CHRISTOPHER REACHED HER a few minutes later and knelt down in the snow beside her as he handed her his handkerchief.
“Ta,” she whispered and then blew her nose.
“Miss Nelson, you’re safe here. No one will harm you.”
“The problem is that I don’t know where ‘here’ is. I was in Chicago looking at a painting of you and that’s all I remember. How is it possible that I got to Maryland this quickly, and how is it that you’re all dressed in such odd clothing?”
He sat back on his heels and laid his hands on his thighs. “Odd clothing?”
“Yes! You’re dressed like someone out of a Dickens novel.”
Christopher chuckled quietly. “Ladies don’t generally dress as men, so perhaps it’s more accurate to say you are dressed oddly.”
“I’m not dressed as a man!” Hannah insisted. “These are the very latest in Lucky jeans.”
“Obviously not so lucky, since you ended up in my barn with a head injury.”
“Oh, you’re a comedian, I see,” she retorted. “And I don’t have a head injury.”
Christopher stood and held his hand out to her. “Miss Nelson, come back to the house, please. There is nothing that you can do in the middle of a winter night. I will assist you in the morning, I promise.”
“Call me Hannah.”
“Hannah,” he said, and smiled. “Will you come with me now?”
“Fine.” She stood and brushed her hands over her bottom. “Bloody hell!”
“What’s amiss?”
Hannah shivered, the cold sinking into her jeans, and let out a quiet groan. “My bum’s all wet.”
He took her hand and placed it in his arm. “I’m sorry?”
“I sat in the snow, and now my bottom’s wet.” His body stiffened, and she glanced up at him in confusion. He smiled, so she dismissed his reaction. “How did you know I would try to climb off the roof?”
“It’s my job to think ahead of my opponent,” he said evasively.
Her head whipped up. “I’m your opponent now?”
“Perhaps not.” Chuckling, he faced her. “Nevertheless, you’re not someone to be underestimated. Is that an accurate assessment?”
“Hmm... so, the whole ‘damsel in distress’ bit wouldn’t fly?”
He began to lead her toward the house. “I highly doubt anyone would look at you as a damsel in distress, despite your size.”
“My size?”
Christopher smiled. “You’re tiny.”
“I’m not that tiny!” She stood as tall as she could without going up on her toes. “Perhaps you view me that way because you’re a giant.”
“A giant, you say?”
“Yes, a ferocious one who preys on the tiny.” She made a clawing motion with her hands and he laughed.
“I would rather be seen as the giant who saves the tiny.”
She giggled. “Am I to be saved then?”
He stopped and turned her toward him. Laying his hands gently on her shoulders, he stared down at her. She could see the earnestness in his gaze. “If you are ever in trouble, I will save you.”
A shiver of awareness sidled up her spine, and it made her nervous. Not of him, necessarily, but of the attraction to him. Butterflies began to host a party in her stomach—no, not butterflies--elephants.
Great! Elephants are dancing on my intestines.
She pulled away and went for a sarcastic tone. “You’ll be my knight in shining armor? Truly?”
“You doubt my sincerity?” he asked in mock surprise.
She placed her palm on her chest. “Absolutely not. Of course, if you’re going to rescue me from foibles, real or make-believe, perhaps you should have a superhero name.”
He raised an eyebrow. “A new name?”
“Yes. One that will accurately describe your new role.”
“Hm.” He gave a slight nod. “I wasn’t aware I would receive a new name and a new role.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She tapped her pursed lips with her finger and then grinned. “Why don’t I call you Sir Knight?”
He rubbed his chin in consideration. “Sir Knight.”
“As in the Round Table,” she clarified.
“It’s a little redundant, wouldn’t you say?”
“Ironic,” she clarified.
Christopher glanced at her. “That does have a nice ring to it. However, I wonder why not ‘King?’”
“Because kings are generally lazy and make their knights do all the rescuing.”
Nodding, apparently impressed with her observation, he smiled. A smile that melted Hannah’s soul. “Ah, you do have a point. So, if I am Sir Knight, are you my Guinevere?”
“No.”
“And why not?”
Hannah blushed. “Because she was already taken and wholly unavailable.”
He stared down at her, his eyes darker than before, and raised his hand to her cheek.
Good God, elephants, please stop!
He gently stroked his fingers down her face, and Hannah thought he might kiss her. Instead, he lowered his hand and clenched his fist at his side. “You’re freezing. Let’s get you inside.”
She was grateful he couldn’t see her blush in the darkness. Although she didn’t want the moment to end, the cold seeped in to prove his statement true. As he laid his hand over hers settled in the crook of his arm, she tried to work out her confusion. She had a difficult time reconciling his gentleness with his possible nefarious intentions.
