Through The Leaded Glass (5 page)

But then she couldn’t help laughing. At
herself for buying into their act.

They were
actors
. RenFaire revivalists.
Not some psychos trying to scare the daylights out of her. They
were just staying in character. Lord-of-the-manor-ing her. She
almost clapped, they were that good.

Yet, they stood there so quietly angry, the
veins in Alex’s neck standing out above his collar, that she reined
in her laughter. Nick wasn’t laughing either and that niggling
feeling that something wasn’t right returned.

They were a little
too
into their
roles.

Hell. Alex could have the stupid ring. It
wasn’t worth the time she was losing with Alicia and she had more
important things to do than get caught up in a medieval
drama.

“
Here.” She twisted the ring. “You
can have it. No hard feelings. Your performance was worth the five
bucks I paid for it.” She forced a smile. Anything to get out of
this tent.

“
Wait. Don’t.” Alex ran his hand
through his hair, knocking the tie out of his ponytail, and, oh
man, was
that
a good look on him.

She wanted to run her fingers through his
hair, and her costume suddenly seemed to be shrink-wrapped to her
body as the temperature in the tent spiked a few
degrees.

Oh for pete’s sake. How could she be attracted
to this nut? She tugged harder on the ring.

“
No.” He put his hand over hers.
“Keep it.”

“
Hang on. One minute you’re all,
‘Mine mine mine,’ and now I can keep it? Make up
your
mind.”

Alex didn’t say anything. Neither did Nick.
Something was… not wrong, per se, but
off
.

Really off.

She looked at their faces, their costumes. The
homemade candles. The broadsword. The restored shield. She raised
her hand to stare at the shining ring. The ring that had been dull
and dented earlier.

The skipped-breakfast feeling started again in
her stomach.

Kate looked at Alex, standing there without
one ounce of humor and as into his role as someone could be and not
have it be real…

“
What—” She licked her suddenly dry
lips. “What’s the date today?”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “The fourteenth of
September.”

She sighed in relief.

Until he added, “In the year of our Lord,
fourteen hundred, eighty-seven.”

Chapter Three

“
Fourteen hundred…?” No no no no.
Absolutely not. “I’m not buying that.”

It was ridiculous. Impossible. She was done.
D-O-N-E with these two wackos.

A surge of adrenaline allowed her to run
around Nick and get out of the tent before he could
react.

Thank God for her running shoes. She’d head to
the crenellated wall that enclosed the faire and follow it back to
the castle gate. Alicia would have to show up there at some point,
probably mad as hell, but Kate was done with this nightmare. She
had a baby to get ready for and a life to get back to.

She poured on the speed as she rounded the
back of Alex’s tent. Fourteen eighty-seven? Yeah, right. Nice try.
She’d had enough of bizarro-world. La-La Land. Whatever.

Shouts behind her urged her faster while she
scanned the countryside for the faire wall.

There wasn’t one.

There also weren’t any sounds from the
turnpike.

Kate’s steps slowed.
No way…

She looked up. Harrisburg had a pretty busy
airport; there were always planes in the sky and it was a clear
day. Not a cloud.

Nor a plane.

Not even a hot air balloon.

It couldn’t be…

She stopped. Shielding her eyes from the sun,
she scanned the horizon. Besides the no-plane thing, there also
were no power lines. No smoke from the nuclear reactors at nearby
Three Mile Island. The skyline was as pristine as—

No
way
.

Alex grabbed her arm and Kate let herself be
turned around. It just couldn’t be…

“
Would you care to explain this mad
dash of yours?”

Funny how, even with a chest covered in armor,
the guy wasn’t breathing hard. But he also wasn’t trying to wrap
his mind around the impossible.

“
You said fourteen eighty-seven,
right? I’m not hearing things?”

“
You heard me correctly.” He
gestured back to his tent. “Now, may we finish our conversation
with some civility?”

He didn’t give her any choice as he kept his
firm hold on her arm and started walking. Kate’s body went on
autopilot because her brain was too stunned at what was staring her
in the face.

Fourteen hundred and eighty-seven. Oh. My.
God.

***

Master Griff, or, rather, Jonathan Griff when
not working on this project for The Boss, checked the time on his
watch and gnawed on his lip. He’d thought the process would go a
little more smoothly than this.

He fluffed the cloud beneath him and made sure
the window wasn’t in any danger of falling to earth. That would
cause some problems.

He swished the peephole in the cloud a little
wider. Certainly Kate would believe Alex. This obviously wasn’t
Pennsylvania, and it most certainly wasn’t the twenty-first
century.

But that was the problem with twenty-first
century inhabitants. They were beyond taking things on faith. Which
made his job so much harder.
Help your Charges find what they
most desire. Make them Believe
. His position’s all-encompassing
job description. He really had his work cut out for him this
time.

And here, he’d thought he was one step closer
to getting his wings…

***

“
Drink,” Alex ordered when they
returned to the tent. He pressed her onto the bench and put a mug
of something in her hand. “I don’t want you fainting before I get
answers.”

“
I’ve never fainted in my
life.”

“
Your life is not over.”

“
Yet,” added Nick.

She took a sip from the mug. Wine. Well, it
was five o’clock somewhere, right?

How about in fourteen eight-seven? Was it five
o’clock now?

Kate took another sip. Bigger, this
time.

Good God. This place… It was real. Alex and
Nick… They were real, not some wackos—oh, God.
She
was the
wacked-out one.

