A Knight in Central Park(9)

She cocked her head. “What is that?”

“The fact that I’m having any sort of conversation at all with a woman who has limped her way into my house without permission only to knock me over the head with a—” He glanced around the room. “What did you hit me with?”

Tentatively, she retrieved a toilet plunger from underneath the pillows. Not just any plunger either. This one had been a housewarming gift and it had a solid handle of brushed steel. No wonder his head felt as if it had been bashed in with a baseball bat.

He took the weapon from her and set it out of her reach. “I hit you with my car and now you’ve hit me with a plunger. I’d say we’re even.”

She frowned. “Is it bleeding?”

“No,” he said as he took a seat in the heavily upholstered chair facing the bed. “Go ahead, get back into bed.”

For the first time since he’d met her, she looked wary of him, maybe even intimidated. He figured she deserved it. If she wanted to sleep in the home of a man she didn’t even know, then she’d have to face the consequences.

He tapped a finger to his knee and waited for her to climb into bed, finding himself ridiculously mesmerized by her wriggling bottom as she struggled to do so.

“Now explain what you’re doing here,” he said after she adjusted the blankets.

“As I said before, your lady friend brought me.”

Somehow he managed to remain calm. “I want to know why you’re really here. Is this something you do on a regular basis, you know, step in front of cars, hoping to find shelter for a few days, a few weeks, maybe months?”

“If I speak the truth, will you promise to hear me out?”

“Promise,” he said, leaning back into the chair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Thirty minutes later, Joe realized, they were getting absolutely nowhere. As she rambled on, he found himself wishing he’d never asked the question. He should’ve left well enough alone and gone up to bed the moment he’d seen that it was her. Instead, he listened as she babbled on about coming from a time when knights roamed England and castles were common; the late fifteenth century to be exact, when King Henry VII held the throne, uniting the houses of Lancaster and York.

He guessed that Alexandra had majored in medieval history before going off the deep end. “So,” he said, when she paused for a breath, “you’re from another time?”

“Aye.”

“And you have until the next full moon to get help?”

She nodded and added in a serious tone, “King Henry is very sly. He has taxed the common people heavily, which has made circumstances surrounding our village unsafe. Noblemen like Sir Richard are doing as they please, taking from the poor until there is naught left but bitterness and fear. ’Twould seem Sir Richard has his mind set on marrying my sister, but I will not allow it. He is a cruel and evil man, which is why I am here.”

He cocked his head. “And why is that?”

“To get help, of course.”

“Of course.” First thing in the morning he was going to hunt Shelly down and let her have a piece of his mind for leaving this woman in his house.

Alexandra settled back into the mounds of pillows, making little noises of contentment. “It is a relief to have it all off my chest. I was afraid you would not believe a word I uttered, for even I failed to believe my grandfather’s tales. But you, Sir Joe, are a suitable listener, indeed. Shelly said you were a kind, generous man, and I should have known after our meeting this morn that you would not turn me away.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because your kindness shimmers in your eyes like a lost treasure in the sand.”

He cocked a brow upward. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “You are a gentle warrior with a good heart, and you are going to help me. It is your destiny. My instincts tell me all of this. My instincts rarely fail me.”

She looked so innocent, so earnestly naïve, that he could hardly stand the thought of disappointing her. Why upset her tonight? What good would it do? He gave her a pitiful smile. “I’ll help you...first thing in the morning.”

He stood. His head still throbbed. He went to the window and closed it, making a mental note to have the lock fixed.

Alexandra’s eyes were closed by the time he turned back. He watched her snuggle against her pillow like a contented cat, and then he headed for the door.