by Dawn Brower
“Have you discovered who had Edward killed?”
It was her last remaining mission, and the one reason she was still ensconced in the cottage on the boarder of Calais. Her mouth tightened at his question. Her gaze bore into him with determination shining through. The corners of her lips tilted into an almost maniacal grin. “I’m close.” She rubbed her hands together. “In fact, I believe that we might be looking for the same person.”
He lifted a brow. “Oh?” Was it possible her villain was the same as his? It might make sense in a twisted sort of way. To abduct the sister of the man he’d killed. Dom was aware the man had no conscience. He had a plan and had no qualms of eliminating someone to see it through. “What have you learned?”
She strolled over to a nearby chaise and sat. She tapped her fingers lightly on the arm. “I learned what they call him. The name should be recognizable to you. The information Branterberry sent me told me the moniker he goes by.”
It had to be the same person. A muscle in his jaw clenched. He couldn’t wait to catch the bastard and make him pay. It appeared as if Le Cerveau had a lot to answer for—and not just his treasonous activities. He owed the Kendall family a great deal. He snatched Rosanna from the comforts of her home.
“What makes you believe Le Cerveau is the same man as the one who murdered the previous Duke of Weston?” She was good at ferreting out information, but Dom knew better than to not question any of it. “Someone could be pushing you in the wrong direction.”
The corners of her mouth tilted upward. “So like you to doubt me.” She tilted her hand up nonchalantly. “Don’t worry. I don’t blame you, even when your argument drove Edward to Weston earlier than planned. He might not have gone so soon or died for his recklessness. We might have married and had a life together.” Her smile fell from her face. “I envy his brother and his wife—Alys, is it? They have the life I believed I would one day. Edward and I had so many plans...” Her eyes glazed over as she stared off in space. “I guess some things are meant to be. I can’t go back and change yesterday, but I promise you I’ll make sure that the bastard who took Edward from me will pay for it. I would not leave any of this to chance. I know my information is correct. There is no way I’m going to allow someone else to deprive me of my justice—or revenge. To me they are one and the same.”
Dom was more than aware of her dedication to the cause. She wanted to make the man pay for murdering Edward. It had been her motivation from the onset. She’d become a spy willingly before the war was in its final stages. Some of the information she’d gathered aided in the capture of Napoleon, but no matter how much she searched, the true culprit for breaking her heart remained elusive.
A part of him felt he owed something to her. He had argued with Edward. The man had been reckless and Dom believed he owed it to James to warn his brother of the path he was heading down. He’d wanted to play a part in the war effort. Edward’s jealousy of James had driven him there. He’d wanted to enlist and do something productive to defeat Napoleon. So he’d decided the best way to do so was become a spy—something Dom was already fully embroiled in. Dom didn’t play at it though. It had become an integral part of his life—second nature. Edward hadn’t had a clue what he was doing.
“I believe you think you know it all, but we all know surprises jump out at us when we least expect it.” Dom didn’t want her to leap into a situation only to regret it later. Edward no doubt lamented his own actions once he realized he was about to die. “Lady Callista,” he said. “Don’t do something foolish.”
She turned to stare into his eyes. “I never do anything rashly. I consider all options and then take the route guaranteed to bring out a successful outcome.” Her lips tilted up. “In this case, it will be the downfall of one very evil man.”
There wasn’t much else he could do. It was, in some ways, very similar to what had happened with Edward on that fateful night. He hadn’t been willing to listen to reason either. He could only pray she didn’t come to a similar end. The countess would decide how she handled the situation for herself. He couldn’t hold himself responsible for her actions. The blame wasn’t his to own. He already carried too much guilt.
“I’m all for bringing about the down fall of Le Cerveau,” he said softly. “I’ll even aid you in that effort. We need to locate Rosanna first. She needs us to rescue her. Do you think you can set aside your revenge long enough to see to her safety first?”
