Page 31 of When I Fall in Love (De Piaget #4)

J ennifer sat on the front steps of the hall and looked out over the courtyard. It probably wasn’t ladylike, but today she didn’t care. The last of the fortnight had been yesterday.

She had to tell him that day.

The day before had been a complete waste. She’d spent her entire day passing Nicholas while he was at the beck and call of his father, his mother, and his grandmother. She had watched him from afar. He’d waved. She’d waved back.

It had sucked.

Today, though, she would talk to him if it meant dragging him to the stables or seeking sanctuary in the chapel. One way or another, she had to get it over with. She had to tell him the truth. Then she would tell him she loved him.

And hope he loved her in return.

Miles sat beside her. Montgomery and John sat in front of her. In fact, it felt so much like the day when Nicholas had gone to Raventhorpe that she had to look at her clothes to put herself in the right time. She was wearing another of the simpler gowns Nicholas had had made for her. It fit perfectly and was long enough and for that alone she was grateful.

The door behind them opened.

“Move off the stairs, if you please,” said an imperious voice. “We’re off for another hunt and you’re in our way.”

She rose and hurried down the stairs with Montgomery, John, and Miles. Miles tucked her hand under his arm and put his hand over hers as many very finely dressed noblemen and women tromped down the stairs and headed for the stables.

Brigit of Islington looked at her and smirked.

Jennifer wondered what in the world that was supposed to mean, but she found that she simply didn’t care. She looked back at the other woman impassively and waited until the entire company had passed before she let out the breath she then realized she’d been holding.

“The saints be praised,” Miles muttered. “I could not see the last of them too soon. Perhaps they will leave today.”

“We could hope,” Jennifer said quietly. “Is every lord’s daughter so horrible?”

“I wouldn’t say all,” Miles said thoughtfully. “Some are simply stupid, others vain, still others shrewd and calculating. But a woman who is open and artless? Nay, you are the only woman, outside of my family, who I know to be that.” He looked down at her seriously. “You truly do love him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I do.”

“Damn it,” he grumbled.

Suddenly the front door was jerked open and Nicholas came bursting out of the hall. He tossed a blanket at John, saddlebags at Montgomery, and two bottles at Miles.

“Run,” he said, taking Jennifer by the hand and pulling her along with him.

“Run?” she asked, holding up her skirts and fleeing with him. “Why?”

“The company has gone hunting and my grandmother is sleeping. We must away if we want any peace today.”

She didn’t have to hear that twice. She fled with him out the gates and toward the ocean.

By the time they reached the beach, she was winded and unsure if she should laugh or cry. John spread out the blanket, Montgomery dumped his bags on the ground, and Miles carefully set the bottles down. Jennifer fell to her knees, gasping for breath. She looked at Nicholas, who had cast himself down as well and laughed in spite of herself.

“I hope this was worth the stitch in my side,” she wheezed.

Nicholas unbuckled his sword belt and laid his weapons aside. He sat up with his arms resting on his bent knees and looked at her with a smile. “Consider it all again in half an hour,” he said. “Just think on it. An entire day with nothing but the sight of the strand and the sound of the ocean.”

“What about the company back at the keep?”

“I couldn’t care less,” Nicholas said. “I am finished with humoring my grandmother. I have wasted a se’nnight I could have spent with you by humoring her. I am finished,” he said, his words clipped. “Finished.”

“I understand,” she said with a nod. And she did. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she could put off what she had to do that day.

It only took a few minutes before she’d caught her breath. Well, it was now or never. She turned her back on the lads, took off her shoes, and rolled down her stockings. She looked back at Nicholas.

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Do you care for company?”

She smiled, but it felt a little sad. “Yes, if it’s yours.”

He stood, put on his sword belt, stuck his knife in his boot, then pulled her to her feet.

He didn’t kiss her.

Jennifer tried not to read anything into it. She held his hand and walked down to the water’s edge.

“North or south?” he asked.

“Either. Both. I don’t care.”

He put his free hand on her shoulder and turned her toward him. He put his arms around her and held her to him for what felt a little like eternity. She rested her head against his chest, her ear pressed over his heart. It beat steadily, as if nothing would disturb it. Jennifer held on tightly, not regretting for a moment having given him her heart.

“Jen.”

She pulled back and looked up at him. “Aye, my lord?”

He smoothed his hand over her hair, then looked into her eyes. “I love you,” he said quietly.

She closed her eyes briefly. They burned. When she opened them, tears spilled down her chuks. “I love you, too,” she whispered.

He bent his head and kissed her. It was a simple kiss, quite different than any of his other kisses His self-control was firmly in check. When he lifted his head she smiled at him.

“No ravishing today?” she asked with half a smile.

He sighed. “There is aught I must tell you. I will ravish you later, if you’ll still allow it.”

She hugged him tightly. “I didn’t want this fortnight,” she said into his shirt. “I wanted to tell you all two weeks ago. Now,” she said, pulling back to look at him with tears streaming down her cheeks, “I don’t want to talk at all.”

