Page 20 of A Matter of Time
“Then we’ll bring ours along. We won’t reveal them unless it’s necessary, of course, but if he does dare to draw his, we’ll be prepared.” Richard placed the sword back into the finely crafted sheath, which Quinn had made of matching black leather with steel accents.
“Richard, there is one other thing I’d like to show you. Prior to working on the sword you now hold, I designed a matching dagger. I brought it with me, thinking you might like to have both.” Quinn drew a sheathed dagger from the inside pocket of his coat. “No pressure, of course. You don’t have to take it if you don’t need it or want it.” He smiled at Richard, as if he already knew what his response would be.
Palming the dagger, a warm smile spread across Richard’s face. Unsheathing the blade, he performed the same ritual he had completed with the sword.
“I can see that you’re smitten,” Quinn chuckled.
Nick stood up to investigate the dagger that had Richard so enthralled and whistled. “More fine work, Quinn.”
“What will you take for both pieces?” Richard asked. He wanted both sword and dagger, but wondered how he could possibly pay for them. He had none of the modern currency that would be required, a problem he’d overlooked until now.
“They’re already paid for,” Quinn answered.
“Impossible. I’ve given you no payment.” Richard was puzzled, looking back and forth between his friend and Quinn.
“I’ve paid for them out of the school’s funds,” Nick explained.
“The school’s funds? But why?” Richard didn’t think he could accept such a generous gift, especially since he knew that the school was Nick’s only source of income.
“Yer working with me to get the group ready fer competition. We never discussed what yer pay would be. Besides, what kind of instructor would ye be, without a sword and dagger of yer own?” Nick cocked an eyebrow at Richard and slapped him on the back.
“You are truly a far greater friend than I deserve,” Richard said, embarrassed to find himself a little misty eyed. He had plenty of coin from his own time, but that would do neither of them any good here. “I give you my word, I will work my hardest to see everyone at their best for the tournament.” Nick had told him there was a prize of $10,000, which would be awarded to the winning team and Richard was determined to do whatever was necessary, to ensure Nick won the prize money. It would go a long way towards repairing the roof at the practice space and replace the many worn items Richard had noticed.. He wouldn’t let his friend down.
Nick raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to luck!”
“To skill,” Richard corrected.
The cozy littlerestaurant was situated in an alleyway in the financial district. Angelina had agreed to meet Malcolm for drinks and dinner after he called her earlier in the day. It was obvious he had a thing for her, but up until this point, she had avoided his requests for dates. Tonight was different. She needed a distraction, something to help her stop thinking about Richard Jefford, and Malcolm Granger fit the bill. He was waiting for her outside the restaurant as she made her way down the alley, which was lit by dozens of tiny fairy lights reflecting off the wet pavement and giving the alley a romantic, golden glow.
“Angelina,” Malcolm greeted. “I’m so happy you could make it. You’re looking beautiful tonight.” He took her hand, and as was his habit, kissed her knuckles.
“Thank you, Malcolm.” There was no physical attraction there between Angelina and Malcolm. When he kissed her hand, no delicious tingles set off alarm bells, the way a mere glance from Richard did. Malcolm was safe. Nothing would happen between them, because Angelina wouldn’t allow it.
“I wish you had allowed me to send my car for you. I hate to see you out alone at night.” Malcolm opened the door and took her elbow, guiding her inside. The restaurant was dimly lit, a place for romantic liaisons. She hated to disappoint Malcolm, but there was no way she was going to find herself without a way home at the end of the night, and if it came right down to it, she’d be sure to tell him she’d rather keep their relationship platonic.
The maître d’ rushed over to them. “Mr. Granger, it’s good to see you! Your table is ready, right this way.” He led them all the way to the back of the restaurant and into a candlelit alcove, a cozy booth for two away from the prying eyes of the other diners. The maître d’ stood there for a moment or two, wringing his hands and clutching the menu to his chest.
“I’ll call you when we’re ready for dinner, in the meantime, please bring the wine I ordered when I booked.” Malcolm ignored the maître d’s bowing and scraping and turned his attention to Angelina. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes, thank you,” she lied. In fact, Angelina was feeling anything but comfortable under Malcolm’s intense scrutiny. “I had no idea this restaurant was here,” she said. “It’s very nice.”
“I like it. A little hideaway, tucked into an area most people wouldn’t even find accidentally. Privacy is of the utmost importance to me, Angelina.” His eyes probed hers and she squirmed, ill at ease with his fierce attention. “Ah, here’s our wine.”
The waiter poured them both a glass of the finest cabernet, obviously a bottle pre-approved by Malcolm. He raised his glass. “Shall we make a toast?”
Angelina nodded nervously, convinced this had been a very bad idea. She should never have agreed to meet Malcolm for a dinner date; it was becoming obvious now that he was interested in pursuing a relationship. She reluctantly raised her glass.
“To us,” Malcolm said. “And more particularly to you. I’m a lucky man to have garnered an evening alone with the beautiful Angelina Lawson.” He didn’t appear to notice Angelina’s reluctant smile, instead clinking his glass with hers and then sipping his wine. Angelina followed suit, resisting the urge to throw back the entire glass. Malcolm trailed a path across the back of her hand with his fingers, before she swiftly cleared her throat and pulled her hand away, pretending to adjust the napkin in her lap.
“How are things going in the world of medieval artifacts?” Angelina questioned, hoping to take his mind off her.
“Quite well. You know I always get what I want, one way or another,” he said, the double meaning obvious in his response. “I’ve recently been searching for a medieval sword, one that is said to have belonged to King James the Fourth.”
“You mean the Sword of State, gifted to the King by Pope Julius II.” Angelina was a medieval history buff, so she was confident this might be the sword he was referring to.
Malcolm eyed her with apparent surprise. “No, that sword is already recovered and in Scotland. As much as I might wish to add it to my collection, it would be difficult to obtain the weapon.”
“I should think so,” Angelina responded bluntly. “That sword belongs to the people of Scotland and is not for sale.”
