by Dawn Brower
“Do you expect me to wear this for the duration?” She lifted her chin defiantly. “It’s not appropriate. I appreciate a little scandal, but even I have my limits.”
Zane sighed. He would have his hands full with the countess. Good thing he looked forward to their continued clash of wills. This was the most fun he’d had in—hell, he couldn’t remember the last time. Wishing for something to alleviate his boredom might have worked out for him. He felt sorry for her though. She would receive the shock of her life when she got a taste of the twenty-first century. A lot had changed from her time. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. “You’re precious,” he replied. “Stay here and I’ll see if I can retrieve you something to wear. Though, I should warn you, I doubt you’ll like it any better.”
He spun on his heels and exited the room, not waiting for her to reply. She’d just delay the inevitable, and he didn’t have time to humor her on a selection of clothing. When he took her shopping, he’d let her pick out whatever she felt comfortable in. Most of his guests left earlier in the morning leaving his choices slim to none. Expedience was his main goal, and the only other female left in residence was the current Duchess of Weston. Wouldn’t Callista love that? She was supposed to be the Duchess back in the nineteenth century and had been denied when Edward Kendall died in a carriage accident. That had to grate on her a lot. Had she’d loved the duke, or was her revenge was more about being denied the title. Back then, power and prestige was held to a higher standard than love. Affection in a marriage was rare.
He strolled down the hall and stopped outside the room assigned to Regina and Bradford. No noises could be heard from inside and he wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. He lifted his hand and rapped on the door. After a moment, it swung open and he met Bradford’s gaze. His hair was rumpled, and he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt. He stood before Zane in a pair of pajama bottoms and nothing else. Zane was actually surprised he wore anything to bed. Marriage must not be as good as they thought. Though, he supposed, he could have put them on to answer the door...
“What do you want?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Is that anyway to greet your host? You could leave at any time.”
Bradford grumbled and then said, “I apologize for my rudeness. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” He ran his hand through his mussed hair and the dark brown edges stood up in even odder angles from his actions.
“Not my problem if you’re having trouble keeping up with your husbandly duties,” Zane replied. “Take that up with your wife; you married her. Explain that sometimes a man needs sleep, especially as old as you are.”
“We’re the same age, you wanker,” Bradford said indignantly. “What right do you have to call me old?”
“But you’ve always been much older than me in spirit.” It was always so easy to get a rise out of the duke. How had he not realized Zane was pulling the proverbial chain? As much fun as it was to tease him, there were more important matters. Callista needed clothes, and although he liked the idea of her naked—even he realized it was too soon for such antics. It was time to get to the reason he’d come to Bradford’s room. “Where is Regina?”
“She’s not here,” Bradford replied. “What do you want with her? I thought we already settled this. You know she prefers me—she did marry me after all.”
“Clearly, you’re still harboring some resentments. We’ll have that out later.” Zane rolled his eyes. “She’d have come to your defense already if she was in the room. Where is she? I am in need of her assistance.”
Zane hoped Bradford dropped his ridiculous jealousy. He didn’t have time to soothe his male ego. Callista was waiting for him to return.
Bradford shrugged. “Not entirely sure.” He covered a yawn with his hand. “She was working on something with Trenton. They were going through more of the journals in your library. I assume she’s still there, but I can’t say for sure.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. It must’ve been male posturing earlier since he let his idiotic notions go rather easily. Zane was mildly irritated that Regina and Trenton made themselves at home already. Zane had been aware Trenton was coming, but hadn’t realized he’d arrived already.
Callista had taken all of his focus—something she continued to do. A man had to have some priorities... It appeared as if locating Regina might have to be added to the top of the list even if he didn’t want to put her there. Searching all over his estate for Regina didn’t appeal to him. Bradford was damn near useless. An idea popped into his head. “Would you be willing to go through your wife’s clothes and find something for me she wouldn’t mind parting with?”
Bradford raised an eyebrow and, with amusement, said, “I didn’t know you’ve taken up cross-dressing.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Please tell me when you realized you were really meant to be a woman.”
I will not punch him. I won’t. I have restraint. Maybe if he said it to himself enough he’d be able to comply. Bradford was getting even because of his earlier dig about being old. Fair was fair, and he could take whatever the duke dished out. It was all in good fun, and they’d been friends long enough that they could hit each other where it hurts. Through gritted teeth he said, “They’re not for me.”
“Do tell me your latest fling hasn’t lost her clothes.” He smirked. “No wait...” He held up a hand. “You tore them to shreds in impatience, didn’t you? No need to explain. I understand a man sometimes has needs.”
Callista’s dress had been torn, but he hadn’t been the one to do it. He had an idea on what happened to it. Later he’d ask her for confirmation. That was if he ever managed to secure some new clothing for her. Bradford would make it inherently difficult to achieve that goal.
“I didn’t maul anyone last night.” He glared at Bradford. “I have much more finesse then that.”
“If you say so.” Bradford wiggled his eyebrows. “Then why do you need to steal some of my wife’s clothes?”
