The Bride Spy Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Why don’t I cal you Sir Knight?”
    He rubbed his chin in consideration. “Sir Knight.”
    “As in the Round Table,” she clarified.
    Christopher glanced at her. “That does have a nice ring to it. However, I wonder why not ‘King?’”
    “Because kings are general y lazy and make their knights do al the rescuing.”
    Nodding, apparently impressed with her observation, he smiled. A smile that melted Hannah’s soul. “Ah, you do have a point. So, if I am Sir Knight, are you my Guinevere?”
    “No.”
    “And why not?”
    Hannah blushed. “Because she was already taken and whol y unavailable.”
    He stared down at her, his eyes darker than before, and raised his hand to her cheek.
    Good God, elephants, please stop!

    He gently stroked his fingers down her face, and Hannah thought he might kiss her. Instead, he lowered his hand and clenched his fist at his side. “You’re freezing. Let’s get you inside.”
    She was grateful he couldn’t see her blush in the darkness.
    Although she didn’t want the moment to end, the cold seeped in to prove his statement true. As he laid his hand over hers settled in the crook of his arm, she tried to work out her confusion. She had a difficult time reconciling his gentleness with his possible nefarious intentions.
    Is he lulling me into a false sense of safety? Should I trust him?

    He escorted her into the house, this time through the front door, and as they passed the parlor, she noticed a newspaper sitting on a side table in the large foyer. The date on the top read November 18, 1863.
    Irritation warmed any frostbite threatening her body.
    “Okay, seriously, Christopher. I can appreciate the lengths you al seem to be going through to keep up with this ‘living in better days gone by’ thing, but don’t you think this might be a little heavy handed?”

    “Pardon?”
    She continued as though he hadn’t spoken, “Granted, I think it’s kind of creepy and twisted, but I have to applaud your level of detail, I suppose.”
    Christopher removed his gloves and laid them next to the newspaper. “Hannah, what are you talking about?”
    She slapped her hand on top of the paper. “Look, mate, leaving old newspapers lying around is a little over the top, don’t you think?”
    Christopher raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t cal it old. It’s certainly not out-of-date.”
    She pointed to the header with a snort. “Not out-of-date?”
    Christopher nodded. “Today is the twentieth, and that paper is from the eighteenth. I may have the one from today as wel .” He puckered his brow in thought. “I believe it’s in my father’s office.”
    Picking the newspaper up, she waved it at him.
    “Christopher, this paper is from 1863 .”
    “Yes.”
    She slapped it back down. “Funny, ha, ha.”

    Christopher stood in the middle of the foyer, staring at her as though she were slightly unstable. Hannah shook her head as bile rose in the back of her throat.
    I’m trapped. Is he going to kill me? Brainwash me? Make me stay here?

    The breath left her body. Literal y. She couldn’t breathe.
    He moved closer to her. “Hannah, are you al right?”
    Her lungs seized as she began to hyperventilate. “I have to get out of here.”
    Touching her shoulder gently, Christopher asked, “Why?
    What’s amiss?”
    “I need to get out of here.” She bolted out the front door.
    “Hannah!” he yel ed and went after her.
    Hannah made it al the way to the barn before she doubled over and vomited. Christopher caught up to her and laid his hand gently on her back. “Hannah?”
    Things started to register with her then. His strange speech, the strange clothes. She must be in a dream or a nightmare. None of this could be real.

    “What’s the date?” she whispered.
    “November 20,” he answered slowly.
    She squeezed her eyes shut. “And the year?”
    He stared at her.
    “The year, Christopher? What year do you think it is?” She was screaming now.
    “1863.”
    “No, no, no! That