“Stop fidgeting!” Abella chastised me for probably the twentieth time that day, watching me stand at the window as she sat in her chair with some needlework. “Staring out the window won’t tell you anything and you know it.”

Frowning, I glanced at her, hating she was right. However, I wasn’t feeling sick today and I was ready to find out some news.

It had been two and a half weeks since Tristan left with a ship full of Templar Knights, bound for England and Thomas Randall. Abella and I had stayed at Court as the king requested, making excuses for my husband’s absence and being as charming as possible, until it was time to come home. I’d expected to hear immediately what was going on, but not a word had been spoken to me about the mission from anyone. Abella still remained in the dark as to what was really going on, but she knew it was something important and dangerous. Each night, she lit a candle for him and put it in the window, a soft prayer leaving her lips. I was more grateful for that than I could ever have expressed.

After spending all of that time together, never parting except to sleep, we’d become the fast friends I’d hoped for. She was younger, but matched my age mentally, and I soon found myself regarding her as a kind of sister. We would help each other dress now and decide what to do for the day together.

Yesterday had been a very nasty case of morning sickness. There was no denying it now—I was pregnant. All of the symptoms were there, which I was grateful for. It gave me comfort to know that my body was still going through a wonderful change.

But Tristan had not come home.

Had something gone wrong in London? It wasn’t that far away, so I didn’t think the time was being spent traveling. Was he hurt? Had Thomas gotten away and they were chasing him? All these questions and more swirled through my mind day in and day out. But, today would be different.

“Do you want to go to the market with me?” I asked Abella, moving from the window. “Tristan took me to a nice one at the old Temple before. I’d like to look at some of their stuff again.”

“Are you feeling well enough to go?” She spoke skeptically, giving me the once over. “You could hardly stand yesterday.”

“Fit as a fiddle,” I replied, smiling. Truthfully, I did feel somewhat worn out from being so sick, but I desperately wanted news of what was going on. If the Order wouldn’t come to tell me, I would go drag it out of them.

She thought it over for a moment, looking at me like a mother would a small child, and then nodded, putting her work aside. “Fine, but we’re taking the carriage. I’ll go let them know we want to go out.”

“Wonderful!” Clapping my hands together, I tried to reign in my excitement. Hopefully, the news I wanted was good.

The city passed in a blur as we rode to the Temple, my mind on the secret entrance to the Order’s headquarters. Tristan had tapped a special sequence on the wall, but could I remember it?

Finally, we arrived at our destination and I set out, slowly passing each cart and examining their wares. When we came to the table I recognized from before, there was a different man, who smiled and asked if I’d like to see any of the silks he had for sale.

“Actually, I believe there is a painting inside that my husband is interested in,” I replied, unable to remember the rhythm I needed. “Could I possibly see that?”

“Of course, Madame,” he said cordially. “Please, look all you want.”

Frustrated with myself, I went into the back room, making a beeline for the hidden door. Tapping on it, I waited for it to open, but nothing happened. As I’d suspected, I needed the code to get it.

Abella, who was watching with mild curiosity, raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. “Shopping?” She may have sounded miffed, but she was smiling, catching on that there was something more here. “Anything else you need to inspect?”

“No.” Pushing past her, I went back outside to the booth tender, smiling as nicely as possible. “I need to get inside,” I said under my breath.

Confusion flashed in his eyes, his brow furrowing. “You were just inside.”

“Not inside the shop, inside the Temple,” I whispered furiously.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, Madame.”

“Oh, good grief!” Throwing my hands up, I turned around, shaking my head. He obviously wasn’t my way in.

And that’s when I saw him.

He was standing at the gate, watching me evenly, a smile on his face, his long black hair concealing some of his features. He looked dirty and ragged, like a beggar, the hat on his head full of holes, but Thomas Randall’s face was one I would have known anywhere.

The world stopped spinning in that instant, everything zooming in to focus on just him, the thud of my heart ringing in my ears. It was as if the breath I desperately needed to live was stuck inside me, my throat closing tightly under the scrutiny of his gaze. Then, with a pop, it all went back to normal, my mind imagining the sound of his boots crunching through the gravel as he started toward me.

“Abella,” I said sharply, grabbing her by the wrist as she stood beside me. “We’re leaving. Now.”

