Forgotten Time (Ravenhurst Series, #1) A New Adult Time Travel Romance by Lorraine Beaumont
Authors: Lorraine Beaumont
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helpfully.
“I’m sorry, Milford, but I am not sure why you are here. I think I am somewhere that is not, um, right,” she tried to explain.
Milford lifted his hand. “I have some rather interesting things to tell you, a story from a long time ago. I do apologize for my part in this,” he stated sincerely.
Okay, so now he was freaking her out. She mentally prepared herself to hear whatever he needed to tell her.
Milford leaned back into the chair and cast his gaze into the fire. “As a young lad, I was picked to squire for the most esteemed knight in all the land–the Raven Knight. His name was Darias; otherwise known as the Destroyer. The raven was his coat of arms. Just like the raven, he was renowned throughout the land for his strategic maneuvering in battle. He could swoop in, waylaying his opposition efficiently, quickly, and disappear without a trace. He inspired many and was feared by all. He devoted himself to the king and the land he fought to protect.
“It was a rare privilege to squire under a knight such as Darias. I took my duty very seriously. He was my master, my mentor. He was everything a lad could ever hope to be or become. The man was tireless and though few knew, he was fair and just. He only wanted a simple existence, to live in harmony with the land about him. Everything was as it should be until that fateful day. That is the day everything changed….”
A flash hit Katherine with such force, she had to close her eyes from the pain. Milford’s voice faded further away while she held onto the chair arms, her knuckles turning white from the force she squeezed. Her heart pounded so loudly, she couldn’t hear his words any longer. It didn’t matter; she knew what happened.
Tears flowed from her eyes. Her heart hurt. The knight, his anguished cries, haunted her mind. It was horrible.
Milford shook his head sadly and stood up after he finished his tale.
Katherine looked at him, her vision blurred, from her own tears, as the knight’s cries finally faded from her mind. The crushing sadness lifted from her chest and her breathing returned to normal. She let out a sad, breathy sigh, unable to speak, and shook her head back and forth.
Milford leaned forward and gently squeezed her hand reassuringly. He turned and left the room quietly. He had no idea she did not hear the most important part of the story.
Ravenhurst, the next morning
Sebastian covered his eyes with his han d to block out the light. He was still abed, a sheet barely covering his naked body, his legs tangled in the folds. He did not sleep well. Hearing Marguerite’s confession with his own ears was more than he could take.
He laughed aloud. It was a hollow, bitter sound. He still couldn’t believe that she actually told him she thought the wastrel would return for her. It made Sebastian sick. Oh, he could envision quite clearly, what must have transpired between the two. Luckily for her, the knave returned her to a place where she might be cared for.
Many other women found themselves in similar circumstances, awash in promises of love and marriage until the wastrel took the prize. Marguerite was fortunate. Most ruined women ended up on the streets, selling their bodies for a living.
Angrily, he tossed the covers off and climbed from the bed. He wasn’t sure why he felt so angry. Did it truly matter? He looked out the window at the early morning sun. His mind was set; he did not intend to bed her, ever.
He closed his eyes against the sun, allowing the heat to warm his skin. An image flashed in his mind of Marguerite, revealing her beauty to him in much the same way, with the sun shining through her prim, little gown.
His body reacted, betraying him once again. He turned purposefully away from the window, fully intending to douse his ardor in an icy, cold bath. “Bloody hell!”
<>*LB*<>
The sound of birds squawking outside the windows woke Katherine from her slumber. Sunlight filtered
“I’m sorry, Milford, but I am not sure why you are here. I think I am somewhere that is not, um, right,” she tried to explain.
Milford lifted his hand. “I have some rather interesting things to tell you, a story from a long time ago. I do apologize for my part in this,” he stated sincerely.
Okay, so now he was freaking her out. She mentally prepared herself to hear whatever he needed to tell her.
Milford leaned back into the chair and cast his gaze into the fire. “As a young lad, I was picked to squire for the most esteemed knight in all the land–the Raven Knight. His name was Darias; otherwise known as the Destroyer. The raven was his coat of arms. Just like the raven, he was renowned throughout the land for his strategic maneuvering in battle. He could swoop in, waylaying his opposition efficiently, quickly, and disappear without a trace. He inspired many and was feared by all. He devoted himself to the king and the land he fought to protect.
“It was a rare privilege to squire under a knight such as Darias. I took my duty very seriously. He was my master, my mentor. He was everything a lad could ever hope to be or become. The man was tireless and though few knew, he was fair and just. He only wanted a simple existence, to live in harmony with the land about him. Everything was as it should be until that fateful day. That is the day everything changed….”
A flash hit Katherine with such force, she had to close her eyes from the pain. Milford’s voice faded further away while she held onto the chair arms, her knuckles turning white from the force she squeezed. Her heart pounded so loudly, she couldn’t hear his words any longer. It didn’t matter; she knew what happened.
Tears flowed from her eyes. Her heart hurt. The knight, his anguished cries, haunted her mind. It was horrible.
Milford shook his head sadly and stood up after he finished his tale.
Katherine looked at him, her vision blurred, from her own tears, as the knight’s cries finally faded from her mind. The crushing sadness lifted from her chest and her breathing returned to normal. She let out a sad, breathy sigh, unable to speak, and shook her head back and forth.
Milford leaned forward and gently squeezed her hand reassuringly. He turned and left the room quietly. He had no idea she did not hear the most important part of the story.
Ravenhurst, the next morning
Sebastian covered his eyes with his han d to block out the light. He was still abed, a sheet barely covering his naked body, his legs tangled in the folds. He did not sleep well. Hearing Marguerite’s confession with his own ears was more than he could take.
He laughed aloud. It was a hollow, bitter sound. He still couldn’t believe that she actually told him she thought the wastrel would return for her. It made Sebastian sick. Oh, he could envision quite clearly, what must have transpired between the two. Luckily for her, the knave returned her to a place where she might be cared for.
Many other women found themselves in similar circumstances, awash in promises of love and marriage until the wastrel took the prize. Marguerite was fortunate. Most ruined women ended up on the streets, selling their bodies for a living.
Angrily, he tossed the covers off and climbed from the bed. He wasn’t sure why he felt so angry. Did it truly matter? He looked out the window at the early morning sun. His mind was set; he did not intend to bed her, ever.
He closed his eyes against the sun, allowing the heat to warm his skin. An image flashed in his mind of Marguerite, revealing her beauty to him in much the same way, with the sun shining through her prim, little gown.
His body reacted, betraying him once again. He turned purposefully away from the window, fully intending to douse his ardor in an icy, cold bath. “Bloody hell!”
<>*LB*<>
The sound of birds squawking outside the windows woke Katherine from her slumber. Sunlight filtered
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