Page 15 of A Dark and Stormy Knight (A Knight’s Tale #3)

“W hat is everybody doing?”

Cara’s bright, cheery voice, carried over to him, and Wallace realized he must have been watching for Cara, because the moment she came outside, he spotted her.

She was walking in his direction, when she was stopped by his mother.

“Lady Cara, this way, if you please,” his mother instructed.

Wallace bundled sticks together to serve as one corner of the structure, so he could not leave.

The letdown he felt was ridiculous, of course. Though he intended to marry her, there was no reason for her to seek him out and make peace.

Their gazes met, and she smiled and raised her hand.

She’d done something to her hair, and looked lovely. He gave her a nod that didn’t even begin to express the shot of happiness he felt at her acknowledgment.

He purposely turned away, and kept his hands busy, though he found his heart lightened considerably at her appearance.

“I see your lady has joined us, my lord.” Sir Thomas, his blond hair sticking to his forehead, was bundling together sticks for one of the other corners, looking alert.

Wallace felt a rush of irritation at the man’s watchful tone. As if there was some expectation that Wallace would do something about it.

“So she is,” was all he said.

“That’s quite the bauble about her neck,” Sir Thomas said.

“Keep your eyes in your skullcap,” Wallace growled.

Sir Thomas chuckled. “Are you to marry the lass?”

A rush of aggression had Wallace straightening quickly. “How is that your concern?”

“’Twas but a question, my lord. One I would say ye answered,” he said with a chuckle.

When Wallace heard giggling, he found himself glancing up again.

Cara had been installed in a group of ladies that had heretofore been as solemn as church on Christmas Day.

Now, they were all smiles, and Wallace strained to hear their conversation.

The five men around him started talking, and so he gave up the effort.

It seems that her mere presence alone had brought his people to life.

Over the next few hours Wallace continued to work, not only instructing others, but physically doing the labor himself.

Something that would have once been unthinkable for a man of his position.

How the mighty had fallen.

And through it all, he was aware of Cara, working with the women, her conversation animated and fun.

He still felt confused about his mother’s story from the night before, but as the day wore on, it became less and less important.

Wherever, or even whenever Cara was from, she was here now, and he wasn’t planning to give her up.

He’d rued the fact that his betrothal was nullified when the king had taken everything from them.

He’d wished he’d have married the girl sooner, as his father had wished, rather than spending his time in petty wars and tourneys.

If he had, they might have had another strong family to speak for them, and to side with them.

As it was, they had been quick to distance themselves from the Wolfsbane fall from grace.

He’d met the lady a couple of times, and thought they’d do well enough together, though they’d barely spoken, and he knew her not at all.

He glanced at Cara once more and his chest filled with a burning sensation.

If she truly was from another time, and she’d landed directly at his feet, mayhap fate itself gifted her to him?

He turned away, his lips curling at the corners. He was becoming as fanciful as his mother.

Three of his men paused in their duties to stare at him.

Well, and no wonder, was it? When was the last time he’d smiled about anything?

He got back to work, resisting the urge to join Cara, more because he didn’t know what he would say if he walked over. The thought of her and the other ladies staring, caused a wave of heat to rise up the back of his neck.

Nay, he would bide his time, and talk with her soon enough.

After all, neither one of them had anywhere to go.

* * *

The morning passed quickly and Cara stood, arched her back, and groaned as she used her fingers to rub at the base of her spine.

She definitely was not used to physical labor, and bending over and putting together bundles of straw that would make up a roof was exhausting work.

Still, she couldn’t say she wasn’t enjoying herself.

She felt productive, and literally keeping a roof over the heads of these nice, hard-working people, was satisfying.

She glanced around, but Wallace had been called away, and still hadn’t returned.

“I’m famished.”

Cara turned to see Dori at her elbow. “What’s for lunch?”

“What?”

“Our next meal?”

“Oh, you mean dinner.”

Cara had to admit, she was having fun with Dori. She’d never had a younger sister, and the hero worship in the younger girl’s eyes, the way she followed her around, made the teasing fun for both of them.

“Dinner, then.”

“The steward brought down a stag yesterday, so mayhap we’ll have venison!”

Oh, yummy. Certainly not her first choice, but remembering all the mouths Wallace had to feed, all she said was, “That sounds great!”

They walked back toward the manor when Cara spotted a turtle at the edge of the path. “Oh, look!”

She reached down to pick it up. It was about the size of a small Frisbee, and she held it up to look at its little head, retracting inside its shell. “Cute little thing, isn’t it?”

