“Aye, ’tis Winterforth.”
“You didn’t tell me we were going to a castle.”
Before she knew it, they came to a bridge over a river. She looked down, remembering the last time she’d been on a bridge over a river. It hadn’t ended well. They rode across, and she clenched her hands together as the horse’s hooves clattered on the wood, and over and over she repeated the same words: “Please don’t let us go over.”
The bridge held, and they passed under a pointed gate and into the castle proper. There were people everywhere, running around doing who knew what. The clang of metal was loud as a group of men fought with swords. A few were shooting arrows at targets, others wrestled, but her attention was pulled back to the men fighting with swords.
Her breath came in shallow gasps, the scene in the woods clear in her mind, the one that ended with two men dead.
“Breathe. You are safe, Mistress Ashley. I will not let you fall.”
Christian. He knew she was about to hyperventilate. A few deep breaths and Ashley’s mind processed the scene. A living, breathing, functioning castle. While she’d never been one for history, sitting on a horse with a medieval man in the middle of a castle courtyard certainly gave her pause.
Up until now she had accepted she was in the past, tried to blend in. But there was something about seeing a functioning castle that made everything seem permanent. Christian lived in an actual castle. On a day-to-day basis.
Something else bothered her as they rode into the courtyard. Something wasn’t quite right. Ashley couldn’t put her finger on it, was trying to figure out what it was, when a man approached.
“My lord, I sent men out to search for you when your horse arrived riderless.”
“We ran into a spot of mischief, nothing to worry over.” Christian grinned. “Mayhap next time the thieves will think before they steal from a Thornton.”
Ashley was a tornado forming in the sky ready to touch down and obliterate everything in her path. Oblivious to her mood, Christian dismounted and lifted her off the horse, and it took everything she had not to kick him in the gut.
While she stood there fuming, another man approached, a small man with what looked like scrolls of paper in his arms. He made a little bow in front of Christian.
“My lord, I am pleased you have returned unharmed. A messenger arrived a few days ago to bring wondrous news. Your betrothed will be here in a se’nnight.”
“We must be prepared.” He looked at Ashley and frowned. “Mistress Ashley requires a dress. See it is done.”
“Of course, my lord.”
She’d had enough. “My lord? Betrothed?” Ashley glared and poked him in the chest. “Who in the hell are you? Did it slip your mind to tell me these little tidbits?”
The little man looked at her with a sniff. She didn’t know how he did it, since he was a good six inches shorter than she, but he looked down his nose at her and sneered.
“You, lady, have been traveling with Christian Thornton, Lord Winterforth.” The man turned his attention back to Christian. “Shall I have a bath prepared?”
She stamped her foot, and it felt good. Really good. Now she knew why he stomped about and bellowed all the time. Ashley poked Christian again.
“You lied to me, you big jerk. You’ve been lying to me since we met.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “To think I thought about staying with you. How could I be so stupid.”
“Later,” Christian said to the man.
Then he took her by the arm. “’Tis not the place. Come with me.”
She didn’t have much choice, since he practically dragged her into the castle. They entered a huge room—the great hall, maybe? And not for the first time since arriving in the past, Ashley wishedshe’d taken more of an interest in history. Wished she’d paid more attention to the dates and the events of this time.
The inside of the castle wasn’t at all what she expected. She had thought there would be dirty floors, snarling dogs, and gray stone, dripping water everywhere. But it wasn’t at all like that. The room they passed through would have made her happy to curl up in front of the fire with a good book, though it was chilly, even with the fires roaring.
The floors were stone, the walls were painted and paneled in wood, and there were tapestries and paintings hanging on the walls. There were multiple fireplaces with fires crackling, large enough she could have fit a whole group of supermodels and a sports car in one of them. People nodded to him, welcoming him back as they openly stared at her, the curiosity plain on their faces.
Ignoring them all, Christian dragged her through the room and up the stairs, where they came to a door. He shoved it open to show her a bedroom.
“Your chamber while you are at Winterforth.”
Ashley stepped into the beautiful room. There was a large, heavy bed, a small trunk at the foot of the bed, and a table with a pitcher and basin. She pushed down on the bed.
“I was expecting straw, but it looks like you have a real mattress and bedding. I’m going to sleep like the dead tonight.” She whirled around. “But I’m still angry with you.”
