Odette rolled her eyes. “That makes no sense.”
Odell leaned forward impatiently. “And it’s not going to. For this to make sense would take years of study and research. I’m trying to explain as best I can so you don’t think I’m a nutcase,” he finished a little angrily.
“Okay. I’m sorry. Go on.”
“It’s clear from the Theory of Relativity that we can move forward in time. But moving backward, into the past, was typically considered impossible.”
He picked up the salt shaker and methodically made three slim lines with the salt on the tablecloth. He used the butter knife to push the lines together in a few places so the whole thing looked something like beads on a necklace. At the intersections he swirled the salt into tiny whirlpools.
“Each line represents a place, or more correctly, a direction in time—past, present, and future. Let’s eliminate the future line.” He pushed it aside with the butter knife. “It’s not necessary for your understanding.”
He pointed at the remaining two. “That leaves us the past and the present. These two lines are typically independent from each other. But in some locations they come together, or more correctly, turn in on each other.” He indicated the intersecting spots. “These are places where time curves into itself.”
He looked up at her, and she raised her eyebrows. “Well,” he told her matter-of-factly, “I figured out how to find these intersections and access a temporal slipstream.”
“Temporal slipstream?” She hiccupped and grimaced.
He blew out his breath exasperated. “Odette, this is the best I can do. Without an understanding of Quantum Mechanics, String Theory, and two hundred years of knowledge before that, I can’t explain it to you completely. But it’s real. These crossings are something outside of time. Like another dimension. I call them Temporal Inter-dimensional Fluxes, TIFs for short. Because they aren’t stable, they’re always changing. With the proper calculations I can find a crossing or, more accurately, a spiral and use it to travel to the past and back to the present.”
“How do you make the calculations?”
“I built a machine, a computerized space-time machine. I call it a Temporatus. With it I can find a TIF and cross into another temporal slipstream to arrive at a specific time and place.”
“So you’ve traveled to the past?”
He nodded his head. “Twice.
“The first time…” he faltered and then drew in a deep breath. “The first time, Odette, was from a different present… a… a present where the American Agitators, or rather the Founding Fathers, succeeded in starting a revolution and winning. We should be sitting in the Empire State Building. In Manhattan. In New York State. In the United States of America.”
“Odell,” she barely whispered and looked around furtively. “The Americans were put down. Almost all of the Agitators were captured and hung.”
“No they weren’t. In the prime timeline, the real present, the American Revolution gave birth to a democratic movement that swept through Europe. France soon followed suit. You can’t imagine the profound effect it had on the world.”
Odette stared off into the distance and murmured, “ ‘We have it in our power to begin the world over again.’ ”
“What!”
“A quote by Thomas—”
“Paine! I know!” he whispered intensely. “But how do you know?”
She looked at him dazed. “I found some of his work in an old portable writing desk I bought at a street market a few years ago.” Her eyes came back into focus. “While refurbishing it, I sprung a lever and found a false bottom. There were several pamphlets and papers within. All of them written by Thomas Paine.”
“Good God! Where are they now?”
“I put them back in the desk. I figured they’d be safe there.” She grasped his hand fervently. “I’d never even heard of Thomas Paine. Every school kid learns about the American Agitators—traitors like Washington and Jefferson. But Paine… his writings… I could tell they were important. They left me breathless. But it’s like he never existed.”
“He existed alright. His words, like Jefferson’s, Adam’s, and Franklin’s gave voice to the revolution and much more.”
“Franklin?”
“Benjamin Franklin.”
She made a sound like a cross between a snort and a laugh. “Benjamin Franklin? The funny little inventor fellow? But he died long before the American Agitators.”
“He wasn’t supposed to. His death in London is what started this timeline. It’s part of what changed everything.”
A boisterous cheer from the partygoers interrupted them. Odette peered out from between the leaves of the potted plants and saw a group of elaborately dressed men and women sweep majestically into the room.
“It looks like the haut ton has decided to grace us with their presence,” she informed Odell sarcastically. “I can just make out the French Ambassador’s son, but I really can’t see anyone else.” She let the leaves fall back into place. “What kind of world did these revolutions create?”
“I won’t lie to you. It wasn’t a perfect world by far.” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “But it was a world of possibilities… a world of potential. Not this stagnant, wasted society we live in now.” He sneered in the direction of the frivolous aristocrats gathered around the bar.
“It gave men and women rights unheard of before. Monarchies and aristocracies were things of the past. The remnants of these structures hung on. But they were decorations… meaningless. They lacked any true power.”
“Democracy,” Odette quietly mouthed the outlawed word.
He nodded solemnly. “Yes, democracy. In all its messy glory.”
Odette swiveled her head around. “Where’s that blasted waiter? I want another drink.”
Odell pushed a glass of water toward her. “I need you with a clear head.”
“Oh my head’s clear, but it seems my wits are missing.”
He ducked his head to hide a smile. “Does that mean you believe me?”
She was distracted momentarily by the waiter. “Another shot of tequila, please.” Odette ignored his question and asked, “So how did you change all this?”
“Me?”
