Chapter 17

The night before the wedding, snow fell heavily from the cloudy dark sky. It covered the castle grounds and village with a blanket of smooth whiteness. From atop the second floor of the castle, Kristy let go a dreamy sigh as she looked out on the beauty the snow had created, from her ************************************************************ ****
"Kristy, for Heaven's sake! Shut the bloody window before you freeze us!" Sidra command through chattering teeth, as she sat in a chair in the middle of Kristy's room. The day of her visit to the painter, she had come back and moved her things into another room, Darian had never said a word about it. Darian, from that day, hadn't said a word to her about anything at all. He was still angry with her for betraying him and she was now angry with him for being angry in the first place! Neither one was going to bend, neither willing to cross that line, They were at a complete stalemate.
Reluctantly she reached and closed the ************************************************************ **** "Alright, I just love the snow, though. It reminds me of when I was a child, building snowmen, making snow ice-cream, and all that." She walked to Sidra and started combing though her sister—in—law's golden tresses.
"Snowmen? Snow ice-cream?"
Kristy laughed. "I assure you, you would have enjoyed both!"
Sidra laughed with her, then looked down at her lap. She picked up one of the many torn strips of linen that she was holding. "Are you sure this is going to work?"
"Yeah, just trust me." Kristy took the cloth from her grasp and started winding her hair around the material. "My grandmother said this is what they used to do before perms and hot rollers!" She saw that Sidra had no idea what she was talking about and quickly explained, "That is modern ways of making your hair curly! True, you will look like a rag—a—muffin, when I am through with you tonight, but tomorrow you will have beautiful golden curls all over your pretty head!" she promised as she picked up another strip.
"Will Tilden like this new hair style that you are planning?" she asked warily.
"Tilden will drop his jaw when he sees you, I promise!"
Sidra laughed. "Good!" She let out a sigh, then and confided, " Oh, Kristy, I cannot wait till tomorrow afternoon. Just to think that Tilden will be mine, forever and ever,"
Kristy smiled. "It will come. It may seemed like time will drag, but I can promise it will come just the same,"
A lapse of silence fell upon them as Kristy concentrated on her hairstyling efforts. She accidentally pulled too hard on a stand of Sidra's hair and heard a loud, "Ow!"
"Sorry." She eased her hold and continued to wind the silky blond strand around the folds of the linen,
"Kristy?"
"Hmmm?"
"Can you feel the baby, yet?"
A proud grin curved her lips as she cast an unconscious glance down at her barely swollen belly. "No. Not yet. But my waist is definitely starting to thicken. A few more weeks and the dressmakers will have to start sewing me some new cloths!"
"Speaking of clothes! I cannot wait to put on that glorious silk gown, tomorrow. What did you call those little fasteners you had the smith make?" Sidra queried, tilting her head back?
Kristy nudged her head back forward, "Buttons. But do not let that little secret out. I have probably created some grave historical faux pas by bringing them into existence before their time! True, most buttons in my day were not made of pure silver such as yours, but I'm sure whoever is suppose to invent them in the future would think it was rather remiss of me to beat him to the punch!" She laughed.
"The seamstress managed to hide their appearance quite well, so you mustn't worry." she assured.
A naughty grin lit her features and she pulled Sidra's head back so she could see her face, "It is you who should be worried. Tilden will probably be cursing a blue streak when he can't figure out how to undo those pretty little buttons!" For that indecent remark she received a face full of ripped up rags.
"Kristy Maxwell, have you no shame!" Sidra gasped, coloring a nice shade a red.
Kristy threw the rags back in her lap and laughed. "Sidra Maxwell, you cannot sit there and tell me you have not been thinking alone those very lines! I've seen you two kiss, and those lusty looks that pass between you when you think no one sees!"
Sidra tried to look appalled but couldn't control the smile that trembled behind her lips. "You are scandalous! But you are right. I have been thinking about it!"
Kristy grinned. "You would not be human, if you didn't!"
Sidra hated to ask the next question, but couldn't stop herself. "Kristy, I've noticed that things are worse between you and my brother. Do you…well…still love him?"
Kristy gave a heartfelt sigh as she knotted the last makeshift roller to Sidra's golden head. "Yes, I still love him for all the good it does me," she grumbled. "But I'm realistic, too. Darien refuses to believe me. I cannot live peacefully with him if he thinks me untrustworthy."
"Oh, Kristy. I don't like the sound of this! Your going back aren't you." Sidra accused, coming out of the chair and gripping Kristy's arm.
Kristy couldn't meet her eyes. "Yes. I don't know when I'll see Jubal again. But I'm going to tell him I want to return."
Sidra studied her friend's face. There were circles under her pretty blue eyes and worry lines were etched in her forehead. She threw her arms around her and hugged tight. "I understand. I don't think I could stand my husbands mistrust either. But I will miss you terribly."
Kristy returned her hug. "I will miss you, too. I wish…well I wish that it didn't have to be this way. My baby will never know his father, but he will be assured a safe delivery in a clean hospital. I will tell him only good things about him, how brave and strong he was. And he will grow up to be just like him, but this boy won't have his bitterness. He will know only love and happiness. If I stay here, bitterness and distrust will be all he will know. Our son deserves better." She wasn't really telling all this to Sidra. It was more an attempt to further convince herself that she was doing the right thing.
Sidra pulled away and wiped her wet cheeks. "Have you told Darian?"
She shook her head. "No. But after the wedding I intend to tell him everything about me. Then I'll tell him I'm going back." She made a feeble attempt to smile. "Maybe he will prefer the REAL Christiana."
Sidra gripped Kristy's hand. "He loves YOU, Kristy. " Kristy started to disagree but Sidra stopped her. "No, I know you do not believe that, but I know my brother. I also know that he is stubborn and does not like to admit he is wrong. Despite what you think, Kristy, HE will be deeply grieved that you are leaving. And he will be bloody upset that you are taking with you, his heir!" She said the last part with a slight wince,
Kristy pulled her hands back from Sidra's gentle grasp and walked back over to the ************************************************************ **** "I know that taking his child will hurt him deeply. But neither can I have the child and then leave him. He will be the only thing that I shall have of Darian's and I could never give my own child up. I just couldn't."
"Have you noticed that you have referred to this baby as being a 'he'?" Sidra asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Kristy turned and grinned. "I guess its wishful thinking on my part. I want the baby to be the spitting image of his father. So every time I look at him, I will remember. And I will remember how much I loved Darian and how our son was the product of that love." Her gaze left Sidra's eyes and went upward. All the sudden, she started laughing.
"What...?" Sidra began.
Kristy pointed up to her hair, "You should see yourself!"
Sidra ran to the little mirror above Kristy's dressing table. "Oh my…Good Lord!" She joined in the laughter. "What have you done to me?"
"Tomorrow, after I am finished with you, you will see that it was all worth it!" Kristy assured.
Just then a knock on the door sounded and Nan came breezing into the room. She took a look and Sidra and drew back, putting her hand over her mouth. "Lady Sidra! What have you done to your hair!"
Both the girls crumbled in laughter, again. "I've curled it. Tomorrow she will have a head full of pretty curls!" Kristy explained. Sidra stayed a little longer then went on back to her own chamber.
Nan helped Kristy dress for bed. "Milady?" Nan spoke.
"What, Nan?"
"I hope you do not feel it is improper of me to speak so, but I felt I should tell you how proud I am of you, Ma'am." She sat Kristy in a chair and started braiding her hair.
"Proud of me?"
"Yes, Milady. Since we have been here at Greystone, you have been through a lot, I must say. And you handled everything with a maturity I have never known you to possess. I know it hasn't been easy, with your husband. But instead of fighting with him, like I am sure that you would do in the past, you've shown him an example of unwavering love and tried to be patient with him." Nan voice contained a mixture of pride and approval for Kristy.
Kristy siqned. "All that 'unwavering love' hasn't got me anywhere, Nan. My husband hates me," she said dully.
"Oh, Milady. He will come around. All of us here in the castle know that you were taken by that evil Lord Worthingham by force and not because you wanted to go with him. He will come to believe that, too.
Kristy walked over to her bed and crawled in between the fur and sheets. Nan put a hot brick at the foot of her bed to keep her feet warm and then tucked the covers around her as if she was a child. Old habits, Kristy thought.
She looked up as Nan was headed out of the chamber. "Nan?"
"Yes, Lady Kristy?" Nan had started using her real name, also.
"I guess I'm not the same person that I was before."
"You are the same, milady, only better and more mature." Nan assured and closed the door softly behind her.
"No, Nan, I'm not the same person. But you will have your Christiana, back soon. Real soon." she said to the darkness. Then fell into an restless sleep.
Lord and Lady Thackery exited the exquisitely furnished coach, into the crisp morning air. Aileen Thackery looked about the vast Greystone courtyard and commented, "We must be the first to have arrived."
Byron Thackery stepped up beside his wife and agreed. "Does this make us rather unfashionable, do you think?" he queried, in his deep baritone voice.
Lady Thackery looked up at her graying, but still very handsome husband and answered with a smile, "Nay. After all we are the brides favorite aunt and uncle, are we not! So that makes us 'fashionably' anxious to see the bride!"
He laughed. "Ah, well put, my lady, well put!" He folded her hand about his arm and escorted his wife into the castle.
The servant at the door announced them and a beautiful raven haired woman, draped exquisitely in royal blue silk came up and greeted them.
"You must be Darian and Sidra's aunt and uncle. I am Kristy, Darian's wife." She said with exceeding charm and graciousness, as one would have expected of a countess.
