Stumbling a few yards to the crest of the hill that Berserker’s height had allowed her to peer over prematurely, Beth absorbed the fresh scenery before her with something akin to horror.
Below them spread a valley dotted with cattle and plump white sheep, grazing idly on the lush green carpet that overlaid the land. Small huts with thatched roofs appeared and grew in greater frequency as her gaze moved on, ultimately clustering together and forming a sizable village. Farmland, rich and bountiful, wove a gargantuan quilt. People, whom she didn’t need to see clearly to know were dressed much the same way the merchant and peasants had been, bustled to and fro as they performed the day’s labor.
Beyond them a moat slithered in the shadow of a stone wall whose height and width she could not begin to estimate from this distance. And beyond that, atop the opposite rise, standing proud and majestic in the brilliant sunlight, rose an enormous medieval castle.
Her whole body began to shake.
Not a few stones piled here and there amidst tangles of overgrowth.
Not the remains of a medieval castle. Or the shell of a medieval castle. Or a refurbished medieval castle preceded by a paved drive, carefully planned flower beds and a parking lot arranged for tourists’ convenience.
But a medieval castle that stood in pristine condition.
A castle that looked as though it could have been built yesterday.
A castle with absolutely nothing modern surrounding it.
No city. No suburbs. No small town.
No sidewalks. No paved streets. No old-time brick-and-mortar streets.
No cars. No trucks. No SUVs. No buses. No motorcycles. No bicycles.
No telephone poles. No cell towers.
No grocery stores—neither large chain nor mom and pop.
No post office. No police station.
No motels or bed-and-breakfasts welcoming tourists with colorful signs.
“It can’t be,” Beth whispered as full-blown panic paralyzed her. “It can’t be.”
Robert paced back and forth from one side of the road to the other, his gaze fastened on Bethany’s back.
For almost an hour, she had stood motionless at the top of the hill, limbs stiff, fists clenched, eyes wide, face bloodless. Occasionally her lips would move, but damned if he could hear one word of whatever she spoke.
Every once in a while she would squeeze her eyes shut and shake her head as though in denial.
Glancing to one side, he gauged the response of his men. The three of them lounged in the grass at the edge of the forest, having grown weary of waiting. Though they talked in low voices that eluded him, he did not doubt they speculated about whatever madness afflicted her.
His gaze swerved back to Bethany, unsurprised to find she had not moved.
She just stood there, staring at his castle, his domain, his grandest possession, with what appeared to be revulsion.
A sour feeling invaded his stomach.
Fosterly was the largest of his estates. Today he had found himself anticipating their arrival home with joy and pride, eager to show it to her, hoping she would be impressed by it.
It was everything he had dreamed of and thought he would never have.
And she abhorred it.
Why?
Losing patience, he marched toward her. “Beth,” he issued curtly as he reached for her shoulder, “I insist that you tell me what is amiss.”
He had not truly expected her to cooperate since she had ignored all of his previous attempts to communicate. So she caught him off guard when, at the first touch of his hand, she turned on him.
“What have you done?” she demanded.
Robert frowned. Was she angry or frightened? He couldn’t tell.
“What have you done?” she shouted, backing away from him.
His own ire rising, he strove for patience. “Beth, I fail to comprehend why you are behaving so strangely. If you dislike Fosterly…”
In the next instant, she reversed direction and advanced on him with large, angry strides, quickly eating up the distance that separated them. “Where are my guns? I want them back.”
His frown deepened. “You are safe here. I have told you many times that you have naught to fear from us.” In truth, he was growing tired of having to repeat himself.
“I want my weapons back.”
“Beth—”
“Now!”
He stiffened. “’Twould be wise to—”
“I need them back!” she bellowed, eyes wild, breath short. “You have no right to keep them! You never should have taken them in the first place! Now give them to me!”
Had he not seen the absolute terror that glowed in her hazel eyes, he would have been furious that she dared speak to him thusly. Particularly in front of his men.
Not privy to her fear, they no doubt wondered why he did not deal out retribution.
It mattered not. Bethany’s entire body was quaking with fear.
“If you would but calm down,” he coaxed.