A Stolen Season by Gill Tamara

Author:Gill, Tamara [Gill, Tamara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romance, paranormal
Publisher: F+W Media, Inc.
Published: 2012-08-26T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Sarah spied the invitation sitting on her plate, recognizing Anita’s flowing script immediately. She read the short note and looked up to see Richard gazing over at her expectantly.

“Anita has invited us to her betrothal party at Lord Earnston’s estate in Westerham,” she said as she picked up her plate and strolled to the sideboard to choose her breakfast.

“And are we going?”

Sarah shrugged and tried to look as nonchalant as possible. “What choice do we have? I’ve also accepted the invitation to a masquerade ball this week.”

“I noticed you missing for a time at Lady Oliver’s ball,” Richard said, his eyebrow raised. “Remarkably, Lord Earnston was also absent.”

Sarah managed to suppress her grin at this quandary. “I’m only doing my job,” she said.

Richard scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that, Sarah. You never know, you might actually start believing it.”

They ate in silence for a time, both lost in their own thoughts, Sarah’s on a certain rakish earl who stole her breath with a look and her sanity with just a touch.

Heat bloomed on her cheeks.

Richard pushed his plate away. “What are you going to do when he asks you to marry him? Men of his station don’t dally with debutantes without marriage their ultimate goal.”

Sarah took a sip of tea. “Don’t be ridiculous. Marriage is the last thing Eric would be thinking about.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Sarah. You’re thinking with a modern woman’s mind, not as an early nineteenth century miss. Trust me, he’s thinking of rings and vows. Are you prepared for the consequences when he asks for your hand and receives a no as your reply?”

Richard’s exasperated expression sobered Sarah. “I feel a headache coming on.” She rubbed her temples. “But we can’t go back to Plan A of you stealing the device.”

“No.” Richard shook his head. “You’ve started this game and you’ll have to play it to the end. But just make sure you take the device at the first opportunity. Time is running out, Sarah.”

Yes it was, and the thought left her empty. Back in 2012, she didn’t even have a boyfriend. For that matter, she hadn’t slept with a guy in more than twelve months. And here she was in 1818 with a delicious lord chasing her skirts. What a difference two-hundred years could make to one’s dating life.

“I’ll get the device as soon as I can without being obvious. I promise,” Sarah said.

Richard sighed. “For your sake, I hope he intends to just dabble with you after all.”

Sarah faked a grin for Richard’s sake. “I’m all for dabbling.” Richard laughed and left the table. Her smile faded as she watched him depart. “Dabbling” didn’t sound at all appealing anymore.

• • •

Sarah was chaperoned to the masquerade ball by the Duke and Duchess of Winters after Richard declined the invitation, citing he needed a night off from highly starched neck cloths and sickening perfume. The duke himself was chatty and jovial in the carriage, speculating over the entertainment to come.

The carriage rolled to a halt before Sarah’s first glimpse of a London ducal address.

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