Is he lulling me into a false sense of safety? Should I trust him?
He escorted her into the house, this time through the front door, and as they passed the parlor, she noticed a newspaper sitting on a side table in the large foyer. The date on the top read November 18, 1863.
Irritation warmed any frostbite threatening her body.
“Okay, seriously, Christopher. I can appreciate the lengths you all seem to be going through to keep up with this ‘living in better days gone by’ thing, but don’t you think this might be a little heavy handed?”
“Pardon?”
She continued as though he hadn’t spoken, “Granted, I think it’s kind of creepy and twisted, but I have to applaud your level of detail, I suppose.”
Christopher removed his gloves and laid them next to the newspaper. “Hannah, what are you talking about?”
She slapped her hand on top of the paper. “Look, mate, leaving old newspapers lying around is a little over the top, don’t you think?”
Christopher raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t call it old. It’s certainly not out-of-date.”
She pointed to the header with a snort. “Not out-of-date?”
Christopher nodded. “Today is the twentieth, and that paper is from the eighteenth. I may have the one from today as well.” He puckered his brow in thought. “I believe it’s in my father’s office.”
Picking the newspaper up, she waved it at him. “Christopher, this paper is from 1863.”
“Yes.”
She slapped it back down. “Funny, ha, ha.”
Christopher stood in the middle of the foyer, staring at her as though she were slightly unstable. Hannah shook her head as bile rose in the back of her throat.
I’m trapped. Is he going to kill me? Brainwash me? Make me stay here?
The breath left her body. Literally. She couldn’t breathe.
He moved closer to her. “Hannah, are you all right?”
Her lungs seized as she began to hyperventilate. “I have to get out of here.”
Touching her shoulder gently, Christopher asked, “Why? What’s amiss?”
“I need to get out of here.” She bolted out the front door.
“Hannah!” he yelled and went after her.
Hannah made it all the way to the barn before she doubled over and vomited. Christopher caught up to her and laid his hand gently on her back. “Hannah?”
Things started to register with her then. His strange speech, the strange clothes. She must be in a dream or a nightmare. None of this could be real.
“What’s the date?” she whispered.
“November 20,” he answered slowly.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “And the year?”
He stared at her.
“The year, Christopher? What year do you think it is?” She was screaming now.
“1863.”
“No, no, no! That can’t be right. I must be crazy. You must be crazy. I’ve fully lost the plot. I must have. Not possible.” She ran her hands though her hair as she kept ranting.
“Hannah?”
“This is all a joke, right?” She grabbed his arm. “Tell me this is all a joke. Please, Sir Knight. I need you to save me now and tell me you’re not some psychopath intent on holding me here against my will!”
* * *
Up to this point, Christopher would not have labeled her insane; however, she wasn’t making any sense. Now convinced that she must have hit her head quite hard, he whispered, “Hannah, it’s all right. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”
Hannah shook her head. “No. I have to get out of here. I can’t be here. It’s not right. Something’s not right.” He stopped her before she could take off again, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she sobbed. “What am I doing here? This isn’t right. I’m crazy. I must be crazy.”
“Shhh, it’s all right. I’ll help you. I promised, remember?” He felt her body relax, and as soon as he heard the tell-tale sound of hiccups, he handed her another handkerchief. “Hannah?”
Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him as she pulled out of his arms. “I’m all right now, Christopher. Thank you. I think I should just go to bed now. Thank you for your hanky.”
He tried to smile as gently as possible. “Hannah?”
“Yes?”
“Everything is going to be all right.”
She wrung her hands. “Yes, Christopher, I know that now.”
“Shall I take you back to your room? I think all you need is a good night’s sleep.”
Hannah nodded. “Yes. All right. A good night’s sleep sounds lovely.”
Christopher led her back into the house and up to her room. He woke Gwen and asked her to sit with Hannah.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Hannah hissed.
“I know that, Hannah.” He tried to keep his tone gentle; however, he also wouldn’t broach an argument. “I simply thought Gwen could help you change.”
Hannah glared at him. “Riiight.”
She reluctantly followed Gwen back into her room and the girls stood in silence as Christopher stoked the fire before leaving them.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” Gwen asked.
Hannah’s eyes swept the room. “Where’s the loo?”
“Who is Lou?”
“Um, I mean restroom. Where’s the restroom?”
Gwen’s eyebrows puckered. “I’m sorry?”
“I have to...”
“Oh!” Gwen knelt and reached under the bed. Pulling out an ornate bowl, she handed it to Hannah. “Here you go.”
“Um, no,” Hannah said, a little harsher than she intended.
