by Dawn Brower
“Oh?” She chewed on her bottom lip. “How should I address you?”
James stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down at her through a hooded gaze. She was so beautiful. All he could think about was kissing her pretty pink lips. He needed to put some distance between them. Barriers, the building blocks of the aristocracy, would ensure she knew her place in his life. Never had he wanted the title now bestowed upon him, but damned if he wasn’t about to use it to his advantage.
“Your Grace.”
“Seriously?” Alys’s fist slammed into his shoulder. The harridan knew how to hit. Someone had taught her well. Maybe her earlier words were not a boast. “I think we are well past formalities. You’re such a conceited ass. You make me want to scream. Put me down now.”
“I will set you down once we reach your chambers.” James wanted to rub his shoulder to relieve the ache, but he had more important priorities. “Not a moment before. Insulting me will not get you your way.”
Alys’s bottom lip popped out into a pout as James continued down the hall. She was damned near adorable, but the look in her eyes scared him a bit. What was she plotting?
“Well, Your Grace,” Alys replied scathingly. “Challenge accepted.”
Before he could respond to her words, she dropped her hands from around his neck and used her dead weight against him. When he was struggling to regain his equilibrium, she reached down and squeezed his manhood with her hand. The pain shot right up through him and he fell before he had a chance to catch himself from hitting the ground hard. He found himself sprawled out on the floor with her sprawled on top of him. Breathing became even more difficult, but James was used to excruciating pain. One tiny woman would not kill him when the French couldn’t even manage to do it.
Alys rolled off him and hopped to her feet. She raised her skirt, revealing a very trim ankle—and bare feet. She placed her foot on his neck and pressed down. “If I put all of my weight down, what little breath you’re managing right now will diminish. You’ll gasp until you can’t get any air into your lungs. It will burn, and you’ll become so desperate you’d beg me to let up if you could manage words.” She pressed down a little bit, telling him with her actions she meant her words. “How about we start this day all over again and you start answering my questions. I’m not an empty-headed female incapable of understanding what is going on around me. Let’s try some little words to start with and make our way from there. What’s. Your. Fucking. Name.”
She removed her foot and took several steps back. James turned onto his side and leaned against the wall. He’d seriously underestimated her. He glared up at her. Not for the first time, he wondered who she was. “I am James Kendall, Fifth Duke of Weston. Now, how about you tell me who you are and why you’re in my home.”
Alys gasped. “You said the fifth Duke of Weston—that can’t be right.” She paced up and down the hall. Her hands shook more and more with each stride.
James got to his feet. “I assure you, as much as it pains me, I am now the duke.”
She stopped, spun around, and faced him. “Now? As in you weren’t before?”
James bent his head and stared at her. “You didn’t know my brother, did you?”
She shook her head. “I’m beginning to think I don’t know anyone here.”
Good, at least she was ready to be reasonable. “Who is Bradford?”
It was time for her to start giving him answers. She’d assaulted his person and insulted him more than he’d ever allowed from another individual. James wanted to know what her purpose was so he could start figuring out what to do with her. She had skills that scared him senseless.
“First, I need to know something.”
Alys best be prepared to start telling him everything. He had not survived the bloody war to be done in by a tiny woman with deadly skills. Maybe she was a spy sent to finish him off. He had been instrumental in the battle that ended the war. An enemy might be seeking some sort of revenge against him or his family. “That’s not how this works. This is my home. You attempted to harm me. You will tell me what I want to know.”
“I can’t tell you anything, not until I understand what is going on here,” she explained. “Tell me, James, what is the date?”
What did that have to do with anything? He almost didn’t answer her, but he was curious to know what game she was playing. James would humor her and see what path she planned on taking. “It is the sixth day of September.”
“The year. What is the year?”
She was getting more and more intriguing with every question. He tilted his head and studied her for a second before answering, “1815.”
She gasped and hit the floor. Her hands covered her face. “Oh, God! How did this happen?”
James kneeled before her. He didn’t know what the date meant to her. Why did it upset her so much? He brushed one of her blonde locks behind her ear.
“Perhaps I can help you if you explain what is going on,” he said, soothingly. “I’ve been told I’m good to have around in a crisis.”
Alys shook her head. Her cheeks were soaked with tears. “You can’t help me with this. I’m afraid of the very thing that could possibly return me to where I belong. I don’t like heights…”
“It can’t possibly be as bad as you think it is.” James was perplexed. She was making even less sense with each statement she uttered. He’d thought Alys mad, but perhaps she was simply lost. James could help her return to her home. Her accent seemed familiar. “You’re one of those colonials, aren’t you?”
“Yeah?” She stared at him. “I don’t see your point.”
“We may have been at war not that long ago with them, but I’m sure I can find a ship to return you home.”
Alys started to laugh wildly. She fell down to the ground holding her midsection between her arms. It echoed down the halls and irritated him. What was so funny? Why did the idea of putting her on a ship drive her to hysteria?
