Odette walked past him and into the dimly lit dressing room. Closing the door behind her, she leaned back against it. She brought shaking hands to her face and tried to calm her breathing. She wasn’t made for this, for the lies and subterfuge. She didn’t love the Earl of Westchester. That she had strong feelings for him was undeniable. They just weren’t love.
Odette went over to a rack where an impressive array of women’s gowns and negligees hung. She chose one with a high neckline and long sleeves. The demure design, however, was cancelled out by the near transparency of the material. She looked at it in dismay, but it would have to do. She needed the sleeves in which to place the vial.
“I won’t ask you to kill him,” Odell had said.
“Thanks,” she responded sarcastically.
“But this should knock him out pretty good.” He held up the vial of clear liquid. “It’s odorless and tasteless. Serve him some wine. Make a toast or something.” He cleared his throat and flushed. “Whatever one does in these situations.”
She had been impatient with his anguished demeanor. “Good God, Odell, stop the tortured sighing. It’s not like you’re pimping me out to the entire peerage. He should be unconscious before I shed a single piece of clothing. Even so, I’ve slept with him before. It’s certainly not an ordeal.”
“Okay. Okay.” He had held up his hand in exquisite discomfort. “This is really more than I need to know.”
She found the bathroom and stood before the mirror. Odette pulled the vial from a hidden pocket in her skirt and propped it up against the sink top. She took off her evening gown and bent over to splash water on her face. She ran wet hands through her hair then reached for a towel. As she pulled it from the rack, the end of the towel flopped down over the faucet and knocked the vial into the sink.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Odette hissed intensely as she grabbed at the glass object sliding around the sink. Finally clutching the vial, she saw that the stopper was partially dislodged and half the mixture had spilled down the drain. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Bloody hell.”
She couldn’t put this into his drink now. What if he didn’t finish the wine? It might not be enough to knock him out. Odette tried to quiet her raging thoughts. She needed to do this now! There had been too many delays already.
Odette pressed her lips together in determination. She knew where to put the remaining liquid. Somewhere his mouth was sure to linger. She quickly discarded the negligee and chose another. One that was so fine and sheer it could pass through the center of a wedding band. She slipped it over her head and felt a thrill as the silky material clung to her slender frame.
Odette looked at herself in the mirror and straightened her shoulders. Drake thought he was getting the Snow Fairy, a fragile creature that would melt in his hands. She would show him something different.
The door clicked behind her as she entered the bedroom. She saw him in profile. Bent over the night table, he removed a cuff link. “Well, Odette, that took…” He drew in a sharp breath and slowly sat down on the bed.
“Come here.” His voice was firm and imposing, but she heard the catch of desire.
Odette cocked her head coyly to one side. “Tell me Drake, have you ever heard of the Raffen?”
He smiled. Her use of his surname was a sign of disrespect, a little act of rebellion. He didn’t mind. It added a measure of piquancy to their infrequent encounters. “No, Odette. What is the Raffen?”
“What are the Raffen?” she corrected him. “They are creatures from Ireland.”
He schooled his features into an expression of mock severity. “You must know that all things Irish are not to be spoken of.”
She pouted and lifted her lovely arms in front of her, bringing her wrists together. “Do you want to clap me in irons?”
His breathing quickened. “A tantalizing offer, but just now I prefer your hands free.”
Odette dropped her arms and walked slowly toward him. “The Raffen are very ugly creatures. But one night each year they take the form of a beautiful woman.” She slipped a thin strap from her shoulder. “On one such night a handsome prince saw this beautiful woman in the forest and fell instantly in love. He begged her to stay the night with him.”
Odette flatten her hands on her stomach and ran them down over her hips as if she were smoothing wrinkles from the fine material. “Now the Raffen are no prudes, but they exact a price for their favors.”