“If we give it to cook, mayhap we’ll have turtle soup for supper?”

Cara looked down at Dori, horrified. “Turtle soup? That’s disgusting!”

“Nay, ’tis quite tasty.”

Cara placed the turtle in the grass near the top of the moat, and gave it a little push so it slid down into the dirt. “Go on, little thing, before Dori eats you alive.”

Now it was Dori’s turn to be horrified. “Alive! Now you are the disgusting one!”

Laughing, they walked on. “What do you mean? You don’t let them stroll down the table, grab hold of them, crack them open, and dig in with your spoon?”

Dori giggled. “Ye say such strange things, at times.”

“Maybe so, but at least I don’t eat poor, innocent little turtles.”

Dori snorted. “They are quite tasty.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Cara had spent the morning thinking about returning home, and the only conclusion she’d come to was she’d have to return to Stirling.

If she went there, and touched the stone, would she suddenly return to the Hollywood movie set?

She had no way of knowing.

She reached up and touched the necklace at her throat. She’d thought about it and all she could remember was it had some sort of history with the Dinsdales or Wolfsbanes.

So, it was old.

Could her falling through time have anything to do with it? For all she knew it was magic, and trying to return to its rightful owner.

At this point, she wasn’t ruling anything out.

They went inside to find lunch, or rather, dinner underway, about half the seats filled.

Wallace was already there, talking with a couple of men beside the fireplace. Waiting for her?

She sighed. She admired him more each day. He was a hard worker, and his life had been difficult. It was a good thing he had such broad shoulders because, as she saw it, he had the weight of the world on them.

He glanced up and his expression lightened, and she was flooded with a rush of breathlessness.

She smiled at her own reaction.

She was simply flattered. Even now he watched her make her way toward him.

What if she were stuck here?

Would she really marry Wallace?

As she followed Dori, passing several long tables, and making her way around the room, she found herself frowning.

She wasn’t sure she was cut out for this life, and if she wasn’t, she needed to let go now.

Let him go.

What she didn’t need was to catch feelings for Wallace. She needed to go home while she still could.

If she still could.

Day by day, she’d been getting more attached, because the thought of leaving him made her feel … sad.

What if she arrived at Stirling, and she couldn’t go home?

Would she forever yearn for her old life, for her parents?

What if she made it to Stirling, and she could go home?

Would she always wonder what might’ve been with this big, gorgeous, honorable man?

That was a decision she might only be able to make once she arrived.

* * *

“Is there any chance you can take me back to Stirling Castle?”

Wallace bit back a sigh as he looked down into Cara’s earnest hazel eyes, and couldn’t help wanting to please her, but there was no reason to go.

The fair was long over, and only the residents of the castle, and the nearby villagers would be around. “Why do you wish to go there?”

Her gaze flickered down, and she seemed to think for a long moment.

“Lass?” Could there be someone at Stirling who’d captured her fancy? Because he still had difficulty believing the story of a far off time and place.

Even as his mood darkened at the thought of it, he reached out and with his fist, gently lifted her chin until he could see her eyes once more. “What, do you wish to see?”

“The touching stone.”

A chill went through him.

She wouldn’t truly wish to travel that distance, just to try and convince him of her story, would she?

She might if her story was true.

He thought of his mother, who was naught if not honest, and her version of the events that led her to marry his father.

He did not wish to think upon it.

“Nay, we will not be traveling to Stirling anytime soon. There is much to do here.”

At her crestfallen look, his chest tightened. He did wish to please her, he’d admit to himself, if to no one else.

“Besides which, you would not wish to miss the wedding, would you?”

“The wedding?”

“Aye, the queen’s niece. I thought mayhap we could ride north to our neighbors at Marshall Keep, as they are likely to be traveling to Newcastle as well. I could send a messenger to gain Marshall’s agreement.”

Apparently, he decided to take her.

He knew Lord Marshall married but recently, and reasoned that Cara might enjoy travel with a lady her own age. It would not hurt her to see a newlywed couple, and perhaps envision herself in such a role.

He liked the idea of that very much.

“But what about Stirling Castle? When can we go there?”

“I’m much too busy with preparations and do not have the time for it now.”

“I’m just asking, when?”

Impatience had him snapping. “I’ve not the time for such nonsense!”

He felt his suspicions rise again. Was it truly the touching stone she wished to see?

Or someone at the castle.

When she continued to argue, he simply turned and walked away.