“Then let us walk,” he said, putting his arm around her and drawing her arm around his waist. “Let us walk.”

Jennifer didn’t see much. It was hard when all she could do was cry.

“I’m not a weeper,” she said, her words coming out in a half sob.

“I know,” he said, reaching over to dab her eyes with a cloth he produced from some part of his person.

“Did you bring that for me?” she asked.

“Nay, for myself.”

She managed a laugh through her tears. “You didn’t.”

“Nay,” he said softly, “I didn’t.”

They walked for a very long time in silence. Finally Nicholas stopped. He took her hands and turned her toward him. “Well?” he asked softly. “Shall we have our speech together?”

She bowed her head. “We no doubt should.” She looked up at him. “Are you going to tell me you’re secretly wed?”

He smiled sadly. “You know I’m not. But what of you? Are you secretly wed?”

“I only have one heart to give,” she said, blinking hard. “And it’s yours.”

He pulled her off her feet and into his arms. He held her so tightly, she almost couldn’t breathe. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him back as tightly as she could.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he said against her ear.

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to.”

He held her for another eternal moment, then let her slide slowly down to her feet. “Then come and let us be about it. You have aught to tell me and I have aught to tell you. Shall we walk or do you prefer to find somewhere to sit?”

“Where would we go?” she asked, looking back down the beach. “The boys are down there—wait.” She frowned. “Is that Robin?”

“Bloody hell,” Nicholas cursed. “Have we not enough to endure without more of my family hounding us?”

“Nicholas, now Montgomery’s running this way.” She looked up at him, feeling a sudden panic. “Maybe something’s wrong. Let’s go find out.”

He nodded, then took her hand and ran with her down the beach. They met Montgomery, who looked wide-eyed and astonished.

“Jenner,” he said, hunching over with his hands on his knees, “you won’t believe it.”

“What?” she asked, willing to believe just about anything.

After all, it had been that kind of year so far.

He heaved himself upright. “Your kin are here.”

She staggered as if he’d struck her. “What?”

“Robin says so. Your sister and her husband.” He looked at Nicholas. “I wonder how they found her?”

“Montgomery, you can’t mean it,” Jennifer said, clutching Nicholas’s hand. “Robin has to be mistaken.”

“He isn’t. He said the man was a Scot. MacDougal was his name, I think. Is that right?”

Jennifer could hardly believe her ears. She thought she might start to hyperventilate soon. She clutched Nicholas’s hand and started to run back toward the castle. She stumbled in the sand and Nicholas pulled her upright. She looked up at him and felt a laugh burst from her in spite of her tears.

“My sister,” she said in amazement.

She pulled him forward again, then realized that he looked a little green. She stopped.

“Nicholas?”

“ ’Tis nothing,” he croaked. “I’m overjoyed for you.”

“I can’t believe it,” she said, still stunned beyond measure. “Can we hurry?”

“Of course,” he said. “Let us make haste. But you’re missing your shoes. I’ll fetch them and catch up with you.”

She nodded, but found she couldn’t move. She stood there, staring at Artane, trying to put it in the right century. Vic and Connor? It just wasn’t possible.

Within minutes, Nicholas had come back to her. He waited for her while she put her stockings and shoes back on, then hurried with her back toward the castle. It wasn’t easy running while holding hands, but she didn’t dare let go of him. She stumbled several times and each time he caught her before she went sprawling.

By the time they reached the barbican gate, she had to stop. She leaned against the wall and sucked in deep breaths. When she thought she could go on, she pulled Nicholas up the way with her. She couldn’t run anymore, though. She wasn’t all that sure she could walk.

But by the time she made it to the great hall, the butterflies in her stomach were fluttering so violently, she thought she might be sick. Nicholas opened the door for her and she walked inside. Once her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she realized that the hall was not empty. Rhys was standing next to one of his fireplaces, talking with a man and a woman dressed in medieval Scottish garb.

Connor MacDougal and her sister Victoria.

“Vic!” Jennifer cried out. She sprinted across the hall and threw herself into her sister’s arms. She pulled back. “I can’t believe it’s you! How did you get here? When did you get here?”

Vic looked at her with a frown. “What?”

Jennifer realized then that she was speaking in French. She threw her arms around her sister again and spoke in her ear in English. It felt very strange on her tongue.

“How did you get here?”

“How do you think?”

Jennifer pulled back, looked at her sister again, then burst into tears.

Victoria put her arms around her and held on. “I thought I’d never see you again, you nitwit. What in the world were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking,” she managed. “It just happened.”

“I’ll say.”

Jennifer cried until she couldn’t breathe anymore. Then she pulled away and used Nicholas’s handkerchief to dry her face off and blow her nose.

She froze.

Nicholas.

She turned around to find him. He was standing near his father, watching the whole scene with a grave expression. She smiled, then turned back to her sister.

“I want you to meet someone.”

“Someone?” Victoria echoed.

“Shut up and be nice,” Jennifer warned.

“I’m always nice.”

