A Fall Through Time (Stacey and Shane Mcleod, #1) (8 page)

“As I recall,” Eric said, “it be ye who asked for more of my kisses.”

“Well,” Stacey said, “hell will freeze over before you ever get another kiss from me.  Of course, with your whore here you won’t need anything from me.” 

Stacey was reaching for the door, when Eric said, “I am not finished with ye, Miss Scott.”

“Well, I’m finished with you,” she said and sailed through the door and slammed it behind her with the tail of her skirt catching in it.

Eric opened the door and said, “Ye will hear me out. I am not finished with ye, Miss Scott.”

Stacey grabbed her skirt and headed for the stairs, then turned back and said, “Tough shit, your Lordship, cause I’m finished with you.”  Up the stairs, Stacey went and slammed her solar door.

Everyone in the hall was looking on, so Eric let it go for now.  He had never been so hurt and so angry with any woman in his entire life.  Stacey was not going to go down for the eventide meal.  Then she decided, to heck with him she would show him.  Sir Perceval took her to the river to bathe. Her hair was still wet, so she put it in a French braid.  Stacey had become very close with the servants.  She now referred to Alice as a chef, which made Alice very happy, once Stacey explained what a chef was.

At the table, Stacey was very quiet.  Isabelle was her usual talkative self.  When Alfred served the wine, Stacey asked to be served a goblet. “Ye do not care for this vintage, Miss Stacey.  I will bring ye the blackberry.”

This brought Eric’s attention to Stacey.  Isabelle had not shut up since they had sat down to the table.  Eric thought, to himself, if she does not cease her constant chattering soon, a gag might be in order. He wondered why her constant yapping had never bothered him before now.

Alfred brought the wine and Stacey poured her goblet full.  Alfred looked to his lordship fearing chastisement. Stacey picked at her food.  Eric knew she was still angry.  He was waiting for her to explode.  Eric had never before seen Stacey drink wine.  She had now drunk two full goblets.  She was sitting almost directly across from Isabelle.

Stacey was sitting with her elbow on the table with her chin resting in the palm of her hand.  She looked across at Isabelle and asked, “Where’s your husband?” 

“My dear husband passed on a few years ago, Miss Scott,” Lady Isabelle said. “I thought I had already told ye that.”

“What title did he hold?” 

“He was a baron, why do ye ask?” Isabelle inquired. 

Stacey, with a bit too much wine said, “So, you’re heading on up to the east side, hea, Wizzie?”  Of course, no one at the table understood Stacey’s sarcasm.  Next, Stacey asked, “How did your husband die?  Did he smother to death?”

This time they understood Stacey’s sarcasm.  Eric and Lord Thomas almost choked on their wine and Rodric hid a smile behind his napkin. 

“I beg ye pardon?” Isabelle said.

Stacey snapped her fingers and said, “That’s who you remind me of, Dolly Pardon.” 

“Pray tell, what is a Dolly Pardon?” Isabelle inquired.

“Not a what,” Stacey said, “but a who. She is a very well known lady where I come from.” 

“From where exactly, do ye come, Miss Scott?” Isabelle asked.

Stacey shrugged her shoulders and said, “Oh, I don’t know, east of the sun, west of the moon, who cares?”

“Miss Scott, mayhap ye have had enough wine,” Eric said.

Stacey waved her finger at him and said, “Nope, nope...Nooo.  I was always the designated driver in college, but here I don’t drive.”  At that precise time, Isabelle spilled a drop of wine on her breast.  She caught it with her finger and then licked her finger. Every male at the table was spellbound. 

Stacey turned to Rodric and said, “I’m glad those monsters are good for something.”

“Stacey, let us go for fresh air,” Rodric urged.

Stacey ignored him and asked Isabelle, “How did you get your hair that color?  I know they haven’t invented peroxide yet.”

“I wash my hair in saffron,” Isabelle said.

Stacey, shocked to her core asked, “Do you know how much that stuff costs?”

“As a matter of fact I do not,” Isabelle said, as she looked toward Eric.

Stacey looked at Eric with disgust in her eyes and said to Rodric, “Now I think I need some fresh air.”

As Stacey and Rodric left the table Isabelle said to Lord Thomas, “Surely ye not be thinking of matching that person to Rodric. She be so incongruous.” 

“She be the orphan niece of an old friend of mine,” Lord Thomas said.  “No, of course not,” Eric said.

