Beyond Time: A Knights Through Time Travel Romance Page 7

  “What did you have to do, Fitz? Did you tup her?”

  “She is a fine woman and has promised we will be together when I am free. My Tracy used to have a very important job, made lots of money. But she had some problems and could not handle the stress, so now she cleans this place. Though no more—she will leave for me, no longer work here, but not until long after we escape so as to not arouse suspicion, and then we will be together. I’m going to ask Tracy to marry me.”

  Connor slapped him on the back. “Aye, take the lass to wife. I believe you will enjoy taking her to bed as well.”

  Fitz turned pink, pursing his lips. “You should not say such things about my bride to be.”

  Connor inclined his head. “My pardon to you and your betrothed.”

  All they had to do now was wait until three fifteen today, when the door that would lead them to freedom was unguarded. Fitz stood up, yelling out a string of numbers as Connor bit his lip to keep from chuckling. This was his friend acting as he did every day. The word was normal.

  “I demand to be let out. Do ye hear me?” he bellowed, and stomped about as he’d done every day since he arrived. They made it through lunch, and Connor ate two helpings, not knowing when he would have another meal once they were free. Fitz assured him they would have food to eat and clothes to wear, so no one would know they were escaped. An alarm would sound when the orderlies discovered they were gone, and people would be looking for them outside the walls.

  When they escaped, they were to go to Tracy’s home and wait for her. She would then help them go where they wished.

  The clock struck three, and Connor watched as the hands moved so slowly that he wanted to take a sword and strike the clock from the wall. Why did people in the future mark time in such small increments? They were obsessed with time when they could not control it, so why bother? Why did they not simply wake with the sun and go to sleep with the moon?

  The future was a strange place. He would see outside the walls and then go home where he belonged. To ride his horse and hide from the Armstrong, worry over the price on his head, ’twas better than being here. There wasn’t enough land or blue sky. When he looked out the window in the great hall, all he saw were tall buildings made of metal and what Fitz explained was concrete. The future was cold and cramped. Connor had seen not a single horse nor patch of grass.

  Connor kept his head down, slowly making his way across the room, stopping to knock over the chess pieces of the three men who every day sat in front of them, staring at the pieces. The orderly yelled at him, and he shrugged.

  “I needs water.”

  The man pointed around the corner.

  “You know where it is, McTavish. Go get it yourself. I’m not your maid.”

  He made his way around the corner and, when the guard wasn’t looking, crossed the hall to the door, where he met Fitz.

  “Hurry, man. The bloody orderly will be coming to check on me.”

  The key slid into the lock, and Connor released his breath when the door opened. They were almost free. This corridor, instead of being a pale green, was a pale blue, no doubt to keep everyone calm, though personally, if they wanted to keep everyone calm, they should’ve had large windows looking out on trees and green. That always made him feel better. And preferably water, so that they could listen to a rushing stream or a loch.

  There was no one in the corridor, and they ran down the hall, for Tracy had assured them they would have five minutes to reach the next door. The key would unlock it too, and then one more door between them and freedom. The room the key would open had a door that opened to the outside.

  The door was number 112. Voices echoed down the corridor as they were checking each door. As the door opened and they slipped inside, a man and woman passed by, talking about their lives. Connor and Fitz stayed quiet, not moving as they waited to be sure the man and woman were gone and would not find them.

  It was only then that they looked around the room. ’Twas full of boxes, covered in dust, as if no one had been there in a very long time. Fitz’s betrothed had said it was a storage room of old records, and no one went in there anymore now that they used computers. The owners didn’t even have her clean this room.

  Connor lifted the boxes, pushing Fitz away. The man had tried to lift one and almost dropped it, making a loud noise Connor was sure would get them found out. They could not risk discovery, not now when they were so close to freedom. He cleared a path and they found a bag hanging on the door. When they took it down and opened it, they found clothes for them to change into. Tracy was a fine woman, and Fitz was fortunate to have found her. She was not like Melissa, who had watched the men in blue take Connor away to this place, though he thought she had looked sad when he called to her for aid.

