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

glinted in the light.  
    “Where did you come by the trinket?”
    He shrugged. “Payment for helping the healer. She was in here moments ago.”
    Henry was aghast. “’Tis not chivalrous.”
    “I care not.” Antoine drank the rest of his ale; a bit dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, down his chin, and onto his tunic. “The witch cursed me.”
    “Do not jest.” Henry felt a chill go through the room. He looked around for enemies, catching the eye of his men. He saw them stiffen. He shook his head. He didn’t know what made him so nervous, only that he was. “In the woods earlier, did you throw her in the water?”
    “Nay.” Though Antoine looked guilty. “She said I would pay for stealing from her. I should have her beaten.”
    Henry spoke softly. “’Tis our duty to help those weaker than we. The healer is under my protection. You should not have demanded payment from her.”
    Henry picked up the necklace. He didn’t know why, but something about it made him want to touch it. It was made of gold. With an emerald, a diamond, a sapphire, and a gold charm in the shape of a horse with a horn? No, ’twas a unicorn.
    Antoine snatched it from his hand. “I need that to wager with, my friend.”
    Henry took Antoine’s wrist and squeezed, making him gasp. “Let go.”
    The arrogant idiot let go of the necklace. Henry took it as the others started to protest. He dropped a bag on the table, the heavy clink quelling their outrage. He opened it and withdrew several pieces of gold, much more than the necklace was worth.
    “This will suffice.”
    Everyone nodded. Satisfied, Henry tucked the necklace into the pouch at his waist. He could stand it no more—he strode out of the inn. He needed to walk. To clear his head before he started a fight. His brothers were always lecturing him on thinking first before acting.
    As he paced around the building, one of his men ran out, shouting, “Lord Ravenskirk, come quickly.”
    Henry sprinted inside. Antoine’s face turned from crimson to purple. Everyone watched, looks or horror upon their faces. The healer stood in front of the table, her long silver hair unbound, the purple cloak wrapped tightly around her.
    He pounded Antoine on the back. It was too late—the man fell headfirst into his plate.
    One of the men playing cards said, “He choked on a bone.”  
    Henry looked to the healer. She inclined her head to him and quietly made her way out of the inn. No one stopped her, though many crossed themselves as she passed. Had she truly cursed Antoine to die? No. Henry would not believe in curses. Antoine was a glutton. Anyone could choke on a bone and die.

    The next morning, Henry and the men set out from the inn in a somber mood, most of the men still feeling the effects of the ale from the night before. After riding a few hours, they stopped alongside a stream.
    Henry threw the reins to his squire. “I’m going to wash.”
    He hadn’t had time that morning. Wanted nothing more than to be on his way home. He felt the urge to hurry. As he cupped water in his hands to drink, he heard a noise. Henry looked up to see the healer. She had a basket over her arm filled with green things.
    He bowed. “Madam. My apologies.”
    She cocked her head at him. “For what, Lord Ravenskirk?”
    He opened the pouch at his waist and withdrew the necklace. “In the commotion last night, I failed to return this to you. I did not know Antoine demanded your necklace in payment for helping you. There was no payment required.”
    He reached toward her to give her the necklace and found he could not let go. The piece clenched tightly in his fist. For a moment he hesitated. The healer watched him, a smile on her face, and shook her head.
    “You will have need of it. Keep it close. For there is one who must have the necklace.”
    She leaned down to pick watercress growing at the edge of the stream. “The necklace will find its way back to me on its own when it is no longer