A Stolen Season (2 page)

Nausea pooled in her throat. “We have to go home, Richard. I need this wound looked at and … ”

“What?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I don’t feel well. It’s not very nice being shot.”

Richard chuckled, walked over to a bag in the corner of the room, and shuffled the contents about inside. “I should imagine not. I think I have some morphine in here and a tetanus jab, also. Should be enough until we’re home tomorrow.”

Morphine sounded heavenly at the moment. A knock sounded at the door, and Richard allowed a wide-eyed maid to enter. With steady hands, she placed a steaming bowl of water and linens on a side table.

“Will ye be needing my assistance, Miss?” the young girl asked, her eyes stealing to Richard, then back to her.

“No. Thank you. I shall be fine on my own.” Sarah smiled and waited for the door to close before walking over to the water. She soaked a small cloth in the warm water, dabbed it against the wound, and washed the blood from her arm. The wound from the gunshot was surprisingly clean. It seemed the bullet had skimmed her skin and not entered it. A small mercy this night.

“Does it hurt?” Richard asked, flicking the morphine needle, the cap held between his teeth.

“Yes, so hurry up and give me the shot, you know I have a low pain threshold.”

Within moments, the ache faded and a warm fuzzy feeling settled over her mind. Sarah watched Richard fuss with her arm and bandage it. Then she slumped before the fire and stared at the flames that produced hardly any heat. What a mess she’d made of things. How was she ever to explain to her father?

“Are you good, then? I’ll see you in the morning if so.”

Sarah nodded. “I’ll be fine, Richard. The wound’s hardly bleeding at all, and I intend on going to bed before the morphine wears off.” Sarah paused, knowing she had one more confession this eve. “Richard, I lost the mapping device.”

He frowned. “You don’t have it?”

“I can’t find it. It was in my pocket, but it must have fallen out when I fell. I have no idea where it would be now.”

He came and sat across from her, two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Should we go back tomorrow and look? Do you think the earl’s brother knew what you had stolen?”

“No,” she said, standing and walking to the window to look out over the blackness illuminated at intervals by distant lightning. “Not yet at least. And with any luck the mud and rain has hidden the device, and all will be well. Well, at least,” she said, turning back to Richard, “until my father finds out what I did and the shit hits the fan.”

“Shit’s right, Sarah.” Richard paced the room, his footfalls loud in the small space. “This could be a disaster. Now they know the device is valuable, for whatever reason, and will keep it hidden.”

“That’s if they’re able to find it,” Sarah said, rubbing the bandage on her arm. “Let’s not worry about it now. We’ll be home tomorrow, and Father will tell us what to do.”

“That he certainly will. And let’s hope for our sakes he’s in a better mood than when he sent us here the first time.”

Sarah sighed and pulled back the woolen blankets and coarse linen sheets on her bed. “Don’t hold your breath, Richard. My father’s going to be furious. Not only have I lost a device that could blow the lid off TimeArch and all its secrets, I’ve changed the history of a family forever.”

• • •

Eric, now Lord Earnston, cursed and threw his flintlock to the ground. Pain seized his chest when he looked at his elder brother. Dead at his feet. His eyes narrowed as he watched the small female figure disappear into the shadowy forest that surrounded the Earnston estate.

He stumbled to his knees and allowed the rain to wash away tears shed for a brother who’d been his closest confidant. A man of honor about to start a new chapter of his life as a married man.

No longer. Thanks to the woman who’d snatched his future away.Eric ran a hand through his hair, wondering why his brother had followed the chit they’d found in the library at such breakneck speed.

With trembling fingers, he closed his brother’s eyes, sending a prayer to God.

The woman had stolen something. But what?

Eric whistled for his horse, who, as if sensing death, hung his head lower with every step it took toward him. Eric lifted his brother, not an easy feat considering his size, and laid him over the saddle.

At the sound of crunching under his boot, Eric bent down and frowned at the mud-soaked silver device beneath his feet. He rubbed it against his jacket and stared in amazement at the highly polished silver trinket.

A trinket his brother had treasured for reasons Eric could never fathom.

