by Lynn Kurland
He was invited to follow the two women and found himself slightly more grateful than he probably should have been that in spite of himself they had landed where they were supposed to. He could hardly bear to hope the rest of the trip would go as easily.
He jumped a little when he realized Mary was looking at him over her shoulder.
“You know, you look a little like Sir Richard Drummond,” she mused. “He’s in the Tower.”
“Yes,” Derrick managed. “We know.”
“I’ll just bet you do.” She lifted her eyebrows briefly, then led Samantha into the house.
He followed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Oliver and Peter were still managing not to look as gobsmacked as he imagined they were feeling. Peter was pale and Oliver absolutely expressionless. Business as usual, thankfully.
Mary ushered them inside with great ceremony and continued to lead them through the kitchens and into the house. Derrick was slightly surprised to find Sir Thomas up and about, but perhaps the man had things to be doing.
“Ah, Thomas,” Mary said with a first-rate French accent that Derrick would imagine she hadn’t come by in the twenty-first century. “These are friends of mine from the continent, Derrick of Beaumont and his wife, Samantha.”
Derrick trotted out his best courtly manners, ones he also hadn’t polished in the twenty-first century. “Sir Thomas,” he said, inclining his head. “We appreciate your hospitality.”
Sir Thomas looked at him thoughtfully. “Lady Mary said yesterday that she thought you might be passing through London, so you are not unexpected. Your manor is near Beauvois?”
“It is,” Derrick agreed, because he wasn’t about to blow Mary’s story for him. “A mutual friend did me the favor of alerting Lady Mary to my plans.”
“In trade, are you?” Sir Thomas asked.
“Nothing to equal your business,” Derrick said, because Jamie had done his homework for him and he knew just exactly how much trade Thomas Mauntell did every year, importing expensive textiles and other high-end luxuries.
And then he realized what else Mary had said, something that hadn’t registered at the time.
Samantha was going to be posing as his wife?
“Our good Derrick has a keen eye for antiquities,” Mary said, drawing Samantha’s arm through hers, “which keeps his lady in pretty clothes and several maids to attend her.”
Thomas looked behind them, then frowned. “Yet you have come so far with so slim a retinue?”
Or words to that effect. Derrick wondered if it might be time to plead a headache or pinch Samantha so she would swoon and he could carry her off without having to say anything else.
“They were robbed,” Mary said, “and their serving girls and groom driven off. Not much for the remaining lads to do but loiter in the stables.”
“How terrible,” Sir Thomas said, clucking his tongue. “Mayhap other servants can be acquired for you, if you like. I’ll have one of my maids show you to your chamber now. We have ample room outside for your servants.”
“Thank you,” Derrick said, knowing he would hear about that last bit in great detail at some point in the future. He thanked Mary for her help, thanked Lord Thomas profusely for his hospitality, then followed after the maidservant who showed them a surprisingly large room on the second floor. It had a brick chimney, which he had expected, and a large canopied bed.
He let Samantha distract the girl whilst he pulled Oliver and Peter aside.
“I think we’ll attempt a tour of the Tower perhaps near noon,” he said quietly.
“Whatever you say,” Oliver said with a shiver.
“After getting lost this morning, I’m not taking any chances that things may have changed without some historian having made adequate note of it,” Derrick said grimly. “Keep yourselves safe, lads. Try not to brawl.”
The lads left in the company of the maidservant who spoke no French, which was handy given that Oliver and Peter apparently spoke no English. The girl was suitably smitten with their full sets of teeth and skin free from pockmarks, so Derrick supposed they would get along well enough. He closed the door, then turned, leaned back against it, and looked at Samantha.
“Well?”
“I’m terrified,” she said, sounding as if her throat were very dry.
“Your great-aunt has paved the way for us,” he offered.
“That’s what I’m terrified about,” she whispered fiercely. “She’s out of her mind!”
He locked the door, then crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. He smiled at her. “She is formidable.”
“Did you have any idea she would be here?”
“None,” he said, “though I’m grateful for it.”
“Did you know she was my great-aunt?” she asked suspiciously.
He bent his head and kissed her softly. “No. You, Miss Drummond, are a complete mystery to me.”
“Liar. I bet you checked my ACTs and my college grades.”
He laughed a little. “Had to have something to do to keep from biting my nails on the way to Ambleside, but I promise that’s the only thing I investigated. Your email and your family tree are perfectly safe. You do realize, though, that you’re related to several souls of various, ah, vintages.”
“I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Jamie will happily discuss your genealogy with you when we get home,” he said cheerfully. “Now, Mistress Samantha, would you rather have a predawn nap or something to eat?”
“I don’t think I can do either,” she said uneasily. “The dress is too big to lie down in and too tight to eat in. How long are we going to be here again?”
“Hopefully not too long,” he said. “I think I’ll try the Tower tour later with the lads, then we’ll see where the evening takes us. If there’s a party here, I might be able to ask a few prying questions without having it come back to haunt us. I can’t imagine that our good Sir Richard went to the Tower quietly. Surely someone will be willing to gossip about it.”