Gwen frowned. “It’s the only chamber pot in here. If it’s not acceptable, I’ll be happy to find you another.”
“You must be joking.”
“Joking?”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, you’re serious!”
“I wouldn’t jest with you, Hannah,” Gwen said quite earnestly.
“I’m in hell,” Hannah whispered to the wall.
“Hannah?”
“Right, sorry. Um, I’ll just use that when I’m by myself, if that’s all right with you.”
“Of course. Is there anything I can help you with at present?”
Hannah shook her head. “No, thank you, Gwen. You’ve been extremely kind. I think I’ll just get changed and go to bed.”
Gwen smiled and opened the door to leave. “All right. Please let me know if you need anything.”
Hannah nodded. “I will. Thank you again.”
Once Gwen left the room, Hannah listened for her footsteps in the hallway and the closing of her door. She waited another few seconds just in case Gwen might return and then opened her window again and threw her leg over the sill.
“Hannah, go back inside,” she heard Christopher say.
“What the—?” She bumped her head on the top of the window frame. “Ow!”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said exasperated. “You really don’t need to babysit me!”
She heard him chuckle as she pulled her leg back inside and leaned out the window. He stood at the top of the trellis, obviously waiting for her to try her escape again. “What are you doing?”
He leaned against the roof, his elbows resting on the edge. “I’m protecting you.”
“How is that protecting me? You’re acting like a freaking prison guard!”
“I’ll wait here all night if I have to,” he warned. “You need to go climb into bed. You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
“Bossy much?” Closing the window with a frustrated huff, Hannah started to pace. Highly doubting he would actually stay out there all night, she figured she just had to bide her time and he would eventually give up. She waited an hour and then slowly opened her window.
“Hannah,” he growled.
“Damn it! You’re a persistent devil, aren’t you?” He chuckled quietly as she stuck her head out the window and glared at him. “Go to bed, Sir Knight. I won’t try again. I don’t want you to freeze because of me.”
“How kind of you.” His sarcasm was evident.
She gave up. She would let him win this round. Undressing, she put on the soft nightgown Gwen had left for her and climbed into the warm bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
* * *
Christopher waited thirty minutes before he climbed up onto the roof, snuck over to Hannah’s window, and looked inside. Seeing the pile of her discarded clothes on the floor, he looked at her form on the bed, relieved that she appeared to be asleep.
He figured tonight would be long and sleepless, but at least it would now be long and sleepless in his own warm bed. Climbing down from the roof, he made his way back into the house and upstairs to his room. Unable to stifle a yawn, his exhaustion overtook his body. He had no idea what this strange and intoxicating woman would put him through tomorrow, but he looked forward to the challenge.
* * *
Hannah woke the next morning feeling rather warm. She opened her eyes and noticed that her fire glowed orange and red. She pushed the covers off and stretched. Someone had apparently added a log and stoked it during the night.
“Good morning.”
Squealing, Hannah pulled her comforter closer to her neck as she sat up. She took a second to look over at him, and once again her stomach did a flip. Christopher sat, having folded his large body in the chair next to her window, one long leg over the other, and he observed her intently.
“What are you doing in my room?”
Christopher smiled slightly. “Breaking every rule of etiquette.”
“Apparently.” Hannah raised an eyebrow. “So, why are you here?”
He leaned forward and smiled. “I wanted to make certain you were all right.”
“I’m still here.” Hannah let out a frustrated sigh. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost eight o’clock.”
“In the morning?” she squeaked.
Christopher chuckled. “Are you not an early riser, Hannah?”
“Ugh,” she grunted as she peered over the side of her bed. “Where are my clothes?”
“They have been disposed of.”
She sat up quickly, forgetting her state of undress. “What do you mean, ‘disposed of’?”
“They weren’t suitable for a lady.”
Her skin heated as his gaze lingered on her altogether too-sheer nightgown. She pulled her covers back up at his perusal. “What do you mean by that, exactly?”
“I meant exactly what I said.” Christopher stood. “They were unsuitable.”
Hannah glared at him. “Look you... you... argh, I don’t know what you are, but just because you want to live in some fantasy life of top hats and hoop skirts does not mean that I should be made to do the same. Those were brand new jeans! Get them back.”
“Gwen will be in shortly with the appropriate form of dress.” He smiled down at her, his green eyes mocking. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Christopher?” Her voice dripped with saccharin.
“Yes, Hannah?”
“I would highly suggest you get me those jeans. They were a gift from my friend and I want them back. Do you understand?”
“I’ll see you at breakfast.” He left her room and closed the door.
“Dick!” She threw her pillow at the door.
Gwen came into her room several minutes later, her arms full of clothing. “Good morning, Hannah. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, but my clothes are missing,” she grumbled as she climbed out of bed.