  FOURTEEN

  The days were monotonous. Every day, Mellie woke, went to work, came home, and tried to talk herself out of stalking her ex-boyfriend on social media. The first few weeks she’d hardly left the apartment except to finish her exams, go to work, or to pick up a few groceries. The locked room reproached her, the houses no longer filling her with joy, and after a while, she no longer paused by the door.

  The women in the houses mocked her. No matter that they were alone in their homes; they were happy. Why couldn’t she find the same happiness?

  Her friends had been supportive. Amy had come over several times and spent several nights hanging out to keep her company. Even Claire had come over a couple of times after she’d lost yet another boyfriend.

  What was wrong with the three of them? Why couldn’t they seem to keep a guy? Or was it the men? Were they the ones that had the problem, the grass always being greener in the world of swiping left then moving on to the next person without even trying to see if a relationship would work?

  Tired of thinking about why she was a failure in love, she looked at her phone again, letting a sigh escape. Tonight she had to face her parents and brothers for a family get-together. It was the preplanning session for the big family reunion.

  That was the one time each year Aunt Jilly made an appearance, although after she left, everyone talked about her until the next reunion.

  Mellie took a shower and brushed her teeth, which felt scummy enough that she wondered when was the last time she had brushed them.

  She had to admit, after getting dressed and putting on a little makeup, she felt better. Even at work nowadays, she barely made an effort, scraping her wet hair back into a ponytail, letting the curls dry and frizz up, and she rarely wore makeup. Simply brushing her teeth, taking a shower, and getting dressed took everything out of Mellie.

  If she didn’t find the energy to make an effort, her mother would fuss, so she drank three cups of green tea while she applied her makeup. Then she dried her hair and fluffed the curls so they weren’t springing out all over her head like a demented Medusa. Her hair had grown longer and her pants barely buttoned. When she stepped on the scale, she wanted to pitch it out the window. Mellie had gained ten pounds since that day. The cabinets were full of junk food, processed food, and all kinds of goodies, but they did nothing to make her feel better.

  Everyone knew sugar was an addiction. The substance never made anyone feel better except for the few moments while they consumed it, she knew she felt horrible afterward, and yet she couldn’t seem to stop buying the crap and inhaling it.

  While she knew junk food didn’t fill the hole Greg had left, right now it helped numb the pain, though Mellie didn’t want it to become her go-to way of coping, and it was headed that way if she didn’t do something about her eating soon. She’d seen those TV shows, the ones where women gave up, closing themselves off from the world, hiding in their homes, never leaving. Eating, eating, and eating until they blew up into a huge balloon, and then the firemen had to come and cut a wall out of the side of the house and carry them away, to the shock and dismay of the neighbors.

  Okay, so maybe she was being a little dramatic, but as Mellie looked around, noting the state of h
er apartment, she made a decision. Tomorrow she was cleaning up. She couldn’t stand looking at the pigsty one more day.

  At dinner that night, she walked in to Maggiano’s, where the maître d’ greeted her, taking both her hands in his and kissing her on the cheek.

  “Bella, how lovely to see you. You’re looking fabulous as always.”

  He led her to the table where her family was already seated. As she sat down, her mom reached over and hugged her.

  “Oh, honey, we’re so sorry to hear about Greg. How are you holding up?”

  Her oldest brother, Cal, leaned across the table and squinted at her. “Lost another one, huh, sis? Looks like you’ve been eating to make up for it. You better watch out—you won’t catch a man if your butt gets any bigger.”

  She threw a dinner roll at him, hitting him in the shoulder and then regretting tossing the delicious bread. Cal just laughed and ate the roll in two bites.

  Her youngest brother, Heath, opened his mouth, but before he could add his delightful commentary, his wife clapped a hand over his mouth.

  “Ignore him. They’re both jerks. How are you, Mellie? It’s so hard to be single nowadays. The difficulties you girls have to go through. I’m so glad Heath and I got married right out of school, don’t you agree, honey?”