There was no way out of the courtyard except for the gate he hovered in front of. If we were going to escape, we would have to go right past him and into the city.

“Is something wrong?” Abella asked in alarm as I practically dragged her across the ground.

I couldn’t even answer her. The wrong man had returned to me, the villain instead of the hero. Where was Tristan? What did I do? Fear tore at my entire being; both for the man I loved and myself. There wasn’t any time to stop and think things through, though. It was time to pick fight or flight, and I was ready to run for my life.

There was another man I recognized already in the Temple courtyard, his hat pulled low over his face. Panic threatened to overtake me, but I shoved it down, instead relying on the adrenaline I felt underneath it.

“We can’t take the carriage back to the house,” I told her quietly, slowing as we approached the gate. “Someone is watching us. Randall.”

Her eyes grew wide and I felt her step falter before she pressed forward with renewed vigor. “Monsieur O’Rourke?”

“I don’t know,” I replied evenly, trying not to cry. “We don’t have time to find out now.”

Looking back toward the table I knew was ran by the Order, I wondered why the Templars weren’t pouring out to take control of their enemy. Had they not realized who he was? I couldn’t exactly scream for help, not when no one was attacking me. Everyone would think I was crazy, Randall would run, and I wasn’t willing to get close enough to him to let him touch even a millimeter of me.

Going back to the exit in front of us, I spied a cart getting ready to pass through from the other side. Timing it just right, we slipped through as it blocked us from the pirate’s view, hurrying down the street in the opposite direction of home. The streets were packed and hard to maneuver—a blessing in our time of need.

“We have to lose them in the crowd,” I explained quickly. “Stay right with me. We’re going to run now.”

To her credit, Abella didn’t even look faint at the prospect. Her jaw set tightly as she nodded, her hands grabbing her skirts out of the way as we both increased our speed, darting down the street.

People yelled at us as we passed, bumping into them without apologizing. Rude gestures were flung our way, but I couldn’t even care. My chest felt like it was ready to explode from being overworked, but my fear led me on, my feet slapping against the cobblestone roads mercilessly.

Ducking under an archway and onto the path on the other side, I looked over my shoulder, a scream lodged in my throat. Randall was still there, his face stony as he shoved a man pulling a wagon to the ground, knocking the items that were being transported into the street. Despite the raucous he made, his eyes never seemed to leave me, their darkness reaching out and touching me with icy fingers.

Trembling, I turned my attention back to my own route, taking Abella’s hand and moving in the opposite direction we’d been heading. Slipping some, we shoved through a crowd of people watching a street performer, ignoring the exclamations of indignation and anger still. My feet were begging for me to stop, my fancy shoes flapping helplessly against my heels with every step.

Desperately, I tried to think of where we could go that would be safe. Home would have been preferable—a safe house, under the protection and care of the Order—but I didn’t want to lead Randall and his men there. The door wouldn’t hold them long and we needed to get word to someone we needed help.

Tall houses and shops all melded into one as we continued on, gasping for air, sprinting away from those who would harm us. The streets seemed never ending, our flight taking us down whatever path emerged in front of us. It felt like we’d been fleeing for hours, my body crying out for rest. Frustrated by my own lack of strength, I pushed on, trying to ignore the red color of Abella’s face as she too struggled. The fine food and sedimentary lifestyle of living among royals had made us groggy and slow. In that moment, I would have given anything to be in the shape I’d earned during my time as a pirate. The months sailing from Oak Isle and spent trying to be a proper lady had softened me too much; I didn’t even know if I could win a fight against Randall again.

Daring to look back once more, I barely caught sight of the horrid hat Randall was wearing. It turned every which way, frozen in a sea of people. Relief coursed through me at the sight—he’d lost our trail.

Slipping down a side alley, I persisted in driving the two of us at full speed, wanting to capitalize on our newfound disappearance. Practically carrying her down the street, we passed through another part of the old city wall, the river visible ahead of us.

“Stop!” she gasped. “I can’t run any longer.”

Collapsing against the side of the building, I nodded, chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. It felt a little like I was going to throw up from all the exertion, my face covered in sweat. The bones of my corset were poking into me painfully, my skirt torn near the bottom. Abella looked much the same, dirt covering her hem, her cherry-colored skin covered in a sheen of moisture.

