“It seems likely but still difficult to comprehend,” he answered.
“You realize you’re going to pay a guy to rob Sir Gawaine of all people.”
“Aye, theguywill more likely swindle me.”
“Imagine if he gets it,” she said, leaning against his hard chest. “There’s no guarantee it would work again or that it would send me back home.”
“Aye, you are correct.”
“I wish I could talk to Gawaine again.” She laughed. “That sounds so insane.”
“Do you wish to return that badly?”
“Yes,” she told him softly. “Of course.”
But she wasn’t sure anymore.
Chapter Thirteen
Seated at histable beside Reg and his wife, Nicholas remembered why he preferred battle over being home. Richard’s return made a bad situation worse.
Nicholas growled in his seat when Reg slurped his oats and cream.
He looked at Margaret. She rolled her eyes at Reg and smiled at Nicholas. She didn’t glare at Reg the way she had glared at him when he’d pulled out his chair the other night.
He turned away from her and looked toward the door. He wanted to be here when Kestrel arrived so she didn’t have to be with Richard on her own, but Richard wasn’t here either.
He tapped his boot under the table. Should he go to her room and get her? He wondered if he was beginning to care for Miss Locksley, or did he just enjoy her company more than anyone else’s? He didn’t want to care. If she had truly appeared here, she could just as easily disappear. If she was mad, could he still love her with her quirks? Could he stop himself from loving her either way?
Was it all true? He didn’t want to say a resounding yes too soon. Mayhap they were all mad. It wasn’t as strange as time travel.
What else did Old Walter know about Arthur Pendragon’s knights and this brooch? He hadn’t known that they were reading about King Arthur the night before. Nicholas would question him some more today. All this talk of time travel had Nicholas thinking if Kestrel truly came back more than five hundred years. If so, she knew if Richard defeated Henry Tudor when they faced off on the field. She most likely knew what became of the princes.
More importantly, she was eager to leave.
It stung when she practically told Walter what was going on, but she hadn’t. She was clever enough to tell Walt nothing, though he’d hinted at understanding her plight.
“Are you waiting so eagerly for the king?” Reg asked. “Or someone else?”
Nicholas turned in his spot to stare at his cousin. “Do you want to be thrown out into the dirt today, Reg? Adele and the children may stay until you find them a place to live. We discussed your flapping tongue already, so I assume you don’t care where you sleep tonight.”
“Of course, I care, Nicholas,” Reg whimpered. “’Twas merely a question I asked.”
“Ah, if that is all ’twas, Reg, then my answer is someone else.” Nicholas didn’t look away but dipped his head and stared at him from beneath the ridge of his dark brow. He waited. He dared Reg to open his mouth again.
His cousin went back to slurping his breakfast. Nicholas was about to tell him he’d be wearing the food if he didn’t stop, when he spotted the king entering the great hall. He made his way to Nicholas’ table.
Could this morning get any worse?
He stood up when Richard reached him and gave over his chair. He put one leg over the bench at the king’s left, beside Reg, and straddled it. He kept his back to his cousin and his face to the king. Better he sit between these two fools, than Kestrel having to.
“Nicholas,” Richard said, “I understand you disappeared with Miss Locksley last eve. Where did you go?”
Nicholas set down his cup. He wouldn’t tell him and put Old Walter in any kind of danger. No matter what else Nicholas told the king, Richard was likely to ask Kestrel when she arrived, and their accounts would not match.
There was only one thing left to do.
“What do you mean by questioning me?” he demanded in a low, deadly tone. “I do not give accounts to you about my personal life.”