  Her younger brother kissed Sue on the cheek as their demon boys played under the table, running toy cars up and down Mellie’s legs. She was glad she had jeans on, because she hated to think what a forest they would’ve found on her unshaven legs.

  “Thanks for the concern, y’all but I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than fine.”

  Her dad stopped in the middle of twirling a forkful of pasta and looked up. “Why is that, honey? Did you find a new job?”

  “I told you, Dad, I’m at the museum through the summer. I’m looking for accounting jobs now, so when I graduate next year I’ll be set.”

  “Don’t you think you should intern somewhere this summer?” Karen said.

  “You know you could work at the firm,” her dad said. “I’ll make a call on Monday.”

  She knew as CEO her father could get her hired with the snap of his fingers, but the last thing she wanted to do was work at his company. He’d constantly be checking on her, and then it would all come out that she didn’t have an accounting degree. Mellie would have an art degree, and what on earth was she going to do with an art degree? The job market was tough, she hadn’t had any luck finding anything yet, and she wanted to create art full-time, as unrealistic as it might be, so for now, she was staying put at the museum, working in the gift shop. The hours were good, and it gave her plenty of time to focus on her art.

  She was just barely making ends meet, but Mellie knew if she kept working at it, soon she would be ready to show her houses to the gallery. They would take her on and everything would change. Then her life would start and she could show her parents she was an accomplished artist. Not a failure, not crazy like Aunt Jilly.

  “I appreciate it, Dad, but you know I’d prefer to find something on my own instead of having you do it for me. You’re always telling us we need to do things on our own.”

  Her dad beamed at her from the end of the table. “That’s our Mellie, always taking care of herself.”

  Yeah, she did, but once in a while it would be nice to have someone else take care of her.

  Cal was not to be dissuaded: he kicked her under the table, and she jumped, her fork clattering onto the plate. A spot of marinara sauce splashed the front of her white shirt.

  “What exactly do you mean you’re doing great? You don’t have a good job, you got dumped by your boyfriend, the reunion is in a month, and everyone will be talking about you being single, so what’s the big news, little sis?”

  She stomped on his foot, gratified to hear him grunt and then grunt again as his wife must’ve elbowed him in the ribs. Karen winked at Mellie across the table.

  “Leave her alone, Cal. You know how hard it is to date today. You’ve heard my friends talk about the absence of good men. You’re lucky I said yes.”

  Cal put a hand over his heart. “And I thank my lucky stars every day that you snatched me up. I was a goner as soon as I laid eyes on you, my dear.”

  Karen laughed and Mellie thought she was off the hook, until Heath pushed his plate away and leaned his elbows on the table, carefully watching her.

  “Don’t keep us in suspense. What’s the big news?”

  FIFTEEN

  Mellie cringed. Then, out of nowhere, before she could stop the words, it was like her mouth just started moving, her brain ignored every command to shut up, and the words leapt out of her and across the dinner table.

  “I’m seeing someone new. He’s really quite amazing.”

  There were various noises around the table, and her mom’s eyes widened.

  “Oh, honey, that’s great. I’m so glad you’ve climbed back on the horse. Your father and I have been so worried about you, not to mention your brothers. We thought maybe you were going to be single forever.” She laughed.

  “You don’t want to end up like Aunt Jilly,” Cal said.

  “Who is this wonderful guy who farts diamonds?” Heath squinted at her.

  “Well…” And again the words fell out Mellie’s mouth. “You see, he’s a professor of medieval history. I met him when he was lecturing at the museum.”

  Which wasn’t entirely a lie, considering how she’d met the guy who ended up not being her coworker. His name was Connor. She cringed remembering the look on his face when they took him away for a psych eval. But on the bright side, with him locked up, he was the ideal fake boyfriend. And who would know?

