But she moved. Oh, she moved atop him. At first it pained her, stretching her open wider. But she pushed down and pulled up until he gritted his teeth and threw back his head. She watched him. She felt him filling her to overflowing. She would never share this kind of abandon with anyone else. “I love you,” she whispered, falling upon him when it was over.
They dozed and woke up twice more to make love. She was certain she was going to hurt in the morning, but she didn’t care. This was her night. This was Michael’s night. They would have what they wanted.
“Tell me more about the twenty-first century?”
“Everyone is in a mad hurry to go places or to get things done. It’s a time of instant gratification. There are millions of people.”
“Where do they all live?”
“Everywhere,” he told her. “In the city where I live, people live in buildings.” He described them and she sat up.
“You have images of twobuildingson you!”
He shook his head at himself. Here was proof that he was telling the truth. He explained that they were the towers of the World Trade Center. He told her they were the towers of 9/11, where so many, including Geoff, had died. The date of the tragedy was tattooed on him. September 11, 2001. But she already believed him. Michael was honest.
It sounded like a very violent world. Everyone seemed as if they were smarter, creating things like cars and planes, ships that traveled to space, phones. There was so much, but what good was it all if everyone was killing each other? She was happy Michael came here. But was he any safer with Preston around?
They slept for the night in each other’s arms. Charlotte felt safe there. She felt loved and cared for. She fell asleep thinking how strange it was that one man could provide everything she needed.
Only one thing spoiled her dreams. Preston. She had to tell him she was married! She also had to tell him that she was quitting the life he followed. She was going to follow her husband and do things the right way. Preston would hate her for it. He would hate Michael and, most likely, would send someone to kill him.
He would also hate her because of what she’d told her husband. Though she admitted nothing, Michael was no fool.
They woke early the next morning and met her father in the dining hall. Rosie and the others chose to go back to the village with provisions for another sennight.
“I supplied your keep with weapons last night,” her father said, sitting to his left. “I need to ensure your safety now that you’re married to my daughter.”
“Thank you for your concern,” Michael told him, happy to finally get the weapons. “Even if it is only for Charlotte’s sake.”
“Aye,” she agreed, sitting at his right. “And thank you for putting my friends up for the night, Father.”
He smiled at her. “Of course.”
“You’ll have as many men as you need to rebuild and all the supplies,” her father told Michael. “I just want you back at the keep, training men to go out there and fight these masked bastards.” He meant the Horsemen.
“That’s my intention, my lord.”
Her father smiled at him and patted his back again. “Sutton has written to me twice demanding that you be arrested for shooting him in the leg. What do you think, Detective? Should you arrest yourself, since I did put you in charge of everything?”
Michael thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. “No, I was innocent.”
They both chuckled and the weight of what was about to change hit Charlotte. Michael and Preston were going to go to war. One might not come out alive. The backs of her eyes burned but she held back her tears. She loved Preston, but she would do whatever needed to be done to keep Michael safe.
“Father,” she began. Things seemed to be cordial enough between them to finally ask what she wanted to know. “Why did you believe Michael when he first came to you, instead of throwing him out? A man comes to you out of nowhere, claims to come from the future, and you believe him. And not only do you believe him, you set him as a watch over everything, including you daughter. I must admit, it has made me feel terrible. Why? Why did you believe him?”
Her father looked at them both as if he were trying to decide something. He apparently did because he blew out a heavy breath, one he seemed to be holding for quite some time and turned to Michael.
“Three weeks ago, I received a letter from a man who claimed to be living in the twenty-first century. He told me who you were and to expect you. You would not know how you arrived here. But ’twas by his hand, he claimed—to end your loneliness. He told me you were adetectiveand would make a fine ‘officer of the law’. He advised me to listen to you.”
Hold on, Michael thought, putting down his cup. To ease my loneliness? What? Who was behind this?
“He said you would help Charlotte,” the duke continued. “No one knew that she was in trouble. I cover up everything for her. He told me you would help my daughter as you tried to help his recently.”
Michael had the urge to laugh. He might not stop until he went mad—if he hadn’t gone there already. This was getting crazier all the time. “The letter was from Charles Lancaster?”
“That is what some call him, I imagine,” her father told him and looked around cautiously. “No one must hear. No one must find out.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