“I found you, Odell,” she replied firmly. “Do you remember what you kept asking me?” He shook his head. “ ‘What have I done?’ ” “ ‘What have I done?’ ” she repeated breathlessly.
He clenched his jaw and looked away. The waiter returned with Odette’s drink, which she quickly emptied. She then sat back and crossed her arms. “What did you do?”
“I’d published some of my findings in an obscure journal. I was an outsider. No one really took me seriously. I’d lost my place at the university and was trying to do independent research. But it was hard. I had no money and couldn’t get any grants.” He looked down at his hands and continued. “A man approached me. He said he could fund my research with money left over from a family trust. His only stipulation was to be the first to use my technology.” Odell took a sip of water and cleared his throat. “This man wanted to go back to a time when his family first lost their money and prestige. He wanted to change that so as to retain his social standing in the present.”
Odette’s mouth dropped open, and she released a little huff of air. “Drake.”
“I said you weren’t stupid.” Odell swallowed and shook his head ruefully. “I thought it was harmless enough. In my arrogance I believed I was in complete control. I had nothing holding me back… nothing grounding me.”
“Me.” Tears started in her eyes. “You had me.”
He looked away. “Nothing mattered but my work. I could only think of the recognition I would receive when we returned. I wanted to throw it all in the faces of those pompous professors who doubted me.” He laughed with bitter self-awareness. “I wanted mother to be proud of me.”
She looked intently into his eye. “Are you even my Odell?”
“I am.” He squeezed her hand s
o tightly she felt her bones crack.
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“I need your help. I need you to help make this right.”
Chapter 6
Odette wove her way gracefully between the couples on the dance floor. She was a lovely sight. Cara had worked a miracle in only two short days and produced a gown of exquisite beauty. It was made of sea-blue silk and cut low across the bosom in a shirred bandeau-like neckline. The sleeves were small and capped just off the shoulders. The bodice fitted to a place directly above the waist. It was the skirt, however, that drew looks of surprise and envy. Cara had eschewed the fashionable narrow skirt and transparent materials for a full, flowing silhouette. The blue silk was intercut with the softest of gauze to create a rippling effect when in motion. Hip-high slits throughout the skirt gave the tantalizing impression that a flash of bare leg was imminent. Men watched in vain for a glimpse of prohibited flesh that never came.
For Odette the beauty of the garment was superseded only by its comfort and the freedom of movement it afforded her. “I can’t accept this,” she said with little conviction as Cara fitted it to her slim frame. “Besides, I’ve nowhere to wear it.”
“Nonsense,” Cara mumbled through a mouthful of pins. She sat back on her heels and stuck the remaining pins in her wrist cushion. “I heard Janie tell some of the girls that Lady Adelphia Montagu was providing a late supper for the company at the Chelsea Hotel.”
“Yes, but I won’t be going. I’m meeting Odell after the performance. I think we may be dining elsewhere.”
“Even better. He’s sure to take you somewhere fashionable. I couldn’t buy better advertising than you in this dress.”
Always the astute businesswoman, Cara had been right. But it wasn’t the dress alone that caused a stir. More than one pair of eyes admired the woman in it.
Odette finally reached the Ladies Lounge and Powder Room. Fortunately it was empty. She leaned heavily against the wall and closed her eyes. Her mind was awhirl. Odell and tequila didn’t mix.
Odette walked over to the large vanity with its art deco mirror and sat down on a cushioned stool. She picked up a warm, moist towelette from the steamer rack and pressed it to her temples.
“Are you alright, Odette?
She looked up startled and was relieved to see Lady Amelia, the Duchess of Montagu’s youngest daughter, walking toward her. “I’m fine… perhaps just celebrating a little too much. Thank you.”
Amelia sat down next to her. She looked nothing like her mother. She was fragile and small-boned like her father, the Duke. He was a diminutive yet extremely powerful member of the peerage. He and Adelphia made an odd pair. But rumors were their marriage was quite the passionate affair. Odette hoped it was true. She would want nothing less for Adelphia.
“Father and I saw only the first act, but it was brilliant,” she enthused. “Mother was so very pleased.”
“I’m glad.”
“We had to leave at intermission.” She made a little face. “Frances Cartwright was throwing a soirée at the water gardens. You’d think with the entire gardens at our disposal it would have been tolerable, but it was a terrible squeeze.”
“Yes, I can imagine.” Odette hated chatting about the ton and their frivolities but didn’t want to offend Lady Amelia. “From what I understand Miss Cartwright is the Toast of the Season.”
“Oh, she is very beautiful.” Amelia looked around furtively and lowered her voice, “But not very nice.” She glanced at Odette’s pale face and blushed painfully. “How stupid of me! Why should you care? Mother always says it’s the height of conceit to think everyone’s interested in the doings of the nobility. You look done in. Shall I get you a glass of water?”
Seeing her embarrassment, Odette smiled and patted her hand. “Really, my lady, I’m fine. And I’m never averse to hearing some idle gossip.”
Amelia smiled back at her. “Well, it was such a crush that Frances got up a group of us and left her own party to come here.”
Ah, thought Odette, so that’s what had caused the stir earlier, Frances Cartwright and her set. Certainly the Beauty of the season would set tongues wagging wherever she went.