Zane took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. Having a brawl with Bradford would not help. It might feel good though... No, he wouldn’t give in to his urge. Why was it so hard to keep his fists from hitting his friend’s face? Probably because they knew each other too well... “While I didn’t harm a lady, there is one in need of attire. Hers was damaged—again, not by me—and she has nothing to wear.”
Bradford chuckled. “I think you’re protesting a wee bit too much.” He held up both his hands as Zane stepped toward him. “Easy now—no need to resort to violence. I’ll hand the clothes over.”
Zane cursed under his breath. “I’m not holding you at gunpoint.”
“Might as well be.”
Some things never changed. Zane closed his eyes and shook his head. Truthfully, he didn’t want them to. It was nice when he could count on certain things or people to be exactly as expected. That was Bradford to him. They might do whatever they could to get under each other’s skin, but when the chips were down, no one would stand in their way. Bradford would have his back and vice versa.
“Can you please help me?” Zane asked. “I don’t have a lot of time to debate this with you.”
Bradford laughed and went to the closet and opened it up. “What would you like? Something casual, or are you taking her out on the town?”
Good grief... “I’m not taking her out on a date. I told you it’s not like that.”
Callista was different. He couldn’t explain it, but he wanted to help her. When he read about her in Dominic Rossington’s journals, he’d been fascinated. What did it take for a lady to become a spy? How did that affect her, and what kept her driven to see her task through? He’d always wondered what had happened to her. She’d gone missing when Dominic and Callista were rescuing Rosanna Kendall. Callista had fallen off a balcony along with the man believed to have murdered Edward Kendall. Zane had so many questions, and he wasn’t going to find the answers with Bradford being a dick.
“So...jeans and a shirt?”
Zane shook his head. “Regina is taller. I’m not sure her jeans would fit her.”
“Ah,” Bradford said. “I think I know what to give you.” He pulled out a blue skirt and matching blouse and handed it to Zane.
Zane turned to leave, but stopped when Bradford said, “She has everything else, I assume?”
“What do you mean?” Zane glanced over his shoulder.
“Are you really that obtuse?” He lifted a brow mockingly. “I thought you were savvier then that.”
What the hell was Bradford spouting on about now? His head was starting to hurt from all the banter. He wanted to leave and forget about this exchange altogether. Was that too much to ask? Apparently, it was because he wasn’t going to make the clean escape he’d been hoping desperately for. He silently prayed for patience and said, “I’m not going to presume to understand what the hell you are talking about. Why don’t you explain it to me? Use small words because, clearly, I’m not firing on all cylinders.” If Bradford kept it up, he wouldn’t be either.
“Ladies need more than a skirt and blouse. Does she have undergarments? Shoes?”
She—didn’t. At least nothing of the modern variety. She probably didn’t even understand how to work a brassiere and would scoff at what women called panties. The skirt and blouse were not going to do it. Callista would need proper attire, and he didn’t like the idea of borrowing something so intimate from Regina. An idea formed and he turned. “Do you happen to have Regina’s gown from last night?”
“Pardon?” Bradford said. “I thought you said this wasn’t a formal occasion. ‘Not a date,’ if I recall.”
“It’s not,” Zane confirmed. “But as she was wearing a gown when she arrived...” Completely the truth, but not all the details though. Bradford didn’t need to know that. “Her undergarments are more fitted to formal wear.”
Bradford shook his head. “I suspect there is a story here, and one day you will tell me all. Give me the clothes back.”
Zane handed him the skirt and blouse. Bradford hung them back in the closet and pulled a garment bag from the closet. He gave it to Zane and said, “There are shoes at the bottom of the bag if your lady needs them. I’m not sure if they will fit or not. Please ask her to be careful with them if she does use them. Regina is weird about shoes, and she was quite ecstatic to get that particular pair.”
Maybe it would be better if Callista didn’t use them. Her own slippers, while not matching, probably would work best anyway. For now though, he’d take them with him. This time with Bradford had already taken far longer than he anticipated. He could always return the shoes later.
“Thank you,” Zane said and left Bradford to his own devices. He was exhausted from the exchange.
He headed back down the hall and entered his room. Callista didn’t know she’d spent the night in his chambers. Zane suspected when she realized that little tidbit she’d become enraged. It was rather perverse, but he looked forward to it. When he walked over to the bed, he expected to find her there and was surprised to discover the bed empty. Where the hell had she gone? He’d have to go in search of her. He set the garment bag on the bed and left to locate the countess. In a house the size of Seabrook that could take a very long time. Damn it...
CHAPTER FOUR
Callista couldn’t stand being told what to do. It was one of her many faults she didn’t make any excuses for. Zane had told her to wait in the room for him to return, so naturally she’d done the exact opposite. She should have been uncomfortable in the clothing she’d been given to wear, but found she didn’t care what others thought of her. So what if they believed her to be a wanton. They didn’t know her, and she wasn’t going to be defined by their expectations of what a lady should be.