“Well no, I had not thought on it, but now that ye mention it, I may think on it.”

“Surely, ye lordship, ye see she is not suitable,” Isabelle said.

“Why do ye think not?” he asked.

“To begin with she speaks strangely,” Isabelle said, “and who be her family?”

Everyone within hearing distance knew he was lying, but they all liked Miss Stacey.  She treated everyone the same as if they were all equal, where as Lady Isabelle looked down on almost everyone there.  They all knew Lady Isabelle had hopes of being the next Countess of Dun-Raven.  As far as the castle folk were concerned, she was the earl’s leman, his whore, nothing more.  When Lady Isabelle comes to Dun-Raven, she brings her own servants.  She does not want uncouth country servants touching her finery and that was just fine with them.

Rodric and Stacey were walking around the gardens. “What turned ye loose on Lady Isabelle?” Rodric asked.

“You’re a man; you wouldn’t understand.”

“Did ye and Eric have another fight?” 

“Yes, that’s about all we ever do.”  Stacey turned to Rodric and asked, “What makes a man want a woman like that?” 

Rodric smiled and said, “She be not Eric’s alone.  She shares her charms with many men.”

Stacey was shocked.  “Does Eric know?”

“Of course he does,” Rodric said with a bit of a laugh. “I’m surprised she came this far.  She does not like the country.” 

“Maybe not,” Stacey said, “but she wants his title.” 

Rodric smiled and said, “Eric be not a fool, he be aware of what she wants. What about ye Stacey, what do ye want?” 

“I just wanna’ go home.”

“What be Eric angry with ye about this time?” Rodric asked.

“I told him where I came from and he went to London to try to find me a way home.  Like a fool, I told him about Druid’s Grove.  He went there and of course, there was no dig,” Stacey said. 

“Did ye tell him why?” Rodric asked. 

“No, he was too angry to listen and I was too angry to explain.  I’m gonna’ ask your mother and father if I can go back to London with ya’ll when you leave after your party.” 

“I think it would be best if ye told Eric everything.” 

“Are you crazy?” Stacey said. “He would probably tie me to the stake and light the first match. I don’t think I feel like being roasted, if you don’t mind.”

Rodric laughed at her and said, “I would love to see ye world Stacey.” 

“So would I,” Stacey said. “I’ll tell you all I can, but first we must make a pact that you will never tell my secret to anyone except Callie, after you two are married.” 

“How did you know I plan to marry Callie?” Rodric asked in amazement.

“I have eyes,” Stacey said.  Then she told Rodric, “We’re going to be blood brother and sister.  The Native American people where I come from do this with people they trust with their lives.  That’s what I’m gonna’ do with you.” 

Rodric was quiet for a while, then asked, “Stacey when we mingle our blood does this mean I am to always do what I think be best for ye?”

“Yes, absolutely, I trust you with my life.”

They then cut their fingers and mingled their blood. They talked and talked.  Stacey drew pictures in the dirt and Rodric was full of questions. She told him over-whelming things about automobiles, aviation, the industrial age, medicine, astronomy and science. When she told him about astronauts traveling to the moon, he was astonished and only half believed her. Stacey was in her element. She loved the look of amazement on his face each time she described something that future generations took for granted. Stacey knew she would be the same if people came from outer space telling about other far away, unimaginable, wonderful worlds.

Rodric’s Birthday

W
hen Stacey went upstairs, she saw Isabelle going into Eric’s quarters.  She thought, to herself, “Damn, damn them both.”

Rodric’s regale was to be on Saturday. Stacey’s dress was ready. Molly had done an amazing job.  Stacey thought, Eric must have loved Frances exceeding well to provide her with such beautiful materials.  How sad it was that she never had a chance to use them.  Stacey had chosen a lovely green silk to make her dress.  She drew a sketch of the dress she wanted and there was a pair of green boots that would match perfectly.

On Saturday, people of importance started arriving from the villages of the three castles and the castles themselves.  Stacey sometimes forgot she was living in a feudal society; however, this party was certainly bringing it back to her.  She told herself, she could do nothing about it and Rodric was her friend, so I’ll have a good time with him. Tables were set up on both ends of the great hall and in the large sunroom. Drinks were brought up from below stairs and people were everywhere. Hired Troubadours were playing music and singing.  There was dancing in the great hall.  Stacey decided the hall was the best place for her.  She knew when she opened her mouth she stood out like a sore thumb, so tonight she would do her best to speak mixed French and English just as they do.

