Chapter 6
Sophie’s emotions went from joy at seeing her brother to confusion, then extreme confusion, and settled on punch-throwing rage. Leo had to grab her hands to stop her from beating the damned fool to death. As soon as Leo had his big hand around hers, she felt calm again. As calm as she could upon realizing her only sibling, her parents’ only surviving child was now trapped with her in the fourteenth century.
She pulled the big lump to a sitting position and hugged him. Leo instantly peeled her away, a look of consternation on his face. “My dearest, who is this?”
“My dearest?” squawked Jordan. “What is he talking about? Who is this guy, Soph?”
She looked back and forth between the two men she cared for more than anything and wanted to punch something again. “Oh my God, Jordan, what did you do? How did you do it? And why? For God’s sake, why?” Leo took one of her clenched fists and stroked it, still looking at her questioningly. She huffed. “This is my brother. My idiot brother.”
His eyes widened so much it stretched his scar, making it turn white. He turned a scowl on Jordan that she was pleased to see made him flinch. He should be flinching. If she hadn’t come with Leo, Jordan might be dead right now.
“Why did you attack me?” he asked.
Jordan sputtered. “Because you kidnapped my sister, you overgrown—”
“Chill out,” Sophie said, leaning over and clipping him across the head. “Why would you think that? You didn’t even see me until I saved you from getting your idiot face caved in.”
“I saw him with his big meat paws all over you at the castle yesterday. Last night. Whenever it was. I was so busy trying to get out of there without being seen, I didn’t notice the exact time.”
Sophie’s stomach dropped and she leaned back hard onto her butt in the hay. “You were at the castle? Oh no. No, that can’t be possible.” She flung herself forward and tried to hit him again but Leo grabbed her in a bear hug and held her close.
Jordan bristled at that and looked like he might make his own lunge, but Sophie kicked out with her foot. That kept him still for the moment at least.
“What is going on?” Leo demanded. “Your brother is here, Sophie. You can’t beat him back to his proper time. Let him explain himself.” He turned to Jordan. “You were at the castle yesterday? That must have been when we first arrived back, dearest. That was when he saw me with my meat paws all over you.” She was surprised to see his lip quirk, but the amusement in his eyes faded quickly enough. “Oh no. No, it can’t be.”
“It was him who came back,” Sophie said, gripping handfuls of hay in her frustration. “The curse isn’t broken at all. And it was such a good theory, too.” She’d explained Fay’s theory while they rode to the house and it had lifted both their spirits considerably. Her spirits were about as low as they could get right now. “You found the dress, didn’t you?” she demanded.
Jordan blushed crimson. “That bonkers old man who works for the preservation society came to your funeral and gave me the idea,” he said in a rush.
“Randolph? Fay’s uncle? Gah, that book Fay wrote.” She wanted to curse Fay, but realized she, Sophie, had droned on and on about it, filling Randolph’s head with the hope his niece was still alive. It was both their faults. No, it was one hundred percent the curse.
“It all turned out to be true. You really are still alive.” He swallowed hard and reached for her.
Sophie swallowed her own lump and let him take her hand. “Alive here, yes. But still dead in our time. And now you are, too. Don’t you get it? Didn’t you think about Mom and Dad for one minute?”
Jordan shook his head eagerly, his dark blond hair flopping across his forehead and into his blue eyes. “No. I mean, maybe. But I have a way back. Or I think I do.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “If only Lyra was more dependable. But she promised.”
“Who is this Lyra?” Leo asked when Sophie could only stare at him.
“She’s a real witch,” he said.
“Jordan, what would Mom say?” Sophie found her voice.
“No, an actual—you know, cauldrons, eyes of newts—witch. I found her at a palm reading place about an hour from here. In our time, of course.”
“Oh, of course,” Sophie said, rolling her eyes.
