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

used to hearing all kinds of pronouncements. At a score and seven, Henry felt nothing could surprise him anymore. He had become inured to such tidings.
    Oblivious to his musings, she went on. “Those you call friend will turn against you. A stranger will become more important to you than your own life. And when you see nothing but darkness ahead, look to the east.”
    Before he could retort, a raven called out overhead. And a feeling went through Henry, the feeling he sometimes got in battle or when something was about to happen. He would not jest. The old woman was more than she seemed. It was rumored a great healer, or some said witch, lived in the wood with the bandits. Could this be her? Not wanting to risk angering her, Henry kept his mouth shut.
    The raven flew away as they rode out of the wood. He kept the horse to the muddy path. In the distance he could see a small village. He would see her safely settled with a few coins. A feeling of foreboding coursed through him as Henry wondered what was coming next.

Chapter Four

    Late May—England  

    Charlotte stretched, turning her head side to side to work out the kinks. While she was slightly taller than average at five foot seven, it wasn’t that much of a difference. It seemed the seats on planes were shrinking. And the space between her knees and the seat in front of her? Nonexistent. Every time she flew, people were grumpy, the flights overbooked, and the air always smelled funny.  
    Her legs were achy from being scrunched up the entire flight. The man in front of her had reclined his seat all the way back and snored so loudly Charlotte found it impossible to sleep.
    “That’s what you get for flying coach. Why didn’t you splurge for first class? Especially if this insane plan works and you’ll never set foot on another airplane again.”
    Wow. That gave her pause. No more planes. The sound of cars, trains, and the hum of electrical wires. It would be so quiet in the past.
    A businessman walking past her look alarmed as she talked to herself. He moved as far away from her as he could as he continued talking on his mobile phone. Charlotte stuck her tongue out at him. And no more people on their phones, ignoring everything around them.
    She snorted. If he thought she was crazy, he should’ve met her famous great-grammy, Lucy Lou Merriweather. From the family stories she’d heard, her gram took crazy to a whole ’nother level.
    A scruffy-looking guy, wearing jeans and a faded red t-shirt proclaiming Bacon is Amazin , held up a sign with her name on it.
    “Maybe not to the pig.” She smiled. “Hi, I’m Charlotte.”
    “Huh?” He looked down. “Right. The shirt. Funny.” He cocked his head, a skeptical look plastered across his face. “You’re the bird wants to learn how to use a knife and survive in medieval times?” He looked her up and down. “No offense, but you look more like a model than a chick who likes to play in the dirt.”
    “Looks can be deceiving. Shall we get going?”
    The guy sighed. “Guess you got a mountain of luggage waiting?”
    Charlotte nudged her rolling bag with her toe and showed him the messenger bag and backpack. “Nope. I travel light. Now, want to get going, or are we going to stand here and discuss hair-care products?”
    The guy chuckled. “You’re all right, Charlotte, the Yank from North Carolina.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “We could share a bottle tonight.”
    “Not gonna happen.”
    He simply shrugged and started walking. Thank goodness this wasn’t the guy in charge. She’d end up smacking him before her two weeks were up. Why did some guys see an attractive woman and immediately assume she was stupid, helpless, and easy?  
    A beat-up truck covered in stickers was to be her chariot. He shot her a look, daring her to complain. Whatever. She’d ridden in a truck full of camels in the middle of summer. This was nothing. Charlotte stashed her bags behind the seat, climbed in, and twisted her hair