Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)(21)

It wasn’t right. None of it was right.

“Jooooosh!”



Fear must have crept into her voice, because Robert tightened his arm around her.

But this time she took no comfort in it.

In the blink of an eye, everything had changed.

Beth didn’t know where she was, only that she was far from where she should have been. Much farther than she had guessed.

And until she discovered exactly how she had come to be there, she could give no one—not even Robert—her trust.

The rest of the ride passed in silence, broken only by Beth’s frantic calls for her brother.





Concern for Bethany suffused Robert as he guided Berserker off the road and into the forest toward the clearing in which he intended to make camp.

She no longer leaned back against him as she had earlier. Instead she held herself stiffly erect.

All of his recent attempts to speak with her had begotten curt, one-word responses.

’Twas more than her missing brother that concerned her now. He was sure of it. But she would not confide in him.

“Why are we stopping?” she asked.

“We have lost the light. ’Tis time we make camp for the night.”

A moment passed. “What about the others?”

“They shall find us anon.”

Dismounting, he turned, grasped her by the waist and lifted her down.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she stepped away from him, breaking contact. “Thank you.”

Robert frowned as she sidled away, carefully avoiding his gaze.

She no longer trusted him.

Had he said or done something to frighten her or lead her to believe he lacked honor?

His mind raced as he removed his bundle, then the saddle from Berserker’s back. “What think you, friend?” he whispered into the mighty destrier’s ear. “My questions might have proven vexing to some, but she seemed happy enough to answer them at the time.”

Berserker gave his shoulder an affectionate nudge, encouraging him to continue as Bethany wandered off into the brush.

“I know not why they would inspire fear. Do you? I vow ’twas not my intent to make her uneasy.”



Troubled, he began to rub his patient listener down and sought some reason for her withdrawal. He had said naught untoward. His hand had not strayed whilst his arm had been securely locked around her.

Of course, his mind had. And where his thoughts had gone, his body had longed to follow.

Robert stilled. Bethany had not been aware of his body’s physical reaction to her, had she? Though his mail and gambeson had not prevented his nether regions from responding to the lustful thoughts inspired by her moans of satisfaction as he had scratched her back or the ever-changing pressure of her shapely bottom wedged up against him, he had thought he was shielded well enough that she would be none the wiser.

If he were mistaken, however, such would explain her new wariness of him. A young woman, unescorted, alone with a knight whose body had betrayed his desire for her…

“Do you think she knew?”

Berserker snorted and nodded his head, as though confirming Robert’s thoughts.

“Well, I am certainly not going to ask her. ’Twould only make things worse if you were mistaken.”

“Do you always talk to your horse?”

Jumping guiltily, Robert spun around.

Bethany stood behind him, her arms full of branches.

He cleared his throat. “I see you have been busy.”

She shrugged and nodded toward Berserker. “So who was consulting whom?”

Relief flooded him. She had not heard.

“Actually, er, Berserker was just seeking my advice on how he might woo a certain mare in my brother’s stables.”

“Ahhh.” The faint shadow of a smile touched her lips. “I’ll leave you to your manly discussion then and see if I can’t put together a fire while we wait for the others to join us.”

He shook his head. “I shall see to that. You should rest.”

She stared up at him for a long moment, eyes haunted. “I need something to do, something to occupy my mind and hands while I wait for your friends to bring me news of Josh.”

Again Robert felt tenderness rise within him. “Then we shall build the fire together.”

Nodding, she turned and led the way to the center of the small clearing. A couple of additional trips into the forest were required to produce enough wood and kindling for a fire that would burn most of the night. When all had been arranged to their mutual satisfaction, Robert retrieved the flint he would use to strike a spark.

“You’re going to light it with that?” she asked, kneeling beside him.

“Aye.”

“Really? I’ve never seen someone do that before.”

He looked down at the fine-grained quartz in his hand, then met her curious gaze. “How do you start a fire?”

“With matches.”

He frowned. “Those wooden splinters secreted away within the handle of your blade?”

“Aye.”

That seemed unlikely. Without flint, how would she spark a flame to burn the wood?

Tilting his head to one side, he cocked a brow. “I shall demonstrate the use of flint if you will do the same with your matches.”