Free Return of the Rose by Theresa Ragan

she walked off she could hear them arguing.
    “Why did you let her go? I promised Hugo I would not let her through the gates unescorted,” Jacob said.
    “His lordship ordered that she be allowed to roam free at all times,” the other man argued. “Let her go.”
    “She will not be safe.”
    “‘Tis not our concern.”
    Lord Vanguard had told her straight out to stay put. Why then, Morgan wondered, had he told the guard to let her pass? When she was far enough away, she gazed back at Braddock. The castle wasn’t crumbling and faded like castles she’d seen in the history books. Nor was the castle as colorful and illuminating as depicted in modern films. Braddock was bold and dynamic, bespeaking power, like its master.
    As she continued her walk, her thoughts turned to her conversation with Matti. She thought of Derek as a boy, frightened and alone, wanting nothing more than to be held in his mother’s arms. Maybe Lord Vanguard was just a lonely soul like herself. He sure wasn’t as ferocious as everybody liked to think. His kisses were proof of that. Or maybe she was just making too much out of a few kisses.
    Somberly she wondered what her mother was doing now. She missed their morning talks over coffee and even her mother’s constant meddling. At the age of eighteen, she had moved to an apartment of her own, but her mother had been lonely and had begged her to move back home and save her money instead. As a dark shadow of a hawk swept across the path overhead, she glanced upward in time to see a man lunging from the higher branches of a tree.
    She screamed, but the man clamped a hand over her mouth. She bit down as hard as she could.
    “Bloody hell, woman!” He jerked his hand back and peered disbelieving at the teeth marks embedded in his palm. “‘Tis me, Robert!”
    Her eyes widened at the mention of his name. She took a good look at the young man, noting his scarlet cape and green tights. He must be Amanda’s lover, the man Odelia had mentioned on more than one occasion.
    “I’m sorry,” she said gesturing toward his wounded hand, “but you scared me. I thought you were Robin Hood!”
    “‘Twould seem my enthusiasm at seeing you has caused me to act foolishly. I should have warned you first of my presence.” His apologetic expression turned to a look of perplexity. “Pray tell, who is Robin Hood?”
    “A legendary English man in tights who steals from the rich and gives to the poor.”
    “I have not heard of him.”
    “It’s not important,” she said, “but I think he dates back to the 1300s. Does the ‘Sheriff of Nottingham’ ring any bells?”
    “Why is it that you can no longer speak properly?” he asked.
    “Because I’m not who you think. I’m not Amanda.”
    He stepped closer and took her hand in his. “You are lovely even when you are babbling nonsensical rubbish. Being away from you this past year has only served to make my love for you grow stronger. I have missed you.” Swiftly and without notice, he drew her snug against his chest and held her tight.
    Who did the men in this century think they were? And why couldn’t Amanda’s lover see that she wasn’t Amanda at all? More discouraged than ever, she pushed away from him. The hurt she saw in his eyes almost made her feel sorry for him.
    “Amanda, what has happened? What has that depraved man done to you? I need to know.”
    “You must listen to me, Robert. I’m not who you think I am. I’ve heard about the love you and Amanda have for each other. That’s why you need to find her. She’s probably out there somewhere waiting for you.”
    He hardly flinched at the sincerity of her words. She was beginning to see the hopelessness of convincing him or anyone else of her cataclysmic experience. “My name is Morgan Hayes,” she said wearily, “and I’m from another time…the year 2011.”
    “We both know you are an atrocious liar.” A smile tugged at his lips and his hands fell to her shoulders. “You listen to me