"Ah, Lady Kristy, when we heard that Darian had been ordered to marry by the king, we wondered at what sort of a woman a king would bestow on a man. It seems that our king has extraordinary good taste, for you are, indeed, more beautiful than we had imagined. Darian has been blessed!" Lord Thackery commented smoothly, bending over her hand and kissing it softly.
Lady Thackery smiled at her husbands flowery speech and held her hand out to Kristy when Byron had released it. "My husband's charming flattery is all true. We are very pleased to welcome you into the family. And I insist you call us Aunt Aileen and Uncle Byron.
Kristy returned their smiles, "And you must drop the lady and call me Kristy." She turned to Aileen and asked, "Would you like to go up to see Sidra? She is dressing in her chamber."
Aileen nodded and Kristy took her up the stairs. Byron walked on into the great hall and accepted a mug of ale offered by one of the serving wenches.
"Uncle! It is good to see you!" came a booming voice behind him and Byron knew who it was before having looked around.
"Darien," he returned with a smile when he turned around, and clasp his nephew in a quick, hard embrace. "I just met your very beautiful wife, I wager you do not venture that often from home with that one about!"
The response Byron received confused him. Darien lifted a dark eyebrow and muttered, "Indeed…" Then quickly changed the subject.
Ah! thought Lord Thackery, so all is not well with his nephew and his wife. He had hoped that the woman had broken through Darian's tough exterior and had shown him how to love and trust again. He sighed, half listening to what Darien was saying to him. Would the man ever let his guard down? Would he ever try to overcome the hurt that he had been dealt most of his life? Had he been Byron's son he would have never known such deplorable treatment. He would have known what it was to be loved, Sighing again, he turned his attention to what his nephew was saying, vowing that later he would try to talk to him about it.
As the morning went on, the guest started to arrive and fill the Great Hall at Greystone. They were all dressed expensively in velvets and silks, their personal servants arriving with them, most going on up to the guest wing on the castle and preparing the chambers. The larger chambers would accommodate many, as fur pellets were scattered about the floor. One would accommodate the women, the other, the men.
Kristy had stayed up in Sidra's room, along with Aileen and her ladies maid. And just as Kristy had promised, Sidra had stunning, luscious curls falling to her waist. As she styled it, Kristy wished more than once that she had some gel or hairspray. But she managed without it. She had slipped a circlet of gold around her head and forehead and had trendles of curls spilling over it and draping the side of her face, creating a very provocative and sexy look. The rest she left loose spilling freely about her. The back of the circlet had attached to it a long sheer silk veil that fell down her back, to the floor. Pearls and tiny stones where sewn into it.
The dress was a combination of modern and medieval. While it resembled the tunic and blaints of the century, it was different in cut and style in many ways. The white silk molded like a second skin to Sidra's petite, but curvy figure. The scooping neck exposing her white skin and a little peek of cleavage. A gold belt was set low about her hips, the skirt of the gown spilling in gathers from under it. It was a truely breathtaking creation! And Kristy was sure that her prediction would come true. Tilden WAS going to drop his jaw when he got a look at his bride--to--be!
The maid answered the knock at the door and Kristy was taken back to see Darien enter the room. His gaze first found Kristy, sweeping her figure. For a moment, Kristy thought that she had seen some of the old fire lurking within his eyes but just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished.
His gaze then fell to the stunning woman standing beside her. "Sidra! You look….like an angel!" Darien exclaimed, clearly in awe. "Tilden will be overwhelmed!"
Sidra blushed from his praise. "'Tis Kristy who deserves all the credit. She designed my gown and styled my hair."
He seemed to bristle at the praise to his wife but was polite, anyway. "Your work is to be commended," he complimented her as if he were addressing a stranger, not quite meeting her eyes.
A wry look crossed her features and she replied dryly, "How kind of you to say so." The 'kind' had a noticeably sarcastic edge to it.
Darien chose to ignore it. He picked up his sister's hand and kissed the back of it. Then, after a light hesitation, he folded her into his arms. "I am proud for you, my sister. Tilden is a very lucky man to have you for a wife." His voice was filled with emotion. An emotion the people of who knew him, had rarely been privy to.
"I love you, Darien, and you shall see me often. So much so that you shall wish I would return to my own keep!" she joked with him, helping to lighten the moment.
He laughed as he pulled back from her and wiped at the tear that had trickled down her rosy cheek. "Never. You are welcome here anytime." He took her hand into his and informed her, "Now, I came here to inform you that your bridegroom anxiously awaits with the priest down stairs. Are you ready?"
The excitement flashed in her gray eyes as she quickly nodded her head, "Oh yes! I'm ready."
He laughed at her eagerness and escorted her out of the chamber, followed by Kristy and Lady Aileen.
Tilden did, indeed, drop his jaw when he saw his beautiful betrothed walking toward him in the Great Hall. The ceremony would take place in the hall for the chapel would not accommodate all the guest. The priest stood near the hearth, with his bible open and ready, as Darien handed Sidra over to Tilden.
"You are beautiful, My Sidra," he whispered breathlessly in her ear when he enfolded his hand in hers.
"YOU are beautiful, my Tilden," she returned in the same breathless way that he had used.
Tears rolled down Kristy's face as the enamored couple exchanged their solemn vows before God. She not only cried because of her happiness for her two friends, but also with sadness that her own marriage could not have been so beautiful. Her husband did not look at her with the love that Tilden bestowed upon Sidra. His eyes were forever accusing, forever distrusting. A tremble ran up her spine and before she looked up she knew that her husbands eyes were upon her. She had felt them. Her eyes lifted to his and they held. The air seemed to charge between them, for they were both wishing the same things. And that was that things would be different between them.
Darian thought, if only she hadn't betrayed me.
Sidra thought, if only he would believe me.
Stalemate. Their eyes broke contact and focused back on the couple being wedded. But their minds were on each other and what in the world, were they going to do about it.
Tilden caught his bride in a rapturous kiss that made the old priest blush profusely and the celebrating began.
And for three days the feasting and merrymaking lasted. Kristy was tired beyond belief when at last, most of the guest had departed. The only guest who remained were Darian's aunt and uncle. Sidra and Tilden had long ago departed for their newly refurbish keep.
Kristy and Lady Aileen sat by the hearth talking while Darien and Lord Byron sat at one of the table drinking ale. Byron eyed Darien contemplatively and said softly, "Are you ready to tell me about it?"
Darien lifted his eyes in puzzlement. "Tell you about what, Uncle?"
Byron nodded toward the women. "What is going on with you and your lovely bride over there. And don't tell me 'nothing' because I'm too old and too wise to believe that dribble!"
Darien leaned an elbow on the table and raked a hand over his brow. He spilled the story about the whole Worthingham ordeal. His voice sounded weary and hurt as he spoke. It looked as though Darien had truly given up hope.
"Darien, I have known you for a long time. I've even considered you more like a son to me than a nephew and so please know what I am about to say is because I am concerned for you." He paused and then pushed on. "I knew Fredrick Worthingham very well. The man was a devious, evil person. He would kill his own mother if it would get him what he wanted. He was also extremely clever. Has it ever occurred to you that the man lied about Kristy?"
Darien let out a heavy breath and shut his eyes. 'It has, Uncle, but how did Worthingham find out about my plan if not for her." His voice sounded very tired.
"Are you positive that there could not be another who betrayed you. One of your men, perchance? Think Darien. For what you are throwing away is too important. To end it would be a pity if you are, indeed, mistaken about your wife's loyalty." The last was spoken harshly, like a father to a son, but Byron had to get his message through Darian's thick skull!
"Listen, don't you think I have considered others? My men are loyal to me. There is not one that I cannot trust with my life!" he insisted angrily, his voice raising a little.
Byron looked at him as if he had suddenly grown horns and a tail. "You would trust your men over that sweet, pretty wife of yours?" he asked incredulously.
"That sweet, pretty wife of mine, was meeting Worthingham behind my back when I had thought she was down at the village, conducting her business! She played me for a fool and I'll not forgive her for that." He said scathingly, banging his fist on the table.
"You, Nephew, ARE a fool. She loves you. Only an idiot would be blind to it! And from what I hear she bears your child. Take my advice, Darien, and make things right between the two of you. For if you let things stand the way they are, you could be throwing away the best thing that has ever happen in your life,"
Darien stood up, anger was evident in the way his jaw clenched. "I believe that you have said enough."
Byron stood up, too. His anger matching his nephews. "I don't think so, Darian. You are still being stubborn about this!"
"She's my wife, My affair. And none of your bloody business!" He was yelling so loud, he caught the attention of the women across the hall.
"She wants you to love her, Darian"
"I will NEVER love HER!" He emphasized each word, clearly and loudly.
"DARIAN!" his aunt said in a scolding voice, looking worried at her new niece's stricken features.
The two men turned to the women and saw Kristy put her hand over her mouth and burst into tears. She grabbed up her blue skirts and ran out of the hall, toward the stairs.
Darien swore with a growl and after giving his uncle a murderous look, stormed out of the castle.
Lady Aileen let out a sigh as she walked over to her husband. She petted his back, knowing he was still boiling inside over Darien' s stubbornness. "I suppose we have overstayed our welcome."
"Aye, that we have, dearling," he agreed, noticeably calming. "I just wish… Oh, well. It doesn't matter. The boy never would listen to reason." He shook his head.
