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By: Kimberley Comeaux

A ray of light broke through the thick fog of deep sleep. A frown marred Kristy's brow as she flung her arms over to shield her eyes. The light didn't diminish, however, it grew, and got brighter and brighter. This time she grabbed for the sheet and pulled it over her head.

Something wasn't right. The frown she sported deepened. From under the covers she slowly opened her heavy lids and blinked a couple of times to clear them.

Light? Why was there light coming threw her bedroom? Her bedroom window faced west and she had heavy drapes that shut out the light. Her eyes then adjusted to the lightweight sheet hovering over her face. White? Her sheets weren't white. Not solid white anyway. HER sheets had flowers and colorful ribbons running through them. And this mattress…it was most definitely NOT her waterbed!

With a jolt she sprang upright, knocking the sheet away. And what her blue eyes net with totally left her in a state of shock and unbelief. A loud gasp escaped her lips as she took in her alien surroundings. Her first thought was, I've been kidnapped and taken to…a museum?!

Large looming antiques were everywhere. The bed looked like it came right out of some gothic movie. It had a towering canopy and the heavy velvet drapes were pulled back and tied at the post. Tapestry's adorned the walls. And a large trunk was sitting in the corner with it's lid open and resting against the wall. It seemed to be filled with garments made of rich lavish colors and materials.

Her heart was beating ninety miles a minute. The shock was now beginning to wear off and fear and panic took it's place.

"Dear Lord, where am I?" she whispered to herself.

"You are in England, my child."

Another gasp sounded from her as she turned her head to her left and found a man standing beside her bed, completely clothed in ivory robes. Her hand moved to grasp at the neck of her gown. She noticed that the gown wasn't her own.

"What do you want from me? Why did you bring me here?"

A gentle smile lit the pleasant face and a hand lifted, palm up, to her. "Please do not be alarmed. You are quite safe. I will not hurt you," his warm voice smoothed.

She felt herself being lured in by that voice and immediately starting resisting. "Just please tell me where I am and why I am here. And who are you?"

Still ever so calm, he answered her. "As I said before, child, you are in England. Twelfth century England to be exact." He noticed an eyebrow raised at that information. She didn't believe him. He went on. "And as for who I am…My name is Jubal. Am what you'd call your guardian angel."

This was no time for jokes! "And I'm Cinderella, and with a wave of you magic wand you are going to turn my pumpkin into a coach!" she snapped, sarcastically.

Jubal frowned. "No, my dear. I believe that Cinderella had a fairy godmother not an…"

"Oh, whatever! I do have a brain, you know. If you think that I'm going to believe all this mambo jumbo, then you're looney tunes!"

He patiently waited till she ended her little speech and replied still wearing that insufferable angelic smile, "Do you not remember your wish?"

She suddenly grew cold, "My...my wish?"

"You made a wish, last night. You wished you could be someone else and be someone’s wife, if I not mistaken." And his smile assured that he never was.

"This is a dream. I must be having a dream!" She placed her hands on her forehead as if trying to understand what was happening to her and squeezed her eyes tight.

Enough is enough, she thought, and jumped from the bed and ran to the window. "This is NOT England," she replied crisply as she reached the opening, "We are still in New … Oh my gosh...." Her voice drifted off, once more she was in a state of utter disbelief. For there stretched before her was a countryside she had never before seen, and saw crude buildings and great stone walls that she was sure had never graced U. S. soil. People dressed in dull pheasant— like clothing milled about.

Then she saw, coming down through the gates, were two magnificent black horses unlike anything she’d ever seen. But what was even more incredulous was what the horses carried.

They were knights, dressed in what looked like metal chains, and elaborately draped in gray material trimmed in gold, no less, carrying a large flag like banner made of the same material, bearing what looked like an image of a great eagle in flight.

Kristy lifted her eyes to look beyond the knights, and gasped at what they encountered. Never, in her whole career, in working with some of the most stunning men in the world, had she ever seen such a man as this.

