The Guardian (Chronicles of Dover's Amalgam Book 1) (18 page)

“He never mentioned that he was promised,” Elizabet said. She glanced over her shoulder and watched until Beau and Jeremy were safely in the truck. “I’ve never heard of this.” Turning back, she crossed her arms. “What can I do? If he’s promised, he needs to keep his word. That’s what they do in his time. If the people can’t trust his word, then anarchy will start. I will, in no way, become part of a love triangle. Read the book—it never ends well, and it aggravates me. I hate love triangles. If she wants him, she can have him.”

“Oh, Catherine wants him.”

Elizabet stiffened. Gabriel wanted to laugh, but he did not. She looked as though she wanted to hit something, and he preferred it not be him. The ancient warrior in him was still not tame—he may return the parry, to his destruction.

“She is all that is detestable. Liar. Mean-spirited. Cold. All the things Jareth is not. He never agreed to the betrothal. It was imposed by the Black Prince. They are trying to join the shores of England in wedded bliss. Don’t get so offended. It’s not as though Jareth asked for any of this.”

“I’m not offended,” she insisted.

“Hurt?”

“Why would I be hurt?” she asked, yet she attempted to hide her shaking hands by clenching them repeatedly. “I hardly know him.”

“Hardly,” Gabriel parroted. “Did you happen to see the name of his wife? Perhaps in a history book? Google?”

Elizabet’s jaw tensed. “I didn’t have to Google it. Jareth told me.” She looked away, up into the tree behind the bench where he sat. “Google was wrong anyway,” she muttered.

Gabriel did laugh then. “Prickly little thing, aren’t you?”

“What do you want me to do?” Her face had turned both stony and red. She was adorable.

“Harrow has an idea. He’s a medical doctor who—”

“I know who he is,” Elizabet said.

Gabriel frowned at being interrupted, but he was impressed. Jareth had been talkative; that was a good sign. “Harrow says if we can prove Jareth was already betrothed or married, then the betrothal will be void. As if it was never made. It will make the Black Prince out to be a fool, but who cares? He’s in a constant state of wrath anyway. Minh is developing a plan. If it works, we won’t need the king’s intervention.”

“So, you show up here and you haven’t got a plan?”

“We’re working on it, sweetheart,” Gabriel drawled. He tucked the cigarette between his lips.

She lowered her voice. “Don’t call me that,” she said—in threat-like fashion. “What do you want me to do?” she repeated.

“I want you to come with me. Today.” He shrugged, bit the cigarette and smiled. “We aren’t sure if we’ll present you as his bride—all properly married—or if we will have you show up as his dearly betrothed. Haven’t decided yet.”

“Lovely.”

“Catherine has had her sights on Jareth since they were children.” Gabriel took the cigarette from his mouth and eyed it with fondness before he stuck it behind his ear. “She won’t go without a fight. She’s upset; had a bunch of Jareth’s serfs butchered to get his attention. She’s trying to scare him into marrying her. Her daddy had him ambushed and is keeping him trussed up somewhere in Torre Abbey.”

“How awful,” Elizabet said. She did not appear as hysterical suddenly, but concerned. “How is he?”

“I’d love to answer that question, but I can’t. He’s a prisoner and is being held for breach of contract—remember, princess?”

“Don’t call me that,” she replied automatically. She brought her index finger to her mouth and chewed at the cuticle. “Is he hurt?”

Gabriel rolled his shoulders. “Probably. Sir James is a di—” He smiled. “Known for his brutality.”

She spit the cuticle from her mouth and lowered her hand to prop it on her hip. Her stance changed, shifted to sassy. This was the duchess he was accustomed to. “This Sir James is Catherine’s dad?” Gabriel nodded. “He did point out what a catch he is,” Elizabet said matter-of-factly.

“Sounds like Jareth was trying to get you jealous,” Gabriel said. “But then again, he wasn’t exaggerating either. Handsome, decorated war hero, a castle, title. I could go on, but I’m sure you get the picture.”

“You left out bastard.”

Gabriel feigned shock, his hand pressed to his chest. “And here I thought I nearly had you. What else do you know? Or are you only familiar with the juicy tidbits?”

“I know that history believes he is a son of the King of England. But he’s still a bastard.”

“The nature of his birthing will not hold him down. He was made for greatness. And you just said it yourself—he’s a prince. That part is true.”

