Page 22 of Last Knight (Knights Through Time #7)

Ashley had come to recognize the tone in Christian’s voice when he was angry. Spending twenty-four hours a day with him, she’d learned his moods, knew him better than Ben. By the tic in his jaw, he was not just annoyed, he was furious. Who owned Winterforth and why were they so important?

It hurt deeper than she thought hearing him say a woman wasn’t a woman if she couldn’t have kids.

Her heart sank knowing how important children were to him.

Deal-breaker territory. For her, a deal breaker was a guy who wasn’t ambitious or didn’t want to work.

With those lines drawn, there could be no future for them, since she could not give him the one thing he wanted above all else.

Not being able to have children had never bothered her before… not until today.

While other little girls played pretend weddings with dolls and dreamed of getting married and having families, Ashley used to play school and office.

An old, battered briefcase belonging to her dad went everywhere with her.

When she played, she was always the teacher or CEO of the company.

There wasn’t a single instance she could remember she’d ever played wedding or even thought about getting married.

Sure, she’d thought someday she’d get married.

And later, when she knew she was unable to have children, she accepted her new reality and went on with her life.

There was a woman at work who couldn’t have children and desperately wanted them, and it was heartbreaking.

Ashley wished the woman could have her heart’s desire.

But her? She’d never felt the yearning for a child of her own.

To hold flesh and blood in her arms, knowing she and her husband had created the baby.

More power to all those who wanted to procreate, but not her.

Two of her friends from college got married when they graduated and immediately got pregnant.

When she held their babies, Ashley thought they were cute, but that was it.

All she thought about was how much sleep she would lose and how much time she would have to devote to another human being.

Happy being childless, Ashley respected others’ wishes to have babies.

Saw the joy it brought her friends as they went on and on about how having a baby had changed them.

Made them less selfish and more aware of the world around them.

No longer self-absorbed. While she hoped she had grown out of that phase over the past couple of years, Ashley didn’t know if having a child would change her—or would it?

But in the end, it didn’t really matter, because she would never know.

Being with Christian made her wonder if she hadn’t had surgery so long ago, might she have made different choices or felt differently?

Maybe some people just weren’t meant to have children.

She’d seen a few parents she thought would’ve been better off never having kids, and she’d seen others that didn’t have kids that she thought would be wonderful parents.

Tired of thinking about it, she was about to ask Christian a question, when they rode through the trees and there was a massive fortress.

“That’s a castle. ”

“Aye, ’tis Winterforth.”

“You didn’t tell me we were going to a castle.”

Before she knew it, they came to a bridge over a river.

She looked down, remembering the last time she’d been on a bridge over a river.

It hadn’t ended well. They rode across, and she clenched her hands together as the horse’s hooves clattered on the wood, and over and over she repeated the same words: “Please don’t let us go over. ”

The bridge held, and they passed under a pointed gate and into the castle proper.

There were people everywhere, running around doing who knew what.

The clang of metal was loud as a group of men fought with swords.

A few were shooting arrows at targets, others wrestled, but her attention was pulled back to the men fighting with swords.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, the scene in the woods clear in her mind, the one that ended with two men dead.

“Breathe. You are safe, Mistress Ashley. I will not let you fall.”

Christian. He knew she was about to hyperventilate. A few deep breaths and Ashley’s mind processed the scene. A living, breathing, functioning castle. While she’d never been one for history, sitting on a horse with a medieval man in the middle of a castle courtyard certainly gave her pause.

Up until now she had accepted she was in the past, tried to blend in. But there was something about seeing a functioning castle that made everything seem permanent. Christian lived in an actual castle. On a day-to-day basis.

Something else bothered her as they rode into the courtyard. Something wasn’t quite right. Ashley couldn’t put her finger on it, was trying to figure out what it was, when a man approached.

“My lord, I sent men out to search for you when your horse arrived riderless.”

“We ran into a spot of mischief, nothing to worry over.” Christian grinned. “Mayhap next time the thieves will think before they steal from a Thornton. ”

Ashley was a tornado forming in the sky ready to touch down and obliterate everything in her path. Oblivious to her mood, Christian dismounted and lifted her off the horse, and it took everything she had not to kick him in the gut.

While she stood there fuming, another man approached, a small man with what looked like scrolls of paper in his arms. He made a little bow in front of Christian.

“My lord, I am pleased you have returned unharmed. A messenger arrived a few days ago to bring wondrous news. Your betrothed will be here in a se’nnight.”

“We must be prepared.” He looked at Ashley and frowned. “Mistress Ashley requires a dress. See it is done.”

“Of course, my lord.”

She’d had enough. “My lord? Betrothed?” Ashley glared and poked him in the chest. “Who in the hell are you? Did it slip your mind to tell me these little tidbits?”

The little man looked at her with a sniff. She didn’t know how he did it, since he was a good six inches shorter than she, but he looked down his nose at her and sneered.

“You, lady, have been traveling with Christian Thornton, Lord Winterforth.” The man turned his attention back to Christian. “Shall I have a bath prepared?”

She stamped her foot, and it felt good. Really good. Now she knew why he stomped about and bellowed all the time. Ashley poked Christian again.

“You lied to me, you big jerk. You’ve been lying to me since we met.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “To think I thought about staying with you. How could I be so stupid.”

“Later,” Christian said to the man.

Then he took her by the arm. “’Tis not the place. Come with me.”

She didn’t have much choice, since he practically dragged her into the castle.

They entered a huge room—the great hall, maybe?

And not for the first time since arriving in the past, Ashley wished she’d taken more of an interest in history.

