She Owns the Knight by Diane Darcy Page B

the men and their horses, then started toward the small village. Kellen fell into step, his long stride enabling him to take one step for every two of hers, his chain mail making a soft clinking sound as they walked. His men fell back, leaving them a bit of privacy, and out of the corner of her eye, Gillian could see Kellen studying her. When she glanced up, the possessive look in his eyes startled her and she quickly dropped her gaze.
    And why wouldn’t he look at her that way? He thought he owned her, body and soul. He believed them to be engaged. Betrothed. Whatever. She shivered. She was going to be in deep trouble when the truth came out.
    She remembered the hard look in his eyes earlier when he’d threatened to hang her. Would he actually kill her if he knew she wasn’t really his fiancé? She swallowed. Maybe not. Probably not. Did they even hang women? She didn’t know for sure, but this was a harsh time and he was a harsh man.
    So the bottom line was, if she didn’t want to die, or end up cleaning medieval bathrooms or something, she was going to be Edith Corbett until she figured out what was going on and found a way back to her own time. And she would find a way. If she could get here, surely she could get back again.
    Gillian thought about the physical exam she’d been subjected to and her cheeks heated. What if she hadn’t been a virgin? What if she’d given in to Ryan’s overtures as she’d considered? Would they have thrown her out and pulled up the drawbridge? Poor Edith. What a time to live.
    Gillian considered the fact that Edith’s last name was the same as her own. A relative? One of the ancestors she’d come to England to find? She had no way of knowing, but found it funny and stifled a laugh. She’d meant to find their headstones, not meet them in person.
    “What amuses you?”
    Gillian lifted a shoulder. “Life is just funny sometimes, you know?”
    “How so?”
    She decided to be as honest as possible. She had no way of knowing anything about Edith, anyway, so couldn’t answer as she would. “One minute I’m alone, and the next,” she shrugged, “on the verge of being married.”
    Which reminded her. Earlier, he’d said her arrival was sooner than expected. That meant the wedding party hadn’t arrived and she wondered how long she had. “Let’s talk about the wedding,” she said brightly. “When is it to be, exactly?”
    “You were supposed to arrive five weeks hence.” Kellen’s face was unreadable as he glanced her way. “Why are you early?”
    “Why do you think I’m early?” she hedged.
    “Your father fears my anger. That you wear his ring bespeaks a message from him. If your father has sent such, state it now.”
    Gillian sighed. “All right. I’ll bite. Why would my father be afraid of you?”
    “Your sister tried to poison me before dying herself, marking her death suspicious. He fears my anger.” He sounded as if he’d hated his wife and she’d obviously despised him.
    “You didn’t kill her, did you?” Remembering the way he’d threatened to hang her, Gillian was only half-joking.
    “Nay!” Kellen turned her toward him, his expression affronted. “Have you heard such?”
    Gillian swallowed. “No.” Kellen’s hands were warm on her shoulders. “I . . . just the way you worded it. It made me wonder. So, she killed herself?”
    He nodded once. “In trying to poison me, she mischanced to poison herself, though rumors spread that suicide was her goal.”
    Good grief. And this psycho was supposed to be Edith’s sister? And he wanted to marry her? How very awkward. Gillian lifted her face to the sunlight. “It certainly is a nice day, isn’t it?”
    Kellen grunted, and she supposed that was all the response her change of subject deserved. Gillian turned away and they started walking again. So, perhaps she had as long as five weeks before the bride and her parents showed. “Why do you want to marry me, anyway?”
    “You bring more land