She shivered. “Will you think less of me if I confessed that I just lied? I’m terrified, but not for Granny Mary.”
He pulled her as close as he was able and wrapped his arms around her the best he could.
“Not to worry, Sam,” he said quietly. “We’ll be in and out of here as quickly as possible.”
“Have you done anything worse than this? With Jamie, I mean?”
He smiled. “Would it make you feel better if I said yes?”
“Only if it was much worse than this and you got out alive.”
“I think I can guarantee a happy ending. Would you care to hear a couple of infamous episodes?”
“Please.” She pulled back far enough to look up at him. “I can try to sit, if you want. But maybe not too close to the fire. This fabric was hideously expensive.”
He found a window seat made just for sitting and listening to tall tales, then joined her there and prepared to delight and astonish with things where he had truly feared might spell the end of his illustrious career as a time traveler.
He could only hope that their current adventure wouldn’t be the one he wouldn’t be alive to tell about when it was safely behind him.
Chapter 25
Samantha paced in the bedroom she’d been given, partly because she was nervous and partly because she simply couldn’t sit down. The next time she traveled through time to help rescue an ancestor upon whom her very existence depended, she was going to see if she could do so in a place where the clothes were more comfortable.
She had no idea how long Derrick had already been gone, but it seemed like at least an hour had passed since he’d trotted off toward the Tower, Oliver and Peter in tow. At least he had money, thanks to Granny Mary’s ability to clean clocks at the gaming table, and he had two shadows at his heels, ones she certainly wouldn’t have tangled with. She’d already had a lesson from Oliver in self-defense; she suspected he’d only shown her the mild stuff.
She jumped half a foot a
t the knock on the door. She’d already been attended by two different maids, but sent them on their way while pleading a headache. She walked across the wooden floor, then opened the door carefully. The relief that rushed through her at seeing her grandmother’s sister there was almost more than she could take.
Mary came in and shut the door behind her. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“I don’t drink.”
“Neither do I, generally, so I called for some tea. At least that way the water’s boiled. I’m not even sure I trust the wine.”
Samantha waited while tea was set up, then listened to her aunt dismiss the servants with what she could only assume, having grown up with her father, was a first-rate local accent. Mary arranged herself at the table, then looked up.
“Come sit, girlie, if you can.”
“I think I could be the tea table with this shelf I’m wearing around my hips,” Samantha muttered. “Who thought up this ridiculous-looking getup anyway?”
“Oh, I imagine you could give a fairly decent lecture on that, couldn’t you?” Mary asked, her eyes twinkling. “Make good use of that stool, sweetie, and let’s take our minds off things for a bit. That Derrick Cameron is one good-looking kid.”
Samantha had to agree, but she was too busy trying to sit to say as much. She got herself arranged, managed to get something down her parched throat without wearing it down the front of her dress, then looked at her great-aunt.
“Does anyone else in the family know you do this?”
Mary leaned back against the wall and propped her feet up on a stool she dragged over with the toe of her shoe. “Helen, of course, but she’s been on several jaunts with me to oversee the births of Jennifer’s children.”
Samantha looked at her in surprise. “My cousin Jennifer?”
“Who married Nicholas, Earl of Wyckham, in . . . well, sometime in the early thirteenth century. Can’t quite bring the exact date to mind at present.”
Samantha felt her mouth fall open. “So, that’s where you’ve been going? I thought you were volunteering with the Peace Corps!”
Mary smiled. “Not yet. Perhaps when I’m older and don’t have the energy for this any longer.”
Samantha suppressed the urge to snort. Mary MacLeod McKinnon was every day of seventy-five. Heaven help them all if she ever decided time traveling wasn’t enough excitement for her.
“Derrick’s very handsome,” Mary noted. “But then again, he is a Cameron. Good genes.”
Samantha knew her great-aunt was trying to distract her, which she appreciated. She found herself torn between blushing and feeling quite ill. There was actually no reason to blush because there was nothing between her and him, but there was every reason to feel very nervous because he was off taking the tour of the Tower of London.
“We’re not a couple,” she managed.
“Uh-huh,” Mary said. “That’s not what it looked like to me. So, how did you manage to run into him? And you can relax, Sam. He’ll be fine. Jamie says he’s extremely bright and sly as a fox. He’ll manage to get himself in and out of the Tower on a tour without giving anything away. He’s dressed appropriately and he’s very handsome. The only thing I would worry about is every female in the area hitting on him, but since you’re not a couple, that’s not a worry. Now, details.”
Samantha tried to take a deep breath, but there was no hope of that thanks to her corset. She supposed she could breathe later, maybe when they’d gotten back to their proper place in time.
“Gavin found me a job over here for the summer—”
“As well he should have,” Mary said with a snort. “Useless ass.”
Samantha had to smile. There was a reason Mary was one of her favorite people.
“He did manage to get me over here to England, so I can’t say too many bad things about him. He got me a house-sitting gig with a couple in Newcastle.”
“And?”