She rubbed her hand over her heart as if easing some ache deep inside of her. “Sometimes I wish I could go back and change things. Most days, I wish I’d never met Edward and I wouldn’t feel this unending pain that constantly stabs me. It doesn’t go away no matter what I do, and I fear it never will. But there is no turning back the clock. Our yesterdays have already been written, but tomorrow,” she said with determination, “is mine to write, and I promise you I’ll end up the victor.” Lady Callista’s gaze fixed on his. She studied him intently for a few quiet moments, and then slowly nodded. “I don’t’ want to be responsible for anything terrible happening to Edward’s sister. I always liked Lady Rosanna. She was a sweet girl.”
It was all he could ask for. Lady Callista had as much at stake in this endeavor as he did. The only difference was the woman he loved was still very much alive, and Edward had died over three years past. There was no turning back time to bring him back. The love of her life had no future to see to, he’d been robbed of that opportunity, along with the countess.
“I appreciate your aid.” He stood up and stared over at her. “I’ll meet you again tomorrow night to discover what you’ve learned. From there we can make plans to rescue Rosanna.” He pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to her. “This is where you can reach me if something arises before then.”
Lady Callista took the note and slipped it inside her bosom. “I’ll make sure you’re informed of any developments.” She nodded slightly. “Until then, my lord, please use discretion in contacting me.”
“You have my word,” he said, and then spun on his heels to leave her cottage. He had a lot of planning to do and some more information to uncover before they met again. She hadn’t wanted to divulge the information she’d gathered about Le Cerveau. He had to wonder why. That told him more than she thought it did though. It suggested she already knew who the man was. It had to be someone she had access to on a regular basis for her to be certain she could enact her revenge. He’d discover what she did and who she visited before he met with her again. The more information he had, the better equipped he’d be to deal with Lady Callista and her plans of ruining the man who’d taken Edward from her.
CHAPTER NINE
Rosanna opened her eyes and immediately closed them once excruciating pain shot through her head. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was being tossed into a cabin of a ship. The man who took her locked her inside with only the darkness for company. It hadn’t been a long trip, but it had been horrible nonetheless. They gave her very little to eat or drink and she’d been forced to fumble in the dark to use a chamber pot. It was something she’d hoped to never experience again. What was she to do? Did anyone even know she’d been taken? They must’ve realized she’d gone missing, but she feared they’d not know where to begin to look for her.
“The light—it hurts my head.” She winced again as she turned toward the offending sight. The curtains on the window were spread open wide. She had to find the energy to shut them.
“You’re awake.”
Rosanna turned toward the lilting Irish accent. Her gaze met that of an ethereally beautiful woman. She had striking auburn hair and eerie, ice-blue eyes. “Who are you?”
“You can call me Eve,” she replied. “It’s short for Genevieve, but I’ve always thought that was a mouthful. Only my mother called me that when I’d done something to piss her off.”
Rosanna sat up and stared at her. Her language was—odd. In a lot of ways, she reminded her of Alys in that regard. She tilted her head and studied the woman.
She couldn’t place her, but she seemed strangely familiar. “Are we acquainted?”
“Gads, no,” she laughed lightly. “I’ve not had the pleasure. What is your name, lass?”
She wasn’t sure she wanted the woman to know who she was, and at the same time, she couldn’t find a reason not to. “Lady Rosanna Kendall,” she replied.
“Kendall, you say?” She sat up, suddenly interested. “Would you be related to the Duke of Weston?”
Rosanna jolted at her question. Did Eve know her brother? It was certainly possible. James had been away at war for years. She had no idea who he may or may not have met in that time. It made her uncomfortable this woman asked. She was stunning, and Rosanna could see how Eve would attract a man’s attention. “My brother is happily married.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to press that point home, but she didn’t want her to think she could sashay into James’s life and be a part of it in any way.
“Is that so,” she said. Her lips titled upward. “That’s lovely. Although, it doesn’t much matter. Your brother isn’t the duke I’d need to see. That one was free as a bird and quite happy to remain so. I believe you’d refer to him as a rake. One who enjoyed it immensely.” She tapped her lips.
