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

she’d be calling medieval England home.
    No more feeling sad or worrying. She blew a kiss to the sun as it fell into the ocean then went inside. Not at all tired, she decided stay up and finish sorting through the rest of the stuff in the house. There wasn’t much left to go through. She’d already donated a lot of stuff, gave more to friends, and sorted through every drawer and closet.
    The next day, Charlotte blew a strand of hair out of her face and wiped the grime from her cheek, letting the salty air coat her skin. Everything was done. She pulled out her trusty planner and went over the list again. The guys in England had promised to teach her how to use a knife.
    She hoped the other information she’d learned during her research would be useful. Well, to a point. Heaven help anyone she might have to stitch up. Sewing a button on was one thing. Sewing skin together? Yuck.  
    She patted the leather journal. Knowledge was priceless.
    Charlotte looked to the sky. “If you’re listening, Aunt Pittypat, please don’t let me end up in the wrong time.”
    The Black Plague took place smack in the middle of the century. Heaven forbid she ended up when that was going on. There still wasn’t a cure even in this day and age. The small glass jar full of antibiotics made her feel a little bit better.  
    Had her sisters found someone to love in the past? Charlotte had searched and searched, but couldn’t find the painting Melinda swore she saw in the museum in England. There was no listing for it on the website. She even called. A nice woman with the most perfect accent had assured her if they had it, she’d know. The hair on her arms had stood up as she ended the call. Had Melinda done something when she went back? Somehow changing history?
    Honestly, Charlotte didn’t care what her sisters had done to change history as long as she found them. It would be enough for her to see them again. For all of them to live in the same country, in the same time. To know they’d found love and were content.  
    And if she was very lucky, perhaps she would find her very own knight in shining armor.
    The wind blew, it started to sprinkle, and for a moment Charlotte swore she heard the sound of bagpipes playing the most haunting melody. Weird.

Chapter Three

    May 1330—England  

    “You ride slower than my grandmother,” Sir Antoine called over his shoulder as he galloped through the wood.
    Henry Thornton, Lord Ravenskirk, urged the horse faster. He’d spent the past fortnight at Sir Antoine’s estate on his way back home from court. Hunting and drinking while Antoine invited all the daughters of eligible nobles so he could choose a wife.
    Let them come. Henry had no desire to find a wife. His life was made up of fighting and drinking, which suited him perfectly. Let his elder brothers settle down. He would remain unwed.
    Antoine veered left, and Henry laughed. Up ahead was a shortcut that would take him across the wood and bring him out in front of the stag. At some point Henry must have taken a wrong turn, for he found himself in an unfamiliar part of the wood.
    What was that noise? Henry strained to listen. The sound was coming from the west. Quietly, Henry slid off the horse and tied the beast to a tree.  
    “Don’t want you wandering off while I do my chivalrous duty.”
    The horse twitched an ear but remained silent. With a hand on the hilt of his sword, Henry made his way through the woods, following the sound of rushing water.
    He came to a waterfall. At the base near an outcropping of rock, there was something in the water. He squinted and made out the color purple.
    “Help me.”
    ’Twas a woman’s voice. Henry scrambled down the rocks, slipping and sliding. He landed on his backside with a thud.
    “Bloody hell.” He climbed across the moss-covered wet rocks and leaned over, reaching out.
    “Give me your hand.”
    The woman looked up at him, her face wrinkled with age, yet there was great intelligence behind