Chloe stayed up late thinking through her options. She knew she couldn’t make it to Falconburg. If she knew how to care for a horse, she would have left money for Richard in his solar and taken the animal at first light.

Walking was the only option to get her back to the Rollright Stones. Assuming she could find them. She’d always taken for granted having navigation on her phone no matter where she was, but now? What if she went in a big circle?

“Damn it.” She stood on her toes and looked out the window. Why did it have to snow so much? Garrick had told her it was snowing much more this year than the last. Remembering her time in the hut, she threw the knapsack across the chamber and leaned against the bedpost, thinking.

The thought of the men she’d encountered made her swallow. There might be more like them. Or worse than them. It was almost twenty miles to the stones, a long distance to go alone in the dead of winter.

A single kick sent the stool a few feet across the stone floor. Nope, she couldn’t leave. She was stuck here until a message arrived from Falconburg. And who knew how long that would take? Garrick told her messages came when they came.

Tears threatened, but Chloe focused on being mad. She didn’t want to cry over a jerk like Richard. He didn’t want her here? Fine.

She’d soak up medieval England and entertain herself. When the message came, surely Melinda would send someone to bring Chloe to Falconburg. Family was family; it didn’t matter her great-aunt didn’t know her. Chloe would explain everything once they met. Then she’d ask Melinda how to go home and hope with all her might that the stones would send her back.

Over and over, she twisted her hair through her fingers, a habit left over from when she was little. The money she had could be used to pay one of the guardsmen to take her to the stones. On horseback, it would only take a couple of days.

Why had she traveled through time in the first place? Was it to meet Melinda? If so, she couldn’t go back yet. Chloe believed this was a one-time deal. She wouldn’t get another chance to travel to the past and meet Melinda Merriweather. And if she’d been sent back in time for Richard, to help him know he was more than his face, well, look how that had worked out.

That settled it. A trip to the stones was a no go. What was she going to do with herself in the meantime? It wasn’t like she had any useful skills. Chloe could cook a few basic things but was used to modern conveniences like the microwave. Fishing? No way; baiting a hook was icky. It was winter, so no gardening. She couldn’t knit, crochet, or embroider to save her life. Sewing? She could sew with a machine, but not by hand. Too bad reading wasn’t an occupation. The only thing she’d been any good at was organizing the staff to clean while she worked alongside them.

Bleary-eyed from tossing and turning, Chloe was grateful Merry had saved her a bowl of porridge. Once she’d checked on the kids to see how they were coming with the painting, she decided to take the whole day to mope over Richard. He’d made her believe he cared for her, but she knew the truth.

He thought she was a pain in the butt and was only tolerating her until he could send her away. Guess she was flirting practice for when he found a more mature woman. What a jerk.

“A good morrow to you.”

Richard stopped Chloe as she was making her way to the stables. Mayhap she hadn’t heard him?

“Are you feeling better? You were missed at supper these past nights.”

The blasted woman ignored him.

Garrick chuckled, and Richard scowled.

“Mistress Chloe. Have you come to your senses and decided you much prefer me to Richard?” Garrick said.

Richard would pay him back with his fists.

She stopped. “The stench of that man is more than I can bear.” Then she stomped away as Richard discreetly sniffed his person. He did not smell.

Garrick roared with laughter. “What did you do to vex her so?”

“I do not know. It has been three days and she will not speak to me.” Richard leaned against the wall, watching her as she stopped and talked to his people, a smile for all. All except him. “Women are shrewish creatures.” Richard did not want to tell Garrick he feared she had come to her senses and found him as repulsive as the villagers.

Richard cursed as he finished going over the accounts with his steward. How would he know what he had done if the blasted woman wouldn’t speak to him?

Garrick leaned against the wall by the hearth, one booted foot crossed over the other, looking happy. Richard wanted to plow his fist into the man’s face.

“Are you going to stand there all eve and smirk at me?”

“I know why Chloe is vexed.”

Richard pushed back from the desk. “Do you wish to tell me, or shall I ask the witch in the village?”

His friend snorted. “Not likely you would venture to the village to seek her out.” Then he ran his hands through his hair, and the look on his face made Richard sit in the chair, his stomach roiling.

“Tell me, man.”

“She heard.”

“Heard?” Richard was in no mood. “Spit it out, ye bloody whoreson.”

“Mistress Chloe heard you say you wished her gone.”

Richard glared, tapping his fingers on his knee. “Do not jest.”

“I would not. Mistress Chloe is a fine woman. You would be favored by the fates to have such a lady.”

“Think you I do not know?” Richard shook his head. “I never said such about her. She is the best of me.”

“Aye, you did,” Garrick said cheerfully. “In this very room. You said she is a distraction, a bothersome wench.” Garrick drained the cup of ale and smacked his lips. “You said you would be rid of her. Send her to Falconburg.” Then he frowned. “You are a dolt.”

“Bloody hell. I did not mean any of it.” Richard thought he would be ill. The eels he’d eaten at supper were swimming in his belly. When Garrick had jested, said Richard should marry Chloe, Richard could not imagine she would have him, so he pushed the thought away, not meaning for her to listen. Why was she listening at doors, anyway? Infuriating, lovely woman.

“You know when my eye pains me, I am—”

“An arse. A bloody witless dolt,” Garrick finished. Then he turned serious. “Before you were injured, you would not have seen her.”

“I would have.”

“Nay, Richard. Hers is a quiet beauty. You would not.”

Knowing Garrick was right, Richard snorted and pushed up from the chair. Had the fates caused him grievous harm so he would find Chloe? Nay, he was being daft.

“Where are you going?”

Richard clapped Garrick on the shoulder. “To beg for her forgiveness. Again.”