Aileen folded her arm within her husband's. "I know. I will say goodbye to Kristy and make sure that she is all right. You will see to the luggage?"
He nodded. "Aye, we will ride as seen as possible." His wife agreed and he watched her walk out of the hall. He started to walk out to the stables to notify his men that they would be leaving.
But before he turned to leave, his eyes landed on the painting above the hearth. He looked up at the old earl, whom he had known well as a boy. "Well, Earl. What are we to do about that grandson of yours, huh? He has your stubbornness! I remember well, once you got something in that thick old head of yours, you would not be talked out of it!" He shook his head sadly. "I only hope that Darian sees the truth before it's too late. I really do." He stared at the painting a minute longer then turned and left.

Chapter 18

Darian stormed from the castle, muttering curses that would have caused his own men to blush. As he trudged along the snow-filled path through the bailey, he cursed even more. Why had the snow not been shoveled away, as he had ordered? It was his fault. That lazy, no good… Where was he?
Darian began to search around the bailey, possibly angrier than he had been for awhile and he wanted to take it out on somebody.
The Betrayer leaned against one of the stable stalls, humming to himself, while devouring a delicious red apple that he had stolen from the castle kitchens. He looked over to the shovel that he had been given this morning with the orders to clear the bailey. He snorted to himself. Clean the bailey? Did that overbearing, snobbish Earl realize just how big the bailey was? Nay, of course not. He just gave the orders and expected his lowly subjects to obey his every command. Well his royal Earl-ness could bloody well wait!
"There you are, you slothful, lazy boy. How dare you disobey my direct orders! Mayhaps you would like to feel a strap across your impudent back."
The betrayer had only to see the black leather boots standing beside him to know who the reprimand had come from and he felt his heart sink to his toes. God's teeth! He was in for it, now! The Betrayer hopped to his feet, his eyes cast downward demurely, the apple quickly discarded under the stall door.
"I…I'm sorry, milord. Please... .I will get to the task this moment. I..."
Darian let out an impatient burst of breath. "Silence. I do not want to hear your apologies, nor your promises. I do want the work done, however, and done now! Do I make myself clear?"
The Betrayer trembled beneath his lord's murderous stare, but breathed a sigh of relief at having gotten off so easily. "Yes, milord. I will get to it right away!" He picked up the shovel and started out the door, when Lord Greystone grabbed his arm.
"Tonight, you will receive four lashes for your disobedience. I will expect you to meet me here within the bailey after the sun has set." Darian commanded, leaving no room for argument.
Dread filled The Betrayer, for he knew what four lashes could do to a man's back. He swallowed and lowered his eyes, for he couldn't let his lord see the hate that had suddenly filled his eyes and his heart. "Y—yes, milord." he mumbled and ran out the door.
The Betrayer attacked the snow as if it was his archenemy and he was intent on destroying him. And the more he shoveled the more his hate grew and festered. The high and mighty Earl of Greystone had constantly thwarted his plans and made his life hell. Because of the death of Worthingham, he no longer could get the money that would see him away from this bloody castle and it's lord.
As he cleared the bailey a plan suddenly came to him. The Earl had money, and he knew exactly where he kept it, for he had seen him once, deposit the rents. There was a locked box within the lord's chamber. There's where the money was kept. There is where his chance lay. If he could get hold of a few gold coins, then he could be gone from this place forever.
A smile curved his lips. He would have to move quickly, before the sun set. Aye, he must keep his eyes open for the best time to sneak up to his chamber.
Feeling much better he attacked the snow with a new vengeance. Now his motivation was not hate, but greed and revenge. Mayhaps he would not only take a few coins, he would take the whole bloody box. Then what would the high and might Earl do then? He laughed aloud. Yes, what would he do then....
After finally assuring Aileen that she would be all right, her new aunt had taken her leave. But Kristy's assurance to her had been false. The moment she knew that Lord and Lady Thackery had left the grounds, she had thrown herself upon her mattress and dissolved into tears once again.
After what seemed like hours, a gentle hand touched her shoulder and as always Kristy knew exactly whose hand it was. She picked up her head and sat up. Pulling the hair away from her face and wiping the tears from her eyes, she tried to calm herself as she whispered five little words.
"1 want to go...home." She raised his red rimmed, devastated eyes to the angel who looked down on her with such compassion. Then she pleaded with him. "Please, Jubal. Let me go home."
The angel sat down on the bed beside her and gathered her into his heavenly arms. She cried into his beautiful white robe until she could cry no more then he just held her, gently stroking her back in a way that a father would comfort a child. Her breath became normal, the hiccups ceased and she finally drew back from him.
"Thank you, Jubal," she told him sincerely. She wasn't going to ask him again about going home. She felt his answer would be no.
Then he surprised her. "You may go home," he stated simply.
Kristy mouth stood agape and her eyes burned with disbelief. "I can really go back?"
"Yes. But let me finish what I have to say." He stood up and looked down at her. "Both you and Christiana will trade back places for two weeks. And in that two weeks you will both make certain of your decisions, whether to stay or go back. At the end of the two weeks, I will return and you will give me your answer."
A determined look came over her features. "I can give you my answer now, Jubal! I...
Jubal held up his hand. "No! Give yourself that time, Kristy. In that time, you can weight your pro's and con's. In that time you will see what is important and what is not. In that time, your answer will come, Kristy. It will come from your heart."
Kristy couldn't argue with his wisdom, so she nodded her head. She would give it two weeks, but she really didn't think that she would change her mind. She had a child to think of now.
She looked up quickly at Jubal. "My baby! Will it be alright?"
He smiled reassuringly at her and patted her hand. "The baby will be fine."
Breathing a sigh of relief she asked. "When do I leave?"
"Tonight. Just as you arrived, you will depart in your sleep. In the morning, when you awaken, you shall be back in your time."
She thought for a minute and stood up beside the angel. "I will tell Darian about me tonight. But I must have something to make him believe me. Jubal is there anyway for you to bring back something from my time? Something that would convince him that I am telling him the truth?"
Jubal placed a finger on his chin in a thoughtful stance. "Hmmm. Was there something you already had in mind?"
She nodded. "Yes. One of my magazine covers. If that won't convince him, nothing will."
Jubal, after a moment's pause, nodded. "It will be done, then." He stepped back from her and explained. "It will take me no more than a few seconds, so stay where you are." In a blink, he was gone and before she could react or move, he was suddenly back with the magazine in hand.
"Man! That was fast!" she said admiration.
He smiled and raised his eyebrows. "We aim to please, milady." Angels, she realized had senses of humor, too. She smiled and took the issue of Vogue from his hands.
"Thank you, Jubal--for everything."
He reached out and squeezed her hand. "I will see you in two weeks." And then he was gone.
Darian galloped through the snowy Greystone lands at top speeds. It had always helped in the past to rid him of his frustrations, but today it wasn't working. He couldn't get his wife's stricken face from his mind.
Sensing his ride tiring, he slowed him down to a trot. As he let out a long pent up breath, the cold air froze it making it look as though he was blowing smoke. His mind was troubled because, for the first time since his wife had left for Worthingham, he began to have serious doubts of her betrayal. Mayhaps it had been his uncle's words or maybe it had been Christiana's face at hearing his cruel declaration. Which ever, he only knew he could deny his feelings for her no longer.
He loved her. Not just physically, though just to look at her beautiful body could make him ache. No, his love for her ran deep. Incredibly deep. He loved to hold her, He love to be her protector. He loved to hear her laugh with him. He loved to hear her talk to him. She was so different from any other woman in his life, even Isabella. His First wife had been shallow, she always wanted something from him. But not so with his Kristy. She just seemed to want him--and he had denied her of him for so long.
And it something that was difficult for him to admit even to himself but he NEEDED her. He needed her love, he need her strength. He needed her joy and happiness. He needed her, for through her, he could finally heal. Heal from the pain and hurt that he'd known all his life.
What worried him, now, was that he knew that she had given up. Everyday that she had told him that she loved him, she had pulled him in a little more and a little more, but in his stubbornness he hadn't let her see it. No, the fool that he was, he kept pushing her away and treating her with contempt.
Then it had stopped. She even quit looking at him and had moved from their chamber. He'd done nothing to stop her. He felt the pain of his love for her rip through his heart, and he closed his eyes tightly. My God, was it too late? Had she truly given up or could he reach her? Would she believe him if he told her that he was sorry? That he loved her passed all understanding, passed all comprehension? That if she were to leave him, he would die inside?
An urgency rose up within him and he spurred his horse forward, toward the castle. He would make things right, today. And he vowed to continue making it up to her for the rest of his life.
When he arrived back at the castle, he noticed a commotion going on within the Hall. Vachel had someone by the arm pulling him out into the bailey. Darian quickly dismounted and charged through the door.
"What is amiss?" he demanded.
Vachel pulled the youth forward until he was standing beside him. "He was caught going through your chambers, Milord."
Darian' s nostrils flared with rage. He hated being crossed and especially by his own squire. "Percy! By God! What do you have to say for yourself?"
Percy, past thinking rationally because of his intense hatred, sneered at Darian. "I was going to take your bloody money, Lord High and Mighty. You rich lords are all alike. Just like my father. You think that you can rule everyone and everybody, but you will not rule me! You think that you can hurt and kill people whenever the feeling moves you. I tell you that I am sick of it. Do you hear, SICK!" The boy was screaming by the end of his speech.
Darian felt the anger run out of him as he look at the crazed look within the boys eyes. The boy was not well, that much was obvious.
