Eternal Time Shadows Box Set 1 / Volumes 1-10

by Lisa Shea

  Eternal Time Shadows

  Box Set 1

  Volumes 1-10

  Sweetly Romantic Time Travel

  Mini-Adventures

  Lisa Shea

  Copyright © 2015 by Lisa Shea / Minerva Webworks LLC

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Lisa Shea

  Book design by Lisa Shea

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  v2

  ASIN B012TH2DQA

  Visit my website at LisaShea.com

  Half of all author’s proceeds from this series benefit battered women’s shelters.

  1 - Destiny Interrupted

  Mary’s voice thrummed with excited energy. “Elizabeth, I can’t believe we’re really here!”

  I nodded, my body tingling. I’d had to resist pinching myself at least ten times already. Especially when the valet had opened the door to my beat-up old Honda Civic just as if it were a Porsche 918 Spider. Which, as it happened, had pulled up to the mansion right in front of us. The couple who had elegantly emerged from that gun-metal-silver vehicle was dressed to perfection in a tux and a Michael Kors floral gown.

  I looked down at my own outfit. It was the very best I owned. A goes-great-with-everything black dress which I’d been told looked quite good on my slender curves. Mary had drawn my long, dark-brown hair up into a tousled updo and tossed in a few silver flowers for good measure. Sometimes it was handy to have an art student for a roommate. Even if she had decided last month to repaint our ceiling to mimic the Sistine Chapel.

  Mary’s smile nearly reached her ears, stretching beneath that blonde, elfin pixie-cut of hers. Her springtime outfit was hot-pink and form-fitting. Perfect for Valentine’s Day. Of course, it was probably more ideal if we’d been in Miami where it was warm. Here in Massachusetts there was three feet of snow on the ground, evidence of the snowiest winter on record. I knew that most of my classmates were craving a vacation somewhere sunny. Maybe the Mediterranean.

  And here Mary and I were, at an Italian mansion.

  Not a real Italian mansion, I had to remind myself as we stepped up the beautiful Carrara marble staircase. Elegant statues of beautiful young maidens flanked us on either side, and the massive mahogany doors stood open even in the chill night air. This humongous home was the brainchild of the Argento family – a banking dynasty which, on the mother’s side, traced back to the original blue bloods of Boston.

  Mary was practically bouncing with glee as we stepped over the threshold.

  A pair of black-masked servants greeted us in the high-ceilinged foyer. They bowed to us, then silently waved hands to the silk-draped table to the right.

  It was laid out with masks in every shape and size. Large, silver masks with fox eyes. Small, delicate black masks edged with satin. Textured leather masks with large peacock feathers sprouting out of the top.

  Mary giggled and reached for one in sunshine yellow sporting flashes of white lightning on it. She slipped it on over her short hair, then turned to me. “What do you think?”

  I nodded in approval. “It’s you to a T.” I turned back to the table. “But I’m not sure which –”

  And then I saw it.

  It was beautifully crafted white porcelain, covering the whole face. The top half was layered in shimmering gold, with raised swirls creating an elegant design. The lips were painted in matching gold. Only the eye-holes allowed a glimpse of the person within.

  I nodded and drew it up. “Here we go.”

  Mary nudged me. “Just like you, hiding behind a full mask.”

  I drew it in place, and I actually did feel safe. Like I could pretend to belong and fit in, if just for a little while.

  Mary tugged on my arm. “And here we go!”

  We stepped through the foyer.

  It was everything I could have imagined – and more. Waiters and waitresses in formal black outfits served silver trays of Champagne, caviar, and salmon. A twelve-piece classical music group in the far corner of the ballroom played beautiful Strauss. Couples waltzed in perfect symmetry, heads held just so, while artwork worth millions hung glittering on all sides. A bank of French doors on the far side of the room opened out to a perfectly manicured lawn. Somehow the entire expanse had been cleared of snow so that the sculpted shrubbery, elegant fountain, and classic hedge-maze were all on display.

  I could just imagine a team of gardeners out there with tiny brushes and hand-held heat-guns, making sure no speck of white interrupted the flawless presentation.

  Mary stretched up high on her four-inch heels, peering around like the most avid groupie at her favorite band’s concert. “Do you see him? Lizzie, you’re taller than me. Is he here?”

  I smiled. Being five-foot-eight did have a few advantages over Mary’s diminutive size. Like being able to hide my Mallomars up where she couldn’t see or reach them. Now it gave me an extra boost in trying to find our quarry for the evening.

  I looked across the sea of swirling, laughing people. Each one was wearing clothing which could easily pay off my substantial student loans and leave enough for me to live on for a year.

  Maybe two.

  There were grey-haired men escorted by model-perfect women who could easily be their granddaughters. A pair of bottle blondes stood side by side, holding matching Champagne flutes, glaring at a middle-aged woman in disdain. To me she seemed to be in the same high-fashion outfits as the rest of the group, but clearly I was missing something. And over there, by the far set of open French doors …

  My breath caught, and I staggered.

  From far away I could hear Mary asking, “Elizabeth? What is it?”