Unlike the two who rode before him, he wore no helmet on his exquisite head, but rather left those dark tresses bare for all to behold. He sat proud and erect on his silk draped stallion, which also bore the colors of gray and gold. And neither was his body clothed with the metals as the others, but instead was outfitted in layers of what, looked like over long shirts, made of silk, and over his shoulders was fastened a long flowing mantle made of velvet. At his waist was attached a sword, that Kristy could swear was pure gold. On his large muscular legs, he wore some sort of hose or stockings that hid nothing and accented everything.

She allowed her eyes to finally roam up his beautiful body to the face she had only glanced upon before. A concerned look creased her brow and she couldn’t understand was why his expression on his face bothered her so. He was most certainly handsome, but his fine features were granite hard, unfeeling, uncaring…without hope.

A moving sound came from behind, causing her to startle. A blush colored her cheeks when she realized that she’d been standing at that darn stone window like some sort of moonstruck teenager!

But all that her eyes had met had told her the bone—chilling truth. The man was right. This was definitely NOT New York.

A chill ran through her thinly clad body and she felt herself shaking uncontrollably. She felt the man hands on her arms and found them strangely comforting. "Please...Please tell me this is a dream."

"I’m afraid it’s not."

"Why...why this wish, I’ve wished on stars, hundreds of/f times. I even wished .my sister would turn into a puppy … one time when I was mad at her, but you didn’t honor that wish. Why this one?" She could feel herself bordering on the brink of hysterics.

"Because the person’s place that you have taken, also wished the same thing. Christiana of Cranbrook is now in New York in your apartment, but hasn’t yet realized what has happen. She’s still sleeping."

She turned to look at him, confusion darkened her blue eyes. "How can we trade places? The people who know Christiana will take one look at me and know I’m not her and the same thing about her. For goodness sakes, people all over the world know what I look like."

"Look at this," he said gently as he pushed a miniature painting in her palm.

Her breath caught in her chest and her eyes widen with astonishment. "It’s me."

"It’s Christiana." he corrected. "You two are nearly identical. That’s why I could honor both your wishes."

"1 think I need to sit down." she wavered as she grasp the arm of what would have been an expensive antique chair in her day, and sank down in it.

"Will I ever get to go back?" she asked as everything started sinking in.

"I cannot tell you the exact day, but there will come a time when you will be given the choice to remain or leave. If just one of you wants to return then the other must also return."

"But I want to return, now! And I can’t sit here and believe that once Christiana realizes where she is she’ll want the same thing," she quickly replied, grasping at any shred of hope she could find.

"You must both give your granted wishes a chance. As I said before you will be given a chance to return, later. But right now, you must make the most of what’s been given to you. You will receive what you have wished for." There was something in his voice that reassured her and put her to ease despite the incredible circumstances. But then she remembered her whole wish, her concern returned.

"I ask to be a wife. Is Christiana married, because if she is, how could I possibly...with her husband…he would surely know!" Her cheeks grew red at that unholy thought.

"No, no. But she is betrothed. It’s a marriage that has been arranged by King Richard, himself. The man has just recently come into his earldom and the king thought that with this new responsibility he needed a wife and therefore an heir. And if he ever found out that you’re not the true Christiana, I doubt it will matter much to him, at least at first. He’s marrying only because the king has ordered it and also because he desires an heir."

"How barbaric! And you expect me to take her place and marry this stranger? No thanks!" she stood to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It will not be as bad as it seems, after all love can change any man. And besides, your husband-to-be is an earl of the king and knight of the realm. He intentionally failed to mention he was also the most feared, but knew she would come to realize that soon enough. "He is Darian Maxwell. Earl of Greystone."

For one delirious moment she felt a shiver of excitement at the mention of his name. But shrugged it off as being part of the shock she was still experiencing.

She sighed and looked up at Jubal. Then she asked him the question she was positive she didn’t want to know. "Did Christiana make that wish because she didn’t want to marry Darien?"

Jubal relented, "Yes."

"There must have been a good reason, then, for her to want out of it so bad that she wanted to be someone else!"

"You and Christiana may look alike, but your in many ways different. She has been pampered in her twenty years, after all she is the earl’s only child. She’s a sweet girl, just rather…spoiled," he said carefully. "She didn’t relished giving up her independence. And when she realized that her father could not be talked out of the marriage, she was devastated. She knew that life with Darien would mean the end to her carefree life."

