A Moonlit Knight_A Knights Through Time Romance Read online

  A Moonlit Knight

  A Knights Through Time Romance

  Cynthia Luhrs

  Copyright © 2018 by Cynthia Luhrs

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For all of you who believe in fairy tales.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Cynthia Luhrs

  Chapter 1

  Present Day—Holden Beach

  “This is supposed to be the happiest day of our lives and you look like somebody swiped your last piece of peach pie.”

  Chloe fingered the green and white tassel. It looked like Christmas lying on the red table. “I am happy.”

  “Chloe Penelope Merriweather, don’t you dare fib to me.” Sara Beth scowled across the table, green eyes bright under the neon signs.

  It was loud in the diner. Everyone from school had gathered together one last time before they partied all night long and went their separate ways over the summer. Chloe sighed.

  “Really. Truly. I’m happy.”

  Her friend was gorgeous, with green eyes and short black hair. She’d be perfect on a movie poster about an escaped fae princess. Half of the baseball team was drooling as they watched Sara Beth eat her sweet potato fries.

  She waved a fry in the air, ketchup droplets landing on the table. “Oh, please. I’m positive you’re having some kind of crisis. I mean, come on, you turned down Jake Evans, the hottest guy in three counties. Something’s up.” She narrowed her eyes. “Now spill.”

  Stalling for time, Chloe took a long sip of the double chocolate shake. Then she reapplied her lip balm and looked around the diner. It was retro; the waitstaff dressed like they were from the fifties.

  Sara Beth’s mom was a life coach and her best friend loved to analyze and “help” those around her. Though right now, Chloe could do without her friend’s all-seeing gaze. She forced herself not to squirm but to remain relaxed and cheerful. A senior graduating from high school. Going onward, ready to start the rest of her entire life and plan everything out down to the last detail. Oh my gosh, was it hot in here? Chloe fanned herself.

  A sharp rap on the table made her jump. “What?”

  “I swear if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to text Jake this instant and tell him you’re on the way to his party.” Sara Beth held up her phone, the purple glitter case sparkling under the lights.

  The anxiety of knowing what to do with the rest of her life faded a bit and Chloe laughed, holding out her hands. “Okay, okay, you win.”

  Her friend leaned across the table. “Is that it? You’ve reconsidered?”

  “No way.” Chloe shook her head. “Jake is hot, I’ll give you that much, but he’s dated every girl within a hundred miles. I’m not interested in being another ex of Jake Evans. There should be a support group. They could call it Jake’s Jilted Women.” How did she explain to her best friend what she was having trouble figuring out herself?

  “We’re done with high school. You’re going to California for the summer and then UCLA. Everyone’s leaving. Nothing will ever be the same again. Before you know it, we’ll all be back here for our twenty-year reunion and everyone will be so much older. I want time to stop.”

  Sara Beth took her hand and squeezed. “Everything is supposed to change. We’re going to college and then we’ll find jobs, get married, maybe have a couple of kids—who knows where we’ll end up living. You have to keep moving forward. It’s just life.” Then she grinned. “But I’m not aging. No way. I plan to look like this forever.”

  Chloe sniffed. “I know we have to grow up. But why can’t things stay the same?” She blew her nose. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m super excited to travel around Europe. But my grandparents are getting older. I thought they’d be here forever, constant, never changing.” Her throat closed up and Chloe had to swallow a few times before she could go on.

  “They’re supposed to be here forever. Arthur is nice enough and my mom is great, but Granda Drake is the one I want to walk me down the aisle, to pull out his sword and tell the guy he better treat me right or he’ll run him through.” The words tumbled out, faster and faster. “When I think of losing them, I can’t breathe. What if something happens to one of them while I’m gone this summer? Or away at school?” She used her thumb to swipe at the tear rolling down her cheek.

  Sara Beth squeezed her hand, then let go. “You’ve been my best friend since third grade, when you socked Willie James for putting that awful toad down the back of my dress.” She paused while the waitress cleared their plates.

  “Can I get y’all anything else? Everyone’s heading to the Evans’ for the big party.”

  Chloe let out a long sigh.

  “No thanks, Mrs. Bean. Just the check,” Sara Beth said.

  Mrs. Bean hugged them, tightly. The woman was a workout fanatic with arms of steel. “This one’s on me. You only graduate from high school once. Now you two have fun tonight.”

  When they were alone again, Sara Beth looked Chloe in the eye. “Everyone in town knows your grandmother will live forever. My mom says Miss Mildred has mellowed but that she used to terrorize the whole town before she and Drake got together.”

  “She almost fell on the steps last week,” Chloe said. “And now she’s hobbling around. It makes my heart hurt.”