“Well, it turns out the people I was house-sitting for are textile thieves,” Samantha admitted. “They wanted me to deliver something for them in London, which I agreed to because I had no idea what they were up to. Inside that package, though, was a piece of Elizabethan lace that they had stolen from a client of Derrick’s.”
“How much of that did he know?”
“Most of it, actually. He followed me from Newcastle to London, rescued me from Elizabethan England, then we sort of came to an understanding about the fact that I wasn’t a thief.”
“And you’re here to rescue Richard Drummond from the Tower,” Mary said.
“Don’t you think that’s a good idea?”
Mary laughed a little. “I do, actually. He’s insufferable in person, but a very fine actor. I’m not sure how he got mixed up in anything worthy of being tossed in jail, but I suppose your Derrick will figure that out.”
Samantha studied her great-aunt. “You don’t know?”
Mary started to speak, then sighed. “I know he’s been accused of stealing gems, but that’s only because someone mentioned it at supper last night. Jamie texted me a couple of days ago at home and told me what Derrick thought was going on. Once we nailed down a few details, I hopped on a plane to London, then snuck back here to wait for you.”
“But, Granny,” Samantha said weakly, “the jet lag . . .”
“One of the benefits of being old,” Mary said with a smile. “Don’t need much sleep. So, here we are, happily trying to sit in on these crazy Elizabethan fashions, waiting for your boyfriend to get back from his casing of the Tower of London.”
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Samantha protested.
“Well, cupcake, he’d obviously like to be.” She nodded. “I have two good eyes and years of experience looking at this kind of thing.” She made herself a bit more comfortable. “I’m assuming you have come along not just to keep him company.”
Samantha tried to swallow, then had to have help by means of some more tea. “Well, the thing is, the jewels the Richard Drummond of the current day is accused of stealing somehow got slipped into my bag the last time Derrick and I were here retrieving some lace that I had left hiding in the past. He’s not happy about it, but I came along partly to act as bait. We figure whoever planted them on me might try to get them back if they knew I was here.”
Mary looked for the first time slightly unsettled. “There’s some danger involved in that, Sam, I don’t mind telling you so. People get away with all kinds of things here if they know the right higher-ups.”
“I’m going to try to stay out of the way of those types.” She took as deep a breath as her corset would allow. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about anyone missing some gems, have you?”
“I can certainly ask around,” Mary said. “I wish I’d known sooner, but Jamie didn’t say anything.”
“I don’t think there was anything to know,” Samantha said with a shrug. “It makes you wonder, though, doesn’t it, who would have that many jewels swiped from him and not want to publicize it so he could get them back.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mary said thoughtfully. “Richard’s stonewalling them in the Tower, or so I hear, so no joy there. Maybe the owners are just trying to do a little sleuthing in private. Or perhaps Mauntell knows something.”
“Is it possible to find out?”
Mary pushed her stool aside and got to her feet with more energy than Samantha had at the moment. “I’ll go ask a few questions.”
“But can you really trust anyone here?”
“You underestimate the power of my biscuits and gravy.”
Samantha would have smiled, but she was just too nervous to. “What if Lord Mauntell’s involved?”
“How many gems?”
“Forty-eight.”
“How much does Derrick think they’re worth in modern pounds?”
“About fifty million pounds.”
That Mary didn’t look shocked left Samantha feeling slightly shocked.
“Granny, that’s a lot of money.”
“Honey, that’s because they’re antiques. People always pay more for old stuff. But back here, they’re just ordinary rocks. I’m not saying they aren’t valuable, but they’re going to be worth a fraction of that right now.”
“Do people have that much money?”
Mary laughed a little. “Arundel’s rumored to owe about a half a million smackers to dozens of tradespeople.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean he has it in the bank,” Samantha pointed out.
“The poor saps who made his clothes certainly don’t,” Mary agreed. She shook her head. “But for a minor lord, losing that many gems could indeed be quite a hit to his treasury. I’ll go do some careful snooping.” She started toward the door, then paused and looked over her shoulder. “There’s a masquerade tonight, you know, followed by supper. Dancing as well. Who knows who we’ll find there?”
Samantha could hardly bear to think about it. She promised her great-aunt she would try to rest, then watched Mary leave. She picked up her tea, then almost dropped the cup when the door opened suddenly.
She closed her eyes briefly. It was just Derrick. Unpierced, unshackled, unarrested. Perhaps that was good enough for the afternoon.
She tried to get up, but her dress was just too formidable. Derrick laughed a little and walked over to pull her up to her feet. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.
“Remind me to bring you to Elizabethan England more often,” he said cheerfully.
She pushed away from him and tried to scowl. She was sure that was ruined by how hard she was shaking.
“Well?”
He reached for her hands and chafed them. “You’re cold.”
“I’m terrified.”
He saw her seated back on her stool, then sat down across the little tea table from her and helped himself to something to drink. “It was, if you can believe it, almost the same as touring the Tower in our day. Gawkers, purists, and sellers of goods outside the gates. We didn’t see anything interesting, but I will tell you that the yobs in this town are everywhere.”