“I don’t understand.” What was this woman blathering on about? If she’d been to the Weston estate, Rosanna had never seen her. She’d said they were not acquainted—but she’d recognized the Kendall name. She couldn’t have meant Edward. He’d not been a rake, but he was most definitely unavailable. His death made that a reality.
“I don’t suppose you would,” she sighed. “I’m not even sure I have the words to explain it accurately. My life has been a strange mixture of amazement and hell. The things I’ve seen...” She paused and stared past Rosanna. “I never thought I’d have been able to experience anything in this time. If I had a choice, I’d not do so now. I have something intrinsically precious I lost by finding myself in a time and place I don’t belong.”
She reminded her of Alys the more she spoke. Perhaps they came from a similar time. Rosanna couldn’t be sure, but at the same time she wasn’t certain if she cared enough to ask. What if she was wrong? Would the woman think she was insane? It would be better to let her talk and tell her story. She couldn’t betray Alys without more proof.
“While this conversation is quite fascinating,” Rosanna said. “Could we please do it with slightly less light invading the room? My head hurts something fierce.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” She stood and closed the curtains a little so the light didn’t land on the bed, but didn’t darken the room entirely. “There, now that we’ve taken care of that, why don’t you tell me how you came to be a captive of Ulrich Mondesi, the Comte de Dreux.”
“Whom?”
Rosanna didn’t know whom she of whom she spoke. Bivens was the one who’d abducted her and forced her to wherever she was. She didn’t know this comte, but suddenly wished she had more information. Was he connected to Bivens, and was he the real man Dom searched for?
“This isn’t good. The comte keeps me because he thinks I have something he needs—and he’s a bit enamored with me.” She shrugged when Rosanna flashed her a look of horror. “I know, lucky me.” She rolled her eyes. “If I knew how to escape this place, I’d already be gone. He keeps me in this room most of the time. I’m allowed to occasionally walk in his garden if he’s with me. The arrogant bastard believes he’s courting me.”
Eve let out an exasperated sigh. “He thinks if he’s charming enough I’ll tell him where to find his missing document. Apparently I resemble the woman who stole it. The lady hid the damned thing and then disappeared.” Eve frowned. “I’d give anything to wake up and find this is all a nightmare. I’d happily skip through my dorm room and go to my class as if it was the best thing in the world.”
“Class?” Rosanna asked. “Were you at a finishing school?”
“I suppose in a way you could call it that. I was working on my graduate degree in history with a specialization on Regency and Victorian England.” Eve laughed lightly and brushed a hand over her light blue muslin skirt. “It’s rather ironic when I think about it. I’m here in the very time period I was studying. Maybe by the time Victoria takes the throne—I probably shouldn’t talk about that...” She paused and stared at Rosanna a moment. “Anyway, if this ever rights itself and I find my way home, I’ll have one hell of a doctoral project to finish. With all this firsthand experience, my professor’s going to love me.” Her smile fell. “Although, I wouldn’t be able to back any of it up and he’d fail me for not providing legitimate sources. Then he’d recommend I see a psychiatrist and obtain much needed help for my delusions.”
Rosanna blanched at her tirade. There was no escaping reality any more. The woman said too many things and the clues were pointing to one conclusion. “You’re from the future, aren’t you?”
“Oh hell,” she said. “I’ve gone off and said too much, haven’t I? Which part gave me away? Was it the doctoral paper? The psychiatrist? No, it had to be going off about Queen Victoria.” She sighed. “It was probably all of it.”
It was all of it. She might have been able to dismiss it if she’d never met Alys, but she couldn’t let it go. Eve was another time traveler. Had she done it in the same way as Alys? Rosanna had so many questions.
“What year are you from?”Rosanna patted the dark blue blanket draping over the bed. “Come, sit, and tell me everything.”
Maybe she knew Alys. Either way she might find some comfort knowing there was someone else in her position. They could talk freely with each other about what they knew.