Stacey’s dress was green Damascus silk, form fitting with a high collar trimmed with silver lace, which had long sleeves that were loose at the wrist.  The skirt had a slit on each side, and a belt trimmed with silver lace worn low on the hips and crossed on the left front side as the fashion of the time.  The green boots came almost to her knees.  When she walked, you could see about three inches of leg, but nothing when she stood still.  The most provocative thing about the dress was the lacing up the back.

When Stacey came down the stairs on Rodric’s arm, she received a considerable amount of

attention.  There were many young knights and wealthy men she had not before met.  One of the young men turned out to be Robert Burely, Eric’s cousin.  His father Simon Burely, was the baron of Falcon Crest castle.  They were related on their grandmother’s side.  Stacey could tell by the scowl on Eric’s face that he was not pleased.  His cousin, Robert, was a scholarly young man about Stacey’s age.  Stacey knew Eric did not think it wise for her to be socializing and dancing with the male guest.  Well, tough, Stacey thought.  It will do him good to realize other men find me attractive. After all, he has Isabelle.

The dancing was interesting and fun.  Nobody touched except their palms as they passed one another.  They don’t tell you in history books about this stuff.  In a way, it was more sensual and they flirted with their eyes a lot. Stacey was having a good time when in the dance of rotating partners she found herself in front of Eric.

“I see ye have many admirers, Miss Scott.” 

“Oh, really, I hadn’t noticed.” 

“I beseech ye, to mind the young men here tonight.  They do not know of ye strange ways. Alas, ye are not dressed appropriately.”

After saying this, he moved on to another partner. Stacey knew he would be back so she smiled and was charming with each partner until she was back in front of Eric. “How is it, that you say I’m not dressed properly?”

“Ye show too much leg,” Eric said. 

With sarcasm dripping in her voice Stacey said, “In other words, it’s proper for certain women to let their breast fall out, but never let an inch of leg show. You are such a hypocrite, your lordship.” 

As they rotated on to other partners, Stacey was not there when he returned.  She was at the wine table getting another goblet of wine. When Eric saw her, he told Rodric, “Go be with Stacey; she be drinking wine.”

“God’s teeth,” Rodric said, and headed for the wine table. By the time Rodric got to Stacey, she was talking with a young knight from York. She was interested in his stories.  Stacey remembered from history that the house of York was usually kin to the king.  She had read of the black prince and knew he was the oldest son of Edward III.  She now knew he was also a friend of Eric’s. They had fought together in France after Frances died. Eric and Sir Giles had fought at the side of Edward Plantagenet off and on for seven years.

Rodric asked Stacey, “Would ye care to walk outside for awhile?”

“No, why aren’t you with Callie?  I’m gonna’ find someone to dance with me.” 

Stacey then put her hands out and said, “Do you wanna’ dance with me?” 

Rodric whispered in her ear, “Not like that Stacey. Remember where ye be.”

Dejected, Stacey took her goblet of wine and found a place to stand out of the way but she was not alone long. Eric had been trying to keep an eye on her but had lost sight of her for a minute. Then he spied her, standing and talking to someone with her back toward him. He could not keep his eyes off the laces that held her dress together.  He was fantasizing about unlacing the laces when Sir Godwin came up beside him and said, “That ward of Sir Thomas’s be a fetching wench. Think ye not, Dun-Raven?”

“Me thinks ye would feel the edge of her tongue if she heard ye refer to her as a wench,” Dun-Raven said. 

Sir Godwin looked in Stacey’s direction again and said, “Me thinks it would be worth much to unlace those laces and watch that green fall to the floor.”

Eric turned on him and said, “Sir, kindly keep a civil tongue in ye head. The lady be under my protection in this keep.” 

Contrite, Sir Godwin said, “Of course, Dun-Raven; I beg pardon, but ye must admit there be many bees around that piece of honey tonight.”

Eric was angry and jealous. He could not make heads or tails of his feelings. He had never before been jealous over any woman.  There always be more where they came from, but that did not apply to Stacey. There be no one else quite like her. Eric had found he quite enjoyed their sparring rounds. He be not accustomed to anyone gainsaying him. He was the Earl and his word was law. Eric watched her for a while then thought, to himself, wherever she came from I hope she never goes back.