“I know. Just tell me.”
“Very well. My brother’s wife is a wisewoman, as were her mother and grandmother before her and so on. I know not how far back it goes, only that members of her family have more often than not been born with certain gifts that have driven some to travel the world in search of knowledge and to escape persecution as witches.”
“What kind of gifts?”
“I shall disclose those later.”
“Now I’m really curious.”
He smiled. “I know.”
“Wait a minute. Your brother’s wife? You mean Alyssa?” If he started waxing poetic over the woman’s beauty and many virtues again, Beth was going to hit him over the head with something.
“Aye.” His teeth gleamed in a grin. “Your eyes are lovely when they sparkle with jealousy.”
“Oh, shut up and keep explaining.” Damn it. He was right. Even after his earlier assurances, she burned with jealousy whenever he mentioned the other woman’s name.
“Alyssa has in her possession numerous tomes and scrolls so old that the language written upon some is no longer spoken.”
“Can she read them?”
“Many of them, aye. Her grandmother taught her and she in turn has shared with me the knowledge she gleaned from them whenever I pestered her with questions.”
The image of him bending over dusty old manuscripts with some gorgeous babe made her want to strangle him.
“And my brother,” he added, clearly amused. “Did I mention that my brother is often present during our discussions? I am certain Dillon knows far more than I do.”
“Good save.” Forcing her jealousy aside, she pondered the probability of books or scrolls containing that kind of information actually existing at this point in time. “You said they’re really old?”
“Ancient in some cases. Alyssa will not let me touch them for fear I will crumble the pages in my clumsiness.”
“You aren’t clumsy,” she declared, a little offended on his behalf. Robert was the least clumsy man she had ever met.
“My thanks for your defense.”
“You know, I saw a documentary once that said the great pyramids of Giza are exactly proportional to the radius and diameter of the Earth, which—contrary to popular belief—isn’t perfectly round. So exactly proportional, in fact, that it couldn’t have been a coincidence. Those pyramids were built at least as early as 2500 B.C., although some now argue they were built much earlier than that. And clearly astronomy played a huge role in the alignment of their structures, their calendar, and more. So it wouldn’t surprise me at all if Egyptians were hip to the heliocentric model early on. Did any of Alyssa’s scrolls, or whatever, by chance come from Africa? And, just in case you don’t call it Africa yet, Africa is sometimes called the Dark Continent and is the one located south of the Mediterranean. You might refer to Africans as Moors.”
All cockiness left him, along with the color that had managed to creep back into his features. His blue eyes widened. “Those scrolls and their origins have been very carefully guarded. How is it you know of them and of the place they originated?”
How did she know? She was as shocked by his knowledge as he was by hers. Though she couldn’t help but be delighted.
No wonder he was more open-minded and seemed more progressive than his peers.
Beth leaned forward and gave his knee a gentle pat. “I told you. Everyone who goes to school or watches the History Channel knows that in my time.”
Beth could almost see the thoughts racing through his mind as he scrambled for an explanation for her knowledge that would prove easier to digest than time travel.
What more could she say to convince him? What more could she do? She needed proof. Tangible proof.
She clapped a palm to her forehead. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this. My things!” Grabbing his hand, she jumped up and drew him over to the tapestry that hid the secret door.
Robert remained silent, still reeling from Beth’s revelations.
He held the tapestry aside for her as she passed through the doorway and into the narrow corridor that lay between his chamber and hers.
Dusty and ornamented with the wispy lace of countless cobwebs, the corridor was part of a maze of hidden passageways that afforded the lord’s family several possible exits should an enemy take the keep by force.
“What’s down there?” Beth pointed along the dark passageway.
Robert grimaced, thinking of the oubliette he had discovered down one of the lower passages. Wooden spikes—their points facing the ceiling—lined its floor in such numbers that anyone tossed inside from the trapdoor above would have no hopes of avoiding them. Skeletons of those who had been impaled upon them in the past now littered the floor like chalk. “You do not wish to know.”
“Enough said.”