“I’m telling you, she’s real. She can time travel. And disguise herself with, with … glamor, that’s what she called it. She showed me. In real life, or at least I guess, she’s kind of around Mom’s age with reddish hair and she’s sort of plump. Like Uncle Billy’s girlfriend.” Sophie nodded, waving her hand for him to get on with it. “But one time, in her palm reading studio, she was this tall, skinny, old man. Bald head, saggy pants, smelled like cigars. Another time she was a tiny, white-haired lady. And when she met me last night, she looked like a model. Thin and pale, with long blonde hair and just, well, I thought she was kind of hot, actually.”
“This witch, Lyra, met with you last night?” Leo asked, brow knitted. “She came from your time? How is that possible without the cursed gown?”
“Crap, the gown,” Sophie interrupted. “Where is it? Or did you get here by your new friend’s magical spell?”
He blushed again, deep crimson. “No, I got here by putting on the dress.”
Sophie wished she could find it funny, but even picturing her big brother in a medieval gown didn’t lift her mood. The curse wasn’t broken. Someone else had come through. Her damned fool brother. “Then you’re part of the curse now,” she said disgustedly. “Congrats. That means you’re my brother in both times.”
He shook his head some more. “No. That’s why I got out of the castle. I knew I’d need to be unrelated to you Grancourts in order to be able to save you. I brought a bunch of things to sell so I could fake myself an identity.”
Her head spun at the avalanche of things he’d just said. Leo patted her hand and took over. “How do you know about the curse making you part of the Grancourt family?”
“Yes, that,” Sophie piped in. “You couldn’t have known any of that until you read the book. Did you see the book when you landed?”
Jordan scowled. “I saw it. And the scroll with the actual curse on it, too. But what I’ve been trying to tell you is I knew about it because of Lyra. She traveled back and figured it all out. We were here yesterday, in our time, and she did her thing and saw you. She told me you were definitely here so I hauled butt back to the castle and that’s when we found the dress.”
“Were we here yesterday?” Leo asked.
Sophie groaned. Leo had no recollection of the strange happenings at his house before the curse reset. There was too much for her to keep up with and she felt little pinging pains in her head. Her brain was obviously begging her to take a nap.
“Yes, before we came to the castle, but don’t worry about that now. I’ll try to explain it to you later, okay, sweetheart?” She caught Jordan scowling at the endearment but didn’t care. A shiver went up her spine, thinking about the creepy, wispy-haired person who’d spoken to her in the attic. Told her … “You’re the one who was waiting for me,” she said, slapping her forehead. It didn’t help the pinging pains. “Was that Lyra who told me I better hurry, he’s waiting for you?” she asked. She turned quickly to Leo. “I’ll explain it all later, I promise.”
Jordan shrugged. “I don’t know what she told you but, yeah, I’m positive it must have been her. She said she had a heck of a time finding you. This place is half a pile of rocks in our time, but it only went to pot within the last few decades. People used to live here up until the late eighties. The nineteen eighties, sorry. So she ended up in a bunch of different times because of energy interference or something.”
That must have been why the house was so strange. Half-abandoned, half-lived in, half from the future and half from this time. “That wasn’t fun at all, meeting your witch,” Sophie said, rubbing the goosebumps from her arms. “I didn’t appreciate being sucked into her spell one bit.”
“But she had to find you and make sure. I didn’t want to come here unless I knew for sure. She dragged me all over the countryside looking for you, so you should be grateful.”
Sophie spluttered and made to hit him again. Leo pulled her back into a hug. “Grateful for what? That you restarted the curse?”
“Now, Sophie, dear, that wasn’t his fault. That was the person who put the gown back.”
“Or thing,” she said out of habit. Then gasped, thinking of Tristan’s keep. “Did the witch take you up north? About a half-day’s ride on horseback?” She hissed, not knowing how far it was in modern journeying time.
“Her name’s Lyra. We went all over the county,” he said, squinting at the roof beams. “I guess it would have been at least that on a horse. She kept going out into empty fields, and thought she might have been close once, but she wasn’t sure until we came here. This house. Yesterday.”
It must have been whatever strange spell Lyra cast to send herself back in time that had made them think the keep had disappeared. Maybe they’d all been dragged into whatever it was she did and they themselves had been transported to a time when the keep was already destroyed. She knew there was no keep or even a ruin still there in her time. She rubbed her temples and groaned.