  It wasn’t just that he was handsome. There were a number of handsome men in the room, in all shades of white, black, and brown. I had seen countless photos of Robert Argento when the news of his family’s donation to the American Antiquarian Society had been announced. I knew what to expect. Six-foot-two. Thick, dark hair. Elegant, slender black eye-mask. A build like a rugby player and a focus in his eyes which said he knew what he was doing. The well-tailored tux had been fitted to him by an expert.

  No wonder he’d been voted most eligible bachelor in Boston for three years running.

  But it wasn’t any of that. It wasn’t the chiseled features which could have perfectly matched the statuary in the back yard. Or the fact that he was heir to the glittering billionaire-level fortune which surrounded us on every side. It was something deeper. Something which swirled in my soul, spun faster, and resonated … resonated …

  He turned and stared right at me.

  A kaleidoscope of shimmering colors – silver, gold, sapphire blue – spun in my gaze …

  Mary was shaking my arm. “Elizabeth? Jesus, are you all right?”

  I blinked back into awareness. The music spun up around me as if power had returned to an old record player. The waltzers were still spinning their precise circles; the laughter continued in its bright joy.

  He was gone.

  Mary’s brow creased. “C’mon. Let’s get you something to drink. And some food, too. You haven’t had anything all day long, you’ve been so tense about tonight. Heck, if I’m gonna be your plus-one on this, the least I can do is make sure you don’t k
eel over before you even get to talk to the guy.”

  She guided me over to one of the lace-draped buffet tables. She handed me a stuffed mushroom and I dutifully put it into my mouth, following it down with a swallow of Champagne which I had a sense cost more than my car. But it all seemed distant. Unreal. As if it were a play I was watching from a far-off balcony seat. I could barely hear the lines. Barely make out the faces of the characters.

  A cultured voice sounded from my elbow. “Oh, look, Sofia. Another Macy-ite.”

  My face burnished bright red; thank goodness the mask hid that from view. I had, in fact, bought my black dress at a sale at Macy’s.

  Every instinct in my brain pleaded that I not turn to look.

  I turned.

  It was the blonde pair I had seen earlier. They seemed completely at ease with me meeting their gazes. The one who had spoken was probably a natural auburn, judging from her skin coloring, while I had to guess the other would have been a red-head. But both shone gold under the twinkling candelabras.

  Red-head, who I took to be Sofia, nodded to her friend in agreement. “Shoes from WalMart, Anna.”

  That wasn’t true, but it wasn’t that far off, either.

  Mary tucked her arm into mine, giving me a tug. “C’mon, Elizabeth, we have better things to do than to sit around like abandoned wall-flowers. No wonder those two aren’t dancing, with sour faces like that.”

  The blondes’ mouths opened in outraged shock as Mary and I slipped into the currents and eddies of people, moving toward the musicians.

  Mary’s eyes shone in delight. “You really scored, if you’re already on those two’s radar.”

  I looked at her in surprise. “You know them?”

  She laughed. “You read too many of those history books and not enough of the society pages! Sofia and Anna are the it girls. They’re at every new restaurant opening and every high-class party. I think between them they’ve wrecked at least six different cars. But rumor has it that they’re easing up on those party days and boy-toys. They want to land themselves something permanent. Or someone permanent.”

  I had a feeling I knew just who they were after.

  Mary craned up on her toes, peering around again. “So, have you seen him yet? Jeez, you’d think with this being his birthday party that he’d be here somewhere.”

  Waves of rich warmth came to me from the crackling fireplace off to the right. A sensation which seemed to have little to do with the flickering flames of orange and gold.

  I turned.

  He was standing there, leaning against the veined marble mantelpiece, his eyes on me. He wasn’t just watching me. That would be too light a word to use. The depths of emotions which swirled in that tawny gaze were rich, complicated, and they delved into my very core.

  The word came out of my mouth as an almost soundless sigh.

  “Robert –”

  A pair of perfectly-coiffed blonde heads sealed off the space between us as effectively as if a nuclear bunker’s steel doors had slammed shut. Their bodies, encased in glittering gold and shimmering silver, were the military-grade barriers between me and … what?

  Why did I just feel as if the most important item I had ever craved had been ruthlessly stolen away from me?

  Mary looked up at me in confusion. “What is it, Lizzie? Did you see him?”

  I could only nod.

  She burst into a smile. “All right! Well, c’mon, you have an excuse to talk with him, you know. You’re here on behalf of the Antiquarian Society. Get some pithy words to include in their latest press release about this donation.” She grinned, looking around her again. “I’m just lucky you’re not dating anyone and you got to bring me along with you.”

  She took me by the hand, dragging me forward. “I know you’re shy, Lizzie, but someday you’re gonna have to break out of that shell! Get out of that library’s archives and see the world. Date a guy for once! Life is gonna pass you by, if you’re not careful, and then where will you be?” She wove her way through a trio of grey-whiskered bankers as she spoke. “Alone, that’s where! Alone, lonely, and curled up in some dust-bunny-ridden apartment with twelve cats and stacks of moldy books. When instead you could be –”

  She drew up to the fireplace.

  He was gone.