She wound her way down the stairs. The wood was cold on her bare feet. Her impetuous decision was coming back to haunt her. There was no turning back now though. Zane could search for her clothing, and in the meantime, she’d become acquainted with his home. If he truly was the Marquess of Seabrook, and this was years in the future, she could figure it out for herself. In a strange way, the little he’d said had made sense. It explained how he seemed so familiar to her. His golden blond hair was similar to Dom’s, and some of his features mirrored her former associate as well. How much did Zane take after Dom? Callista looked forward to discovering it all. For the first time in forever, she was excited to see where life took her.
Callista rounded a corner and slowly walked down a hallway. The plush carpet was a welcome change and warmed her feet. Voices carried down the corridor and drew her attention. She made her way toward them to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“You’re going about this all wrong,” a woman said. “If you allow me to help, this will go a lot faster.”
“Go back upstairs to your husband, Gina,” a man replied. “This is my problem, and I won’t drag you into it.”
Fascinating. They argued as if they knew each other well. How much she wasn’t sure though. The two could be related, but it was hard to tell. Once she was able to see them perhaps that would explain it a little more. If they resembled each other it would be a decent assumption they were related—if not, she’d have to ask at some point. That is if she remained curious enough to find out.
“Bradford can get by just fine without me for a little while. He’d want me to help—hell, he wants to help too. Quit pushing us both away.”
Callista continued to move down the hallway toward the sound of their voices. They were being rather loud, and she could hear it all in vivid detail. She hadn’t been this excited in, well, she couldn’t remember when. The spy in her craved more information though, so she inched closer to the room and stayed as quiet as possible with each step she took.
“Yes, Your Grace,” he said, mockingly. “Why must you always get your way?”
Was the woman a duchess? That was interesting. Callista’s curiosity grew with each sentence the two individuals uttered. Who exactly was Bradford? He was the woman’s husband and assumedly a duke... As close as Dom had been to the Duke of Weston—was this the current Duchess of Weston? That would make logical sense if the two families had remained close throughout the years and she was in the future as Zane had proclaimed.
“How long have you known me?” the woman asked.
Callista moved closer and looked into the room. The woman had long light blonde hair that fell down her shoulders in waves. The man had dark brown hair and was striking. For a moment, she was transfixed by the sight of them. They were two beautiful people and more importantly—neither one wore clothing she was familiar with.
The woman wore dark pants and a brilliant blue blouse. They were quite form-fitting and left little to the imagination—when had women started to wear such scandalous attire? The man’s wasn’t as shocking. Fashion changed all the time, but his appeared more respectable. He had on a white shirt and dark blue trousers. They weren’t what she was used to, but they weren’t unappealing.
It appeared Zane might be telling the truth. She discovered little things that had changed the more she investigated. There were no candle sconces along the walls. Instead, there were marvelous lights that she had no idea how they worked. She’d tried to lift the lid off, but they were fastened too securely, and now the two people in front of her gave her further evidence.
She sighed, and they both turned toward her. Callista had tuned them out and had not realized they’d stopped speaking. Damn it. Now she’d have to explain who she was and had no idea what to tell them. Her first mistake was making herself visible in the door frame. If she’d kept to the shadows they’d never have seen her. Oh well, no turning back.
“Who are you?” the woman asked.
A little rude, but considering she was the interloper she could excuse it—for now. Callista didn’t answer. She studied them both for several moments, trying to decide what to say. They hadn’t appeared shocked to see her and didn’t seem fazed by her clothing. That was a little telling too. Did women dress so
scantily in this time? The current duchess in front of her didn’t even have a gown on. She was wearing—breeches. Callista was a little jealous of that. She’d love to have a pair to wear.
“Are you lost?” the man asked.
He at least was a little friendlier. Was the woman usually so vulgar and uninviting? Although, perhaps she was being too harsh... Women generally didn’t’ look upon her favorably; whereas men didn’t look past her beauty. They were more congenial because of her outer appearance. Something she used to her advantage often.
She turned toward him and shook her head. “Not exactly.”
The woman pinned her with a fierce glare. “I see you answer him, but totally ignore me. Don’t tell me you’re one of those kinds of women.”
What the hell was she talking about? “I wish I could say I understand your inference, but I don’t.”
“Be nice, Gina,” the man said. “She’s probably one of Zane’s guests, and I don’t want to offend him.”
Well, Zane was good for something. This was his house and they didn’t want to upset him. Callista could use that to her advantage if necessary. Technically, she was a guest. Zane had offered to help her, and it appeared as if she’d have to take him up on it.
“So, do you have a name or are we going to say, ‘hey you,’ every time we need to get your attention?”
Callista’s lips tilted upward. She liked the duchess and rather looked forward to becoming more familiar with her. “Are all women in this time so forward?”
The man froze at her words. What had she said that made him stop and stare at her? Was it the stuff about time? Maybe she shouldn’t have said that part. Time travel wasn’t exactly a well-known quantity. Who, besides Zane would ever believe her? Then again, why would he immediately have done so, and why would this man she had yet to be introduced to do so as well? It was all rather odd and she was having trouble adjusting.