Elizabet looked down, all the way to her scuffed, dirty boots. “What do you want me to do? Marry him?”

He let his smile lift on one side. “Well, technically, if Minh was successful, you may already have married him some five hundred years ago.”

“Right.” Her spine straightened. She brought her hands together and twisted them. “Don’t I have any say at all?”

“We need you to be there, in Torquay, when we ask for his pardon. It is essential that you are physically there.” He lifted his shoulders. “I don’t care one way or the other, princess, whether it’s as a wife or as a betrothed. But I will have you there if I have to toss you over my shoulder and haul you there.”

“How rude.”

“We thought of having you go—the present duchess who is already happily married to Jareth—but he said that wouldn’t work. It had to be young you.” He softened his eyes when he faced her. “We did try to spare you the inconvenience.”

“Why?” she asked. He lowered his brows and regarded her through his confusion. She shook her head. “Why couldn’t the older me go?”

“Because you are currently pregnant. About to deliver any day, and we can’t take the chance. You’re small and require advanced medical care when you labor. We must ride there, at least partially, and not use the time stones. Jareth is getting all crazy about us traveling. Says it has something to do with flimsy fibers of time.” He waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss Jareth’s concerns.

“It’s a bit overwhelming,” she said. She shook her head and glanced back to the truck where Jeremy and Beau’s faces were pasted to the window, and then pressed her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose. “But I’ll do it.” She turned back and nodded. “I’ll do it. It sounds crazy, but I’m having his baby, for goodness sake. It’s the least I can do.”

Chapter 10

ELIZABET SAT ATOP
the horse she shared with Gabriel because he claimed she could not ride to save her life—a true statement—how utterly in the dark they were concerning her. They had both made fun of her because they knew her paternal grandparents owned a horse farm; though what they didn’t realize was that her life was breathing oxymoron on so many levels. If they knew of the horse farm, what else were they holding back? She narrowed her eyes as Minh lit a cigarette.

“Put it out,” Gabriel said.

“No,” Minh replied. Smoke curled out of his mouth as he spoke. He used the cigarette as a pointer. “She doesn’t mind.”

Elizabet tipped her head back as Gabriel looked down on her.

“I don’t,” she said, but coughed the words. “My dad smokes.”

“Idiot,” Gabriel said.

“Oh, you know him?” she asked.

Minh smiled. “We haven’t had the pleasure. Jareth keeps his in-laws away from time portals.”

“Oh,” she repeated. She crossed her arms. It was awkward being enveloped in Gabriel’s embrace. She did not know what to do. Sit poker straight or relax back onto the wall of muscle behind her? She sat up taller. “How much longer to this place we are going?”

Minh shrugged. “A few hours.”

Gabriel scoffed. “I’m sick of this. What are the perks of having alchemy if we can’t use it? We could be there by now, saving Jareth’s life instead of prancing around on ponies.”

“Time is not something to be trifled with,” Minh said, his voice obviously mimicking someone. He sounded an awful lot like Jareth. He grinned; smoke trailed out the corner of his mouth. “He never lets us practice any of the good stuff. I almost forgot how to inflict certain torture laws to those in need of little honesty.” His smile widened. “Almost.”

“Mr. Minister of War,” Elizabet said, and then smirked at Minh when he looked about to fall off his horse. “Yes, yes. I know all about you.” She looked over her shoulder at Gabriel when she felt him stiffen. “You too, Mr. I am Sparta.”

Gabriel laughed at that. “Sounds like trouble.”

“Methinks Jareth has a big blabbermouth,” Minh mumbled. He drew on the cigarette. “Sounds like a breach of classified information.”

“No sense in standing on ceremony, eh?” Gabriel flicked the reins to his left hand. “She is Jareth’s duchess.”

“I do have a memory of a short chit who likes to scold people,” Minh said. He looked her over, his lips sliding to the side and his expression becoming cocky. “Sort of looks a bit like you—I suppose. Do you have an overactive gag reflex? It’s the only way to tell really.”

“You really do know a lot about me.” It was embarrassing that they knew of her gift. It was not as though she asked for a strong gag reflex as a super power, or as though she wished for a weak stomach.

“Yep,” Gabriel said. “I’m not surprised Jareth told you about us. You’re like everyone’s little pet. We watch out for you. Make sure no one checkmate’s the duchess.”

“It’s what we do,” Minh said, and tossed his cigarette aside. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of gum. “As if we need to state the obvious, though. Here we are. Watching you. Bringing you gift wrapped to Jareth.”

