Love Came Just in Time by Lynn Kurland Page A

century?
    Abby came to from her contemplation of Miles’s floor to find the priest looking at her, waiting for her to give some sort of answer in the affirmative to the question of whether or not she wanted Miles and medieval England for the rest of her life.
    She looked up at Miles. “Shouldn’t your parents be here?”
    Miles shrugged. “They’ll learn of it soon enough.”
    Abby looked at the abbot, who seemed to be warning her with his eyes alone that she was sentencing herself to a life with a condemned heretic and shouldn’t she really give it a few more minutes’ thought?
    â€œI’ll take him,” she blurted out.
    Miles hustled the priest out the door before anyone had a chance to say anything else. Abby squished her way closer to the bonfire. She’d just gotten herself married to a man some seven hundred years older than she. Talk about a May-December romance! She shivered. Hopefully his family was as open-minded as he seemed to be. She heard Miles stomping his feet outside the front door and she took a deep breath. He didn’t seem to be worried about what his parents would say. They would just have to cross that bridge when they came to it.
    Abby rolled her eyes. Hadn’t a bridge been what had started her entire adventure?
    The front door opened and Abby gave up worrying about Miles’s parents. She was married now and Garretts did do it after they were married. Frequently. With enthusiasm. Her grandmother had been very clear on that.
    Abby stood up straight and planted her hands on her waist. No time like the present to get down to business.
    And what wonderful business it promised to be.

Chapter Eight
    MILES SAW THE abbot comfortably ensconced in the gatehouse, then returned to the hall. He stood at the threshold and looked back over his bailey. Already, his mind was overflowing with ideas for improvement. He couldn’t subject Abigail to life in these conditions. He would make Speningethorpe as modern as he could, for Abigail’s sake.
    He stomped his muddy boots to clean them, entered his hall, and closed the door behind him. Abigail was standing next to the fire, hands on her waist. Ah, so she was prepared to do battle again. Miles leaned back against the wood and smiled. Saints, what a woman he was blessed with. His life with her would be one joy after another.
    After they survived the next few hours, that is. Miles folded his arms across his chest and contemplated his next action. They were wed legally enough. To be sure, he wanted to bed her, but was it too soon?
    â€œHey,” she said, frowning. “Why are you over there?”
    â€œI’m watching you,” he replied, with a smile.
    â€œI’m cuter up close.”
    Miles laughed as he crossed the floor. “You’re fetching from any distance, my lady.” He pulled her into his arms and held her close. “God bless that bloody Sir Sweetums for bringing you to me.”
    â€œI couldn’t agree more.”
    Miles held her for several minutes in silence. After a time, he began to feel quite warm. He jerked away from Abigail and gave himself the once-over to make sure none of him was on fire. Abigail was looking at him as if he’d lost his wits.
    â€œI was growing warm,” he offered.
    Her eyes twinkled merrily. “Nothing seems to be smoldering, Miles.”
    He looked at her, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable. What was he to say, that his warmth had definitely not come from any fire? Abigail tilted her head to one side and looked at him appraisingly.
    â€œYou shaved,” she noted.
    He nodded. “And had a wash outside,” he added. “But I’m sure you still smell better than I do.”
    She laughed. “Thank you. I think.”
    Miles nudged a piece of slimy hay with his toe. “We could kiss.” He looked at her from under his eyelashes.
    â€œWe could.”
    â€œI don’t want to rush you, Abby.”
    She shook