“I fail to understand why this is so humorous.”
Alys gasped for breath. “Boat, oh that’s rich. A freaking boat.” She laughed again. “To think, when I woke, the first thing that crossed my mind was I had a plane to catch.”
James opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. He didn’t even know what to ask her. What was a plane and why did she have to catch it? Peculiar didn’t even begin to describe Alys. He frowned. “I think you need to start telling me what’s going on.”
She stopped laughing, her face stone-still. Her gaze landed on him. “You don’t know how right you are, but I’m not sure how much I should tell you.”
James had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. By the look on her face there was a lot going on—much more than he even realized. She didn’t look happy, in fact, she looked even more frightened than before. Something happened that had devastated Alys all the way to her core. Her eyes were devoid of any jovial emotion, and seriousness, even in the face of her laughter, was rocking her emotions.
“Before I begin, you need to understand one very important thing.”
“Proceed,” he encouraged. “I’m listening.”
“I’m not insane. You try to lock me up in Bedlam, and I will make you pay for it. I know how this century dealt with the people they believed mad. I have not lost my mind.”
James smiled. He had thought perhaps that was the case at first, but now he didn’t believe it. He saw intelligence in her eyes. Depending on her answers, he’d decide how to proceed. Alys might not be mad, but she might have other nefarious plans. “I will not have you placed anywhere. It will be up to you where you go from here.”
If she was someone out to harm him or his family she’d be in a far worse place than Bedlam. She might find herself in prison or deported. Her answers better satisfy him.
Alys nodded. “My name is Alys Dewitt,” She paused, stared him in the eye, and dropped her news on him. “I was born on October 31, 1988.”
His mouth gaped open, shock racked his mind.
James could not have heard her correctly. She did not just say she was born almost one hundred and seventy-three years in the future. He’d assured her he believed her sane, but those words made him rethink his assessment. Something was off, and James didn’t know what it was. He couldn’t make a sound decision until he had all the facts.
“Please continue,” he urged. “I need all the information.
Alys explained everything, and with each word, he realized he didn’t understand anything. How did she fall off the cliff and end up on the beach where he found her? He remembered her strange shoes and stuffing them into her bag. James had meant to look inside to see if there were any clues to her identity, but in the chaos of bringing her home and having her looked at by the doctor, he’d forgotten. Perhaps he should investigate further. Alys could be delusional and only believed she was from the future. The tale she wove was too farfetched to take at her word. He needed something…tangible to accept that she traveled from another time.
“So, you see, I don’t belong here,” Alys finished.
“I can certainly understand why you don’t think you do,” he conceded. “However, I’m not sure I can believe such an outrageous tale.”
Alys opened her mouth and closed it several times. James had a hard time wrapping his brain around the idea that she could possibly be from the future. These things didn’t happen every day—or at all. It was a fantastical tale. He had never heard of something so extraordinary occurring. How was he to accept it had happened to Alys? It had to be pure nonsense she’d made up to explain why she was on his estate. Perhaps it was time for him to come to terms with her evident madness.
“I can prove it.” She jumped up and ran into her chambers.
James followed her inside. She dumped her bag onto the bed and waved her hands over the contents. He scanned all the strange items. He didn’t know what any of it was.
“What are these ojects? I am not familiar with any of it.”
She opened a tiny leather pouch and pulled out a rectangle object and thrust in his face. “Here look at this. It’s my driver’s license. My picture, date of birth, and address are all displayed on it.”
James snatched it from her hand and examined it. He fell backward into a chair next to the bed. The object was so thin and made out of a material he’d never seen before. Her portrait was on the tiny card and her information typeset upon it. According to this little correspondence, Alys was from Baltimore, Maryland and was indeed born in a year far into the future.
“How did you create such a wondrous object?” James flipped it over and read the back of it. She volunteered to be a donor. What was she giving away? How had they managed to put all this information onto such a small card? “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“I doubt you ever will again,” Alys explained. “I can show you the other items in my bag. They all are things you wouldn’t find in this century, and some not even in the next…”
James shook his head. It was all too much to take in. She appeared to be telling the truth. His examined the bed and perused over the items. Some were brightly colored, and they were in various shapes and sizes. When he had more time, he’d ask to look over it all again and have her explain what it all was. For now he needed time to think and figure out what to do next.
“Not now…” he paused and looked her in the eyes. “Perhaps later.”
She nodded and placed all of the items back into her purple bag. “Just let me know when you’re ready to discuss it further.”
It was all confusing, and at the same time, everything finally made sense. She’d been a conundrum ever since he found her. Now that he knew her situation fully, he had one problem…what the bloody hell was he going to do about it?
