Page 17 of Halloween Knight (A Knights Through Time Romance #17)

When Lucy came to, she was slumped on a cold floor with a crick in her neck, and the smell of beer and wine in the back of her throat, reminding her of a college bar.

How long had she been unconscious? And where was she now?

Squinting into the gloom, Lucy struggled to sit up, only to find her wrists and ankles had been tied.

She tugged fiercely at the bonds, but only succeeded in rubbing her skin raw.

Exhausted by the effort, she slumped back against the stone wall, grateful her captors had allowed her to keep her cloak.

Some time later, the creak of a door opening roused Lucy again.

She’d thought she’d heard a Scottish accent and what sounded like fists hitting flesh, but it was quiet so she must have dreamt it, just like she’d sworn she’d looked into William’s eyes when her kidnappers had stopped along the way, but then again, she’d been seeing double after they bashed her on the head so most likely her mind made it all up because she needed him .

Two men entered the small room, cutting her bonds before hauling her upright. They held her between them, their grip firm and unrelenting as they marched Lucy from the room, down the corridor where she passed three men sitting at a small wooden table eating.

As she’d left the room, she’d gone up on her tiptoes to peek in the room across from hers, where she caught a glimpse of what could have been a man or a pile of rags in the room. No, it wasn’t a room, she’d call it like it was. It was a cell.

The ceiling was low, trickles of water ran down the stone walls, and the smell was overpowering. This had to be some kind of storage building for wine.

The men half-dragged her across the grounds to a large manor house.

They led her through a back door, where she didn’t see any servants bustling around. It was strangely quiet as they led her up a wooden staircase into a richly appointed solar opulently furnished with tapestries, carpets, and polished oak furniture.

Seated calmly in front of the hearth, watching Lucy intently, was a beautiful young woman in a heavily embroidered gown made of silk.

“You kidnapped me. In a church.”

Lucy was so angry, she wanted to hit something.

Not to mention one of those jerks had actually punched her in the face.

By the way her face hurt, she was betting she had a hell of a shiner.

One thing was certain, Lucy was going to have William and her guards teach her how to fight dirty when she got home.

And another thing, she was definitely getting out of here and going home…

as soon as she figured out how to escape.

At the woman’s nod, a man forced Lucy into a chair across from her.

The woman arched an elegant brow. “There was no other way.”

Then she smiled. “You sent away a man for taking one of the washerwomen and putting a babe in her belly.” She sat there looking bored as she spoke, sending a shock of fear through Lucy.

“That man enjoyed the drink, was more than happy to tell me all about the great Lord and Lady Blackford … and the passages throughout the castle. He also told me you had a sister that no one had ever seen or knew about.” The pretty woman looked like she’d just been given a bowl full of diamonds.

“He heard you talking to the bees about your sister.” The woman flicked her fingers as if flicking away a bug.

“I’m sure she’s dead by now. He said she was staying in one of the old towers and he would see to the deed himself.”

Somehow, Lucy kept her face blank. Her sisters were in America, in the future, blissfully going about their lives. The man obviously made it up about one of them in the tower so he could get more money out of this deranged woman.

She made a mental note to be careful when she talked to the raven that visited her, to make sure no one was lurking about eavesdropping.

“You sent the note saying you were my sister and in danger.”

The woman smiled as if Lucy was a child who’d just learned her ABCs.

“I did. ’Twas necessary to get you away from Blackford.”

Lucy’s tongue felt like wool in her mouth. “Why have you brought me here? Do you mean to ransom me?”

The woman laughed lightly. “Oh no, far better than ransom. I plan to kill you.”

Ice flooded Lucy’s veins at the casual words. She forced herself to meet the woman’s gaze, willing her knees to stop shaking as she pressed them together.

Lucy really looked at her. The woman couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen, and all at once it came back to her.

“I remember you. You were riding through the village with your husband. They said you beat a young serving girl for spilling your wine.” She narrowed her eyes. “How old are you?”

“Servants should be beaten so they know their place.” The girl tossed her stunning, thick auburn hair. “I’m seventeen.” An amused laugh followed.

“How rude of me. I am Lady Agnes Hedgethorn. Well, it seems now I am a widow. My poor husband passed of the pox only last night.”

She sneered at Lucy. “Blackford will be mine. It will never pass to your bastard son.”

That woman didn’t look like she gave two flying flips that her husband was dead. For a moment, Lucy wondered if she’d poisoned him?

“You are more bonkers than a raccoon swimming in moonshine, you know that, don’t you?”

Gratified by the look of hatred on Agnes’ face, Lucy couldn’t believe what had happened.

“Blackford belongs to my husband and then it will pass to my son.” Lucy met Agnes gaze, unflinching.

At that, Agnes threw back her head and cackled wildly. The sound raised the hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck. When at last the mad laughter subsided, Agnes fixed her with a vicious smirk.

“Poor little fool. Still, you cling to hopeless dreams. You will all be dead, the crows feasting on your bones, and Blackford will rightfully be mine.” Her teeth flashed against blood-red lips.

“Hell’s bells. You have got to be kidding me.” Lucy was too angry to be afraid. When she’d first fallen through time, Clement, William’s half-brother, had kidnapped her and hidden her in the undiscovered secret passages within the castle.

Clement had plotted to have William put to death for treason, and murdering Lucy would have been a bonus. The deranged man was going to drown her in the cistern, but she’d thrown back his own words, claiming she was a witch and told him witches couldn’t die by drowning.

He would have succeeded if it hadn’t been for the trusty raven who appeared and attacked Clement, allowing her precious seconds to escape.

What were the odds of her being as lucky a second time?

