Chapter Twelve 

Did Melinda Merriweather think him daft? The future? James leaned back in the chair to ease the ache in his hip, watching her through narrowed eyes.

His curiosity seemed to rule him, for he opened his mouth and said, "Tell me exactly what happened."

It wasn't question, it was a command. He waited to hear what she would say. What nonsensical ravings she would speak.

"As I said, I'm from the future."

Melinda fidgeted in her chair. Was she going to lie to him? He could not abide liars. She opened her mouth, and he noticed her and straight white teeth.

"You see, my sister went missing. It was on the first day of summer. She'd come to England with her jerk of a boyfriend, and supposedly they were both lost at sea. Presumed dead. I couldn't accept my sister was gone. You see, I'm the oldest, she's the middle, and we have a younger sister named Charlotte. She's the free spirit."

Melinda sat quietly for a moment, sipping her wine, a look of intense concentration upon her lovely, unmarked face.

"When I heard what happened, I went to England. I looked all over the castle grounds and in the local village, but I couldn't find any trace of her. The authorities were useless. So I went back home to try to get on with my life. Only I couldn't."

"You are not French, and I'll wager you are not Scottish or Welsh. Where are you from?"

His gaze was drawn to her mouth when she bit her lip.

"My country hasn't been discovered yet. It won't be until 1492. It's called America. I come from the state of North Carolina. From a town called Holden Beach. It's hot in the summer and the sea air here reminds me of home. It smells similar here, except colder and older, if that makes any sense."

James knew exactly what she meant. For he loved living by the sea. The scent of the ocean eased his mind. A servant came in to build up the fire. When the child left, James propped his chin on his fists.

"Continue your tale."

"So you see, I tried to get on with my life, but then something happened that made me think she wasn't really dead."

He couldn't help it—he leaned forward in the chair, curious as to what she would say.

"I decided I was going to travel to England one last time. Take a look around, and if I couldn't find any answers, I would finally accept Lucy's death and return home and get on with my life. But on the way to the airport—"

She paused as if considering what to tell him. He watched her closely, looking for any sign she was lying. Melinda nodded to herself.

"The airport is a place you go to book passage. Except it's not a horse or a carriage. It's like a large metal bird that flies in the sky. You climb inside, fly in the sky over the ocean, and in eight hours or so you arrive in England. I know that's fast, but I swear it seems to take forever."

He gaped at her. "Metal birds? Eight hours to cross an ocean?"

"That's the best way I can think of to describe a plane. Yes, people can fly through the air."

"Are you afraid you will fall from the sky?" Not that James believed her; he was merely curious to hear her tale.

"Well, I think when airplanes were first invented people were afraid they would fall out of the sky. But they've been around for such a long time people think of them like you think of horses. No big deal. Although seriously, horses scare me more than airplanes. I'm always afraid the horse is going to bite me or kick me."

James frowned severely. "You traveled in one of these flying birds to England." Witless girl. He would not hurt her tender feelings. 'Twas the reason he listened to her tale. Truly.

"Then what transpired?"

"Before I traveled in the plane, I was driving… A car is like a horse made of metal, but it doesn't look like an actual horse. More like a box. You don't feed it—well, you put gas in it…" She waved a hand. "Never mind. You sit inside the horseless carriage and drive. The car can take you across long distances very quickly. Not as fast as an airplane, but fast."

"A metal carriage?"

She held up a hand. "I'll tell you all about various modes of transportation later. Let me get the story out before I lose my nerve."

He sat back and waited, curiosity spiraling through his body. He hadn't been as intrigued in… Well, he couldn't remember how long.

"So I was driving my car to the airport when out of nowhere another car crashed into my car. It was a terrible crash. I was hurt very badly. There was a man. He stood over me. He was English. The man told me he had been sent to kill me. Said once he killed me he would kill my other sister, Charlotte. And told me he was hired by a client to make sure Lucy was dead."

Anger coursed through James. He wanted to find this man and cleave his head from his shoulders. But he said not a word out loud. What would it be like to have a woman as fierce and passionate as Melinda to wife? He scowled. She was beautiful, and likely many chivalrous fools fought for her affection. She would not want a beast.