Vachel spoke up, "Do you want him hanged, milord?" The penalty for betrayal, by one of the lord's men, was always death.
Vachel was surprised with Darian's reply. "Nay. I will send him back to his father.
"No!" Percy screamed. "Please, kill me but do not send my back to him!"
Darian looked past the boy and nodded grimly to Vachel. "Make preparation to send him back."
The whole of the castle came into the hall as they dragged the screaming squire out into the cold air. Darian ran a hand wearily through his hair and started up the stairs, but was stopped when one of the castle maids stepped in his path.
He looked impatient at the wench who seemed to tremble at being so near to him. "Yes?" he fairly hollered at her. He didn't have time to contend with a shy trembling serf when he needed talk to his wife.
Gladys nearly changed her mind about saying anything to the earl when he yelled at her. Goodness! He was a frightening man. But then she found strength when she knew that what she had to say would help her beloved Lady Kristy. "Milord might I have a word with you?" she said with more bravado that she actually felt.
"Yes, yes, what is it?"
"I know who betrayed you to Lord Worthingham, milord."
The impatient look fled his features, He grabbed her by the arm and demand. "Who is it? And how do you know?"
Gladys started stuttering again. She wished that he wouldn't hold her arm so tight. "I came from Worthingham the night that your men came for Lady Kristy. She had asked me to look and see if I saw anything suspicious, so I did. My lord, I have seen your squire at Worthingham castle, a couple of times. There was money exchanged between, and then I heard your squire telling Worthingham information about Greystone. I never knew who the boy was before so I have kept silent. But I now know who he is. My lord, it was the young page."
Darian let out a breath and let go of the girl's arm. "Thank you. You do not know…I thank you." He practically pushed the small woman out of the way, as he took the stairs two at a time to get to his wife's chamber.
She didn't betray him! By God, he had indeed been a 'fool! He had come to the same conclusion before the girl had told him anything, but it was, indeed, good to hear that he was truly right about his wife.
He started to burst through her door, for his impatience to tell her of his love was fairly begging to burst from his lips and heart. But common sense told him he had better knock. So he did.
He heard her faint voice from the other side of the thick wood, bidding him to enter. With a smile he opened the door and entered the chamber.
He rushed toward her. "Christiana, I have something to say to you….he began, but she stopped him by holding out her hand.
"Wait. I know what you are about to say, Darian, but you can save it. I heard," she told him dully, the fire and life seemed to be drained from her eyes.
His eyes showed his puzzlement. "Heard?"
She turned from him and walked over to ************************************************************ **** "I was at the top of the stairs when Gladys told you."
He came up behind her and started to put his arms around her, but she spun around and the look in her eyes stopped him cold. "Kristy, what the wench said mattered not to me. I had already…"
"Already what, Darian? Come to that same conclusion? How convenient for you! Why is it that same conclusion didn't come yesterday or the day before, then maybe I could believe you!" She yelled at him.
He stood facing her completely taken back at her coldness. "Kristy, you must listen to me...."
She brushed passed him and bent to pick up something from the bed. Her voice was a deadly calm. It was like it was someone else talking instead of his wife. "No, Darian, you must listen to me. I think you had better sit down, for what I'm going to tell you will come as a shock."
He looked at her stiff back, then walked around her and sat before her on the bed. Looking up at her, he asked softly, "What is it, Christiana. What could you possible say that could shock me?"
She smiled bitterly and shook her head. "Well, for starters, I am not Christiana." She saw that he was looking at her as though she had suddenly lost her mind. And decided on a different approach.
"Remember when you first saw me in the forest? And I told you that I was from another time and place, that the real Christiana and I had been switched?" She saw him slowly shaking his head, not really understanding her. "I was telling the truth." With that statement she unrolled the magazine that she had had tucked under her arm and tossed it on his lap.
What could only be described as pure shock was written on every part of his body. He reached down and smoothed back the cover page, his eyes widening when he saw her likeness draped in a skin tight sequined dress that exposed an indecent amount of cleavage. Her lips were painted red. Heavy eyeliner graced her top eyelids and her hair fell in a S-curve down the side of her face. The whole effect gave her a 'forties' glamour look, but Darian wouldn't realize that.
He looked back up to her, it took him a while to regain his voice. "What is this?" he whispered breathlessly as though he really and truly did not want to know the truth-- afraid of what that truth would be.
"It's a book, of sorts, called a magazine. If you will look at the date in the corner, you will see that it is dated, February 1, 1998. Darian, I am from the future." She held her breath, unsure of what his reaction to all this would be.
His reaction was to deny it all. "No! I cannot accept that. That is impossible." He threw the magazine on the bed beside him as if it were poison. He stood and grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Where did you have that made? Who can do such things with paper?" he demanded roughly, desperately. He could not accept this, he could not accept any of this!
"Stop it, Darian!" She cried struggling against his hold and finally breaking free. With a force that even she didn't think she possessed she pushed him back down on the bed and took his face into her hands. "Listen, Darian. My God, you must listen!" Tears began to roll down her face, tears that she could not control.
His breath was coming fast and ragged, his eyes for once were not hard, but were expressing his anguish. He covered her hands with his own. "No, Kristy, no…" He reached out with one hand and brought her face to his. His lips met her roughly and demanding. He did not know whether he was trying to convince her or himself that her words were lies, but whichever, he didn't want to face them.
Kristy did not hesitate to respond to his kiss. She loved him. Yet, tonight she would have to leave him. Forever.
So she let him pull her into his lap. She let him enfold her into his strong arms. She let him hold her to him, even though he held so tight that she felt like she would break.
"No, Kristy." she heard him whisper against her ear.
She knew that she must make him see the truth. She had to tell him everything. It would be the hardest thing she ever had to do.
She pulled away from him and off his lap. She sat on the side of him, not meeting his eyes, but staring ahead, blindly at the window as she let herself go back to that fateful night three months ago, when she had made that wish.
Darian remained quiet, staring intently at her as she recounted the story from start to finish, though leaving out the part of Jubal's last visit. But she knew she'd have to tell him that part, too.
When she was finished, he was silent for a few moments, then gently hooked a finger under her chin and turned her face to his. He searched her face and eyes and didn't like the answer he found there. "You are telling me the truth,"
"Yes.
He absently caressed her cheek as he continued to study her. "It matters not," he said firmly.
But she argued, "But I am not who you thought I was."
"You are exactly who I think you are. You are my wife. A wife that I have treated abominably, and for which I am deeply sorry. I did not know the real Christiana. It was you who I am married. It is you who sets my blood on fire with wanting when I look at you." As if to demonstrate, his lips locked on her own in a passionate kiss that left both of them breathless. "I care nothing for the real Christiana, I do care for you."
At his words she pushed away from him. "No!" she cried as she stood up and away from him. She could deal with his wanting her, she couldn't deal with his caring for her. Not now.
He understood. For weeks he had been treating her as if she didn't exist-- treating her horribly when he did speak to her. Of course, she wouldn't believe that he cared. He reached over and retrieved the discarded book that she had called a 'magazine' and opened it's pages.
His pulse raced at he looked at the glossy pages bearing pictures of objects that were completely foreign to him. It was like looking at something you knew you were not suppose to see, knowing about something that you had no business knowing. He couldn't look anymore so he slowly closed it and looked at the image of his wife dressed in a way he could have never imagined.
"When you said that the earth was round, you were not jesting, were you." It was a statement rather than a question. As though he was trying to make himself understand.
"No, I wasn't jesting." She leaned against the colorful tapestry on the wall.
"You are not from England?"
"No. I am from a country that won't be discovered until the year 1492. It's called the United States of America. In the eight hundred years that will pass from this time 'til 1998, civilization will change drastically. Did you know that a men will actually fly to the moon and walk on it?" She laughed to herself. "We travel in horseless carriages, fly through the air in big winged contraptions called airplanes and our houses are lit with candles that don't need a flame."
She could tell that he was trying to comprehend in his sharp mind everything that she was telling him and when he opened his mouth to ask about 'horseless carriages' she stopped him. "It's probably better that you do not know," she told him. She didn't think it was wise giving someone a glimpse into the future. Life in this century was hard enough as it was. He should worry about something that he was likely to never see.
"You said that Christiana had wished to be someone else. Was it because of her betrothal to me that she made this wish?" Darian asked.
She gave him an apologetic smile and nodded her head. "Yeah. According to the servants, she was terrified of you. I can't imagine why," she said the last sentence with a dry tone that him wince.
His next question was spoken softly, she could her his concern. "Why did you wish to leave? You told me that you made the wish, but you never told me why."
She looked over to him and then dropped her eyes to the floor. "I was hurt because the man that I had been dating, became engaged to someone else. I was tired of being alone. I wanted a husband and a house to take care of. I was tired of my career, and I only wanted to be a regular housewife." She couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it and when she looked at him, he was smiling, too. "I guess I got more that I bargained for. Never did I imagine myself becoming a countess, of all things! Some housewife, huh?"
He laughed this time, "You have taken care of my 'house' excellently!" he praised with admiration ringing through his deep voice.
"Well, I will admit I did not do too badly," she agreed, quite smugly.
He looked pointedly at the cover of the magazine and asked, "This was your work?"
She nodded. "They call these images, pictures. A small machine captures your image within it and some how or other it creates a full color exact image of the subject that you are taking the picture of. I did not make the pictures. All I did was pose for them." she tried to explain as simply as she could.
His brows rose skeptically, however. "That was your job? Posing for….pictures? And they paid you money for this?"
