Chapter 10
Sophie clumsily stabbed at a tablecloth that needed mending. It was hard since she wasn’t used to sewing and her left arm still ached something awful. Sir Leo had barely glanced at it the day before, pronounced her well on her way to being good as new and then had ignored her since. She didn’t understand his sudden distant attitude toward her. It both hurt her feelings and her pride. She’d thought they’d had a moment, was positive he was attracted to her, but it must have been her imagination. She was looking for love so hard, her mind was playing tricks on her.
Sophie pricked her finger for the third time, drawing blood. She tossed aside the cloth, not wanting to ruin it, and let out a gusty sigh, only to draw the attention of her sewing companions.
“My goodness, what storm is brewing in you to let out that flurry of air?” Mrs. Merrick asked good-naturedly. She put aside her sewing to stretch her back.
“Just frustrated,” Sophie said, holding up her bleeding finger before sticking it in her mouth. “And my shoulder still hurts,” she added, as long as she was already complaining. And she couldn’t stop thinking about Sir Leo. She was scared he was going to go home now that he’d deemed her no longer in need of his medical attention, but she didn’t say that part out loud.
“Ah, I understand the pain bit,” Mrs. Merrick said. “I’ve been having the oddest pulling sensation these last few days. Since before Lord Drayton arrived.”
Sophie picked up her sewing again and continued more carefully. Lord Drayton had been a pleasant surprise. He was as handsome as any movie star and charming to boot. He’d been sitting at the family table and making them all laugh with witty and interesting stories. Even Fay, who was still deep in the dumps over Tristan not returning despite the news that the battles were finally ended and the enemy sent on their way, had snorted a few times against her will at his tales.
Sophie would have thought Lord Drayton would have distracted her from Sir Leo’s sudden distance. But while he’d been attentive to all of them, it was clear as the perfectly aquiline nose on his face that he wasn’t interested in her as a probable wife. Everyone’s bets were on Fay and she was still flatly refusing to have any part of it. She was coldly polite to him, with the emphasis on cold. Sophie’s pride had taken a tiny dent when she realized she wasn’t in the running. And she’d worried about the curse not getting satisfied if she didn’t find a man soon. But her thoughts always returned to Sir Leo. Ever since the day she’d blurted out the truth of her situation and had almost thrown herself at him, he was firmly lodged in her mind. Like a tick. It was going to take more than a handsome stranger showing up at the gates to pry Sir Leo out from under her skin.
“Argh!” She flung the cloth into the laundry basket and sucked on her finger. “I did it again.”
“Take a break, dear,” Mrs. Merrick said.
“Or fold these,” Batty told her unsympathetically, pushing a different basket full of linens over to her. “Mrs. Merrick, you shouldn’t be working so hard if you’ve been having strange pains. Has the midwife come to see you yet?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. And no, the midwife hasn’t made it up from the village, though I’ve sent word for her twice now. It might be Edgar who delivers this child.”
“Nonsense. We’ll make sure she gets here,” Fay said, not looking up from her own slow stitching. “You’ve got loads of time left, anyway.” Sophie stared at her until she looked up, realized what she’d said and quickly tried to cover. “Isn’t that so? You think it will be spring, right?”
“Too far away, even if it were to be tomorrow,” Mrs. Merrick moaned. “This wee fiend is beating me to death from the inside out.”
Sophie shivered, thinking about the miserable infant and mother mortality rates in this time. She’d learned that when the men in the castle employ got married, they usually moved away, either to the neighboring village or to their own bit of land. Mrs. Merrick had made it clear that she wished she could move back to the village, but Sir Walter wouldn’t let his stable master go, so she was stuck in the castle, worked to the bone and without a midwife nearby.
“Don’t say that,” Sophie begged. “Not even in jest.”
“She’ll be fine,” Fay said calmly. “The babies, too.”
“Babies?” Batty squealed. “Do you think it’s twins?”
Fay’s face went pale, then reddened to a beet hue. “Er, uh, Anne might have said she thought so because, er…”
“I’m as big as Grancourt itself, that’s probably why,” Mrs. Merrick said, not seeming offended. “Goodness, what would Mr. Merrick say to twins?” She crossed herself and shook her head.
Marjorie raced over and plopped herself down on the bench beside Sophie, almost sending Sophie to the ground. Marjorie grabbed her arm to keep her upright and quickly apologized before launching into a smug announcement.