Gwen lifted a large amount of fabric toward her. “I have one of my day dresses for you.”
Hannah shook her head. “No. I mean the clothes I was wearing yesterday are missing. Would you know where they might be?”
“Christopher said they were disposed of, which is why I have some of mine for you.”
Hannah grimaced. “I want my clothes back. Can you help me?”
“They’ve probably already been destroyed, I’m afraid.” Gwen laid the dress and other articles of clothing on the bed. “However, these should work just fine. Would you like some assistance?”
“More than likely.” Gwen handed her what looked like bloomers. “You’re kidding, right?” Hannah turned the underwear front to back, and vice versa. On top of all of that, they were crotchless, which added insult to injury.
“You’re funny, Hannah.” Gwen giggled. “Put those on first, and then I’ll give you the chemise. I also have a corset for you, which I think will fit. We’re about the same size around.”
Hannah felt the color drain from her face. “Corset?” she squeaked. “You have a corset for me?”
“Yes, corset.” Gwen frowned. “Are you all right?”
Hannah merely nodded, because she realized quickly that if she spoke out loud she might scream. She put the underwear on and then Gwen assisted her with the corset.
I really am in hell.
Gwen handed her round wire hoops, which she stepped into. Once they were secure, the dark green skirt went over her head and then the blouse.
“How do you breathe in this?” Hannah gasped.
“Did I tighten it too much?” Gwen asked in concern. “I can loosen it if you need me to.”
“No, it’s fine,” Hannah grumbled.
I just want this nightmare to be over.
As the girls entered the dining room, Christopher stood and waited for them to take their seats before sitting again. Hannah tried to stomp down her irritation with her attraction to the man, but her mischievous elephants seemed to have awakened a few hours before she did. She took her seat and tried to focus on her plate rather than him.
“Would you like some coffee?” Gwen asked.
“Actually, is there any tea?”
“Yes. I’ll get you some.” Gwen stood again and left the room.
“May I prepare you a plate, Hannah?”
Hannah glanced up at Christopher and forced a smile. “Yes, please.”
“Anything in particular?”
Listen, here, elephants from Hades, you need to back off. Just because his smile makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, and his mouth makes me want to be kissed, does not give you the right to trample my insides!
“Hannah?”
“No, nothing in particular.” She waved her hand toward the buffet. “Whatever you choose.”
Christopher nodded and turned his back to her.
That is one tight bum.
“Hannah?”
Hannah blinked, not realizing her thoughts had wandered, and accepted the plate from him. She took a bite and then picked at her food.
“You should eat,” Christopher said.
“I’m not particularly hungry.”
“Eat, Hannah.”
She glared at him. “Find my jeans, Christopher.”
He smiled at her in response. Gwen returned with the tea and set the cup in front of Hannah.
“Thanks, Gwen.”
Gwen smiled as she took her seat and then turned to her brother. “What are your plans today, Chris? Are you going back to D.C.?”
He shook his head. “I won’t return until tomorrow.”
“Mama will be so glad.”
Christopher nodded and glanced back at Hannah. “Would you like a tour of Catonsville?”
She raised an eyebrow at him above the rim of her teacup. “I’d like to go home.”
Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he shrugged. “There really isn’t anything that can be achieved today, so why don’t you go for a ride with me?”
“You told me you’d help me get home,” she accused.
“I have sent out a few missives, Hannah.” He picked up his fork. “Until I get responses, there is nothing to be done.”
Hannah sat silently for several minutes, unsure what to do.
Christopher lowered his fork. “Hannah? Would you like a tour?”
“Would you give me a second to think, please?” she snapped. “You’re like an old woman!”
Gwen giggled, which earned her a glare from her brother.
The thought of being stuck in the Twilight Zone for any longer didn’t sit well with Hannah, but perhaps if she got outside the house, she’d be able to find a way home.
“Yes, I’ll go for a ride,” Hannah answered a few minutes later.
“Excellent. Gwen will get you one of her cloaks and we’ll head out.”
“Wouldn’t Gwen like to join us?”
Gwen looked at her brother and then back at Hannah. Hannah thought she looked as though she were trying not to laugh. Christopher scowled at his sister. Gwen cleared her throat. “No, thank you, Hannah. I’m spending the day with my friend, Charity. I’ll retrieve some outerwear for you.” Gwen stood and left the room.
Christopher stood also and held his hand out to Hannah. “Shall we?”
She nodded and followed him. Gwen joined them in the foyer and handed Hannah a heavy cloak, gloves, scarf, and hat.
“Are you ready?” Christopher asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
He led her down the hall and out the back door.