by Gill, Tamara
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 souther
n 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.
Sarah’s gaze settled on her quarry, who regarded her with a quizzical brow from the back of the room. The lady hanging off his arm was chatting animatedly up at him. She was very pretty, probably his secret chère-amie.
Her eyes narrowed at the thought. The last thing Sarah needed was competition for this gentleman’s attention. She noted that although his suit was cut to perfection, he still had an air of ruggedness about him. Her attention strayed to his broad shoulders and up to his facial features. His mouth was sensual, his nose perfectly straight, but his eyes were dark and hooded and right at this moment locked on her.
Sarah swallowed but didn’t look away. Couldn’t, if she was truthful. Any wonder women of this era would fool around when an opportunity like this male specimen knocked on their doors. Sarah allowed her lips to spread into a shy smile and tried to hide her mortification when his lordship’s brow furrowed with what looked to be confusion and shock.
She tightened her grip on Richard’s arm. “I think I just made a faux-pas.”
Richard nodded to a passing couple, then turned his gaze on to Sarah. “Do I want to know what that is?”
Sarah noted out of the corner of her eye the earl cutting across the room toward them. “Let’s just say, I think I have his lordship’s attention. But perhaps not in a good way.”
Not until his lordship came to stand before them did Sarah look up and acknowledge his presence. He hadn’t looked as tall or as broad from a distance as he did now, hovering before her. Sarah’s stomach knotted, either from the nerves that assailed her or the desire he aroused within her. She supposed the answer depended on what came out of his mouth in the next moment.
“Pray, do I know you?” the earl asked.
It wasn’t desire.
Richard bowed. “I am Lord Richard Baxter, Baron Stanley, recently from Rome. This,” Richard said motioning toward her, “is my sister, Miss Sarah Baxter. We are new to town, arriving only yesterday in fact.”
“From Rome, you say.”
Sarah watched as the earl took in their clothing and Richard’s words. “I don’t recall your names on the invitation list. You understand this is a private ball.”
Richard blanched and laughed, the sound awkward even to Sarah’s ears. “I apologize, my lord, we did not know. We’ll leave immediately if you wish.”
Sarah noted the earl’s nod of agreement before Richard pulled her toward the closest exit. “Well, that went well,” Sarah said, trying to ignore the pointed stares of the haute ton around them.
Richard led her into a corridor, the entrance foyer just visible beyond the well-lit passage. “It did,” Richard replied, his steps sure.
“I was being sarcastic,” Sarah said, while she waited for her cloak.
“I know, but you’re wrong. The Earl of Earnston has seen you and duly taken note. He may have been indignant and annoyed by our uninvited presence at his ball, but I do believe he was quite the opposite when he took you in,” Richard said, thanking the footman.
“And will ensure I don’t grace any further balls this season, thus ending our search for the mapping device. How am I supposed to gain access to his homes, his friends’ homes, if he hates me? We should have made out I was your wife, looking to cuckold her husband.”
“Sarah, debutante or wife, you never intended to sleep with the guy.” Richard paused and met her gaze. “Did you?”
Their carriage pulled up before them, the horses stomping their feet in eagerness to be gone. Sarah climbed up and flopped onto the seat. “Of course not. But he doesn’t know that. It would have made my life a lot easier had he not thought me a pure little debutante out on her first season.”
“Well, either way, he knows of us, and his interest was piqued. And being told to leave a major ball of the season should work in our favor.”
Richard tapped the hood of the carriage and it started to rumble down the drive, the gravel loud under the wooden wheels.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Richard,” Sarah said.
“I imagine everyone will be talking of us and wishing to know who we are and why we were told to leave. Trust me when I say, come tomorrow, many a calling card and invitation will arrive on our door. And we’ll accept every outing until the Earl of Earnston is groveling at your feet and willing to bestow any gift for the honor of your presence.”
“The gift of a mapping device?” Sarah smiled and pulled off her gloves, not liking the strictures of nineteenth century fashion.
“Precisely. And then, my dear little sister, we can go home.”