“You won’t believe what I’ve just heard,” she said. Sophie had never seen her so excited about anything. Even Fay put her sewing down and looked up. Batty practically drooled with interest.
“Tell us at once,” Batty demanded when Marjorie continued to lord her news over them.
“Lord Drayton is going to ask Sir Walter for…” she trailed off and bit her lip, eyes about to pop out of her head from holding back the precious information.
Fay grunted irritably. “He can ask all he—”
“Anne,” Marjorie said, bouncing on the bench. “He’s going to ask for Anne’s hand in marriage.”
Silence descended for all of twelve seconds before mayhem broke out. Mrs. Merrick clapped her hands in delight. Batty kept repeating how she couldn’t believe it, rushing to pat Fay’s arm as if she needed consoling. Fay opened and shut her mouth like a landed fish, then stood up and said Anne would never agree to it.
“Why shouldn’t she?” Marjorie asked.
“Yes, why shouldn’t she?” Sophie asked, wondering if this might break the curse.
She’d have to reread what little information there was in the book, but maybe it didn’t have to be her or Fay. True love was true love, wasn’t it? Her confusion must have led Batty to think that she, too, must have been disappointed that she wasn’t the chosen one and the sweet girl patted her arm as well.
“It’s too far for one thing,” Fay said stubbornly. “Anne would never leave us.”
“It’s a good chance for her to have her own home,” Marjorie said. “And his home is rumored to be quite magnificent.”
“It could never be better than Grancourt,” Batty said loyally.
“Maybe not bigger,” Marjorie argued. “But better? Certainly. With all his money, I’ll bet it has every amenity. A fireplace in every room, even the servant’s quarters.”
“You only want her to accept because you think you’ll get to go,” Fay said. “But you have to think of her happiness.”
“It’s true I’d be happy to go somewhere new,” Marjorie said. “But never at the expense of Anne’s happiness.” She looked gravely offended and continued. “But why wouldn’t Anne be happy to be mistress of such a place and the wife of such a man?”
Marjorie made a good argument and Sophie was about to pipe in with her two cents when Anne herself joined them, paler than usual and visibly shaking.
Fay grabbed her hand and pulled her to the bench beside her. “What is it? Have you gotten bad news?” She glared at Marjorie, who rolled her eyes.
Anne let out an uncharacteristic giggle and twisted her hands in her lap. “Not bad news, no. But shocking news to be sure. You’ll never believe what Father’s just told me.”
Sophie looked back and forth amongst the others. None of them would admit what they’d just been gossiping about so she kept silent as well.
“Go on, Anne,” Fay urged, looking sick.
“Lord Drayton has asked Father for permission to marry me.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Fay said. “You know Father won’t make you.”
“I—I’ve said I will,” Anne said, taking Fay’s hand in one of hers and Sophie’s in the other. “My dear sisters, I’m going to be married.”
Sophie couldn’t help it. A tear rolled down her cheek at the obvious emotion on Anne’s kind, pretty face. At twenty-five, she probably thought she’d never get married. Certainly not to such a catch as Lord Drayton. Not three days before, she’d told Sophie to be on her best behavior, thinking he’d want her.
Marjorie hugged Anne and congratulated her, but Fay stood up and stamped the ground. Her face was streaked with tears, but they weren’t happy ones. Without saying a word, she took off toward the inner bailey. Batty half-stood to go after her.
“Let her have some time,” Anne said. “She thinks she’s losing me but, of course, it will be ages before I go. And I think she’s upset about Sir Tristan never returning. I do believe she had her heart set on him.”
That was an understatement. As much as Sophie wanted to make sure Fay was all right and finally find out why she was so hell-bent against Lord Drayton, she sat with the others as they celebrated the good news. Anne admitted it was sudden. But she’d had such pleasant conversations with Lord Drayton since he’d arrived and, of course, could find no fault with his appearance, that she wasn’t worried at all that it would be a bad match.
“And Father is extremely pleased,” she said proudly. “I’m sure he thought he was stuck with me.”
Marjorie looked pained and rushed to disagree. Mrs. Merrick started talking about wedding clothes, which got Batty excited. As they chattered on about everything that would need to be done to prepare, Sophie slipped away to find Fay.
*
“Okay, spill the beans,” Sophie said as she pushed open the heavy wooden door to their chamber.