Jennifer pulled Victoria over and took Nicholas by the hand. “Nicholas, this is my sister,” she said in Gaelic, “Victoria McKinnon MacDougal. That’s her husband, Connor, laird of the clan MacDougal. Vic, this is Nicholas de Piaget.”

Nicholas took Victoria’s hand and bent low over it. “You look very much alike.”

“We might look alike,” Victoria agreed with a smile, “but I promise that Jenner’s nicer.”

“She is very kind,” he agreed.

Jennifer felt him squeeze her hand before he released it to extend his hand to Connor.

“My laird,” Nicholas said formally. “Welcome to Artane.”

Connor took his proffered hand. “My lord,” he said, just as formally. “Thank you for the welcome.”

Then he looked at Jennifer and jerked her over and into his arms. He slapped her back a time or two, kissed her on both cheeks, then deposited her back where he’d taken her from.

It was very awkward and very, very Connor. Jennifer had to laugh. The only woman Connor seemed able to handle gently was her sister.

“We worried,” was all he said.

“Laird MacDougal,” Rhys said in Gaelic, inclining his head, “perhaps you and your lady would care to take your ease in my solar.”

“How fortunate that you speak my tongue,” Connor said, sounding pleased. “And that is an impressive sword you have there, my lord.”

Rhys grinned. “We’ll examine the possibilities of both later. First, though, I’ll have your gear brought in from off your horses. We’re overrun at present by guests of my wife’s mother, but my solar is quite comfortable and we will see you installed there immediately.” He looked down. “Lady Victoria, might I carry that large sack for you?”

Victoria shook her head. “Thank you, my lord, but it is for Jennifer. She may prefer to carry it herself.”

Jennifer looked at what Victoria was picking up. She found a large rectangular rucksack thrust into her arms. The moment she put her arms around it, she knew what it was.

She looked at her sister in astonishment. “My violin,” she whispered.

Victoria raised one eyebrow, then walked off with Connor and Rhys.

Jennifer watched her go. She couldn’t believe she was watching her sister walk through medieval Artane with her medieval husband who was now a brilliant Shakespearean actor, along with she herself, in New York. She couldn’t believe that in her arms was her $60,000 Degani.

She paused.

Just what in the hell was Victoria thinking, to bring a violin that rare hundreds of years back in time?

She stood there in the hall for quite some time, trying to digest it all, then she remembered. She turned. Nicholas was standing in the same place, looking very, very lost and more serious than she had ever seen him. She attempted a smile.

She failed.

“That was my sister,” she whispered. “And her husband.”

“I know.”

“They came to find me.”

He nodded gravely.

“Do you want to come visit with them?” she asked hesitantly.

“If you would like me to.”

“Of course I would,” she said.

She wrapped one arm around her violin, then held out her hand for his. She started across the great hall, but it felt as if she were floating.

She was in medieval England; she knew that. But holding on to something from the future while holding on to Nicholas at the same time was about to tear her in two. She clutched his hand.

“Can you help me?” she whispered. “Suddenly I don’t feel very well.”

He swung her up into his arms. She started to cry again and this time she couldn’t stop. By the time they reached Rhys’s door, she knew she was in the process of losing it. She couldn’t see anymore for the tears and she couldn’t breathe. She reached up and touched Nicholas’s face.

“I can’t go in,” she wept. “I need to go somewhere private. Somewhere empty. Please.”

He tightened his arms around her and started to walk again. Jennifer had no idea where he was taking her. Maybe he thought she’d completely lost it and he was going to dump her and the Degani both into the dungeon. It might have been a good place for them.

He climbed stairs. That had to have been a delicate maneuver, what with her and the violin both in his arms. She lost count of the twists and turns. Finally, Nicholas walked into a very chilly chamber. He set her down carefully. Jennifer realized it was the tower chamber where she’d had her lessons in swordplay. She knew it wasn’t much past early afternoon, but the sky had suddenly become full of clouds, which made the room very gloomy.

“Wait,” he said quietly.

It wasn’t very long before he returned with two torches. He set them into sconces, then stopped. He looked at her gravely.

“What else can I do?”

“Can you tell them I need a bit of time?”

He nodded.

She took a deep breath. That was a little calming, but not much. “Come back,” she said. “Please.”

He nodded, his expression bleak. “I will.”

She watched him go, shutting the door behind him, then stood in the middle of a medieval tower room and tried to find a way to ground herself in reality.

It was altogether impossible.

She took the long bench that the de Piaget men had sat on to watch her train and pulled it into the middle of the room. Then she found two stools and set them nearby. She opened the drawcords of the sack and pulled out her violin case. She set it down on the bench and opened it.

She couldn’t bring herself to touch it.

She had never thought to see it again, yet there it was. She had never thought to see her family again, yet her sister and brother-in-law were sitting downstairs in Rhys de Piaget’s solar. She’d never thought to ever have a chance to go home again, yet now she knew there existed a gate that worked. Jamie would never have let Connor and Vic come through something that he hadn’t been convinced would bring them back home again.

That meant she could go with them.

But to do so, she would have to leave Nicholas in the past.

She buried her face in her hands and wept.