“There,” I said, the sound barely a whisper in my dry mouth. Pointing to another alley between buildings, I stood up straight, basically dragging my feet across the ground until we were safely concealed in the space.

Staring out over the crowd, I felt another wave of relief. Randall was nowhere to be seen. Wanting to make sure we’d truly lost him, I scanned the area for another half hour, feeling secure in our hiding spot. All I saw were the normal city folk, though, going about their business. We’d lost the pirate at last.

“Come on,” I croaked, stepping out from our hiding spot and into the mass. “Let’s go home.”

“I know a shortcut,” she said wearily, fanning herself with her hand. “I’ll show you.”

Finally, bodies aching, we made it back to our house, halfway wondering if we’d imagined the whole thing. The façade was as welcoming as ever, smoke curling from the chimney and bright flowers in the windows. It was as if we hadn’t even spent the last little while scared for our lives.

Swallowing hard, I looked both ways down the street, noting how much emptier it was than the paths we’d just traveled.

“Get inside, quickly,” I urged her. “Lock all the doors and windows.”

Nodding, she dashed through the doorway, almost knocking over the cook in the process.

“Come inside, we’re in danger,” I said quickly, helping the woman up. “All of the doors and windows must be locked.”

Within seconds, the whole house was locked down and I found myself sitting at the window I’d been so eager to peer through that morning. Now I feared what I would see on the other side.

Minutes slipped into hours, the sun setting and darkness covering the street outside. Closing the curtains, I dared to hope that we had truly lost the Black Knights and were safe.

Thomas Randall didn’t give up easily, though.

Abella sat at attention beside me, her hands clasped in her lap as she anticipated some kind of sign that everything was okay. “Should we send for someone?” Her voice was tired and soft, but the fear I still felt was there in her tone.

“The carriage driver will have noticed that we disappeared,” I replied, hopeful. “Someone will come. I don’t want to send anyone out, not when they could be hurt.”

Silence stretched between us once more. Exhausted from our run, I felt my eyes drooping, my head nodding slightly as I drifted off to sleep, unaware that I was even slipping away.

It was the crash that woke the both of us. We’d fallen asleep in our chairs, waiting for something to happen, and now that moment was finally here. Several bumps and muffled shouts reached our ears as I shut and locked the bedroom door.

“What do they want with us?” she asked, trembling, her face white.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, I shook her hard, getting her full attention and looking her straight in the eye. “They’re coming for me,” I said evenly, having put the pieces together as I’d sat expecting them. “Tristan is a member of the Knights Templar. He’s either been sent on a false mission, or he’s been captured or—” The word stuck in my throat, but I forced it out anyway. “Killed. It was all a trap to get him away from me.”

Her eyes were wide and filled with misunderstanding, but I didn’t have time to tell her delicately.

“I’m from the future. I know things no one else does and they want me to tell them those things.”

Her eyes grew even larger, if that was at all possible, and her mouth popped open, but no words came out.

“Hide in the dresser,” I told her, shoving her toward the giant piece of furniture. “They don’t want you. Hide and after we’re gone, run to the Temple and tell them what happened. Shout it into the night if you have to. Do you understand?”

Stunned, she stumbled toward her designated hiding place, ripping the doors open and climbing inside. I’d just shut her in when the banging on the door started.

“I know you’re in there,” Thomas Randall’s voice sneered, my hair standing on end. “Open up, Sam. This doesn’t have to be difficult.”

“Like hell,” I muttered, grabbing the gun that Tristan had hidden under the mattress. I shoved it in the pocket of my dress, pressing myself against the curtains.

Suddenly, the wood splintered and the entrance flew open, revealing a gang of cutthroats and murders. Randall stood in front, smiling, a pistol aimed right at me. His expression was triumphant, excited even as our eyes met. In the time since I’d last seen him, he had changed clothes, his form now covered in threads fit for a sea captain. A long, red coat hung around him, a gun belt slung across his shoulder. His hair had been tied and braided, leaving his face clear and open for all to see. “We meet again,” he said smoothly, stepping into the space.

“It’s not my pleasure, I promise,” I snarled in return.