Fay lay on the bed, face red and blotchy with tears. She turned away and pulled a pillow over her head. “Go away,” she moaned.
“Lordy, if this is what having sisters is like, I’ll take my annoying, bossy brother any day of the week.”
This made Fay sob harder for some reason. Dredging up all the patience she could, Sophie sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
“I’m sorry,” Fay said. “I didn’t know you had a brother. He must be so sad to lose you.”
“Don’t make me start crying, too,” Sophie said.
“What’s his name?” Fay asked.
“Stalling much?”
“That’s a weird name, even for you Southerners,” Fay said, making herself laugh through her tears.
“His name is, or will be, I suppose, since he won’t be born for hundreds of years, Jordan Jacob McCurdy.”
“You love your middle names, you Americans,” Fay said, rolling back over.
“Kids used to call him Jordan Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. That’s from a little song—”
“Yes, I know it. He must have loved that.”
“He got in a few fights over it, yeah. Okay, now. Tell me what’s so wrong with Lord Drayton before I really do start crying. I’ve been trying not to think about my family, you know?”
Fay nodded, sitting up. “I do know. It must be so much worse for you. I only had Uncle Randolph.”
“It’s not awesome,” Sophie said irritably. “Which is why I try not to think about it.”
“Okay, okay.” Fay made a face. “The last time, then. Before the curse reset, Lord Drayton wanted to marry me. I needed time to think about it, because I wasn’t sure about Tristan. Which seems so dumb now.” Her voice cracked. “If I had married him when he first wanted to, none of this would be happening.”
“Why didn’t you marry him?”
“I wasn’t sure it was true love. Stupid of me.”
“I don’t think it was stupid,” Sophie said. “The curse clearly states true love is what we have to prove exists. If it wasn’t true love and you married him anyway, the curse still wouldn’t have been broken.”
“Thanks for that,” Fay said. “But anyway, I really was being stupid. I should have said no straight away to Lord Drayton’s offer but I told Father I needed time to think. Then we got word from a neighbor—oh, it was Sir Leo’s mother, actually. Lady Alise. Mean old gossip. She heard that Lord Drayton and I were definitely engaged and sent her congratulations to Father. Well, he wasn’t very happy and I was devastated. Because things were so up in the air with Tristan and me, it nearly ruined everything.”
“Tristan heard about the fake engagement?”
“Yes. I almost lost him for good. Lord Drayton did it thinking Father would be forced to make me marry him to save face. But, of course, Father would never do such a thing. He actually let Lord Drayton have it when we next saw him at a tournament.”
“That’s all?” Sophie asked. It certainly didn’t show Lord Drayton in a glowing light, but he hadn’t actually hurt anyone in the long run. Sophie had been expecting nothing less than puppy kicking from the way Fay had been scowling at him the last three days.
“Isn’t that enough?” Fay spluttered. “First he wants me, now he wants Anne? He just wants to be aligned with Grancourt, that’s all.”
“Most marriages of this time were like that,” Sophie said gently. “I mean, are like that. And Anne seems happy enough. They get along. And you can’t judge him for picking on you last time, because he doesn’t even know that happened since the curse reset.”
“But it happened so fast,” Fay tried. “Three bloody days and he’s proposing.”
“Anne said he came here looking for a wife, which means Sir Walter probably knew as well. Why waste time?”
“Ugh, Sophie, stop being so impartial, will you? You should hate him as much as I do because he’s going to take Anne from us.”
“Ah ha! Here we go.” Sophie pumped her fist triumphantly. “The heart of the matter at last.”
“She’s sick,” Fay sniffled. “He won’t take care of her properly. His physician’s probably worse than Uncle Edgar. She’ll die so far away from home.”
At the same time those pathetic prophecies tugged at her heartstrings, Sophie got a selfish thrill. This was the exact chance she needed to get Sir Leo to pay attention to her again.
“We won’t let that happen,” she promised. “Sir Leo said he’d help find a cure for her. At least make some elixirs that will help clear the coughing. You saw how well he took care of my shoulder, and that pain medicine he whips up works as well as any Vicodin back in our time.” Fay looked slightly cheered and Sophie decided she was already in for a penny, may as well go for the pound. “And I told him about us. He wants to help with that, too, though I don’t know what he can do.”