“You have it all worked out, Richard dear. But you forget, the ton and their fickle ways will want nothing to do with us now that we’ve been slighted by a member of their set. For all your time traveling, I’m surprised I know something about this era that you do not.”
“You exaggerate. We will not be ostracized because we failed to be invited to a ball. People, for all their wealth, would not slight us for such a pathetic reason.”
Sarah shook her head. “They will, Richard, trust me on this. We may as well have given ourselves a case of the pox tonight. Nothing can help us now other than our wiles and ability to steal in the dead of night.”
“I don’t agree,” Richard said, a determined glint in his eye. “And we’ll not be doing any stealing, either. Look at how that turned out last time.”
Sarah beat back the cold shiver that ran down her spine. She needed no reminder.
• • •
Eric, Earl of Earnston, watched as the two uninvited visitors strolled through the multitude of guests and left his London establishment. He frowned and wondered how they’d gained entry since the footmen were supposed to check the invitations upon arrival.
He would have to have a word with his staff.
“She’s a handsome one. Why did you send her packing?”
Eric turned to Lord Mettleston, a boyhood friend and now his closest confidante since his brother’s passing. “They were not invited. Frankly, I have no idea who they are.”
Mettleston chuckled. “Rumor has it they’ve taken up residence in the old McKenzie place. You should know the London property as it’s the only one to rival your own in size.”
Eric ignored his friend’s smirk. It didn’t surprise him Mettleston knew of the couple and where they lived. He always knew the ins and outs of everyone’s business — what surprised Eric was that he did not. Since his brother’s early demise, London had become a frequent haunt, and not a lot got past him or his mother’s gossiping tongue. So to miss two new members of their set — supposedly — was quite unusual.
“Pray tell me where you received such news?”
Mettleston tapped his nose. “Ah, a gentleman never tells, my good man.”
“Lord Stanley, his name was,” Eric said, ignoring his friend�
�s goading. “A Baron from Rome.” Eric nodded to a passing acquaintance and sipped his whisky, a fine vintage from his Scottish estate. “Who ever heard of a Baron from Rome? Or for that matter, such a name?”
“Well, it seems they’re here to stay and looking for a foothold in society.” Mettleston paused. “Had you really not invited them? Perhaps your mother had without your knowing.”
“No, the final list passed my desk not a fortnight past. Their names were not on it.” Eric smiled as his favorite cousin Lady Anita strolled toward them. Dressed in a stunning silk gown of light blue, many an eye turned her way, the majority of them not female.
“Eric,” Lady Anita said, clasping his arm before tapping it with her fan. “I heard you sent a guest home. Is this true? Has my cousin lost all good manners on this wonderful eve?”
Eric inwardly groaned and glared at Mettleston’s chuckle. “Indeed I did. They were not invited, and I find their audacity highly disrespectful and vulgar.”
His cousin made an indelicate sound beside him. “Oh, come, you are too proud. I feel sorry for them being made to scuttle off like naughty schoolchildren. When I meet this mystery woman in the park tomorrow, I shall take her under my wing and prove you wrong about them. I’m sure they’re lovely, just not used to what’s ‘done’ in London society. Hidden away in Rome, it’s no small wonder their manners are a little lacking.”
“I forbid you to show a lack of manners to match those of that homebound couple, Anita.” Eric raised his brows at his cousin. “The Duke of Winters’s daughter should know better than to go galloping about Hyde Park introducing herself to strangers. Strangers who are not worthy of our acquaintance or trust. No one will invite them anywhere after their atrocious behavior tonight.”
“I shall, and nothing you say will deter me. The lady looked pleasant enough, and I’m sure I’ll be safe with Mama in the family carriage.”
Eric, knowing when he was defeated, sipped his whisky. When Anita was determined, there were few who could change the young woman’s mind. Stubborn as one of his Thoroughbreds.
“I believe there is a set after this waltz, Lady Anita. Tell me your card is not full and allow me the pleasure of the next two dances,” his friend chimed in.