“You told me not to bring anything that could tie me to the future,” Elizabet said. The words ‘little pet’ vibrated in her mind. The sight of the gum was like waving a red flag in front of the face of a bull. She had left home with barely the clothes on her back due to their rules. They had made her strip, leave her clothes behind a bush somewhere between here and Dover and had given her a scratchy gown of some sort to wear. And they were allowed factory packaged cigarettes and gum? She clawed at her neck where there was sure to be an abrasion while she glared at Minh.

“You’re wearing a watch.” Gabriel pronounced each word like a sentencing of death.

“I want to keep up with the time,” she said with a sniff. She pulled down the cloak’s sleeve over the silver watch and rotated her shoulders to loosen the dress. They would be appalled if they knew what else she was hiding—what she had not allowed them to see when she changed into this hideous garment. “To keep grounded.”

“We’re here to keep you grounded, your grace. You don’t need a watch,” Minh said. He folded the piece of gum into his mouth and bit down on it with a smile. “What part of the chess game do you not understand?”

“Ignore Prince of Persia over there. He’s missing his internet access. His phone has no service,” Gabriel said. “The smoking, the gum chewing is all to aggravate us into letting him have his way. Manipulative bastard.”

“I have no service,” Minh defended, “As you have so quaintly pointed out.” He shrugged and blew a pitiful bubble. It was small and popped immediately. He sucked the gum back into his mouth. “But I can still play Candy Crush.”

“Pathetic,” Gabriel said. He looked up and squinted at the sky that was darkening.

Elizabet watched the scenery as they rode in silence. It was beautiful and she did not want to miss it this time. Knowing she was seeing medieval England was sublime. She sniffed the air, enjoyed the raindrops that were scattered, and pushed her face into the breeze to memorize every smell and detail she could absorb. She had missed out on much while here before; technically, not knowing where she was. The knowing changed everything.

“Do you think he’s lost his way?” Minh asked. Thunder rumbled in the distance. “Looks like he’s over Plymouth.”

“Who?” She gazed ahead at the dirt road. The sky was darkening. The clouds cast a greenish glow around them. She looked inquisitively to Minh. “There is nobody here on the road but us.”

“The host is moving quickly,” Gabriel said, and spurred their horse into a faster pace. “If he speeds up anymore, we’ll be forced to use the time band. I’m not taking any chances with the duchess. This goes on the record as me disagreeing with Jareth. The host was not ready. He’s volatile.” He looked over his shoulder at Minh’s lagging stride. “Hurry on, Prince of Persia. Times wasting.”

Minh’s expression was amused as he caught up to them, their mounts’ heads together as they galloped along the path. “I wish I were a prince, then I would trump you.” Elizabet clung to Gabriel’s forearm for stability. Her scenic view was ruined. “Have you seen the popular movie about his people?” Minh asked. “The one with the ab display and all the models posturing like a pack of bulls?”

“Actors, Minh,” Gabriel said. It sounded as though he was smiling, but she did not want to turn around again to confirm it. She was more concerned with staying on the horse. “They’re actors.”

“Oh, yes.” Minh said, rolling rolled his eyes a bit. “They are actors, because we all have six pack abs like that. Finely made men who portray a dead tribe of warriors. Of course, you all must have been wildly handsome and buff just because you were elite warriors.” He said ‘elite’ with a chuckle.

Gabriel snickered. “I’m not ugly, and we
were
rather large. And speak for yourself, I have abs.”

“Can you guys stop for a minute?” she interrupted. The pace had increased until her bottom was coming off the horse’s back and she was struggling to hold on. They were talking as if they were at a tea party, not going a hundred miles an hour on horseback. She lifted her gaze skyward. “The rain is getting worse. Shouldn’t we stop until it passes?”

“No,” they said in unison. Gabriel pulled on the reigns to slow the pace, though. “Listen, duchess, this weather is going to get really,
really
, bad in about—”

“Three minutes,” Minh offered.

“Three minutes,” Gabriel agreed. “And we’re practically there. Just hold tight.”

Thunder rumbled closer. They were near the eastern coast of England. The waves were rowdy with the approaching storm. The skyline was hazy, almost black where the storm brewed. It looked ominous and not harmless. Elizabet turned her face back to the sky and frowned. Even as they approached the dense clouds, it seemed as if the clouds were coming toward them even faster.