"Yes," she retorted defensively. "Matter of fact, I made a LOT of money. My face could be noticed all around the world...in 1990's that is. I am probably as famous a model as you are a warrior!"
He burst out laughing. "I believe you, my lady. 'Tis not hard to imagine that your beauty could be worth a fortune." As he said the last he came before her, where she leaned against the wall and place a hand on either side of her head, blocking her in. "Because you, my Kristy from the future, are worth everything to me."
Oh, great! she cried inwardly. Did he have to say that? "Dan..." Her protest was smothered by his assault on her mouth. She place her hands on his hard chest to push him back, but when she felt his glowing warmth through the thin linen tunic he wore, her push became a caress. His mouth slide provocatively against hers, drawing her in, making her senseless with wanting him. Her arms slide around his neck and he jerked her to him so her body was pressed, hard to his. His hand stroked her back and moved greedily down her back, pulling her even closer.
"You are mine, Kristy. Mine." he insisted roughly against her lips as he started backing them up, towards the bed. The fog of passion began to clear when she heard his words and realized his intention. And as much as she wanted to make love to him, she knew she must tell him the rest.
She must tell him that … she was leaving him.

Chapter 19

"Darian, wait!" she cried weakly and tried to pull back from him. She must think! She MUST think!
"No, my Kristy. There has been too much waiting. Now we love. Show me your love me, Kristy," he groaned as his lips touched hers.
The moment their mouths melted together, Kristy's protest died a quick death. And with a groan of surrender, gave herself fully over to him, holding back nothing, knowing that this was to be their last time together. Knowing that she'd never feel his body next to her own. She kissed him with an unbridled urgency, a frenzied impatience to make love to him and make this night last as long as she could.
Darian was, at first, taken back by the fervor by which she kissed him. Then, thinking he knew her reasons, gave a throaty chuckle. "I am just as impatient to bed you, my lady, for it has been a long time. But I will not have it over and done with before I have the chance to touch you like I want to, to taste you as I have hungered to do, and to love you like you deserve to be loved." He bent to take her lips in a slow sensual kiss then drew back and smiled, touching her lovingly on her cheek with a gentle finger. "We have all night, my Kristy. Nay, we have a lifetime."
He smothered the protest that were springing to her lips, and pulled them both down upon the bed. He tightened his hold on her, rolled her over till she lay beneath him. As his mouth wrecked havoc to her senses, she then lost any and every coherent thought that she had had.
As usual he intoxicated her, filling her with a craving to have more. But, this time, there was a difference. It wasn't that he was doing anything different, it was more like a feeling coming from him…something deep, something significant.
It felt amazingly like…love
Now, undoubtedly, she was hallucinating. It was true that he had said that he cared for her and that she was important to him, but he had never said those three little words that all woman must hear.
He had never said, "I love you."
He may not love her, but tonight—— right now, she could believe that he did, because despite her resolution to leave him, she still loved him. Thoroughly, passionately, completely.
Darian drew in a deep breath as her pulled the ties loose at her neck and pushed back the soft fabric. For truth, she was beautiful …and dear God, how he loved her.
"You once said that you loved me, Kristy. Do you still?" He asked in a hoarse, low voice as he raised himself eye level to her.
She looked up into his eyes. The same eyes that had looked so hard, so hurt, so pained--now were filled with wariness. He, the Earl of Greystone, warrior of the king, was worried that her feelings had changed. He was regretful, she knew that he had mistrusted her, that he had rejected her. He was wanting to start anew and only she knew that it was, now, too late. Later, he would know and probably hate her for her decision, but now she would tell him the truth, the truth that she knew he wanted to hear. "Darian, I have loved you from the beginning," she began, then reached up and put a soft kiss upon his mouth. "And I still love you."
He felt himself relieved at her answer and it made him realize just how afraid he was of losing her. But he would worry no more. She loved him. And he would make certain that he never gave her a cause to change those feelings!
"My Kristy..." he murmured into her mouth as his arms went about her, embracing her.
Later, Kristy held tightly to him, wishing that this feeling didn't have to end. She asked herself over and over, why it couldn't always be this way between them. Why had he ever mistrusted her? Why couldn't he have believed in her from the start? It was those nagging questions that reminded her of her decision. Would he always be wary of her? Would another lie or another doubt cause him to reject her again? He had put her through an emotional hell these last two months and never did she want to go through that again. And never did she want to subject her child to it either.
Yes, she was still going home…to stay.
As she pulled back away from his arms he started to protest but she smiled at him. A smile that was laced with a sadness that he failed to notice, "I have something for you," she told him and he let her rise.
Pulling on her wrapper, she padded over to the big trunk propped open against the wall and pulled from it a leather pouch. When she returned to the bed he was sitting up, the covers about his waist, and a curious look in his eyes.
"Everything has been so hectic that I forget about your Christmas present I had made for you," she explained as she handed over the pouch.
A bemused expression was written on his handsome face. "You had this made for me?" he asked in an unbelieving tone.
"Yes."
In his entire twenty-eight years, he could not ever remember anyone giving him a gift. He looked up at his wife and thought to himself how lucky he was to have her. "Thank you," he told her softly.
She couldn't help but giggle. "There is something inside the leather you know. Open it!"
He returned her smile and carefully opened the pouch, then drew out the small silver frame. He drew a loud breath when he looked down at the beautifully done miniature painting of his wife. He caressed the edge of the frame gently as if he held precious jewels in his palm. "It is beautiful," he told her as he look back up. He then stood and laid a hand on the curve of her jaw. "Just as you are beautiful, my lady. I thank you, again." He pulled her to him and put a sweet kiss on her closed lips.
Fearing she would once again be lost under his spell she turned away from him. He caught her by the arm but she pulled it back shaking her head. "Please don't, Darian. There is something that I have to tell you…and…it is going to be difficult to say.
His brow wrinkling with puzzlement, he told her, "Kristy, there is naught that you could tell me tonight that would disturb me," But he grew even more puzzled when she let out a sob and walked over to the ************************************************************ **** He didn't go after her this time, instead, he waited for her to speak, a unaccountable feeling of dread started to grow deep within him,
"I gave you the painting for a purpose," she began in a faint voice. She turned her tear streak face towards him. "It is to remember me by, Darian."
His face went white, "What the devil do you mean by 'remember?'" he demanded in a sharp tone.
She swallowed hard, fearful of how he would react. "I am leaving, Darian."
"NO!" he bellowed. In a blink he was before her, grabbing her arms in a rough grip. "Do you honestly think that I would allow you to leave?" he asked incredulously.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. "You can't stop it, Darian. Tonight, I change places with the real Christiana."
She found herself hauled into his expansive chest and trapped within his arms. "No! You are my wife, Kristy. You belong to me. ME! You do not belong to that world any longer!" His voice was insistent and just a little desperate.
Tears still flowed from her eyes and she beseeched him to listen. "Darian, please. You have to let me explain everything. Please!" she pleaded, as she hit his chest with her fist. Finally he release her. Turning he ran a hand through his hair and walked back towards the bed.
"Tell me," was all he said in his gruff voice. She had never seen him so upset.
She took a deep breath and began, "Jubal, has told me that Christiana and I will trade places for two weeks. At the end of those two weeks, we must make the decision to stay or go back."
At her words he whirled around to face her, a hopeful gleam in his eye. But she stopped him. "We must both be in agreement. If Christiana decides to stay here in the twelfth century, then I must stay in the twentieth and of course, vice versa."
She was surprise when he let out a joyful hoot of laughter. "Then why, wife, are you so worried? By God, two weeks living with me, and Christiana will be begging to go back. That I can assure you," he told her confidently.
Her face did not however reflect his relief or his joy. Instead her countenance remained unsmiling, determined. "I have decided to stay in my own century, Darian," she told him quietly.
He looked over to her, not moving, his features for the first time that night, unreadable. "Can you not forgive me, my lady?" he asked softly.
She looked away from his penetrating gaze. "I forgave you, Darian. But I cannot live in fear that it would happen again. You do not trust me. You do not trust any woman. How can you ask me to live like that?"
"It is true that I deserve your doubts. But I have realized the fool that I have been. I know that you would never betray me. It took me a long time to realize that, but 'tis truth, Kristy, you must believe that I do trust you.
She sank down in the chair that stood close to the bed and rubbed her forehead wearily. "I want to believe you Darian. Please understand that I really do." She looked at him and went on, "There are other reasons why I must leave you."
"Such as?"
"The baby. I am frightened of giving birth in this century. My sister had such problems with her delivery. If it had not been for modern doctors and medicine, Darian, she would have died. I don't want that to happen to me. I am frightened," she informed him in a teary whisper.
He knelt down beside her and took her hand into his, "You are strong, my Kristy. It is true the risk is there, but I will do everything I can to ease your discomfort. You will be fine, my love, I know it!"
"You cannot know that!" she practically yelled back at him. "I am tired and I am scared, I just want to go back to my own time. I want to go home!" She tried to pull her hands from his but he held on.
"This is your home and this is MY child. You cannot take my child away from me, Kristy." He had to make her understand, Sweet Mary, but she couldn't do this to him.
"He would be better off in the twentieth century. He can have a better life, there," she argued not really sure if what she spoke was the truth.
"Would he be better off without his father? This child is my heir. If he is a boy, he would be the next Earl of Greystone. Can you deny him that right?"
She jumped up from the chair and away from him, "I don't know. I just don't know…" she cried while rubbing her hands over her face. She knew that he had a good point. Could she deny her son his rightful place? Could she take him away from his father?