“I came from the twenty-first century. The actual date doesn’t matter.”
“I suppose you have a point. You’re still out of time in a place you don’t belong. If it helps, I know someone who is from the same century as you.”
Eve lifted her head and met her gaze. “That explains the lack of disbelief. Anyone else would be sending me to a looney bin.”
“You say odd things just as Alys does. I think she’d like you.” Rosanna smiled warmly. “If we ever escape, I’ll introduce you. She married my brother, James.”
Eve tilted her head and snapped her fingers. “That’s right. I remember when I was going through Bradford’s family history there was a lot of misinformation about the fifth duchess. Your brother must not have wanted anyone to know her actual origins. This is amazing.” Her whole face lit up with excitement. “I wish Trenton was here so I could share my discovery. He’d be thrilled for me.”
“Who is Trenton?”
“The love of my life, and too many years in the future for me to wait it out in the hopes of joining him—if only I were immortal.”
Now that Rosanna knew Eve was from the future, she excused a lot of her behavior. She was overly intimate and addressed her without any formality. Eve was so easy to be around and didn’t appear to have any expectations. It was probably why she seemed familiar. She had similar mannerisms as Alys, as well as speech patterns. “I wish I had news that would help you. Although, it’s rather weird.”
She wasn’t sure if she should tell Eve what she knew. The name Eve had mentioned seemed rather familiar. It might not be the same person though. Perhaps there were a lot of men with that name in her time.
“What?” Eve asked.
Rosanna decided to tell her. In her place, she’d want to know. “Alys was at Weston Manor when she fell back in time.”
“She was?” Eve’s face lit up. “She must have known Bradford then. She might have something to share about Trenton. Oh, I hope so. I miss him terribly. Why was she at Weston Manor? Bradford doesn’t particularly like company. He’s a bit of a recluse at times.”
“She mentioned her sister Regina’s wedding.” Rosanna shrugged. “It was held at the chapel on our estate—well in the future.”
She watched a variety of emotions play over Eve’s face. First, she stared at her with eyes wide open and full of curiosity, then she scrunched her f
orehead together and appeared to be in deep concentration, finally returning to the open mouth shock as a realization seemed to root inside of her. Rosanna hadn’t come out and said it, but it was clear Eve was drawing the same conclusion she had.
“Trenton married her sister.” Eve’s voice was almost devoid of emotion. “He moved on.”
“I don’t know for certain. It might not have...”
“No. I lost him.” She frowned. “I’ve tried to reach him over and over again, but he’s blocked. I need someone with an open mind and at least a tinge of psychic ability to connect. I’ve never been able to with Trenton. Of course, he’d think I left him. Why wouldn’t he?”
“I’m sorry,” Rosanna said.
“I wonder if his new wife has any ability.” She tapped her chin absentmindedly. “Her sister time traveled. Specialness might run in the family.”
Rosanna wasn’t sure what to say to that. She was talking nonsense as far as she was concerned. They had bigger things to worry about—like finding a way to escape. “I’m not sure what ability you think Regina might have.”
“I need you to tell me everything you know about Alys and her sister.”
Rosanna sighed. She didn’t know as much as Eve thought she did, but she’d humor her if it helped her to move on. First things first though, she wanted a little information of her own. “I’ll help you on one condition.”
“Anything,” Eve agreed.
“I want to know where we are, who this comte is, and anything you can tell me about him.” She stared into Eve’s eyes. “We must find a way out of this room. I don’t want to die—wherever we are.”
“The where is easy enough,” Eve replied. “We’re in Calais.”
“France?” Well, that explained the boat. “Oh, hell. They’ll never find me here. We’re making plans to flee at the first opportunity that arises. I’ll tell you what you want to know about Regina and Alys, and then we plot our escape.”
Rosanna didn’t see any reason not to share information. They would probably be locked together for a long time. She’d not be leaving for a while and might end up having to save herself. The more details she could gather, the better her chances would be.