With another rolling boom of thunder, he mounted his horse and turned for home to announce the death of a much-loved brother, bury him, and see justice served on the wench who took his life. Then he would find out why the object was so valuable — and why his brother and the woman would risk their lives to possess it.

England 2012 – Reading

Sarah struggled to extricate herself from the restrictive nineteenth century costume, kicked it across the room, and slumped onto her bed. Their split-second journey through nearly two hundred years of time had left her exhausted and weak. Not to mention her injured arm ached like a son-of-a-bitch.

Sarah caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror across the room and cringed. She looked like she’d been punched in the nose, dark lines sat beneath blood shot eyes that drooped with tiredness. Her ebony hair hung lifeless about her shoulders and looked in need of a good wash.

The shrill jangling of the phone startled her. Her hand fumbled for her mobile and with a sense of dread, she recognized her father’s number.

“I want you at the TimeArch office in forty-five minutes.”

“Dad, I’m exhausted. Couldn’t it wait till tomorrow?” She already knew what his answer would be.

“The future of our organization is at stake, Sarah. The boardroom. Forty-five minutes.” Her mouth was open to respond, but the other end of the line was dead. He meant it this time — she’d really blown it.

It took her all of five minutes to throw on jeans and a white shirt, drag a comb through her hair, and shove her feet into a pair of shoes kicked haphazardly to the side of the front door. Within ten minutes her car was pulling out into mid-morning traffic, headed for TimeArch.

• • •

Six pairs of accusing eyes regarded her across the boardroom table. Her father’s eyes were dark with disappointment.

“Again, apologies, Father. I had the device and lost it when I fell off the horse. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Yes, and now it could turn up anywhere and at any time with a multitude of questions as to how a modern device could be found in the nineteenth century.” Harrison Rhodes gestured with his hands. “I trusted you and Richard to get the mapping device back, quickly and efficiently. And what do you do?” he said, sitting down and taking a sip of his water. “You both botched the job.”

“Don’t involve Richard in this, Father. It’s entirely my fault. Richard advised me not to attempt the theft. I went anyway.”

“Sarah,” warned Richard.

“Oh, don’t worry, Sarah. I blame you exclusively. Richard I blame for not having the balls to demand that you stay.”

Sarah looked across at Richard and guilt assailed her over her friend and fellow archaeologist getting sucked into the reprimand. “Well, I’ve stuffed up and it’s done now, so tell me what I can do to fix the problem. The last thing we need is the device turning up in the London Museum … ”

“What’s next indeed?” Her father frowned and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. A tall, robust man, her father often made the most confident of men quiver in their boots. Today it was Richard’s and her turn. “You’ll need to go back, procure the device, and return home. The earl’s family will be in mourning for twelve months. Because the new earl has the device, we will calculate your return for the end of the mourning period. Best not to throw you before the earl’s path too soon, considering the circumstances. We don’t want him recognizing you and having you charged for your atrocious mistake.”

“I didn’t mean to kill Lord William, Father. And I don’t appreciate you talking as if I did. I made an error that I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. You could at least show some support for me.” Sarah blinked back tears. Such a show of emotion was not appropriate in a boardroom.

“TimeArch and all its secrets could be exposed, Sarah. Such errors cannot be tolerated nor ignored just because you’re the boss’s daughter. You will both return and reside in London as brother and sister. We will make up a family name and title for you to use and I will give you the famous London Season to procure the device by any means available. Do not fail me again. Either of you,” her father said, meeting both Richard’s and her eyes.

Sarah watched her father depart and threw a pen across the table. “Why didn’t I listen to you? It’s all such a mess,” she said to Richard.

“Yes, but one we’ll fix. Don’t worry, we’ll get the device back.” Richard clasped her shoulder. “Now, I suggest you end your pity party and prepare yourself for nineteenth century London and all its trappings. The eighteen-eighteen Season awaits us.”

Sarah groaned.
Why not?
she thought. Her life couldn’t possibly get any worse.

• • •

London 1818 – Mayfair

“Well, this should be interesting.” Sarah glanced around the grand-proportioned room and tried to look the part of a somber debutante well past her prime at twenty-four years of age.