  Unreasonable despair soaked through me. The depths of my sense of loss made no sense at all, and yet they coursed through me with a force which shook me. I’d never felt this way about any man before. I’d dated once or twice, when pressured to by well-meaning friends, but it had never stuck. I’d never felt even the smallest glimmer of a spark. Each time it was like spending the evening with an older brother. Pleasant enough, but not even remotely what I’d think of as romantic. And their attempts to kiss me had left me cold and unmoved.

  I had begun to think that I was simply not interested in having a partner. There had never been anyone at all which made me feel alive.

  Until now.

  I put my hand on the mantelpiece where his body had rested. Was it my imagination, or was it still warm from his body heat? My fingers tightened on the smooth stone, and the ache in my heart grew.

  He had stood here. On this very spot.

  Mary looked around. “Professor Cooper will tan your hide if you don’t get at least a few words from him,” she reminded me. “She had to pull a lot of strings to get you invited to this little soirée rather than just getting your answers via email. So enough of your shyness, girl. You plow in there and talk to him!”

  Her words floated past me, disconnected, sounds from another age. I stepped forward through the sea of people. The swirling ebony black tuxes. The beautiful dresses in ivory, sea-green, and pale lavender. The couple from the Porsche 918 were off to my left, spinning in choreographed perfection. And he was nowhere … he was nowhere …

  I turned.

  He was standing right in front of me.

  He held his arms up, I stepped into them, and then, before my mind could sort out or make sense of it, we were in motion.

  The music lifted me, filling my every breath. Destiny by Sydney Baynes. It was my favorite – my go-to any time I had to study for a challenging exam. I knew every bar, every note. And now I was swirling around the ballroom, Robert’s hands holding mine, his feet echoing mine over the polished marble floor.

  His eyes were on mine, dark, rich with layers of emotion I could barely name. He shook his head as if something didn’t make sense. “Do I know you?”

  I blushed, and again was thankful for the full-face mask shielding me from view. I was as shy as newborn fawn in his presence. It took me three tries to find my voice.

  “I’m … umm … I’m Elizabeth, Mister Argento. Elizabeth Luciani.”

  “Call me Robert,” he replied automatically, his eyes still caught on mine. He blinked in confusion. “You’re … you’re the one battleship Cooper sent to talk to me?”

  A laugh erupted out of me. “So you know her?”

  He grinned. “Had her for three of my negotiation classes. She’s tough as nails. You know that old adage, those who can’t do, teach? Proven wrong by that woman. I’d like to see any lawyer who could out-think her.”

  He shook his head again. “But I don’t remember seeing you on campus.”

  “I started at Harvard the year after you graduated. I’m just a senior now.”

  His brow creased. “So why does it seem like –”

  I swirled back –

  There was a flash of blonde.

  My heel caught on something.

  I swept toward the polished marble floor –

  Robert’s strong hands swung me down as if for an elegant dip, and the sweeping motion eased my momentum just inches from the hard surface. Then I was up again, pressed close against his sturdy chest.

  My heart hammered against my ribs, but against all reason I felt wholly safe. At peace. As if anything at all could be going on outside of those arms, but that within them I was home.

  I breathed in his scent – ri
ch with pine and juniper – and I raised my eyes.

  He was looking down at me with an expression which took my breath away.

  Time suspended …

  He lowered his head –

  A high, sharp woman’s voice sounded from over his shoulder. “Robert, my dear, please introduce us to your new friend.”

  He held still for a beat, as if considering ignoring the request. Then he released me and turned.

  “Mother, father, this is Elizabeth Luciani. From the American Antiquarian Society. Here to talk with me about our donation.”

  I turned, giving a small curtsey. Somehow it seemed the right thing to do.

  They were dressed like royalty. His mother’s hair was almost jet black and piled high into an elegant updo decorated with diamonds and sapphires. Her dress was deep blue and shimmered with swirls of gemstones and silver thread.

  His father, elegant in his tuxedo, was a picture image of what his son might look like in twenty years, if he were fortunate. Handsome, in good shape, and his eyes moved between us in curiosity.

  Behind the parents were the blonde duo. I had no doubt that they had a hand in this sudden line of questioning.

  I found my voice and looked to the parents. “I’m very pleased to meet you both.”

  Robert took my hand and gave his parents an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid it’s been hard for me to answer her questions with all the noise in here. So we’ll go out and finish the interview by the fountain.” He looked over his mother’s shoulder. “And here comes Mrs. Roslindale. I’m sure she wants to compliment you on that lovely dress you’re wearing.”

  Indeed, the round, elderly woman’s eyes were shining with interest as she strode up to join the group.

  His mother’s mouth opened. “I was just –”

  Mrs. Roslindale leapt into the fray. “Elena! My darling! Where-ever did you –”

  Robert gave me a swirl, we were threading through the moving couples, and then the brisk night air brought color to my cheeks. Or I imagined it did, beneath my white-and-gold mask.

  He led me over to the edge of the beautifully carved fountain. At its center were three sculpted women, elegantly beautiful in Greek robes. One held a spindle, while another was carefully measuring the thread. The third held a pair of shears.