldn’t have to worry about alligators or snakes.

No, dummy, but you’re going to have to worry about bandits slitting your throat while you sleep.

Great. She certainly didn’t need the voice in her head coming up with all kinds of ghastly scenarios while she tried to fall asleep.

Where was Anna? John had been so busy with the repairs, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw her. He stopped one of the wenches from the village who had come to see the men.

“Have you seen Mistress Waters?”

The woman pushed her shoulders back, showing off her breasts. She leaned close. “Nay, my lord. ’Tis her womanly time of the month. She will be spending the next sen’night in her chamber.”

He thanked her and went about his business. But when she did not appear after a sen’night, John grew worried.

He asked every man, woman, and child, and none had seen her. One of the girls spoke up.

“I saw Mistress Waters the day Lord Ravenskirk left.”

“You are certain? ”

“Aye, my lord.”

He knew Anna did not depart with Henry and Charlotte—they sat together as his brother left. Where the bloody hell was she?

As he was poking his head into the chapel, the wench from the village ran, skirts flying around her legs.

“The king’s men, three villages over.” She ground out the words, staring at a spot over his shoulder.

“Tell me, woman.”

The woman blubbered. “I wanted ye for myself. Thought if I got rid of her, you would take me to your bed. I watched her leave Blackmoor the day your brother and his lady left.”

“A sen’night. She’s been gone a bloody sen’night?” John bellowed. “Damnation. Saddle my horse.”

Fear clawed at his insides. He knew where she was going. The daft woman was going back to the tower. To go home to her own time. If, by the fates, she made it to London, the guards would throw her in a cell after they used her ill. He cursed in three languages as he galloped through the gates.