Page 9 of Last Knight (Knights Through Time #7)

Ashley had finished congratulating herself on keeping left when she came upon a scene straight out of a chocolate-induced nightmare.

On her right, a monkey swung from the trees.

To the left, a zebra ran through the field, and was that…

? It couldn’t be. Oh yes it was: a tiger ran in front of the car and bounded after the zebra.

Tires squealed as she slammed on the brakes, coming to a stop inches from a deep ditch.

Fingers crossed, she hoped the zebra would get away.

Up ahead lay an overturned truck. People were running around checking the remaining cages and looking helplessly up at the monkey. Too stunned to laugh, she slowed down as a policeman motioned her to stop.

“The highway’s closed while we catch the animals, miss. Turn right up ahead then take a left past the old church, a right past the twisted tree, and another right past the bridge. Then you’ll see signs to get back on the motorway.”

“Got it. Good luck catching them.” She mentally recited the directions as she made the turn up ahead, though she hoped the animals might find a place to live in the countryside where they wouldn’t bother anyone.

A remnant hope left over from all the books she’d read as a kid.

The books with talking animals were her favorites.

The world was changing. Would a zoo be the only place to see wild animals in the next twenty or thirty years? She hoped not.

A half-hour later as the roads narrowed until she was on what looked like an overgrown sidewalk, she had to concede she was lost and had missed a turn along the way.

The map on the phone took over, and as she followed the directions, she thought about her presentation at the London office later this week. It had to go well.

Busy thinking about the graphs and charts she needed to update, Ashley frowned. The phone hadn’t said anything for ages, the sun had set, and a glance at the screen told her it was five o’clock. She should have been close to London by now. What happened?

There was a place up ahead to fill up, so she pulled over and looked at the directions. This was not her day. Somehow she must’ve incorrectly entered the address. So she put it in again. After paying for the gas and a water, she was on the way.

According to the navigation, another hour and a half to London. That would put her at the party at nine thirty—pushing it but still doable. She was humming along to the radio, following the turns, when the voice said, “You have arrived at your destination. Your destination is on the left.”

“What the hell?” The phone showed the end of the journey, but that couldn’t be right.

She’d gone from the road to stone, and now to a narrow, grassy road that looked like nothing more than a dirt path up ahead.

There had to be a place to turn around up ahead—no way she could manage it here—so she kept going and found herself driving on grass again when the road abruptly ended.

She got out of the car to stare through the growing darkness at the surrounding countryside .

“Where the hell am I?”

“Having a spot of trouble?”

Ashley’s mouth fell open at the sight the car headlights illuminated.

It was a guy—no, make that a model—on an actual horse.

What was a model doing cavorting about the countryside?

Because something about him made cavorting the only appropriate word to fit, with his long black hair, perfect dimples in his chin and cheeks, and, oh, let’s not forget the eyes so blue they looked fake.

He wore a pair of old jeans, a sweater, and what she guessed was a Barbour jacket.

Ben had one just like it. She rubbed her eyes in case she was hallucinating.

Nope. He was still there. It was as if she’d wandered into a shoot for a magazine.

“There was a detour on the highway and I got turned around.” She held up the phone. “I think my maps app played a trick on me. I don’t suppose I’m going to find London over that next hill, am I?”

The model blinked at her. “London? You are lost. That must have been some kind of crazy wrong turn. You’re not even in the right country. This is Wales.”

No, no, no. This wouldn’t do. “You have got to be kidding me. There’s no way I’m in Wales. I left Wales this morning.”

She was so busy picturing herself packing up her office and sitting alone in her apartment eating cheesecake day and night that it took a moment to realize he was talking to her.

“Miss?”

“Sorry?” Ashley snapped out of it. “Okay, forget London. This is where I have to be by eleven at the very latest tonight.” She showed him the address.

“I know the place. Did a shoot out there last month. It’s in the countryside; you’ve got a good long drive ahead.”

An odd shaky feeling started in her legs, moving up to her arms, and sounds were muffled like she had cotton in her ears. His voice sounded like it was coming from a cartoon.