She slipped the other strap off her shoulder. With hands pressed to her breasts, she held up the gown. Drake’s eyes never left her face. “She would sleep with him, but only if he offered her a piece of his body for nourishment. And so he did, giving her a finger in return. The prince came back that same night every year to make love to the beautiful woman. Over time he left behind his fingers and toes, his hands and feet, his arms and legs, his eyes and ears, nose and lips.”
Odette leaned in close to him. Her breath tickled his ear. “Finally the night came when his courtiers carried him into the forest and left him on a bed of leaves. The beautiful woman came to him and they made love. Then she ate out his heart and left.”
The gown slipped from her body and pooled on the floor at her feet.
Chapter 9
Odell stood in the attic laboratory arguing with Cara. “Good God, Cara, this isn’t a game! You shouldn’t have followed me here.”
“A game!” she practically screeched, her Irish brogue broadening. “Your wee sister in the clutches of that bloodsucker and you say ’tis no game. What is it then? And what is this place?” She threw her arms wide to encompass the entire attic room.
Frustration gripped his throat, and he ran his hands through his hair. He did nothing right. He couldn’t keep anyone safe. “Listen, Cara, its best you don’t know. Nothing’s what it seems. But Odette and I have a plan—”
“What plan?”
“It’s too complicated to explain right now. But believe me when I say you are in danger just standing in this room. If Drake or the authorities were to come for me now, you would not be immune from their persecution.”
“Why would they come for you Odell? What have you done?”
Before he could answer, the hidden panel burst open and Odette came rushing in. She wore a heavy coat several sizes too big for her. The slippers on her feet were wet through and the fine, sheer material of a negligee peeped out just below the coat hem. She was windblown and out of breath.
Odell grasped her by the shoulders. “Do you have it?”
She lifted her hand. In it, dangling from a gold chain, was the crystal key. He crushed her in a bear hug. “So it worked? The drug worked?”
She looked at him uncomfortably. “Ah… Kinda.”
His face stilled. “Do I want to know?”
Odette looked at him doubtfully, but Cara interrupted, “I want to know. I’ve seen that jewel around Westchester neck. He takes it out at times and twirls it around his finger. It is said never to leave his person. How did you steal it?”
“I didn’t steal it!” Odette answered hotly. “I’ve just restored it to its rightful owner.”
Odell moved off a little way making adjustments to the tiny crystal computer.
“I had a drug to knock him unconscious,” she explained to Cara, “only I spilled half of it down the bathroom sink.”
She heard a faint groan from Odell, and continued defensively, “It was an accident. I was nervous.”
“So how did you get the jewel?” Cara asked impatiently.
Odette blushed. “Well, I couldn’t put the remainder in his drink. It would have been too diluted. And I wasn’t sure he would drink it all. So I…” She cleared her throat. “I put it where I knew he would get enough to knock him out.”
Cara looked at her puzzled and then opened her eyes wide. “You dabbed it somewhere on you! Where?”
“You know. I’m still in the room,” interjected Odell in a stifled voice.
Odette leaned in close to Cara and whispered, “My toes. Drake
has a thing for feet.”
They giggled a little wildly but sobered when a whoosh of cool, electrified air crackled around them. In the middle of the room stood the loveliest piece of machinery Odette had ever seen.
It looked like one of the new mechanized bicycles but only in the most superficial sense. Comparing this sleek beauty to the clunky motorized cycles that buzzed noisily around the city did not do it justice. The time machine was all one piece of smooth, shiny metal. The handlebars slid seamlessly into the body that bulged out on one side to allow for a sidecar. There were no wheels. The Temporatus stood on two long, low rectangular pedestals.
“It’s beautiful!” Odette breathed.
Odell beamed with pride and ran his hand possessively over the machine. “It’s made of super-ionized titanium alloy. Light, strong and corrosion resistant. There is nothing else like it in the world.” He pointed to the surface of the metal. “But what allows it to move without friction through the slipstream is the coating I embedded in the frame. It’s a plastic with a silicone surface. Something entirely new—”
“Christ! Odell! What are you talking about? What is this thing?” Cara’s face was pale, her eyes huge and panicked.
