Knights by Linda Lael Miller

Author:Linda Lael Miller [Miller, Linda Lael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780671873172
Google: dRIPQCET8iIC
Amazon: 0671873172
Goodreads: 699191
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 1996-11-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Gloriana huddled miserably in the soft chair before Kirkwood’s fire, quite overwhelmed by the magnitude of what had befallen her, stricken mute with shock. That she’d experienced a transition like this before, and that she’d half expected a recurrence, did nothing to settle the roiling tumult in her mind and spirit. She had been a little girl the first tune and had often imagined, in her loneliness and neglect, becoming a princess and living in a castle. It was only mildly surprising, therefore, when the dream came true; for so fanciful a child, the boundaries between fantasy and reality are fluid, forever shifting and changing.

She had hoped at first that Kirkwood and his modern world were only illusions, wrought by the crippling headache that had struck her down in the graveyard of Kenbrook Hall on a misty morning in the thirteenth century. Now, however, it was plain from the substance and texture of things and people around her that she had indeed traveled through time, spanning more than six hundred years in a matter of moments.

Gloriana closed her eyes, struggling to hold on to her composure. In this clean but oddly frenzied place where she found herself, Dane was long dead, as were Gareth and Edward, Judith, and Lady Elaina. She was utterly alone, except for the man and woman who had conceived the child Megan and then abandoned her.

In all her confusion and fear, Gloriana could find no desire to search them out. They were, and had ever been, strangers.

An assortment of sounds assaulted her from all sides—faint strains of music, somehow scratchy, the drone of some half-remembered cleaning machine, the tick-tock of the time-keeping device on the mantel, the whoosh of wheels on the rainy street in front of Kirkwood’s cottage. Gloriana sighed and opened her eyes again, to find Kirkwood still seated on his padded footstool, regarding her with a pensive and sympathetic expression.

“What’s happened to you?” he asked, and this time Gloriana translated what he was saying with much less difficulty. She realized with mingled relief and despair that her mind was adapting to the new surroundings, interpreting, making it possible to communicate. That was vital, of course—but did it mean she was doomed to stay?

She looked about, a little wildly perhaps, her throat still so constricted as to prevent speech, wanting parchment and a quill. Perhaps her rescuer would understand better if she wrote her reply, rather than speaking.

Seeing a desk littered with documents and other items she could not readily name, Gloriana set aside her tea and rose from the chair, shedding Kirkwood’s cloak and the coverlet like layers of skin, to cross the room.

She frowned, pondering the strange, gleaming devices that rested on the surface, memories hovering at the frayed edges of her awareness. Her host did not follow but simply turned, watching her with kindly interest.

She pantomimed dipping a quill into a pot of ink and writing.

Kirkwood smiled, though his eyes were yet thoughtful, and came at last to stand beside her.

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