  “Girl, you trip over your own feet at least once a week. And Miss Mildred will outlive us all.” Sara Beth stopped laughing. “You’ve always been serious. With your nose in a book, daydreaming away. But Chloe, it’s time to take your nose out of the book, forget the imaginary boyfriends, and live. Fall in love with a real guy. Someone a little older than you. You need a guy who’s mature and responsible. Someone who cares about others more than himself.”

  “I’ve been in love,” Chloe retorted.

  Sara Beth smirked. “Oh, you have, have you?” She pointed at a group of guys in the corner. “And what fine specimen of manhood has had the honor of your affections?”

  “Well…Mike.”

  “Please. You dumped him for not holding the door open for you.”

  “Fine. I loved Jim.”

  Sara Beth rolled her eyes. “You said kissing him was like getting big, slobbery, smelly kisses from a dog.”

  “There was—”

  “That’s what I thought. You hold every guy up to an impossible level. No guy will ever measure up to Mr. Drake. Or to any book boyfriend.” Sara Beth arched a brow.

  “Noah,” Chloe whispered.

  “Oh, sweetie.” Sara Beth took her hand, the purple nail polish sparkling in the light. “I know you loved him. I’m
an idiot for bringing the subject up.”

  “It’s taken me a long time to get over him.” Chloe pulled her hand away. “When you and Bobby broke up, how long did it take you to trust again?”

  Sara Beth looked away. “I’m still working on it.” Then she smiled. “But I’m dating, and I’ll keep dating until I know I’m over it. By then, I’ll be ridiculously happy.”

  “It’s hard for me to put myself out there,” Chloe said as she slid out of the booth.

  “I know. But if you don’t, you’ll end up all alone with five little yappy dogs that you dress up in costumes and post all over social media.” Sara Beth hugged Chloe as they made their way out of the diner. It was nearly empty; everyone was already on their way to the party.

  “Promise me.” Sara Beth pulled back and looked Chloe in the eye. “Promise me you’ll give some cute, slightly older European guy a chance, and fall madly in love with him. You need a summer fling. Or better yet, a fling in every country.” She waggled her eyebrows, looking like a demented fairy.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Chloe said. “Why would I want to fall in love and then have to come back to the States and go away to college in the fall? I think that’s a bit too long-distance of a relationship, even for me.”

  “Trust me. You’ll hear all those sexy accents and fall in love. It will be good for you. Consider it homework.” Sara Beth climbed into the passenger seat of the red MG. “I still can’t believe Miss Mildred let you take the car tonight. Now put your hair up and let’s go find a cute boy to kiss to celebrate graduating. With honors, I might add.”

  Instead of retorting that she’d kissed enough frogs for several lifetimes, Chloe put her hair up and then put the top down on the old car. She’d make an appearance at the party and talk Sara Beth into leaving early.

  Her friend cranked up the radio, singing along, and Chloe gave up that plan. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 2

  Summer 1334—England

  “Nay, we must go around.” The warrior crossed himself.

  Another agreed. “’Tis a cursed place.”

  “Bloody hell,” Richard said. “’Tis as if I am besieged by Garrick’s seven sisters instead of seasoned warriors. I’ve no patience for sniveling women.”

  Richard FitzGregory, now Lord Bainford, dismounted with a grunt, his leg giving way as he went down on one knee. One of his men rushed to his aid as he cursed. “Leave me be. My leg was stiff from riding so long.” He pulled the hood of his cloak up, covering the side of his face.

  Much as he was loath to admit, the standing stones were fearsome. A presence lingered, not unlike walking across a battlefield long after the battle was over. With a grim look at the stones, he hesitated, hearing whispers where there were no men. Mayhap they should go around.

  Garrick clapped him on the shoulder. “My lord, shall we go around? ’Tis said the wood is not haunted as this wicked place.”

  “Cease calling me ‘my lord,’” Richard grumbled.

  His captain smiled. “But, Lord Bainford, ’tis your title, granted by the king.” Garrick wisely took a step back. “Mayhap you should not have saved his life. Though methinks a title and a castle ’tis a proper trade for your pretty visage and your eye.”

  Garrick ignored the look of displeasure as his incessant babbling, never-ending, seeped into Richard’s skull. He had the intense need to throttle his oldest friend.

  “Your face before the arrow found its mark was not so pleasing. Now you look rather like a pirate. Lasses like pirates.” Then Garrick chuckled. “Mayhap ’tis the pirate’s gold lasses desire, not the pirate.”

  “All men look alike in the dark,” another of the men called out.

  “Says you,” Richard said. “All the lasses can tell me from you womanly lot.”

  There were jeers and slurs from the men, each more outlandish than the last.

  “Cease,” Richard said. He stomped about, cursing and snarling until his foul mood improved. Wisely, the men were closemouthed, tending to the horses.