Wished she’d paid more attention to the dates and the events of this time.

The inside of the castle wasn’t at all what she expected.

She had thought there would be dirty floors, snarling dogs, and gray stone, dripping water everywhere.

But it wasn’t at all like that. The room they passed through would have made her happy to curl up in front of the fire with a good book, though it was chilly, even with the fires roaring.

The floors were stone, the walls were painted and paneled in wood, and there were tapestries and paintings hanging on the walls.

There were multiple fireplaces with fires crackling, large enough she could have fit a whole group of supermodels and a sports car in one of them.

People nodded to him, welcoming him back as they openly stared at her, the curiosity plain on their faces.

Ignoring them all, Christian dragged her through the room and up the stairs, where they came to a door. He shoved it open to show her a bedroom.

“Your chamber while you are at Winterforth.”

Ashley stepped into the beautiful room. There was a large, heavy bed, a small trunk at the foot of the bed, and a table with a pitcher and basin. She pushed down on the bed.

“I was expecting straw, but it looks like you have a real mattress and bedding. I’m going to sleep like the dead tonight.” She whirled around. “But I’m still angry with you.”

“Hrumph. ’Tis not as extravagant as the king, but ’twill do.

There is straw on the bottom with a feather mattress on top.

You will find the sheets linen, the pillows made from feathers.

” His mouth twitched—he was likely thinking of the chickens, but was wise enough not to laugh. “And woolen blankets to keep you warm.”

She looked around, noticing a pipe coming out of the wall, but didn’t see any entrances to other doors.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

He led her down the hallway and opened another door. It didn’t smell as she thought it might. The rush of cold air coming through the window open to the outside was probably why. The fresh air carried away the stink.

“The garderobe.” He pointed to a stone bench with a seat in the middle. “’Tis covered in cloth; the waste falls down the chute into a barrel, which is emptied into a pit. There is plenty of wool and linen to…wipe, along with the jug of water to wash when you are done.”

His cheeks were pink, his ears stuck out, and while it used to be cute, now he looked like an elephant—at least, that was what she told herself.

At the end of the hallway, he opened another door. Immediately, she knew the room was where he spent a great deal of time. It had that faint scent that reminded her of him, and it was the most masculine room she’d ever seen—and that was saying something, given Ben’s man cave.

“My solar.” He led her to a chair in front of the fire, and she frowned. She looked at the cushions on the chair. They reminded her of chairs she’d seen in stores back home, which was completely crazy.

“I beseech you, sit and listen.”

While she sat, he paced back and forth in front of the fire, his boots not making a sound on the priceless-looking rug.

Christian ran a hand through his hair, making it stick out. He sighed.

“I simply wanted to be Christian. Not the laughingstock of all of England and Wales, and probably Scotland and France by now as well.”

“You should’ve told me. You lied to me.”

“Aye, I did. Yet I would ask, is there anything you wish to tell me?”

She blinked at him, startled. “Me? No. Why?”

Christian stomped over to the door and flung it open, bellowing into the hallway for wine.

She was about to tell him he needed to go find someone instead of yelling, when a few minutes later a servant hurried in, breathless, carrying a tray with two goblets.

It was good to be the lord of your own castle.

They sat in silence, the only sound coming from him tapping his fingers on the wood chair. Finally, as if he had decided something, he leaned forward, hands on his knees.

“The night you were in your cups. You told me from whence you hail.”

Her hand jerked, and the wine sloshed onto her sleeve and into her lap. But the dress couldn’t get much filthier at this point, so she blotted it and ignored the stain, which kind of looked like she’d been stabbed. Nope, not going there.

“I did?” She was afraid of what he was going to say, yet somehow she knew.

“New York City. The Year of our Lord 2016.”

She grasped her knees to her chest, curling up into a ball in the chair.

“I can’t believe I told you. I’ve been trying so hard to fit in. I’m afraid to ask—what else did I tell you?”

He told her the rest, about her upbringing, but not about the other thing.

Relief poured through her body even as the sharp look on his face told her he suspected there were other things she wasn’t telling him.

And there were, but they weren’t things that were really important.

At least not anymore. Because he had a damned fiancée.

Ashley did what she always did when she felt threatened: she went on the attack.

“Quit making this all about me. What about you? Did it somehow slip your mind you have a fiancée?” she thundered, her face hot and palms sweaty.

“Let me make plain?—”

She stood, gripping the silver goblet so hard she was surprised she didn’t dent the thing.

“I can’t do this right now. I need air.”

Christian bellowed, and this time a teenage boy appeared .

“Don’t let her out of your sight.”

“She’s powerful angry.” The boy grinned. “Women.”

Christian scrubbed a hand over his face. “Aye, women.”

She whirled around, stomping and grumbling down the stairs, through the hall and outside as the boy ran to catch up with her. He held the door for her as she stormed out. They walked around the castle grounds, but she felt trapped and closed in.

“Is there someplace we can go to get higher? To see more?”

She knew what it was like to be laughed at.

Had put up with it at her job, which was dominated by men.

And if she really thought about it, she was mostly angry because she knew she had fallen for him.

Begun thinking about what it might be like to stay, give up everything she cared about.

That was, until she found out he was engaged.

Up on the battlements, the boy gave her his cloak. “To keep you warm.” He frowned at her. “Might the lady want to change clothes and have a bath?”

“Thanks for the cloak. Do I stink?”

“A bit.”

“I know. First I need to think, then a bath, a gown, and food.”

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked so much like Christian that she had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. The boy obviously had a severe case of hero worship.

“I will be here while you pace, lady. Even if we are here all night.”