Odell walked over and put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “It’s a time machine and Odette and I are going to use it to restore the timeline.”
She blinked at him wide-eyed. “Wha—”
Before he could explain further, the hidden panel burst open for a second time that night to reveal a wounded Joseph Walker. His breathing was ragged, and he practically fell into the room. One hand gripped his shoulder. Blood leaked out from between his fingers.
“The Duchess has been arrested!” he gasped and dropped to his knees.
They ran to him and helped him to one of the armchairs near the fireplace.
“When?” demanded Odell, pulling off Joseph’s jacket and examining the wound. “You’ve been shot.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Joseph grimaced as Odette knelt and placed a folded handkerchief to his bloody shoulder. “It’s just a flesh wound, but it hurts like hell.”
He leaned back breathing through gritted teeth. “It happened about an hour ago. She came here, to the theater, after the gala. Miss Delphie and Mr. Atwood went over the pledges for support. Then I picked her up and took her home.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Inquisition Storm Troopers kicked in the door. The Duke tried to stop them. They just pushed him out of the way. Like he was a bloody nobody!”
“An hour ago.” Odette looked at her brother. “That would be about the time I left Drake.”
“You’re sure he was out.”
“Like a light. There’s no way I could’ve gotten the key otherwise.”
“Then it was planned before. He knew we were up to something. There must’ve been standing orders to arrest us after the gala.”
Odette stood abruptly. “But why not me? He must know we’re after the Temporatus. Why even risk being with me?”
“He can’t help himself,” Cara answered. “He loves you.”
Odette stiffened and her expression turned stony. The answer to her question was suddenly clear in her mind. “No. He doesn’t love anyone. I’m just the entertainment. He fully expected to find me next to him in the morning. He wanted to see my face when I got the news that my brother and patroness had been arrested. The cake…” She smiled grimly. “No, he doesn’t forgive. He wanted to teach me a lesson. It never once crossed his mind that I was a threat to him.”
“A good thing it didn’t,” Odell responded tersely and crossed the room to a large wardrobe. “We can’t expect her to hold out against the Inquisition. They’ll find this place.” He reached in the wardrobe and pulled out a large rucksack. “How much time do you think we have, Joseph?”
“Not much,” he answered. “They saw me running from the stable. That’s when I was shot.”
As if on cue, a blast of sirens cut through the night. The occupants of the attic heard the rumble of steam-powered coaches speeding down the street. Soon the Storm Troopers would enter the theater. It wouldn’t take long for them to find their hideout.
“A change of plans,” Odell said calmly and swung the rucksack into the sidecar of the Temporatus. He reached over and took Cara by the arms. “Cara, no questions, just listen. When this machine leaves here it will go back to eighteenth-century London. If the plot to change history is thwarted, this reality will cease to exist the instant the Temporatus disappears from this room. However, if the plot is successful, the Storm Troopers will burst through that panel and arrest whoever is in this room.”
Cara closed her eyes and nodded.
“The Temporatus can take only two people. You have to go with Odette and help her. Even if your efforts fail, you may be safe in the past. Here, is only certain death.”
Odette stood pale and shaky. “Odell, I can’t do this without you.”
“Yes, you can. I know you. You’re brave and resourceful.” He walked with her to the Temporatus. “In there.” He indicated the sidecar with the rucksack. “Is all the information I could gather. Some notes on how I thought we should proceed and the money. I’ve set the Temporatus to deposit you right where you’ll be able to find help. It’s an inn. The man there—”
They heard the splinter of wood and glass as the Storm Troopers forced their way into the theater. Odell got no further as Odette threw her arms around her brother and held him tight. “I love you.”
He put her a little away from him. His hands rested on her shoulders. “You’ll be arriving several months before Drake and I get there. When you see me…” He struggled with his breathing. “I’ll be a different man. It may take some convincing—”
The sound of boots pounding up the stairs stopped his words. He pushed her onto the Temporatus. “Go! Now!”
