Lonely is the Knight (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 3)

BOOK: Lonely is the Knight (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 3)
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Contents

Title

Copyright

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Reading List

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About

Lonely is the Knight

A Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Novel
Book 3

Cynthia Luhrs

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Lonely is the Knight A Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Novel

Copyright © 2016 by Cynthia Luhrs

 
The soul is here for its own joy. Quote from Rumi

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to my fabulous editor, Arran at Editing720

May each and every one of you find your very own knight in shining armor.

Chapter One

Prologue

Present Day—Deep in the Carpathian Mountains

Charlotte woke coughing. Smoke filled the room and she could see flames. The tiny wooden building was on fire. She couldn’t believe it. The man who’d tried to kill Melinda, put her in a coma, was dead. This was a simple accident, nothing more.

She was deep in the Carpathian Mountains, where she’d run to get away from all the craziness. On her hands and knees, Charlotte crawled for the door. It wouldn’t open. Something was blocking it from the other side. She grabbed one of the scarves Lucy had made her and held it to her mouth to keep the smoke from filling her lungs. As she crawled in the opposite direction, she searched for the window. It was her only way out.

The sound of a raven calling came from her left. The bird seemed to be leading her to safety. Charlotte pushed up the window and rolled over the edge, landing in the snow. She breathed in, coughing, her battered lungs burning.

Charlotte sat in the internet cafe and checked her email. Her friend Jake was housesitting and said the police were trying to get in touch with her. When she called, the nice officer informed her Melinda had taken her own life.

Even though she knew there was no way both of her sisters had tried to kill themselves, Charlotte let the tears fall. She knew in her heart there was no way both of them had fallen to their deaths. But she didn’t say any of this to the officer. She thanked him for telling her and ended the call, sniffling and blowing her nose.

There were enough bizarre happenings in this small town to make Charlotte certain there was more to this world than we could see and feel.
 

She would visit the one person she thought could give her some insight. The oldest woman in the village. Marielle was rumored to have the sight. Maybe she could tell Charlotte what had happened to Lucy and Melinda. She snorted. It wasn’t like the cops had a clue.

Charlotte knocked on the bright blue door. Marielle opened it, beckoning her in. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Melinda is dead. At least, that’s what the police officer told me. He said she was visiting Falconburg Castle and jumped to her death out of grief. I don’t know why she went there but I do know this. She would not kill herself.”

Charlotte wiped the tears from her eyes and blew her nose. She met the gypsy woman’s wise eyes.

“Can you please tell me what happened to my sisters?”

The woman shuffled a worn deck of tarot cards. She laid them out in three rows of seven, from left to right.
 

“The top row is your past. The center row the present. And the bottom row is your future.”

Marielle looked at the cards for a long time.

“You will find your sisters in England. But not this England.”

“Melinda saw a painting in London. She swore it was of our sister Lucy. It was painted during the fourteenth century. Do you mean I can actually go back in time?”

“What is time? Time does not flow in a line. It is a circle. There are many possibilities if only you listen.”

The woman gathered up the cards and put them away. She took Charlotte’s hands in hers, looking at her palms.

“Be wary, child. Great danger awaits you. Look for the raven. He will guide your path. And the unicorn will bring great change to your life. Be ready.”

Unicorns? Charlotte believed in a lot of things, things others called New Age or ridiculous. But even she didn’t believe in unicorns.

“Thank you, Marielle. It’s time for me to leave. To go home and prepare.”

The little old gypsy lady kissed her on each cheek.

“Be strong, Charlotte. Your destiny awaits, if you have the courage to take it.”

If Lucy had gone back in time, did the gypsy mean Melinda had found a way to go back too? Charlotte needed to research and prepare. She didn’t know how she could go back, only that she must.

She grabbed her meager belongings and stuffed them into the back of the waiting taxi. While it made more sense to fly to England from Romania, she needed to go back to Holden Beach first. Tie up loose ends. Say goodbye to her childhood home and figure out a plan. Her sisters might call her flighty and free-spirited, but she had a knack for figuring things out.

She didn’t have a will, and there was the house and cars to deal with. Charlotte pulled out a small notebook from her bag and started a list. The fact that Lucy never returned and now Melinda was missing told Charlotte once you ended up in the past, you were stuck. So she would take care of what she needed to and then catch a flight to England. And somehow she would find a way to travel through time and find her sisters. Though what if they ended up in different times?

“No!”

“Miss?”

“Sorry. I was talking to myself.”

The driver nodded and went back to humming. Lucy and Melinda had to be together. Fate couldn’t be so cruel.

Holden Beach, North Carolina

A month had passed since Charlotte returned home to Holden Beach. She was completely healed from the burns on her arms and legs from the fire. Thanks to an old recipe of Aunt Pittypat’s, she wouldn’t scar.

Charlotte noticed her finger shaking as she switched off the iPad.
Melinda Merriweather, American, apparent suicide due to grief over losing her sister, who died almost a year ago. Both sisters drowned and were presumed lost at sea.

Two of her sisters go to England and are presumed dead or missing? Something smelled worse than a pot of collards left on the stove for two days and two nights.

Why hadn’t she listened to Melinda? Gone with her? And what was with the Brits wanting to kill all three of them? She’d barely escaped the fire. Had come to believe someone was still after her. Why?

There had to be a reason. Charlotte jumped on her bike and rode to the local bookstore. Inside she perused the stacks. She bought books on the history of England, particularly those with a focus on the fourteenth century. Books on field medicine, plants, and herbs. Oh, and let’s not forget books on witchcraft and New Age ideas. As she took the huge stack up to the checkout, the cute guy wearing glasses flirted with her.

“Wow, that’s a lot of information. Are you studying for a class?”

“You could say that. I’m going to England for vacation, so I thought it would be fun to visit a few castles.”

He picked up the book on field medicine. “Well, unless you’re planning to start a war while you’re there, I don’t think you’ll need this one.”

“It’s always good to broaden your horizons, don’t you think?”

Charlotte collected her purchases and filled up the basket on the bike. One thing to check off her list. While she hated taking any more time before she left for England, she felt it was important to be prepared. Her flight left two weeks from today. That should give her enough time to read through the books and make notes. She was a firm believer in notes.

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