"I ended up in the hospital. The doctor said I was lucky to be alive. That was after I was in a coma…where you sleep and no one can wake you up. Five months passed. When I woke, I knew I had to go back. To search for answers."

She stared into the fire, and it seemed a spell encircled them. James needed to hear the rest of her story. The sound of her voice, her strange accent, made him feel comforted, enveloped in warmth.

"When I left the hospital and went home, I made arrangements to go back to England. I was on my way to the castle and somehow I turned left when I should have turned right and ended up here. At Falconburg. Only in my time, the castle is a ruin. It doesn't last."

She clapped her hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"My bones will have turned to dust in seven hundred years. I know I will never have children. I am the last of my line. When I die there will be nothing left. No one to carry on the Rivers name. Mayhap 'tis fitting Falconburg falls to ruin."

He thought for a moment. "Do other castles stand in your time?"

She nodded. "There are many castles still standing. Though it's become so expensive to own them. The National Trust manages them, or the family has to allow people to look at the castle. They pay money to walk around the castle."

James shuddered, imagining hordes of people gaping at the beast of Falconburg.

"I would not allow strangers in my home."

James watched the emotions cross her face. She looked as if she were deciding whether to tell him something.

"I was wandering around London and I went into a museum. There was a painting on the wall. One of many down a long hallway. The painting was from the fourteenth century."

She put her face in her hands, and he watched her shoulders shake, feeling helpless to aid her. There was a warrior within Melinda Merriweather. Did she know how strong she was to attempt such a journey alone? He admired her spirit.

"The painting was of a man, a woman, and five children. This is where things take a turn into strangeness. The woman in the painting—was my sister, Lucy."

She looked at him, anguish in her eyes, and in that moment James wanted to believe her. Found himself yearning to believe in her. To believe in anything.

"Mayhap the woman in the painting merely looked like your sister."

"Charlotte thought so. It's possible, but I believe it's her. At Blackford I found a letter. The sea air had turned most of it to dust, but I made out the word safe. It was Lucy's handwriting. As if she tried to leave me a message. I have to find Lucy. I don't know how or why, but I did travel through time. Now here I am in 1327. The problem is, I don't know when Lucy came back. I don't know what year. If it is her in the painting, then I know it was during this century, but nothing more. So I have no idea how to find her other than to go to Blackford Castle, where she was last seen."

Blackford Castle? The home of his enemy. James wanted to aid her, but taking her to Blackford was not possible. Could he truly believe she was from the future? And not only her but also her sister? Or was it a ruse?

"If you truly are from the future, tell me of events to come."

She tilted her head. "Edward III is king, correct?"

He nodded.

"In ten years a famous war will start. It's called the Hundred Years War and is between England and France for control of the French throne."

James could no longer fight due to his injury. He sent men and gold in his stead. A war lasting a hundred years would bankrupt the nobles.

"And a terrible plague is coming. It's called the Black Plague. It hits London around 1348 and kills over twenty million people across Europe. It's spread by fleas and rats."

She shuddered, and a chill passed through the room.

"Then we shall keep cats at Falconburg." Dolt. He made a strangled sound.

"It's a terrible death." She looked grim.

"When I find Lucy, I'm going to smack her. Why didn't she try to preserve the letter in better condition?"

Melinda placed a hand on his arm. Heat from her touch traveled to his heart. She looked him in the eye when she spoke. Did not flinch from his visage.

"Do you know Lord Blackford? It's the last place Lucy visited. I need to see if anyone there knows her."

Melinda clenched her fists. "You have to understand. The scarf that man from the market was wearing, it's a pattern my sister came up with. I have to leave now. See what they know about Lucy. Will you help me?"

"I will not take you to such a wretched place. The Brandons are my mortal enemy. I would see William, now Lord Blackford, dead, along with his entire line."

Melinda took three steps back. He knew he was scaring her. He threw the goblet into the fire, snarling.

"You will obey my command and stay here. I will send a spy to inquire about your sister." James pinched the bridge of his nose and swore viciously. "Now leave me, woman."