Darian clenched his jaw as his anger mounted. "What of this Christiana? Would you have me take her to wife? Would you have me share her bed? Because that would be exactly what would happen. She would be in reality, my wife, therefore she would have to bear me a child." He voice was harsh but he didn't taunt her to be cruel. It was the only way he could think of to get through to her.
She turned to face him and could feel herself grow pale. The thought of him, sleeping with someone else made her ill. But instead of crying like she wanted to, she fixed her features with a determined look. "Yes, I suppose she would be your wife."
Something within him snapped. He reached out and yanked her to him, his fingers biting painfully into her arm. "You will come back to me, my lady. By God, you will!" He ruthlessly ground his mouth to hers, not caring whether he hurt her, only insane with the thought of her leaving him. He heard her cry out against his mouth, her lips parting slightly, giving him the chance to invade her softness savagely with his probing tongue. She pushed against him, her fist pounding his chest.
"NO! Darian, Please…" she forced out against his assaulting mouth.
Something in her tone caused him to pause, for he broke off the offending kiss and clutched her tightly to him, her head beneath his chin. "You will come back…" he repeated in a anguished whisper.
Hearing his pain, she could not hold back the tears that welled up in her eyes. For more than a few minutes she wept against his chest as he unwaveringly stroked her back in a comforting gesture. If she had looked up she would have seen the tears in his own yes, and it took everything within him to keep them from falling. The lump in his throat felt as though it would choke him if he did not release it, but he managed to keep himself in check.
He let her go when, at last, she had calmed down and stepped out of his embrace. She walked back to the window and this time opened the shutter to let the cool air envelop her. The air was filled with light dots of snowflakes blowing to and fro on their decent to the cold ground. Several hit her lightly on the face. "It's snowing again," she commented offhandedly as much to herself than to Darian.
His face mirrored the troubled feelings that were coursing through him as he looked over at her. What the devil did the fact that it was snowing have to do with anything? And why was she getting away from the subject at hand? And why the bloody devil did she walk away from him when he told her to come back to him?
His face paled. It could only mean one thing. She still was intent on her earlier decision. She wasn't coming back to him.
His voice was intentionally harsh when he spoke. "Never would I have believed you to run away from anything, Kristy! From the first time that you laid eyes on me, you have stood up to me! Now…Now you back down? Now you decide to run? God, I had thought you possessed greater spirit that this!"
She whirled around to face him, her eyes burning brightly with outrage. "YOU have nearly crushed what spirit that I possess, Earl Greystone! When I came to this century, I was still hurting because of what a man had done to me. I thought I loved him. But did you know the moment that I laid eyes on you that all but forgot that he existed? You worked your way in my heart from the start. Why do you think I gave myself to you that first night so willingly? It wasn't because you were my husband. No, it was because, that despite you being a stranger to me, I felt that in my heart, I knew you. I wanted to take that hurt away from you. I WANTED to love you, Darian!" She paused to allow her words to sink in before continuing. Her anger dissipated and cooled, a hardness set within her. "But you…you took that love and that trust that I gave you and you threw it right back in my face. Everyone in the castle and village believed me innocent after awhile, but not you. You just couldn't believe that your wife could be innocent."
She turned back to the window in a dismissive gesture and finished in a drained emotional tone, "Now you know the truth, but it's too late, Darian. If I lack spirit, you so desire, then the fault for that falls on you, I believe." As she looked out into the night air she braced herself for another burst of anger from him. But she was to be disappointed.
Darian's heart seemed to tighten within his chest at her words. There could be no arguing with them, for they spoke the damning truth…he was at fault. This whole thing was his fault. Because of his rash, false judgement, he had thrown away the best thing that ever happened to him.
He deserved it. He deserved to be left alone. It was his fault that his child would never know his father. He deserved to be straddled with her look alike and be reminded for the rest of his life, every time he looked at her, of what he had thrown away. He bloody well deserved it all.
Kristy nearly jumped when she felt his arms come around her and pull her back against his chest.
"If there was something I could do to beg your forgiveness, I would do it. But, alas, there is nothing that could make up for what I have done. But please know that I did come to believe in you, even before the girl had told me of the truth. I had finally admitted your innocence in my heart."
Kristy didn't say anything to that, for she didn't know whether to believe him or not. She wanted, with everything in her, to believe but was afraid to. She also knew that she shouldn't let him hold her this way, but couldn't, for the life of her, walk out of his arms. She would miss this man, her husband. Deep in her heart she knew that she would never love like this again. Never could anyone replace him in her heart.
"Kristy," Darian murmured, while turning her around to face him. "Please, grant me one thing." His troubled gray eyes were pleading with her, as was his voice.
"If I can, Darian."
"In the two weeks that you are given by your angel, I will only ask that you not make your decision until the very end of that time. In that time I hope that you think about us. Know that if you return to me that I will trust you and care for you with all my being and all my life. Think about our child and know that the decision you make will be the best for him."
She held his gaze and saw the emotion that darkened his eyes and found that she could not deny him his request. "She nodded her head. "I will grant you that. I will wait until the two weeks are up before I make my decision."
"Thank you," he whispered, then kissed her softly.
She looked up at him when their lips parted and asked, "Darian, will you stay with me tonight? At least until I go to sleep?"
He nodded and smoothed her cheek. "Aye. Aye, I will stay with you. A thousand knights could not take me from you this night."
When they were once again beneath the covers of the bed, he pulled her back into him and there bodies molding together, his arms clutch her middle as tightly as he could without causing pain. It was as if he were holding on to her for dear life. And to Darian that was exactly what he felt. His life would be worth naught without her.
As he held her, he suddenly realized he had never told her what had been most on his mind. He couldn't believe that he had forgotten the most important words of all. He hadn't told her that he loved her.
"My Kristy," he whispered against her temple, "I believe that I neglected to tell you the full extent of my feelings for you. My beautiful lady, know this, that I love you with every fiber of my being. You are my life, my heart, my breath and I do love you."
But the very words that Kristy had wanted to hear from the start, now went unheard. She had already fallen asleep.
He realized this and gave a heavy sigh. His arms tightened around her and he willed himself not to fall asleep, thinking that maybe if he stayed awake, he could stop her from leaving.
But it was not to be. Try as he might, he could not hold his eyes open and within minutes he fell into a deep sleep, still holding on to his wife with all his might, will and soul.

Chapter 20

The darkness slowly evaporated over the city, as the bright sheen from the morning sun made its appearance over the horizon.
Tiny shimmering sparkles winked like diamonds as its rays bounced off the lingering snow that had fallen just the day before. An occasional sound of a siren broke through the rare silence of the City that Never Sleeps, as its residents began to flock to the recently swept streets.
It was Monday. Just a regular day of the week, to most of New York City. A day to reflect on the weekend you just enjoyed. . A day to curse for coming much too soon. . A day that makes people move a little slower as they contemplate the long week ahead, before they can once again reach Friday evening. Just a regular Monday.
To most people, that is..
Inside the plush Greenwich Village apartment, the darkness still prevailed. The thick black vertical blinds were pulled shut against the invading light, the only brightness coming from the faint green light from the digital radio clock beside the bed. For a moment, all was peaceful. All was quiet.
But then that same radio clock suddenly flashed the eight o'clock hour, triggering the alarm. With a loud blast, the music of the Backstreet Boys filled the large bedroom.
Kristy came awake at once. Her heart pounded against her chest, her eyes tried to adjust to the surrounding darkness. For a moment she had no idea where she was or how she got there. Out of unconscious habit her hand reached to hit the snooze button, stopping the music, while the other hand raked back the thick veil of hair from her face.
Still out of sorts, she looked over to the side of her bed and then turned on the lamp beside the clock. She immediately closed her eyes against the brightness, then slowly opened them again.
A tightness gripped her chest as she looked about the room. The same room that she herself had decorated. The same room that she now felt like a stranger in
She was back in her own century.
Her hand automatically fell to her belly and she smiled when she felt the slight thickness. Her child was still there. But that smile fell away as she realized that yes, she was here and her baby was here, but…Darian was not.
Closing her eyes tightly, Kristy fought the despair that had abruptly come over her. Already she missed him. Already she mourned his loss.
Pulling herself from the bed, she started walking about the apartment, reacquainting herself with her things. How modern everything seemed. The floors were carpeted, not covered with rushes; her walls were papered, not cold and damp; the air was warm, her lights did not drip with wax, the furniture was comfortable and the air smelt pleasant.
But all this brought her no relief. Some would think she had totally gone mad, but she was missing her medieval castle with all its backward, crude ways. It had crept into her heart without her realizing it. She had thought that she would be overjoyed at being among civilization once again. She sighed and started towards the bathroom. Maybe she was just experiencing culture shock, and after a little while, the feeling of loss would dissipate. Maybe.
After a long ********************************************************ing shower, however, she began to readjust some of her thinking! The apple scented shampoo felt like Heaven as she lathered it into her hair. If this gave her a thrill, she couldn't imagine what brushing her teeth would do to her!
About an hour later, she was dressed in a pair of mint green twill trousers with a slim fitting sweater of the same color on top. She couldn't remember buying this particular outfit and surmised that Christiana had done a little bit of shopping while she was here. She hoped that she still had money left over in her bank account!
She was just about to reach for the phone to call her sister, when the doorbell stopped her hand. She walked over and unlocked the three locks that lined the edge of her door, then opened it.