“You screwed up so bad,” she said, not looking at Jordan. “So, so bad.”
“She can get us back, she promised,” Jordan said.
Leo hugged her tighter, sensing another punching fit coming on. She leaned back against him, not knowing what to do. If she thought about it too hard, she would start crying and never stop. Her poor parents! She already felt guilty enough putting on that stupid dress and leaving them to think she was dead. The one thing that had comforted her was that they still had Jordan, who’d always been their favorite anyway. She stared at him now, heartbroken and angry. She might have believed in that witch’s capabilities to throw her consciousness or whatever to another time. She’d spoken to something in the attic. But get them back to her own time? She didn’t believe that at all. And with Leo’s strong arms around her, she no longer had any interest in trying.
“The main question now,” Leo said calmly, “is what are we going to do with him?”
Jordan looked like he might argue, but slid backwards until he could lean listlessly against one of the stalls. “I could still get a fake identity,” he said. “Even though you don’t need rescuing anymore.”
She snorted at that. It was sweet, though. A very big brotherly thing to do. “Yes, you’re still going to need some sort of identity. Because you have to fall in love with someone as quickly as possible to break the curse. It reset on me after only two months, so who knows how hell-bent it is on crushing us this time.”
“We don’t need to worry about the curse,” Jordan argued. “Not if we find Lyra. She’ll—”
“If you keep saying we can get back I’m going to kill you for real, Jordan,” she snapped.
Apparently living in the Middle Ages had given her a violent streak, or else her brother was just annoying her that much. She threw her hands in the air. It wasn’t annoyance. It was despair. She’d only recently gotten used to the idea of building a life here. She had let go of her other life and thought she was fine. But thinking about how bereft her parents must be to have lost both their children changed everything. If they could get back …
“There’s no getting back,” she said harshly. “There’s only breaking the curse and trying to live happily ever after.”
He flinched but didn’t argue further. She wondered how long a reprieve she’d get before he started in again.
“We can say you’re one of my old squires,” Leo said, looking pleased with himself. “As your new identity. Can you do anything?”
“He can’t,” Sophie said meanly. “He’ll have to have some sort of fake injury, too, or else Father will want him to practice with everyone else. It’ll be a bloodbath.”
“I can fight—” Jordan started to argue, then stopped. “What did you just say? Father? Father who?”
Sophie stood up and held out her hand to help her brother up. “No, you can’t fight. Not like they do here, anyway. And Father … it’s hard to explain but the curse made me part of the Grancourt family.”
“Yes, I know that, but not really. Just so you can fit in.”
“Yes, but my feelings for them are real. Sir Walter is really my father now. Fay and Anne are my sisters. Just go with it, okay?”
He shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”
Leo brushed the hay off his tunic cloak and circled Jordan, looking skeptical. “Perhaps we should say he’s a chancellor instead of a squire.”
“I can fight!” Jordan yelled. Leo smirked and raised a brow.
“Listen to him,” Sophie said. “You need to keep your head down and your mouth shut or you’ll get pummeled.” She pointed to Leo’s scar. “You think that’s from a dainty little fist fight? There’s no shame in being a chancellor. It’s highly respectable.”
“Can you sing or dance?” Leo asked, clearly having fun now. “Perhaps a traveling jester.”
Sophie couldn’t help one tiny giggle escaping. “He can’t dance or carry a tune,” she said, clapping him on the back apologetically. “Just be a chancellor. It’s like a secretary.”
“I’m not being his secretary,” Jordan grumbled.
“Then you can be the former chancellor of my old lord, currently looking for work.”
“There you go, Jordan. You’re unemployed. That’s something that won’t be too big of a stretch for you.”
He looked like he might put up more of an argument, but Leo put his arm firmly around his shoulders and steered him toward the door. “Let’s get you some appropriate clothing, Chancellor. Then we can get back to the castle so I can marry your sister.”