"End?" Kristy asked, trying to comprehend what he was trying to tell her. "What kind of a man is he?"

"He’s the kind of man who needs a strong woman like yourself. You see, Kristy, you have a talent for seeing people as they are on the inside and not what they appear to be. You can be a great help to Darian. He needs you but its going to take time before he will realize it."

This whole thing was getting complicated. "I’m not here just because two desperate women made a hasty wish, am I. I’m here because you’re also looking after Darian’s well being." He nodded and they sat there in silence.

"So…when does this marriage take place?"

For the first time since she’d been in his presence, Jubel actually hesitated over his next words. "Well…today."

"Today?" she shrieked. "Today? I can’t even have time to get adjusted to this time frame? You are just going to suddenly thrust me into a marriage with this Darian the Barbarian, and expect me to be happy over it?" She was sure now she had reached hysteria.

"Please, we must get down to details. We have very little time left."

Feeling nothing but numbness, she allowed him to lead her back to her seat and sit her down in a crude looking chair. He then placed a chair in front of her and sat down. "Now, your father is William, Lord of Cranbrook. You mother, however, passed away when you were quite young and you need not have to remember much about her. You call you father, Papa. Your ladies maid is called Nan and the rest doesn’t matter. Christiana never paid much attention to them anyway." He studied the parchment he held in his hands. "Oh, yes. You must refer to your fiancé when you greet him today as ‘my lord’. After you are married then I’m sure he’ll set the tone as to what you’ll be calling one another. And that is going to be all I’ll be able to tell you because, in just a few moments, Christiana will awaken and I must be there." He got up and then went to another trunk that lay beside the bed and retrieved some sort of leather covered bundles.

"These are Christiana’s journals. She was quite specific in her writings of everyday life and I assure you they’ll be quite a help to you in the future, as your own journals will prove the same for her. And of course I took the liberty of putting it into modern English writing for you. You would not be able to understand much of the medieval writings." He handed the volumes to her and she instinctively hug them to her as if they were a life source.

"I will appear to you from time to time when I think it necessary so don’t be alarmed when I do." He took her hand and gave it a fatherly squeeze and whispered. "Take care," and before she could blink, he had vanished.

"Jubal! Jubal come back!" she cried. She carelessly toss the journals on the bed and looked anxiously around the room trying to find him. Of course, it proved fruitless. Hadn’t he just disappeared before her very eyes? "Jubal..." she whimpered helplessly to the air.

She frantically glanced about the room and wondered how in the world was she supposed to handle this. Running her hand through her long tresses she paced the stone floor, trying to formulate a game plan in her head. There just had to be away out of this, but how? It wasn’t as if she could hope on a plane and head back for New York. When it didn’t even exist, yet!

She wanted to cry and just when she decided that she had a darn, good reason to do so, a pleasantly plump lady, dressed like a servant came bustling through, pushing back the huge wooden bedroom doors.

Kristy, who was standing at the foot of the bed, froze. And a wide—eyed look of fear entered her eyes. The woman looked up about that time and returned the same look, but quickly relax and smiled. She dropped a quick curtsy and greeted, "Milady! Oh but you gave me a fright!" She set the tray that she held on a nearby table and gave her a knowing smile. "I’ve never known you to be up so early before, course it’s not everyday a lady gets married, now is it." The woman who Kristy now assumed must be Nan, stepped behind a panel adorn with tapestry and brought out a beautiful gown of ivory silk and laid it out on the bed and started brushing out the wrinkles.

Realizing she hadn’t said a word she rushed out, "No! Please, you’ve got to help me. I need to speak to Lord William. I’m not who you think I am. There’s been a crazy mistake…you must believe me."

Nan looked at her mistress with hands on hips and a look much like an ever patient mother would wear with her over active child. "Now, my lady, I was afraid you’d try some sort of foolery, this morning, and I must admit, claiming your someone else is quite imaginative, but it’ll not work! And that is a very clever accent you’ve mimicked, I’ve never heard the likes of it before." She poured some sort of liquid into a silver cup and held it out to her. "Now, drink a little of this, my lady, and we must make haste to ready you for your wedding."