“I’d be more likely to win a big lottery jackpot,” she muttered to herself.

The beautiful, but unhinged woman with the stunning milky skin drew herself up to her full height, which Lucy guessed was about five feet, as the woman was a good six inches shorter than her.

“I will avenge Lady Georgina, William’s wife before you. The wife he murdered in cold blood.”

Agnes paused dramatically.

“She was my mother.”

“What the actual hell?” Lucy looked her up and down. “How is that even possible?”

Ice water flooded through her heart as old fears came back … until warmth pushed back, shoving old hurts from her past aside. William wasn’t even in the picture when Agnes had been born.

Agnes’ eyes sparkled. “My mother gave birth to me when she was sixteen.”

She took Lucy’s chin in her palm, so close that Lucy could see the gold flecks in her eyes.

“I will have my revenge.”

Lucy turned her head, jerking out of Agnes’ grasp.

“Whatever this is, it has nothing to do with my husband or I. William was nineteen when he married your mother.”

Fists clenched, Agnes whirled around.

“My mother was twenty-three.” The unhinged woman smiled. “She told him she was eighteen and a virgin, but she already had a daughter by another, hidden away to keep safe. I was only seven years old.”

“Surely William would have found out. He would have brought you to Blackford, raised you as his own.” Please let her keep talking so Lucy could figure out a way to escape.

“Lies.” The woman scowled. “You’re trying to trick me. You don’t know anything. My mother was supposed to send for me, but he killed her before she could.”

Lucy shook her head. “William didn’t kill your mother.

She had a lover. A man she met in the village.

That man was poor, so she found him a position at Blackford, and when she thought they would be found out, they decided she would fake her death and run away with the man.

They both died of the fever, so my husband couldn’t clear his name. ”

Agnes shook her head, staring into the fire. When she whirled around, Lucy thought she might strike her.

“The Butcher of Blackford murdered my mother. My cousin told me so. Stop trying to confuse me.”

Lucy leaned forward in the chair, conscious of the two men behind her, silently standing guard.

“Your mother had a terrible temper. She was cruel and treated everyone with scorn. She might have been beautiful on the outside, but on the inside, she was ugly. Just like you.”

Lucy took a chance. “Are we on your cousin’s estate? He has coveted Blackford ever since the king gave it to William.”

Agnes paced back and forth, the swish of her skirts loud in the small room. Her face twisted in torment before she whirled around to face Lucy.

"You think you know everything, but you understand nothing," Agnes spat.

Chest heaving, she leaned against the wall. “I lived with my cousin.” Agnes' eyes glazed over, lost in the past. "At first he was kind, like the father I'd lost. But over the years, he poisoned everything, whispering lies, twisting the truth."

She gripped her arms, fingernails digging into the rich velvet. "He told me William wanted my mother dead because she had shamed him. He vowed we'd have revenge, restore our family name.”

The crazed woman blinked. “And now he is dead.”

Then she smiled, a chilling smile that made Lucy cold all over.

“I poisoned him. Mushrooms in his soup. Mayhap I will poison you.”

She had to get through to Agnes. “Your mother died of a fever, and out of grief, her lover took his own life. William found them together.”

The woman slapped her hard across the face, making Lucy’s eyes water.

“Lies. My cousin told me the truth. It was William’s fault we were poor. He murdered her and stole her money.”

Agnes was pacing back and forth, her breath coming faster and faster .

“Please, let me send a message to William. He will come and tell you what happened himself.”

Lucy knew even as she said it that it was futile. Nothing would dissuade Agnes from the retribution she sought.

Agnes took a deep breath, brushing her palms down her dress as she pulled herself together.

“Enough. The time for talk is over. You will share my mother’s fate.”

She turned toward the door, stopped and looked over her shoulder.

“A life for a life.”

With that, Agnes swept from the room, the door closing behind her.

Alone again except for the men tasked with watching her, tears spilled down Lucy’s cheeks, dripping onto the stone.

Thomas and her guardsmen did not know what had happened.

William was away on the king’s business and wouldn’t know what had happened until it was too late.

And her children. If Agnes succeeded, they would grow up without her.

Panic threatened to choke her, but she fought to stay calm.

As long as she still drew breath, there was hope.

The men roughly hauled her up as Lucy shook her arm free. With her haughtiest gaze, she put her hands on her hips.

“Unhand me. I will go back to that wretched cell without you pawing at me.”

As much as she wanted to make a run for it, she knew they’d catch her, so Lucy would bide her time, figure out a way to escape.

Back in the cell, she inspected the room, but found no means of escape.

The sound of footsteps broke her out of her thoughts as a servant entered while two of the guards stood by the door .

“Beggin’ your pardon,” the servant said. “I have brought supper.”

Lucy eyed the food warily, thinking of the poison mushrooms, but decided Agnes would rather watch her die in person.

Too weary to fight, she knew she needed to eat to keep her strength up, to be ready if the opportunity presented itself to escape.

The servant took food to the man in the cell across from her. When Lucy tried to catch his eye, he gave a tiny shake of his head, then gave a slight jerk of the chin to his left. When she leaned forward, she could see the two guards at the end of the corridor, sitting at a table, drinking.

At least she’d had the foresight to pull her hair ribbon loose with her teeth and drop it on a branch as they rode.

The white band around her finger where her ring had been made Lucy wince.

She felt naked without her wedding ring.

She’d pulled the ring off at the chapel and threw it at the wall when the men had taken her, hoping her men would find it and know she’d been taken.

No longer able to fight off fatigue, Lucy curled up in her cloak and slipped into a fitful sleep, her dreams haunted by visions of William’s anguish when he learned of her demise.