“What?” Jordan howled, struggling to get out from under Leo’s steel grip.
“Shut up, Jordan,” Sophie sighed. “Just shut up and do what we say from now on.”
*
As Jordan and Leo had squabbled over what he should wear, Sophie sat behind a screen and filled him in on everything he needed to know to survive. She didn’t have a clue who he might fall in love with. The castle was sorely lacking in women. She’d have to plant the seed with Anne to have some sort of gathering.
Of course! Her wedding. She’d meant to have a family only affair so she wouldn’t have to wait much longer, but now she’d say she wanted everyone the Grancourts had ever known to be there. She’d get Lady Alise to invite everyone she knew as well. That should throw some options into the mix. Whatever Jordan kept spouting about Lyra, and he kept spouting about it, she knew the only way to survive another curse cycle was to get her brother to fall in love with someone as soon as possible.
She shuddered to think how Fay was going to take this new development, having been so sure the curse was broken. At least Fay got to leave soon.
“Okay, you can come out now,” the source of her agony called.
She had to admit he looked quite dashing in some of Leo’s clothes. And he’d never had any problems getting a girlfriend back in their time. Hopefully, his charm would translate well in 1398.
“They’re a little big, but they’ll do until we can get some made for you.” She stuck out her tongue. “Blech, I suppose I could make some for you.”
The trip back to the castle was mostly silent. Sophie was lost in worry that her brother wouldn’t fit in and would get killed by saying some smart-assed thing to the wrong person. Every time Jordan tried to say something, Leo cut him off, thankfully sensing that Sophie didn’t want to deal with it. Leo, bless him, went along with it as easily as he’d accepted hearing that she’d been brought to that time by a curse. How she loved him. And thanks to Jordan, she’d have to put off her wedding. She was in a foul mood by the time they got back to the castle, which was overridden by sinking fear as they rode through the gates.
“He’ll be fine,” Leo said, helping her dismount.
Jordan got off his own horse smoothly enough and she brightened. Perhaps, Leo was right. The curse had made everyone think she belonged, maybe it would do them a favor and pull the wool over the castle inhabitants’ eyes as well. She saw Batty and Marjorie hurrying toward them and crossed her fingers. The moment of truth was at hand.
“Lady Sophie,” Batty said, tossing a curtsy to both Leo and her brother. She looked at Jordan curiously, then turned to Leo. So far so good. “Was everything all right at your home, Sir Leo?”
Leo nodded, allowing a stable boy to take the horses’ reins. “Yes. It was only an old friend, the former chancellor of Lord Benetto, who I used to serve. Allow me to present to you Lord Jordan of Louis—Louisiana.”
Sophie watched Batty and Marjorie while Leo delivered his stilted, too-loud introduction. He’d never win an Academy Award, that was certain. But neither of the maids batted an eye, and barely glanced at “Lord Jordan of Louisiana”. Neither of them looked overly impressed with the new guest, probably wishing it had been a miscreant trespasser so they could watch a good flogging.
“Er, Lord Jordan,” Sophie said bitterly. When had they agreed he’d be a lord? “Allow me to introduce Batty and Marjorie to you.”
Batty and Marjorie both nodded hello, seeming even less impressed when Jordan could only gape at them and make an unintelligible stuttering sound. The maids trotted away to more interesting occupations like scrubbing a floor or folding a pile of linens. Sophie sighed. Both Leo and her brother were going to have to try harder if they were going to get through this. She turned to Jordan to admonish him, and found him pointing helplessly at the girls as they walked away. His mouth opened and closed and his eyes looked about to pop out of his head.
“Jordan, are you okay?” she asked, fearing he’d had a stroke or that he might be choking. Had they finally gone too far and the curse was going to drop them one after another? “Take a deep breath.”
“That—that girl. You called her Marjorie,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “Because her name is Marjorie. She’s Anne’s maid and some kind of distant cousin but I still haven’t figured out which side she’s from.”
He shook his head, making his way-too-modern hair flop wildly. “No,” he said. “Not Marjorie. That was Lyra.”