“Come now,” he scolded me. “There’s no need to be rude.”

The man behind him caught my attention for a split second, and I recognized his face as the driver who had taken us to the Temple that morning. My stomach clenched at the sight. Tristan had been right; I shouldn’t have trusted anyone just because they were part of the Order. Anger washed over me at the betrayal and I looked back at Randall, giving him a half smile.

“Of course there is.” In a flash, I had the blunderbuss out, aimed, and fired, missing Randall and dropping the driver to the floor. Chaos erupted in front of me, the group lunging forward and grabbing at me, but I was determined to not go down without a fight.

Clawing at the eyes of the closest man, I kicked out at another, shouting as I was knocked off my feet. With the weapon in my hand, I clubbed Randall over the head, desperate to put at least some distance between the group and myself.

There were too many hands, too many feet kicking me. In fear, I tried to roll away and protect my stomach, but had the wind knocked out of me first. They were dragging me away, my screams and curses echoing off the walls as I fought tooth and nail, tears streaming down my face from pain.

Across the room, the wardrobe doors flew open and Abella launched herself on the closest man, pulling his hair and biting his hands, shrieking as she foolishly tried to help me.

“Abella, no!” I shouted, but it was too late.

The smoke was curling from Randall’s gun, the barrel pointed in her direction. She went limp, sliding to the floor as a red stain stretched over her chest. The sound of the fired shot rang in my ears, blocking out everything else.

“No!” I cried, over and over again as they picked me up, carrying me away. “Abella! She needs help! Abella!”

They hauled me down the stairs, quickly tying my hands together and shoving a cloth in my mouth. Outside, a large chest waited. When they threw me inside, I felt like I was going to pass out from lack of air. All I could see was Abella, collapsed on the floor, her blood seeping into everything.

My baby. Was it okay?

Crying, I tried to assess the damage to my midriff. I’d been kicked a few times, maybe even had a broken rib. But I didn’t know if my baby was alive or dead.

Head knocking against the wooden cell, I tried to calm my nerves and assess what was happening. Every time I felt like I might be able to relax some and think, though, I was jostled violently, knocked around like a sack of potatoes. After the third time, I began to think they were doing it on purpose. The fourth fall left me seeing stars and I would have bitten my tongue badly if it weren’t for the gag in my mouth. Finally, though, I recognized the gentle sway of water and realized we were on a boat. The thought gave me some calm, knowing we were on our way out of the city and toward the seaport, where I assumed they’d place me on their galleon, or whatever type of ship they had.

The pirates either weren’t speaking, or the box was incredibly sound proof. Eventually, I was lulled into a dreamless sleep, waiting for whatever was going to happen next. It seemed like an entire lifetime passed before I was suddenly hoisted up again, my trunk swaying every which way before it finally landed on a wooden floor with a loud clunk. There were voices now. I could hear them. Why hadn’t I been able to before? Someone was pushing me across the floor, which I soon realized to be the deck of a ship.

So, we had arrived. Now my only question was if I got to come out or not.

“You there!”

Randall’s voice shot out in the din and I flinched, my heart starting to race again.

“Yes, Captain?”

“You were assisting the last doctor on board before he died. I’m promoting you to surgeon. Come with me.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Again, I was lifted up and carried somewhere else. It was like a guessing game, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Set it down there,” Randall ordered. “Carefully. You’ve had your fun. Now get out, both of you.”

Footsteps shuffled away and I held my breath, waiting for something to happen.

“I want you to take care of what’s inside this chest,” Randall said evenly. “If it dies, so do you. Do you understand?”

There was a brief hesitation before the man finally agreed, his voice sounding somewhat strained.

“Good,” Randall said. “Get to work.”

More footsteps went out of the room, leaving me in silence once more. Suddenly, the chest began to rattle, the lid creaking open.

Fearful, I tried to pull back as far as I could, blinking in the light at the shadow looming over me now. The man sucked in sharply, freezing for a second.

“Oh my god!” He removed the gag from my mouth and I coughed, eyes watering as I sucked in a good, deep breath.

“Sammy?” he asked tentatively.

It was then that I saw whom I was talking to, my eyes fully adjusting and shock almost knocking me out again.

“Mark?”