Alys was alone and without family. There was no one to protect her, and he had no idea how to return her to her own time. There was no way around it; he’d have to marry her to protect her. It was the only way he knew to make sure she remained safe. She was right to worry about being placed in Bedlam. The mental hospital was stuffed full of individuals believed insane. If anyone came across Alys and her unbelievable tale, she’d be made a permanent resident there. Without a powerful ally and a name to protect her, nothing would prevent it from happening.
James stood, nodded to her, and said, “I have to go to London. I will make some arrangements for you before I leave. When I return, we will discuss this further. Don’t do anything rash beforehand.”
He strode to his room to prepare for his journey. There was much to be done and not a moment to lose. The more he thought about it, the more resolved he became.
James never planned to marry. He’d left that to his brother. Edward was supposed to continue the line and have children. Fate had something else in mind for them both. Now he had a reason to get married. He would have had to find a lady to marry at some point. Now he didn’t have to look and had time to acclimate himself to the idea. Alys would do as well as any other woman. At least she would make an interesting duchess. Hopefully, she wouldn’t fight him too much on it. She’d fought him on everything since the moment she had awoken. James wouldn’t be surprised if that was a hint for what he should expect the rest of his days. Alys was strong willed and didn’t think twice about carrying out her threats. She’d come around and realize this was the best choice, the only decision, they could make. This was for the best—for them both.
SEARCHING FOR MY ROGUE
CHAPTER FIVE
Alys still couldn’t believe she was stuck two hundred years in the past. How could it have happened? She didn’t fully comprehend what had happened to her, but James’s reaction baffled her even more. He’d jumped up and barked orders, then promptly disappeared from her presence.
Had he believed her?
Alys shook her head. Why would he? If they reversed positions, she’d never have believed him. The whole situation was crazy. Maybe she had lost her mind...
She was in Regency England. It was beyond bizarre. It could all have been an elaborate joke… Yet Alys believed it for several reasons. After James left, she’d explored the house a little bit. What she did remember of Weston Manor…nothing of what she was currently viewing remained the same. All of the furniture was antique, or rather it would be in her time. It appeared—new in this version of the ducal estate. She found more staff as she explored. All of them regarded her the same way the maid Bessie had. After looking over several rooms she retreated to her chambers. She’d seen enough to acclimate herself to her new fate.
Now that she accepted her situation, she knew what had happened. Somehow, when she’d fallen off the cliff, it had transported her through time. There was some sort of time warp, a hole, whatever it was called over the cliffs. What made it work, Alys was uncertain of—but she couldn’t deny that it did. Jumping off the same cliff, in the same spot, could very well end up in her death. A risk she wasn’t willing to take—never mind her niggling fear of heights.
The cliffs were beautiful and she liked them, as long as she didn’t have to actually look down. She could stand on the edge of the tallest mountain and be all right, even go so far as to say thrilled, until she looked down and imagined what the plummet to the ground would do to her. She was stuck firmly in the past.
So where did that really leave her?
She stared out the window. Everything appeared familiar, yet she was looking at a past version of what she’d remembered. Her career as a surgeon would go nowhere. In this time, women were not taken seriously. They’d never allow her to care for another person. Besides, she didn’t have some of the necessary tools to practice her craft. A lot of the medicines readily available in her time hadn’t even been invented in the one she found herself in. Alexander Fleming wouldn’t discover the benefits of penicillin for another one hundred and thirteen years. How could she work, knowing what she did, with her hands tied? People were skeptical until something was proven, and even then they were not always apt to believe it. 1815, God help her, was not a time to be a pr
ogressive woman.
“Excuse me, miss, but the doctor has arrived.”
Alys turned toward the sound of the maid’s voice. Doctor? Oh yeah, James had one summoned when he still believed she needed to be examined. She closed her eyes and prayed for patience. She would need it if she had to deal with a doctor from this time period.
“Tell him his services are no longer required.”
“It’s not really your call to make,” a man said as he pushed his way into the room. “You are not a trained physician.”
Alys laughed. If only he knew. “I’m willing to bet I know more about the human body than you do. Care to place a wager?”
“Consider yourself to be somewhat of a bluestocking, do you? No matter, you can read all the books you want. It doesn’t replace real training and experience.” The doctor set down a bag on a nearby table and opened it. He pulled out a small jar and set it next to him. “I think if you allow me to help, you’ll feel better in no time at all.”
Aly’s mouth flew open at the sight of the jar. Did he really believe she’d allow him to put that disgusting specimen he carried around anywhere near her? What if he already had when he examined her previously? Bile rose up to her mouth and she managed to swallow it back down. This doctor was not touching her. “You are sadly mistaken if you think you are getting anywhere near me. Now put that thing away and leave.”
“His Grace summoned me. It’s not your place to dismiss me.”
Alys swiped a metal letter opener off the desk near the window, held it up, and sashayed over to the doctor. She stood mere inches in front of him and placed it against the left side of his neck, rubbed it against the carotid, poking it enough for a small cut.