  Mellie knew enough details to make him sound like the perfect boyfriend. It would solve all her problems. He would always be busy lecturing, traveling around, and working. Let’s see…she’d have him working in another town, heck, maybe in another state, and they’d travel to see each other on weekends. And then, right when the big family reunion rolled around…suddenly they’d have a falling out and break up. It was going to be absolutely perfect.

  “Tell us more about this guy.” Cal arched a brow.

  Heath looked skeptical. “Yeah, we want to meet him. You’re bringing him to the reunion, right?”

  “I am. He’s really excited to meet everyone. In fact, he wanted to be here tonight, but he had a conference in England for a week. He lives in North Carolina, and it’s a long drive, so right now we only see each other on weekends.”

  “That’s awfully far, honey. I worry about you driving back and forth,” her dad said, but her mom patted his hand and softened her eyes as she smiled at Mellie.

  “Don’t worry. Mellie will be fine. We can’t wait to meet him. He sounds delightful. What’s his name?” Her mom had that look, the one that told Mellie she was busy planning a wedding in her head as she spoke.

  “Connor. Connor McTavish.”

  “A Scot. What does he look like? Do tell,” Karen said as she and Sue leaned forward, shushing their children.

  “Tell us. We always like to hear about a good-looking man.”

  Warming to her subject, Mellie filled them in. “Connor’s tall, a little over six feet, and not only does he teach medieval history, but he also teaches sword-fighting workshops.”

  Everyone laughed, and she chuckled. “I know, he doesn’t even need to go to a gym. He feels like a concrete wall when I hug him.”

  “Ugh, too much information, sis.” Heath made a face, but Sue shushed him again.

  “He has dark hair. It’s a little bit long—sorry, Dad—almost to his shoulders, and he has the most amazing blue eyes. They’re indigo blue.”

  She took a big bite of pasta and chewed, aware that all eyes were on her. Their waiter brought dessert menus, and when he left, she continued.

  “He’s originally from Scotland, and works at Duke. Some kind of exchange thing, I don’t know. Anyway, he’s got that wonderful Scottish accent. He’s very polite and a gentleman, and Connor is charming. I
’m sure it’s going to work out. In fact, I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but it’s getting serious.”

  Oh my goodness, where did that come from? She wanted to smack herself. But, in this far already, she went on.

  “He can’t wait to meet all of you, and I know you’ll love him. You’ll meet him at the reunion.”

  But her parents and brothers all chimed in as one, and she wondered if they had a button inside that made them all speak at the same time.

  “No, we want to meet him before then,” her mom said. “When he comes back from England, let’s all get together, we’ll go for dessert, on the water, at that place you love.”

  “I’m sure he’d like that.”

  But Mellie had no intention of anything of the sort. All she would say when the time came was that he was working on some paper or teaching a workshop on the weekend. She’d already planted the seed that he taught sword classes. When it was time, she’d say some rich guy wanted a private lesson for the weekend, and there you go.

  Feeling quite pleased with herself, Mellie enjoyed her sorbet, eating in peace. When she stepped into her filthy apartment, she promised herself she’d clean in the morning.

  SIXTEEN

  Throughout his time at Mint Hill, when he was not thinking of escape, Connor could not help but think of the woman, Melissa. He wondered how she was doing and why her eyes were so sad. Remembered kissing her. He’d kissed many wenches. When his lips touched hers, ’twas like a first kiss. There had been no others before her. For a moment he’d felt like a lad again, fumbling in the heather with one of the girls in his clan. But mayhap he thought of her because the only women here were old or witless.

  He and Fitz changed clothes. Connor was happy to leave the ugly clothing behind. The new hose were soft, as was the shirt, though a bit large.

  Connor did not want a future girl. He knew they were troublesome wenches, and while the Thorntons might be content, he did not want one for his own. He wanted to go home to his own time. Then he would take a wife, pay the price on his head, and make many babes. If the Thornton women could travel to the past and he’d traveled to the future, he must be able to go home. He could not be trapped in this time; ’twas too different, loud, and he did not like the smells. Connor yearned for his home and for Scotland.