“Stop glaring at everyone and remember to smile. Like this,” Richard said, with a blatantly fake grin.

Sarah looked up at her fellow archaeologist and frowned. “We shouldn’t be here. We weren’t invited. I feel like everyone is looking at us.”

Richard chuckled as he moved them into the throng. “They are.”

After another jab at her side, Sarah plastered on the brightest smile she could muster. How ridiculous it was for her to even be here. She wasn’t trained for balls and parties. She’d be much more relaxed digging out ancient artifacts in a pit than in Mayfair’s ballrooms.

“This better be the right house. I don’t want to dress up like an innocent debutante for nothing.”

Richard paused, his gaze searching before walking on. “We’re in the Earl of Earnston’s home, and this is the yearly ball he holds to keep his mother satisfied. And from the reports your father received, he is the gentleman who harbors our electronic mapping device. And there he is.”

Sarah glanced over her shoulder to where Richard indicated and stilled. It was like looking at Lord William’s ghost. The darkest blue eyes she had never thought to see again looked about the room with a relaxed, studied air. The hairs on the back of Sarah’s neck rose, expecting at any moment the specter to point a finger at her and shout murderer for all to hear.

She took a calming breath and refused to give in to her ridiculous fear. Instead, she fully turned to absorb his every detail. The new Earl was also tall and athletic and oozed Old World charm. His dark brown hair was longer than the other gentlemen present and even from this distance Sarah could see he wasn’t a man to underestimate. “I forgot they were twins,” she said.

“Are they similar?” Richard asked, tugging her arm so she faced him.

“Very.”
Except this man is alive, virile, and altogether too handsome for his own good.

Richard cleared his throat. “You’re supposed to be a debutante, not a matron of the ton looking for her next dalliance. Perhaps you ought to not be so ‘pointed’ in your appreciation of the Earl; otherwise I’m worried he may go up in smoke.”

Sarah scoffed and turned back. “I just hadn’t expected him to be so good looking. His appearance was so different the last time I saw him.”

“You don’t think he’ll recognize you from the night you stole from them, do you? He did after all see you in the library with his brother before he shot you out on the road.”

“I don’t think so. I only saw him for a split second at both locations. I think we’ll be okay.” Sarah placed her arm through her supposed brother’s arm. “So, how am I to do this? You cannot introduce me because you’re not one of his acquaintances. His lordship must request such social introductions. And we know no one here to undertake such a deed.” Sarah looked up at Richard, who portrayed an air of nonchalance she knew went only skin-deep.

“Do you think you could catch his eye, and perhaps then he’ll request an introduction?” Richard handed her a glass of champagne. Sarah took a sip and visually retraced her path to Lord Earnston. He had disappeared.

“Where’s he gone? I can’t see him.”

“He’s near the terrace doors speaking to the dark beauty in the white gown,” Richard said, his voice deepening in appreciation.

“I’m the one here to get close to the Earl. The only thing I want you getting close to is the mapping device, so keep your eyes off the fillies waltzing before you, Richard.” Sarah shook her head. This was such a waste of time. Her expertise would be better spent back at her dig site in southern Italy. And yet, here she was at a nineteenth century London ball about to seduce a strange man, and all because they’d been sloppy with their work.

Not that it would be a hardship to seduce
this man
, but still it irked that her father would request she undertake such a dirty deed. If she had it to do over, she wouldn’t have killed the former earl. She would have bided her time to secure the mapping device as Richard had urged her.

She sighed.

“He’s looking about, Sarah. Start looking delectable.”

“Delectable, Richard? I think you’ve been living in this society for far too long. You’re starting to sound like them.”

Richard smiled and turned his gaze out to the throng. Sarah checked her gown and pulled her shoulders back to accentuate her figure. Her hair was coiled atop her head with a string of diamonds threaded throughout her dark locks. She wore no other jewellery but knew her emerald gown would accentuate the color of her eyes. Gentleman walking past smiled and nodded, their appreciative gazes almost salacious with intent.