Another book in the exciting, best-selling time-travel romance series, Knights in Time.
While horseback riding in the English countryside, sisters, Electra and Emily Crippen find themselves trapped in a tear in time. Thrown back to 1357 England and caught by a local noble, they are in a place that is home but as frightening and unfamiliar as an alien world would be. With no idea how the tear in time came about, the one thing they do know is: they must stay together and stay near to where the event took place in hopes of discovering the way back to their modern life. That certain need to stay together is the first certainty taken from them when one sister is forced to remain in England and one is sent miles away to Wales by royal order.
There is one other hope for help the sisters don’t know exists. It’s Electra’s lover, Roger Marchand. A time traveler himself, he never told her of his past. When he realizes what has happened to the sisters, he enlists the help of a scientist friend to help him open the suspected passageway through time. Any effort to save Electra and Emily will likely cost him his life. This was the time Roger came from, a time when his country, France, was at war with England. If he is discovered on English soil while searching for the sisters, he will either be killed or taken prisoner of war. Any risk is worth saving the life of the woman he loves.
They walked at a fast pace for fifteen minutes. They came to where a service road built during World War II intersected with the Old Roman Road. Instead mature oaks and alder dotted what should’ve been the single-lane service road. Gone too was the old sign indicating the direction of the wartime airfield abandoned in 1946.
“I’m afraid, El. Nothing is what or where it should be. Things are the same but different.”
“I’m afraid too. I don’t understand any of this. Like you said, it’s all the same in the main, but the details are all wrong. It’s as though we’re part of an artist’s rendition of this place, but he erased Roger and the horses, and the picnic part. Instead he drew in foliage and kept us.”
Emily tried her cell phone again with no luck. “Maybe we should wait here. I’m certain Roger will come for us. He’s probably already headed this way. Don’t you think?”
Electra didn’t want to tell her what she feared. She had no idea what was happening to them or what they needed to do, but in her heart, she feared if he was coming, he’d be there by now.
“No, I don’t think he’s on the way,” Electra said, truthfully. Emily would figure it out soon enough. “I don’t see how staying in one place is better than keeping on toward the house.”
“And if your imaginary artist erased the house?”
“Then we’ll workout our next move.”
They continued on to where Esme and Stephen’s house stood or should’ve stood. Their cottage dated back to Tudor times as did the stable and other outbuildings. They’d survived hellacious storms, German bombs, and natural decay for 500 years.
The sisters froze at the sight. None of the buildings were there, only short stone fences sectioning off various sheep pastures that occupied the land.
While she ate, the button on Electra’s sleeve fell out of the frog loop. She didn’t hook the button again, reaching for her wine instead. The sleeve pulled back from her wrist to expose her watch, which she hadn’t thought to remove.
“What is that?” Simon asked and pointed to her Seiko.
“A watch.” What a bizarre question. There wasn’t a corner of the planet that people didn’t recognize a wristwatch.
A frown slowly formed and he stretched across Emily and took hold of Electra’s hand to tug it toward him for a better look. He turned her hand over and in a matter of seconds had the clasp undone.
He brought the candle in front of his trencher closer and held the watch under it. “What do the numbers mean?”
“It’s a clock, a miniature timepiece you wear on your wrist.”
From his expression, the explanation puzzled him. “Do they not have candle clocks in this Greenland you claim you’re from?”
How to explain the abundance of various clocks to a man who apparently has no context for the anything beyond a candle clock or similar ancient means of telling time?
“Are you saying you’ve never seen a clock?” Emily asked.
“One like this? No, I have not.”
Emily bent her head nearer Electra and whispered, “Are you thinking what I am?”
Simon ran his finger over the watch face. “These small digits, what is their meaning?”
“It’s the date and year: 5.14.15.”
He shook his head. “What year is 15?”
“2015, of course.”
“You are mad. It’s the year of our Lord, 1357.”