Her sister Danielle swept past her and into the apartment before she had a chance to say anything. "Chris, I came as soon as I got your message. I was out of town last night and didn't check my answering machine until this morning. Now what is going… Chris…are you alright? You look a little pale."
Kristy, who had merely been too shocked at seeing her sister again, had not moved from the door, only staring at her as if she were seeing a ghost. She could only whisper one word…
"Danny…"
This time it was Danielle who paled. "Oh, my goodness! Kristy…it's you? Is it really you?" she cried and propelled herself into Kristy's arms, squeezing her tight. "I thought I'd never see you again!"
They pulled back to look at each other and started laughing when they saw tears running down both their faces. Kristy clutched Danny's hands and looked her over. Her sister was just as tall as she, but had auburn hair and green eyes. Their features were very similar as well as their build. "I see you've finally got your figure back!" she commented referring to the weight she had gained after having her baby.
"Did you doubt that I wouldn't?" she asked in mock indignation, a red eyebrow raised. "And you, Sis, look very good, too. Especially for a woman who has just traveled eight hundred years! You have to tell me everything!" she finished in an excited tone as she pulled her towards the sofa.
"Oh! I forgot to shut the door," Kristy remembered and started to turn around to do so when she caught the pained look on her sister's face.
"Uh-oh…" Danny murmured as she looked over Kristy's shoulder towards the door.
Kristy furrowed her brows in puzzlement and turned to see what had Danny so full of dread. Her eyes fell on a man coming through her door. This time, she didn't just pale, she turned deathly white. And for the first time in her whole life…
She fainted.
"Kristy!" Danielle shrieked as she dropped to her knees beside the sofa, where the gentleman had laid her sister, after a quick catch.
That same man wore a concerned look upon his handsome face as he sat on the side of her. He gently caressed her check as he murmured her name lovingly.
He then looked at Danielle. "Why ever would she faint like that? Has she been ill?" Alexander Maxwell, the Duke of Amberton, asked in his husky British accent, his eyes full of worry and concern.
Danielle bit her bottom lip as she tried to think of a way to tell him the news. "Alex, I don't know quite how this, but…."
Kristy began to stir causing Danielle to stop talking. They both watched as Kristy opened her eyes.
He was still here! Kristy thought as she stared up at the man who looked so much like her husband. As she studied him she began to notice little differences, but the look that he was giving her was so much like Darien it took her breath away. It was a look of pure love.
Who was this man?
"Darling, are you alright? You gave me quite a scare, just know!" the man commented as he stroked her face with his strong hands.
Kristy looked over to her sister in confusion, but Danielle just gave her a helpless look. She looked back at the man and asked, "Do I know you?"
The man frowned. "I beg your pardon?"
"Uh…Alex, that's what I was trying to tell you," Danielle finally spoke up with a shaky laugh.
But before she could explain, Alex held up his hand, silencing her. He studied Kristy's face with a careful thoroughness, then slowly got up and backed away from her. Squaring his shoulders, he looked down at her. "You're not Christiana, are you."
Kristy wanted to weep at the sadness that had crept into his voice. "No, I'm not," she told him as gently as she could.
"This is Kristy, Alex…the real one," Danielle explained.
"Kristy," he greeted faintly, as he struggled to compose himself as the impact of the truth settled into him. "Christiana went back, didn't she." It wasn't a question.
Danielle answered anyway. "I'm sorry, Alex."
Nodding he sank down in the chair. "She told me that she might go back, but I'm not sure that I believed that she would go."
"Kristy, Alex has been dating Christiana for quite sometime," she explained, then shook her head in exasperation. "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce you to him."
She motioned towards Alex. "Kristy, this is Alexander Maxwell, the Duke of Amberton."
Kristy sat up, upon hearing his name. "Maxwell? Are you a descendant of Darian Maxwell, Earl of Greystone?"
He nodded. "Actually I'm also the Earl of Greystone, but when one of the ancestors was awarded a dukedom, it became a lessor title. Christiana told me about Darian, so I've been researching him. I recently found a portrait of him and noticed that I bare a striking resemblance to him." He smiled sadly. "Which explains why you fainted when you saw me."
Kristy studied him for a moment. "You are in love with Christiana," she guessed correctly.
"With all my heart. I had done all I could to talk her into becoming my wife, but she stubbornly refused me, every time," he explained with a grimace.
Kristy looked at him with understanding. "Sometimes, the people that we love have hard time accepting it."
The smile he gave her, this time, did reach his eyes, for he had a feeling that he had just met a kindred spirit. "You seem to speak from experience."
"More than you know!"
Alex looked at her for a moment, then asked. "Kristy, is this the end of it? Will I ever see Christiana again?"
Kristy placed a weary hand over her eyes, then sat up. "We have two weeks to each make that decision. At the end of that time, if we both agree that we want to go back, then we'll trade places once more. If just one of us decides against it, then everything must stay as it is."
Alex came around, and sat beside her. "Do you want to go back?" he demanded in an authoritative voice that sounded so much like Darian that it temporarily took her aback.
"I haven't decided one way or the other," she hedged breaking contact with his intense stare.
Danielle flung herself on her other side. "Kristy, don't tell me that you are contemplating going back! Have you lost your mind?" her sister fairly screamed at her.
"Danny, please! I said that I don't know…"
"This is insane!" Danny interrupted.
"What is insane about it? She is obviously old enough to make her own decisions!" Alex interjected.
"You keep out of this, Duke! You are hardly impartial in all of this. You just want Chris back!"
Alex stood up and glared over Kristy's head. "You are, bloody well, right about that! But I do not see you as being 'impartial' either!"
Danny jumped up and glared back at him. "I don't care what you bloody think!"
"Oh, please!" Kristy murmured in an exasperated tone and stood up between them. "For gosh sakes, Danny, calm down. We'll talk about this later." She had never seen Danny lose her temper like this. Usually she was the calm, logical one. Her sister looked at her and realized the fool she was making of herself and visibly relaxed and nodded. Kristy then asked her, "Danny, why don't you fix us some coffee. I think I need to talk with Alexander a few moments alone."
"Okay," she agreed, then looked over apologetically to Alex. "Sorry, Alex."
Alex smiled at her and reached around Kristy to pat her on the arm. "It is I who should apologize."
Kristy could see her sister was about to argue that point, also, so she gave her a friendly push towards the kitchen. "The coffee, Danny."
When she had sat back down she found herself studying Alex. "I just can't get over the fact that you look so much like Darian." Then she amended. "A civilized Darien, that is! I always wondered what Darian would look like in a short hair cut and modern clothes, and now I know. Very nice!"
He grinned. "Thank you for the compliment. And may I say that you and Chris could pass for identical twins."
"We must! Did you know that I even fooled her father?"
"You're joking!"
She shook her head. "No. He's a very nice man, but I don't think he gave Christiana very much attention. She was pretty much left alone to do what she pleased. So when he demanded that she marry Darian, she threw a fit and made that wish that sent her here!"
The duke grimaced. "That I can believe. Christiana seems to have this warped opinion that being married to me would be something close to slavery."
"It's the century that she's from. From what I can see, women aren't regarded as very important. Their worth is in the dowry they bring to a marriage and the heirs that they produce."
Alex heard the pain behind her words and asked, "Did Darian treat you with so little importance?"
She didn't know if it was is kind manner or if it was just that he reminded her so much of her husband, but she felt comfortable with this man. So from start to finish, she poured out her story to him, leaving our nothing – her feelings, the baby – everything.
He was thoughtful for a moment. "From the way Christiana had talked a of Darian, he sounded like a horrid, cruel man who killed for the fun of it and ravished innocent girls. Yet from hearing you tell of him, he sounds like a man who has suffered great pain in his life."
"He has. And Christiana had only heard rumors of Darian. After we were married, I found out none of those rumors were true."
"You married him? We're you forced?" He asked incredulously.
"I had no choice in the matter, but the moment I saw him, I knew that he was special. It was practically love at first sight…for me anyway." She walked to the sliding glass door and looked out to city.
He came behind her. "Did he love you, also?"
"He never told me that he loved. He wants me. He desires me. But he doesn't love me."
She turned and looked at him, tears in her eyes. "And I'm carrying his child."
"Dear God," he said, clearly shocked. "Does he know?"
She nodded. "Yes, and when he found out, he begged me not to return. But I had to get away. I had to make the right decision for my baby and myself."
They stood for a few moments in silence, each thoughtful. Then Alex laid a hand on her shoulder. "Kristy, please do not think that I will pressure you to return. I do love Christiana, and would give everything that I own to have her back, but it has to be right for you." He sighed and dropped his arm. "And besides, Christiana may chose not to return."
Kristy smiled at him. "I don't know about that. Darian told me he was going to make sure that her two weeks would not be pleasant ones. And believe me, if anyone could be unpleasant, it's Darian!" she informed him. "Anyway, if Christiana would not marry you, for fear she'd lose her freedom, I would not expect she would want to be the wife of the one person she wanted to escape."
Alex returned her smile. "I hope that you're right." He turned his attention back to the scenery below them, his face thoughtful for a moment. "Kristy, if… if Chris does not come back – if you do not trade back places – would you consider something?"
She looked up at his handsome profile. "Consider what?"
"Marrying me."
"What?!" she gasped, looking at him totally astounded. "But why?"
"The baby you carry is a Maxwell, is it not?"
"Of course, it is, but I don't see your point."