  The horses were fresh, the weather mild, the stones a day’s ride from Bainford Castle. There were black rumors about the place. ’Twas said to be haunted. He snorted. The perfect place for a man with his affliction. A beast.

  “My lord?” One of the men nervously looked about. “Might we continue our journey?”

  With a sigh, Richard allowed he would have to accept being addressed as “my lord.” Perchance ’twas better than being called bastard or monster. Which he was, thanks to his father and to the enemy who’d failed to murder his king. Richard wished his wretched father was still breathing so he could run him through.

  “Come. Let us leave this cursed place and sleep with a roof over our heads, cold ale, and warm wenches this night, lads.”

  The men were silent as they rode past the stones. Richard sneered. He would show no fear. In saving the life of his king, Richard had not escaped unscathed; he’d lost an eye and the fire had taken half of his visage. As he was healing in an abandoned chapel, the roof collapsed, and he almost lost his leg and arm. Injured and deformed, he was awarded a title, a castle, and sent away. There would be no more enemies for him to vanquish. No more battles to be fought. A cripple was useless. Richard’s men were granted leave by their sire to see him home safely as if he were a mere child. Did his sovereign see fit to gift him gold? Nay. So Richard hoped his home would not require any repair, as his own gold was in short supply. He cast a dark look over his shoulder at the stones.

  “Not like my life could be any worse.” Thunder cracked across the sky, his horse galloped into the woods, and Richard swore he heard the sound of laughter over the storm.

  The forest opened to a clearing, and from there they could see Bainford Castle. Richard could not fathom that this was to be his home. Until they rode closer. The walls were crumbling, bits of rubble strewn about, and as they rode under the portcullis, he swallowed, the walls closing in on him, the journey lasting a fortnight, until finally they rode into the gloomy courtyard.

  Saints, the place was little more than a ruin. The door to his hall hung open and birds took flight from holes in the roof.

  Garrick raised a meaty hand and scratched at his chin. “I thought it would be—”

  “Nay, do not say. ’Tis an ill-fated day.” Richard looked to the heavens and around the bailey. “Tell me the stables are intact.”

  The grim look on the men’s faces told him the tidings were not good.

  “There are only a few holes in the walls and roof.” The man grimaced as the rain pounded the ground. “The garrison is the same, my lord.”

  “Bloody hell.” Richard pushed the hood back, the rain cooling his face, and ran a hand through his hair. “See to the horses.” He unsheathed his sword, relishing a challenge, no matter how small. “I will see to the hall.”

  Feeling every bit his score of years, Richard entered the gloom, prepared to do battle with whatever evil lurked within.

  * * *

  “Are ye just getting in?” Drake Montgomery, or Granda, as Chloe called him, handed her a mug of green tea.

  “I know, right? A cup of tea will wake me up.”

  Her granda ran a hand through his hair as Chloe squinted up at him.

  “Sara Beth decided to stay at the party. I left early and walked on the beach. Guess I fell asleep out here.” She yawned and stretched. “What time is it? My phone died.”

  He sat in one of the rocking chairs, next to her, facing the water.

  “Do you remember when you were little, Millie and I would find you out here, curled up in a chair with that tattered stuffed elephant you carried everywhere? Your poor mom would be frantic looking for you.”

  “I remember. Ellie was my best friend. Mom sewed her up so many times she looked like Frankenstein. I still have her; she’s on my bookshelf.”

  Chloe scraped her corkscrew curls back into a long ponytail. How was it possible? During the school year, days seemed to take weeks to pass, while time wit
h Drake and Mildred, whom he called Millie, passed in seconds. They weren’t her real grandparents, but they’d adopted her mom and Chloe, so to her they were as real as any biological family. Maybe more so, because they’d chosen her.

  “You better text your mom and let her know you’re here.”

  “Let me plug in. The phone died.” After a few minutes, she had enough charge and saw there were several missed calls from her mom.

  Nope. Not calling right now. Chloe knew her mom was not happy about the upcoming trip, and she was too tired to fight about it before she had even eaten breakfast. Taking the easy way out, she sent off a quick text to let Mom know she was at Gull Cottage.

  She and her mom, and now Arthur, lived a few streets down. They had a view of the marsh, but there was something about the ocean, hearing the waves, and watching the ebb and flow of the tide that always helped Chloe think.

  “Done.” She put the phone on the table and rocked back and forth, happy to sit in silence with her granda and watch the gulls play in the waves.

  * * *

  Richard sat on a stool, his feet warm from the fire in the hearth as the wind howled outside like the very hounds of hell he was oft compared to.

  He knew what was said about him in the village. In truth, he had not meant to become a recluse. Tired of being called a beast, he retreated within his walls, such as they were, and brooded. A great deal. Though he also drank ale when he could not fathom what his life had come to. Thus far, it had been a tragedy of immense proportions.