She looked around. That helmet on the table;
it was part of an
actual
suit of armor, like the one he was
wearing, and the gloves—gauntlets—he’d removed earlier. All those
people in the arena… the boy on the hill… the merchants…

“
Well, Toto, I don’t think we’re in
Kansas any more.”

Nick glared. “His name is
Traverse
.
Lord
Traverse.
Not
Toto.”

Kate smiled, but it wasn’t with amusement. She
was losing it. “Forget I said that. It’s after your
time.”

Oh. My. God.
After his time
. What was
she saying? What was she
thinking
? Where was the
level-headed executive now? The woman able to juggle five projects
at once and pull in new accounts to boot?

Oh, just somewhere in the fifteenth
century.

Alex wanted to believe she wasn’t a thief, but
many of his beliefs were being tested today. The gypsy woman had
been right. Ever since Telesa had taught him the ways gypsies
fooled
gadje
, he’d known to never believe their predictions,
but now with this woman standing in front of him, his ring on her
finger…

He hadn’t told Nick everything the gypsy had
said. Hadn’t told anyone. “What’s your name?” he asked the
beautiful thief in front of him.

The woman’s emerald green eyes narrowed. “Kate
Lawton. Why?”

God’s blood, it
was
true. “Kate, who
else saw you with the ring?”

“
You mean beside everyone at the
faire when I got swept up in their procession?”

Alex resisted the impulse to shake her for
being so casual about something his family held dear. Something his
people
held dear.

Nick slapped his blade in his palm. “She
speaks strangely, Alex.”

She did. Which would have been the second
thing Lady Aubridge noticed after the ring.

Why did she have to have seen Lady
Aubridge?

“
How did you come to be at my
tent?”

“
I ran into a boy on the hill who
said to go to ‘yon tent’ and here I am. I wish I hadn’t
listened.”

Alex was glad she had; he could only imagine
what would’ve happened if she’d shown up in anyone else’s tent.
He’d have to remember to thank Duncan, his squire—amid figuring out
how to handle the firestorm that was about to ensue.

“
Nick, find Tris and meet me at the
lists. There are things we must discuss.”

“
Alex—”

“
Do it. We’ll discuss it
there.”

Nick didn’t like the order, not that Alex
could blame him. Truth was, Alex didn’t particularly relish his
position above his friends. Rarely did he exercise it, but there
were times, such as now, when he needed the fealty Nick and Tristan
had sworn to him when he’d inherited the earldom.

Kate took another sip of wine after Nick left.
And another.

He sat next to her and took the mug. He needed
her sober more than he needed Nick’s sobriety. His own? That was up
for discussion.

“
Well then, Kate, it’s done. Lady
Aubridge has seen you wearing the ring, which means the tale will
be all over England by now.” He traced the ring’s surface, perhaps
more to convince himself of what he must do than anything else.
“It’s not too bad. You are rather comely and can put a complete
sentence together. A little addle-brained, perhaps, but you’ll do.
You’ll have to.”

“
Do? Do what? I’m not doing
anything.” Kate pulled her hand back. “What’s all over England? Oh,
God,
England.
” She tried to pull her hand away. “Why won’t
you let go of me?”

Because he didn’t want to. And that had
nothing to do with his ring. She was, simply, beautiful. Glorious
auburn curls, eyes the same shade as the emerald in his ring, lips
that enticed him… Jesu, it’d been too long since he’d lain with a
woman. He couldn’t want this one.

“
Because, my
dear
, Lady
Aubridge would find herself remiss in her self-appointed duty of
announcing the Earl of Shelton had found himself betrothed if she
didn’t immediately proclaim her newfound knowledge to the first,
next, and last ear to cross her path. Including our good king.” And
most especially, Isobel.

Kate’s mouth fell open. “
Betrothed
? You
can’t be serious.”

“
Do I look as if I’m jesting? Trust
me, I do not jest about betrothals.”

Fire flashed in the depths of her emerald
eyes. “And just what makes you think I’ll ‘betroth’
you?”

“
The gypsy foretold it.”

“
Excuse me? Gypsy? Marriage?” Kate
shook her head. “I think you’ve had a little too much wine
yourself, Alex, so, if you don’t mind, I need to get my
window.”

“
Window?”

“
Yes. Another souvenir I bought
earlier that I left out there by a tree. You’re not going to say
that you’re missing a window, now, are you?” Kate stood up and
started walking toward the opening of the tent.

He couldn’t help but admire her spirit. More
than was prudent at the moment, but still, admirable. “Kate, you
aren’t going anywhere. I require your hand in marriage.”

She spun around. “Really? You can require my
entire
body
in marriage and you won’t be getting it. I. Am.
Leaving. Got it? Going back home. Where I belong.”

She headed toward the opening again, but Alex
caught a swath of her skirt before she made it. He was unaccustomed
to begging, but then, today was unlike any other. “Please, Kate.
You must listen to me.”

His death grip on her gown stopped her. As did
that word.
Please
. Why did it sound as if it wasn’t one he
often used?

Which was one more reason to get the hell out
of here. She’d had it with chauvinistic, selfish men. She tugged
her dress free, completely uninterested in whatever he had to say.
The only thing she wanted to hear anyone say was, “Welcome to
Wendy’s, may I take your order?” Or, “You’ve got mail.” Or, hell,
even, “License and registration, please” would do. Something,
anything
to tell her this was all some hideous dream and she
was alive and well and living more than five hundred years in the
future.

She plunked down onto the stool, her knees
giving out at that thought. Which annoyed her. She, who had stood
before CEOs and Boards of Directors proposing million-dollar
expenditures, she wasn’t frightened of anyone. Anything.