Alexander ran a hand through his dark hair. "The point is, that the baby needs a father. HE is a Maxwell heir. It would be a travesty to deny him his rightful title. And if he cannot be the fourth Earl of Greystone, then he shall be the fifth Duke of Amberton." Before she could utter a protest, he continued. "And besides, I need to marry and if it cannot be Chris, then I would want it to be you. Since, I've been seeing Christiana, it would not seem at all odd that we would have made a child. No one would question whether the child is mine."
Kristy shook her head as if to gather her thoughts. This was crazy! "Alex, despite the fact that we look alike, I assure you I am not her!"
Alex impatiently shook his head back at her. "No, you don't understand, we are both in love with people that we may never see again. I like you and know that we could live companionably with one another. It would be in name only. Your son, however would be my son. I would raise him and love him as if he were my own." He spoke it with such conviction that Kristy did not doubt that he meant it.
But she was unconvinced. "Could we live like that, Alex? Could we be married without love? Would my son or daughter not be affected by this?"
He covered her hand with his own. "Perhaps it would not remain loveless. We would start out as friends, and love could grow."
She looked away and took a deep breath. Her emotions were in turmoil once again. Decisions. There were so many decisions to be made. "I promised Darian that I would not make my decision until the end of the two weeks. If either Christiana's or my decision causes us to remain where we are, then I will seriously consider your proposal.

Chapter 21

The next morning, Alex was at her door again. It was almost painful to look at him. Upon first glance, he looked so much like Darian that it made her long for her husband. What was he doing? Would he decide that Christiana would work out after all, as a wife? Perhaps there would be an attraction between them.
Perhaps they belonged together.
Forcing herself to dispel her dismal thoughts, she smiled at Alex and invited him in.
"I didn't expect to see you this morning," she commented curiously as he sat down on her sofa. "Can I get you a cup of coffee?"
He looked at her, studying her. She wondered if he felt the same way she did when he looked at her. He must miss Christiana. "No, I've had a cup of tea this morning. Although coffee is quite popular in England, now, I've never developed a taste for it."
She smiled as she sat across from him, picking up her own cup that she'd set down on the coffee table. "I've been drinking too much, I'm afraid. That is one thing I've missed since my medieval adventure." She took a sip as if demonstrating the point.
He smiled and after a moments hesitation got down to the point of his visit. "Kristy, I have an idea I wanted to talk to you about."
She raised an eyebrow. "Sounds important."
He nodded. "It is. I wanted to know if you'd like to travel to Greystone with me."
Kristy slowly lowered her cup down to the table. Her breath caught at the prospect of going to a modern Greystone. "When are you leaving?"
"Today."
Her eyes widened. " I don't know if..." she paused, letting her protest die on her lips. She thought of his proposal. She thought of the child that she carried and that Greystone would someday be his birthright. She thought of the village Darian had worked so hard to preserve, the very village that still existed today.
She had to go. It was as if the place was calling her.
"All right," she answered quickly. "Just let me throw some clothes in a suitcase."
Pleased, he nodded and stood up. "I'll pick you up in an hour."
She nodded and started to turn around, but then he held out his hand to her.
Staring down at his outstretched palm, she slowly reached out to place her hand in his, then lifted her gaze. For a moment they stared at one another. There was a kinship between them, some sort of bond. It wasn't a feeling of attraction or desire, the kind that she felt when she touched Darian, but different somehow. Special.
Suddenly she was in his arms, her head resting against his chest. His arms tightened about her, comforting her. Bringing peace.
They stood that way for a few brief moments, then they slowly broke apart. He kissed her on her forehead, tenderly, then turned and walked out of the door.
Feeling a bit surreal from what she'd just experienced, she turned away from the door and walked to her bedroom. But she kept thinking about Alex and the kind of man he was.
One thing she knew for sure. Christiana would have to be a fool not to love him.
************
They landed at Heathrow around six that afternoon. A limo was waiting for them and drove them up to Greystone, which was located just a few miles from Nottingham and Sherwood Forest. Alex played tour guide for her, pointing out various landmarks along the way. The further they drove out of London, the more beautiful it became. The fields stretched along the highway stretched out upon rolling hills that were criss-crossed with stone walls. Sheep grazed lazily in the fields and old abbeys and ruins of castles could be seen way off in the distance on some lonesome hill as a reminder of yesteryear. It was extraordinary and yet so different from the way she'd seen it in the past.
When they were passing Nottingham, she asked curiously, "So how did you and Christiana meet?"
"I was contacted by Chantal Cosmetics about them using my land for a photo shoot. Chris was one of the models that was on that shoot." He laughed shaking his head. "She didn't seem like the other girls. As a matter of fact, she didn't seemed to know what to do, like she'd never posed for a camera before. Of course, I know know that she actually hadn't!"
Thinking about the career she'd worked so hard to build up, Kristy groaned. "Do I have any sort of a career left?"
He smiled at her and nodded. "Apparently Chris is a natural. Once she realized what she was suppose to do, she took to it like a duck on the water. But I don't think she really enjoyed it." He said the last sentence almost to himself.
"You know, I really didn't either. Not after I realized I wanted to marry and have a family instead."
He looked sad at her words. "That wasn't what Chris wanted. After she went back to New York, she took on some studio work and runway, but she declined to travel. I thought it was so that she could be with me, since I'd taken an apartment over here so that I could be near her. But she was adamant against marriage. She didn't want a family with me or anyone."
Kristy reached out and took his hand into hers in a comforting gesture. His palm has so warm against hers. It made her feel safe.
He looked passed her shoulder, then smiled. "We are here."
"Here? Greystone?" She quickly looked about her, trying to find something familiar about the place. All she saw was a lot of old building that looked to date around 1600-1700. There was nothing of the old Greystone.
She sighed. "It's changed."
This time it was he who squeezed her hand. "Yes, Greystone has been through many changes over the last few centuries. Actually, I am one of a very few titled gentlemen who still actually owns their original land. Most were sold because of taxes or heirs that didn't care about tradition."
The buildings looked somewhat like Nottingham's had looked. Very closed together and close to the narrow street. Some even leaned, they were so old. "Darian, what happened to the castle? Was it torn down?" she suddenly had to know.
"It was one of the few remaining castles after the civil war, but it had been badly damaged. The family at the time, lived in it for a few more years, and then built a hall outside of the town a bit." He pointed to straight ahead. "There it is, now."
It was a ruin, now. Where it had once stood majestically on a hill surrounded by a great wall, the town had built up around it, making the hill look like a small mound. The moat was, of course, gone. The wall was still intact around the gate, but was completely missing in some parts. There in the center stood the broken down Greystone Castle. The ceilings were gone in most places, with just the ********************************l of the building standing like a beacon through the setting sun.
Tears welled up in her eyes and she grabbed onto Alex's arm. "Please...please stop the car."
Alex heard the panic in her voice and immediately picked up the phone to talk to the driver. The car was still in a slow roll when Kristy jumped out of the car, with Alex following close behind.
There was a ticket gate that she ran through, and when the woman behind the booth started to protest that she didn't pay the 3 pounds for the entrance fee, Alex quickly intervened, telling her it was alright.
Kristy ran through the gate up to the castle door that still was intact on it's old rusty hinges. She threw herself onto the door, tears pouring down her cheeks as she felt the cool wood beneath her wet cheek. Her hands caressed the wood, unmindful of the splinters she could incur. There was a feeling in the wood and stone. A feeling of all those who's lived and died had left some part of themselves behind. It was in the air. She could almost here the laughter of the children, the chatter of the servants and villagers.
It was a ruin. A hollow ********************************l of the glorious building it once was. How could it be so? How could it seem so empty and lonely, yet still hum with passion and glory?
"Kristy..." Alex's voice floated over her, just as his arms came around her in comfort. She turned around and allowed him to envelope her into his strong embrace.
"Oh, Alex. It's gone. There's nothing now. Nothing at all," she cried into his shirt.
He smoothed a hand down her hair and kissed the silken tresses. "Not at all, Kristy. It still stands and that in itself is a miracle! It's one of the oldest in England and millions of tourist from around the world come and stand upon its grounds and experience the feeling of being within this grand castle. Some have told me that they could actually hear the sounds of soldiers and the laughter of those who'd lived before. It's a special place. A place that gives everyone a glimpse of the past.
Her tears slowly subsided and she backed away from him wiping her eyes. Slowly she turned back to the castle, looking at it through Alex's eyes. It was still wonderful in its own way. There was something magical about it.
"Here, let's go and look." He pushed open the old door and led her into the ruin.
Slowly she look around and up, noticing that though the floors of the upstairs were gone, she could still see the indention where they once were. Suddenly she wasn't sad anymore. Pulling Alex by the hand, she began to tell him how everything once looked and what went where.
For Alex it was a glimpse into his family history that he had only dreamed about, being a history buff like he was! She made it come alive for him and by the end of their tour, he could almost hear the sounds of people, too.
But soon it became too dark to see anything, and they had to leave. Hand in hand they walked out of the castle. The ticket booth had long ago closed, so Alex used his key to lead them out.
"Now, you get to see how the Maxwell's live now. It's a pretty old hall, itself, but much more comfortable than a castle would have been, " he informed her as they got back into the limo.
Kristy leaned her head back, turning it slightly towards Alex and smiled *******ly. "I can't wait! Do you have one of those long halls where the pictures of all your dead ancestors hang?"
"The longest you've ever seen!"
"Then let's head home."
She almost took the "home" back when she said it, but closed her mouth instead. Greystone did seem like home. Whether it was the twelfth century or the 21st.