Don’t panic. You’ve got this. There was no way she was losing out on her promotion all because the maps app was possessed .

“Is there any shopping nearby? Or a Halloween store? I need a medieval-style dress for a costume party tonight. It’s really important.”

The guy, who was way too good-looking to be human, stuck his tongue in the corner of his mouth as he thought about her question. As she was about to scream, his face brightened.

“Old Mary makes costumes for the theater company. I’m sure she’ll have something. I’ll take you.”

“Won’t the car spook your horse?”

“Leave it here. You can ride with me. It will be faster, and I’ll bring you right back.”

“On that? In the dark?”

He looked offended. “She isn’t a that , and she knows her way.” He patted the horse and leaned down to whisper in the animal’s ear. “Don’t mind her. She’s just a mean old Yank.

“The roads between here and the village are narrow, some barely wide enough for the horse. Your car won’t fit.”

Ashley eyed the horse.

“Don’t worry; she won’t bite.” Then he winked at her. “Unless you keep offending her.”

With another glance at her watch, a sigh escaped. “All right. But we have to hurry.”

He dismounted and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing. Then he climbed up behind her, put one arm around her waist, making her flinch, and took the reins.

“It’s just so you won’t fall off. You’re not my type.”

She stiffened in the saddle. “I knew that.”

He chuckled and made some kind of clucking noise to make the horse go forward.

Could they go any slower? At this rate, she’d have wrinkles by the time they made it to the village.

The horse stepped over a branch, and Ashley looked down for the twentieth time, the dark playing tricks on her.

When she first saw the horse it didn’t seem that high up, but now, riding on its back, it seemed a really long way to the ground if she fell.

The smell was back. She sniffed. Was it coming from the horse or the saddle or both?

Another sniff told her it was both, though it was probably normal animal smells.

Ugh, it was worse than some of the subway stations in the city.

The model’s cologne mixed with the horse smell, making her slightly nauseated.

Figured she was wearing her sweater dress and boots, the ones that made her feel invincible.

Too bad they weren’t working on this trip.

It was a quaint town straight out of an old movie.

The guy, whose name she still didn’t know, rode to the end of the street, turned left, and stopped in front of a hobbit-sized house sitting slightly apart from its neighbors, windows glowing, and smoke coming from the chimney.

Ashley had the oddest feeling that a witch lived inside.

When he lifted her off the horse, she lost her balance. Thank goodness he caught her before she hit the ground.

“You’ve never ridden before.” He said it like it was some terrible thing, like she’d never used a fork to eat with, so it took considerable willpower not to give him the finger.

“No. I live in New York City. We use cars, buses, cabs, or the subway for transportation. Not horses.”

The guy winced. “All that concrete and steel, no fresh air. How do you stand it?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

The door to the tiny house swung open and a tiny lady with blue hair peered out before she turned around to push a dog back inside. She was dressed in a pink velour tracksuit with the words sexy grandma across her butt, making Ashley grin.

“Who do we have here, Douglas?”

The guy, apparently named Douglas, hugged the woman, kissing her wrinkled cheek. The scent of lavender drifted toward Ashley, tickling her nose.

“Found her up on the old sheep path. She’d taken a wrong turn, thought she was in England, says she needs a dress for a party tonight.”

The woman pursed her lips. “Come along inside and we’ll fix you up.”

It had taken Christian ten days to journey from Ravenskirk to the tavern in Wales where he would meet his partner.

He had not told his brother the truth, for his men were not meeting him along the way.

Two of his most trusted guards were already in Wales, staying at the tavern where Christian would transact his business.

What he was about to do was between the three of them, and no one else would know.

Meeting a smuggler would be frowned upon by his family—well, perchance not John, since he had been the Bandit of the Wood, but still, ’twas a risk, and Christian did not want to expose his family to danger.

He had his reasons. Two of them. One was he needed gold to continue his other labors, and two, he chafed at the tax collected on his wool.

Winterforth produced high-quality wool, known throughout the realm.

This summer he had added to his flock, and ’twas now four thousand strong.

Every year the wool was taken to Westminster to be sold, and every year he grew angrier and angrier at the amount of taxes collected.