Kristy found herself gulping down the liquid and grimaced once she had emptied the small cup. "Jeez, this is awful. What is it?"

Nan once again looked patiently at her and answered. "You know that is my tea made of herb, my lady, you drink it every morn."

"Look, I really have to talk to Lord William. This wedding today cannot take place until I can trade places with Christiana. Please, won’t you listen..." But she could see her words were making no impact. Eyeing the open door to the chamber she decided on a course of action.

"Is Lor...I mean my father in his chamber on this wing?" she asked innocently.

"Yes, he is, but he is not to be disturbed. You shall meet him shortly in the hall with your bride groom."

With a triumphant smile she flew to the door and after quickly scanning the hallway, she decided the lord of the castle’s chambers would definitely be behind the biggest set of doors.

As she padded rapidly down the hallway. She heard Nan’s distraught voice calling after her. "Lady Christiana, you are not properly dress... .Oh, don’t go in there....

It took every ounce of her nervous strength to push open the huge wooden door and when she finally accomplished it, she barged in through the opening and right into a massive chest cloaked in soft leather.

"Good God, Christiana! What the devil are you about, in such a state of undress!" the voice that belonged to the large body barked. She then felt two grips of steel enclose about her shoulders, pushing her back to face him.

"I...uh...I.." she stammered helplessly. If she hadn’t been so shocked she would have probably been scared clean out of her wits! The face that glared down at her was that of a man in his late forties or early fifties. Gray hair streaked through his ebony locks that matched the strong arched brows that loomed over the angry crystal blue eyes. His features were stormy and his lips set in a grim line. And at 5’ 11’ she was not used to having to look so high up to meet a man’s face. She was positive he must be at least 6’3"or 4" and his body was large, not with excess fat, but with hard bulging muscles that one would not expect from a man of his age.

Feeling relieved that she had indeed entered the right chamber, she quickly found her tongue. "Please, sir, I have something important to tell you. I’m not your dau…

He quickly released his hold on her and interrupted, throwing his hands on the sides of his head, "Deliver me, Lord, from such play acting!" he sighed, closing his eyes as if in prayer. "Who in Heaven’s name has an accent such as this! Surely you can do better than that, Christiana!" he exclaimed mockingly as he shook his head and eyed her skeptically.

Kristy floundered a bit. Wasn’t anybody going to listen? "I’m not your daughter!" she shouted at him. But instead of showing concern or alarm the great bear of a man just stood there and laughed! She then did a completely childish thing and stomped her foot in anger. This, of course, only made him laugh louder. "I’m telling you the truth."

Lord William wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and chuckled as he spoke, "Oh, my dear, but you do come up with the most amusing antics! So please finish your story! How is it, then, that you are not my daughter, this morn."

Taking a deep breath, Kristy fought to bring her ire under control. "Sir, I am telling you the truth. I am from the twentieth century. Last night I made a wish on a star that I would become someone else. Your daughter made the same wish as I. A guardian angel named Jubal decided to intervene and granted our wishes. We look exactly alike, so that is why … Please sir! This is NOT a laughing matter!"

By now the baron was doubled over with laughter. He held out his hand helplessly in a plea for her to stop. "Oh please, no more! This, I must admit, is the most outrageous of your tales." He finally brought himself under control but his eyes still danced on his attractive face as he regarded his daughter.

Kristy realized she was getting nowhere. Shoot! It even sounded unbelievable to her own ears and she was the one living in this bizarre nightmare!

She found herself being turned around towards the door and given a gentle push. "Now make haste to your chambers, milady, and ready yourself for your bridegroom. And no more walking the halls in your state of dress!" he called after her as she walked dejectedly back to Christiana’s chamber.

Now what? It didn’t look like anybody in this uncivilized century was going to believe her. And no wonder! This Christiana, whose place she had taken, must have been the Katherine Hepburn of her day!

Nan was waiting for her, nervously wringing her hands and behind her appeared two other servant girls who looked to be about her own age. They ushered her once again into the room and began to ready her for this terrible event that she wasn’t so sure, now, that she’d be able to stop.