Odette stood up. “Thank you for keeping me company, but I must get back to my brother.”
Amelia stood as well. “Your brother is here? Dr. Odell Speex?”
Odette noted the sudden interest and smiled inwardly. “Why, yes. He brought me here to celebrate after the performance.”
“Oh.” She smiled tremulously. “I saw him speak last fall. He’s quite brilliant. But I’ve never met him.”
“Would you like me to introduce you? We are seated just across from the dance floor.”
“Oh no, I really shouldn’t intru—”
“It is no intrusion. I assure you.” Odette linked arms with the nervous young woman and exited the lounge.
They had barely gone five steps when a familiar broad chest blocked her path. “Odette, I think that dress is a code violation.”
She looked up the long length of the man in front of her and met the eyes of the Earl of Westchester. They were dark and heavily lashed. It appeared as if nature had gifted him natural eyeliner.
Really, a man this vile shouldn’t have such lovely eyes.
“I believe I’m showing far less skin than most of the women here.” She countered as lightly as she could. From the corner of her eye she saw Odell walking casually toward them.
Drake smiled seductively. “It’s not what you’re showing, but what we all expect to see at any moment and don’t… a brilliant, yet frustrating design. You must compliment your friend Miss Mills for me.”
“You are mistaken. This is an Emile LaRoche design.”
Real amusement lit his face. “Ah, right, a LaRoche.”
“Lord Westchester.” Odell stopped beside her and bowed slightly to the other man. “An unexpected pleasure.”
“Speex,” Drake replied in a clipped tone, nodding.
Odette hurriedly intervened. “Lady Amelia, this is my brother, Dr. Odell Speex. Odell, I would like to introduce you to Lady Amelia, the Duke and Duchess of Montagu’s youngest daughter. She heard you speak last fall and was interested in meeting you.”
Odell bowed over the hand of the delicate young woman who bobbed a nervous curtsy. “A pleasure, Lady Amelia. I believe I noted your attendance at my lecture to the Ladies Benevolence Society.”
Amelia blushed at his recognition but replied steadily, “Yes, I was there. I was very interested in your thesis regarding the impact of pollution on the poor. Father is very keen on finding a solution for cleaner energy.”
“I find that going to the source of the problem is more effective,” he replied mildly. “A solution to the grinding poverty visited on the majority would perhaps have a more far-reaching impact.”
A broad smile lit up her face. “My mother’s words exactly.”
“Well, Speex, no doubt you’ve a remedy to recommend,” Drake interjected. “In the meantime,” he said smoothly as he turned to Odette. “I see you are unarmed with food or beverage. I presume it is safe to ask you for this dance.” He was at his most charming.
She couldn’t refuse without making a scene. “Of course,” she replied and was immediately swept out onto the dance floor. His large hand rested on the small of her back, and Odette felt the heat of it radiate through the thin material of her dress. She looked up into his face and was surprised to see his eyes partially closed and his head tilted a little. He loves to dance and was unexpectedly good at it, she realized.
For such a large man he was very agile. He took each turn and intricacy of the dance gracefully. He guided her with ease and she felt herself bend toward him pulled closer by his gravitational force. Odette relaxed further into his arms. She was easily caught up in music and motion. Her neck was supple and swayed gracefully to the side. She glanced up at him through her lashes.
Caution lit up her brain. She saw it, that gleam in his eye, that spark of d
eceit and self-satisfaction. It was quickly extinguished, but she had seen it. How easy to assume he was what he appeared to be. A society playboy, a man overindulged by wealth and privilege, a spoiled, overgrown boy in need of a steadying hand.
Odell had described something much worse. A man consumed with his own ego. Lord Westchester was the last of an ancient and noble family, one that had succumbed over two hundred years ago to hubris and vice. They had gambled away their vast fortune and wasted their wealth on corruption and dissipation. For generations afterwards, they clung to the outer circle of the peerage ignoring snubs and grasping at the last vestige of their faded prestige.
He had come to Odell with the remains of a family trust bequeathed to him by a distant maiden aunt. Help me, he had said, help me regain my family’s wealth and standing. It had seemed simple enough—an easy test for his new technology. Seventeen fifty-seven was not a particularly notable year. Nothing of great consequence had happened. But it was the beginning of the end for the noble house of Drake. The fifth earl, Lord Westchester’s grandfather many times over, began what was to become a legendary debauchery and sowed the seeds of his family’s destruction. Charles Drake just wanted to intercede and, with foreknowledge, stop his ancestor from wasting what could be used for good and progress.
It was a lie on a grand scale. Drake had wanted more than just a return to wealth and privilege. He wanted revenge. Revenge on a young country that had done more than any heedless aristocrat to end his family’s dominance.
She shook her head and looked away. The air this close to him was stifling with masculinity. “Can we stop, please? I need a breath of air.”
It goes without saying that even on the eighty-second floor of the tallest building in New York City, Charles Drake knew of a secluded spot. Odette’s stomach gave a sickening lurch as he twirled her out between heavy drapes and onto an elaborate stone balcony perched high above the city. They stopped dancing, but he still held her close.
Odette Speex: Time Traitors Book 1 Page 5