She settled quickly onto the seat, and Cara scrambled ungracefully into the sidecar.
Odell stepped back next to the armchair where Joseph slumped. He pressed a button on the crystalline key and the Temporatus whirled to life. Odette felt the surge of power beneath her, and the light brightened around them. She was holding onto the handlebars and felt Cara’s hand clutch convulsively at her coat.
The whining sound pierced her eardrums, and the light grew until it nearly blinded her. Odette saw booted feet shatter the wooden panel. The next instant they would be gone. She looked at Odell.
“I love you too.” The never-before-made declaration was said in Odell’s usual calm, rational voice.
The very last thing Odette saw was her brother drop the crystal key to the floor and crush it beneath his heel.
Chapter 10
Not Quite London, Late March 1757
Busy hostlers, their coat collars turned up against the freezing wind, were taking the large, horse-drawn traveling coaches from the street toward the warm glow of the Whistling Pig and its stables. If any of them had turned to look down the darkened street behind, they might have seen something amazing. That is if they could have credited it as real and not shaken it off as a trick of light occasioned by icy eyelashes and cold tears.
There was a soft shimmering glow out of which took shape what looked like a statue of a figure seated on a very strange mount indeed. Then the glow dimmed into darkness and as one figure dismounted, another seemed to spring up beside it. And the mount, just disappeared.
“Where did it go?” cried Cara, holding the rucksack she had just detached from an apparently no longer existent Temporatus.
“It’s still there,” said Odette, her voice shaking as her body shook with the cold. She had once been told that a great coat over a thin dress was never sufficient for warmth in freezing weather. To be clothed in several layers was the only way, no matter how un-chic the effect. She was living the truth of that bit of advice.
“What?’
“Odell set it to park in another dimension.”
“Another what?”
“Another dimension. It’s not here physically
so no one can bump into it. Odell said this was better than trying to find places to hide it, because you never knew when there would be people around and that sort of thing sticks out. Actually we traveled the timeline in that other dimension, and the machine could have just put us here without leaving it, but we’re traveling with luggage.” She indicated the rucksack. “And that made it awkward. Odell said it was a glitch he hadn’t quite worked out.”
“I don’t understand any of that,” said Cara in a thin plaintive voice. “I think I’m going mad.”
“Well, I know I’m freezing. Look up the street where the lights are. I think that’s a coaching inn.”
“A coaching inn! I haven’t seen one of those since I was a wee lass.”
“Odell said something about there being someone who would help us at an inn. He said he would put us close to it.”
It was up the street a ways, a blaze of light and activity. But it was close enough. No matter how tightly she tried to hold the coat closed at her neck, the cold fingers of the wind found their way down the inevitable little gaps. How she longed for a warm scarf. And boots! The cold filtered up through thin slippers under the coat. And the flimsy fabric of the negligee practically served as a conductor spreading the freezing air to her entire body.
As they walked toward the inn, the wind whipped up and started blowing sleet. Cara groaned. Odette looked at her friend and noticed that she too appeared bedraggled and miserable lugging that rucksack with stiff hands. The rucksack! Odette stopped her before they stepped into the circle of light and bustle that was the inn’s courtyard.
“Cara, can you hide the rucksack under your coat?”
“Why?”
“Odell said there was gold in it.”
“This is an inn.”
“Yes, and we are two women traveling alone. I remember reading that highway men and thieves lurked around coaching inns like this to scout out the wealthiest travelers to rob. We don’t need to give the impression of being worth the trouble.”
Odette had expected curious looks from the travelers and staff, but she hadn’t anticipated the almost immediate appearance of two bulky figures blocking The Whistling Pig’s doorway before they had even quite reached it. One was a man in a greatcoat and knee breeches, a tricorn hat, with a swelling belly, a belligerent expression and, most alarmingly, holding a wicked looking wooden truncheon. He stood at the bottom of the stoop. Above him stood a woman of almost the same size glaring at them with the same level of belligerence.
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