Fay’s mouth formed a perfect oval and her eyes widened. “You told him what about us, exactly?” she asked slowly, making each word come out like a well-aimed bullet.
“It was your fault,” Sophie said, not sure why she was defending herself. “I was upset and stressed and you said no one would understand. So I blurted out a bunch of stuff about the curse.”
“And he understood?”
“I don’t get it either,” Sophie admitted. “But, yes.”
“It can only be because he loves you, you idiot,” Fay squealed with delight. “I’m sure that’s why Tristan understood me. Not a single other soul could. And believe me, I used to get in some pretty foul moods, so I was always spouting off in front of people.”
Sophie was already sitting but she felt like she needed more support. She crawled to the heavily-carved headboard and leaned against it, almost panting. Her heart beat as if she’d been running for her life. With Fay staring at her gleefully, she did feel a bit hunted.
“That can’t be right,” she said. Her cheeks started to burn and she buried her face in the crook of her good arm. Why hadn’t he kissed her? Why was he ignoring her now? Why was the fact that he might love her causing her to nearly go into cardiac arrest? “We know things are weird now because I’m here. We can’t count on the book or what happened to you the first time around if things are really messed up.”
“I don’t know,” Fay said, disappointed that her theory might be wrong. “It looks like the book was right about Batty and Brom not falling for each other this time. Stupid curse and its memory wipes.” She seemed even more disappointed about that. “They were so cute together that first time around.”
Sophie gasped. “Oh my gosh, I forgot to tell you. Batty had a dream about Brom. She said it was of them doing things together, having long talks, all that. I think she’s remembering.”
“Really? But that’s wonderful.”
“But why? Why is she remembering?”
Fay shrugged. “I’m supposed to be dead. That would mean a … hard reboot, I guess. A total blank slate. You still would have come but I wouldn’t be here to remember everything—which I only do because of how strong Tristan’s and my love is,” she added smugly. “But at any rate, you’d be muddling along not knowing things weren’t right. Or if I hadn’t fallen in love, which—”
“Yes, I get it. It’s a love for the ages,” Sophie interrupted impatiently, then sighed. “If you hadn’t fallen in love, your memory would be wiped as well and I wouldn’t be here. So, we basically have no idea if things are strange or not.”
“Things are definitely strange,” Fay said. “I don’t think the curse got to completely start over. We know it can’t erase true love. Batty and Brom were in love, but hadn’t admitted it yet or made it official so that’s why she partially remembers. And I feel one hundred percent confident there’s never been a third sister. And I also feel confident that the reason Sir Leo understood the truth is because he loves you.”
It made sense to Sophie up until the point when Fay blurted out that Leo must love her. She spluttered and patted at her heated cheeks. “I don’t know about that. You said he wasn’t right for me anyway. That I could do better.” Saying the words made her stomach turn over.
“I guess I was wrong,” Fay said simply. “Do you think you love him?”
Sophie’s tongue swelled up to ten times its normal size. Or felt like it. She moved her head in an odd, round half-nod. “I don’t know,” she choked out.
“It’s clear you fancy him,” Fay sing-songed as if they were in grade school. “Okay, I won’t tease you about it. But give it some serious thought. The fact he understood you when you told him about the curse means something. If you have to, seduce him and make him marry you out of obligation.”
“Are you crazy?” Sophie shrieked, appalled.
“I want this damned curse broken,” she said. “So maybe a little bit, yes.”
Fay patted her leg and left the room, but not before waggling her eyebrows suggestively at her. Sophie couldn’t bear to think of tricking Sir Leo into marrying her. The very thought of seducing him… well, that part didn’t sound so terrible. In fact, she liked the idea of it. She would never in a million years do it, but what could it hurt to think about it for a minute? He was so strong and tall, she was positive he must be rippling with muscles under his tunics. She had caught herself checking out his powerful thighs in his tight medieval hose more than once. And his shoulders were so broad. And his hands—dear God, his hands. They way they’d tenderly checked her injured shoulder, that time their fingers had intertwined as she’d told him about the curse. How their lips had almost touched, the feel of his breath mingling with hers. She shivered with pent up cravings.
Could it be that Sir Leo might actually love her? Be in love with her? Perhaps be having the same thoughts she was having? Only a few minutes had passed since she’d been outraged at Fay’s suggestion, but now she found herself giving it some serious thought.