Dress 2 Impress: A Jennifer Cloud Novel (Jennifer Cloud Series) Read online

  “I just want to make sure you aren’t going to stay behind for another shot at Rogue.”

  “I wouldnae dream of having all that fun without ye.”

  “OK, let’s go at the same time.”

  A wisp of wind blew a stray lock of my hair across my face. Caiyan reached out and tucked it into my cap. His eyes stayed on mine, and I felt the long stare of contemplation piercing the back of my mind.

  Caiyan leaned forward and kissed me good-bye. I entered my vessel and watched him enter his. I gave him a finger wave and sat there for a minute, going through the events of the past three days and trying to decide what to tell Jake.

  Chapter 2

  Three days earlier

  We followed Rogue to London, 1602. The WTF is certain Rogue is trying to get the key to Lord Mafuso before Queen Elizabeth kicks the bucket in March of 1603. After that, Mary Stuart’s son becomes king and Lord Mafuso loses his head.

  Caiyan and I were to land at the estate of Lord Bryant. He was hosting a ball for his niece, Lady Sarah. The estate grounds were quite substantial and offered us cover for landing. After a rocky ride, I landed with a big thump. Our vessel chooses the clothing for our journey, making it impossible to tell we are not from this time. Mine had me in some kind of frilly mess. I had material pushed up against my face, confining me against the back of the outhouse. A large collar of lace ringed my neck and scratched at my face.

  I heard Caiyan wrench my vessel door open, and the cool air swept into my outhouse like a winter gale.

  “Lass, are ye OK?”

  “Get me out of here. I’m suffocating.” I gestured to the mounds of silk and lace. “What is all this?”

  Caiyan pulled the large hoopskirt down, and I saw his face for the first time since our landing. I gasped. His dark wavy hair was pulled back tight against his head. Long sideburns framed his face, and he had a ponytail. I was certain that when we left, his hair only grazed the neck of his shirt. A fancy handkerchief collar covered his key. Caiyan pulled me out, and I surveyed the outcome of our dress change.

  “Looks like we’re going to a ball,” he said, looking down at his pantaloons. His green velvet evening jacket fit like a glove and only enhanced the color of his eyes.

  I, on the other hand, was all hoopskirts, lace, and satin from neck to toes. I had long gloves that stopped at the elbow. My dress had a keyhole bodice that displayed my milky-white cleavage. I felt like a bejeweled Scarlet O’Hara.

  Caiyan’s eyes roamed the length of my dress and stopped at the keyhole.

  “Ye look perfect.”

  I felt a steady stream of anxiety start in the pit of my stomach and head straight for my heart. The reality of pretending to be a seventeenth-century lady of the courts gave me chills. Caiyan pulled me to him as our vessels disappeared into the night. He was warm, and his familiar smell of piney woods and cinnamon wrapped around me like an invisible cloak, disguising all my insecurities. He looked down at me and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. My lower half caught fire. I don’t know why that simple gesture always made my heart flip. It was the first thing he did when we met—well, after he abducted me—and it still makes me go all gooey inside.

  He smiled. “Don’t look at me like that, lassie, or we’ll have to see what ye have on under that dress.”

  I rolled my eyes because I was pretty sure I was commando under all this fluff.

  The night had begun to make its appearance, and walking in the wooded part of the estate created a challenge for me in my ball gown. Caiyan had to stop and untangle me from the underbrush as we made our way to the edge of the main grounds. Scents of moist soil and freshly trimmed greenery met us as we drew closer to the well-manicured gardens. Torches lit the walkway, several people were scattered about around a large fountain, and bits of conversation floated our way. We stuck close to the shadows until we could ease into the scene without being noticed. Caiyan offered his arm, and I rested my gloved hand in the crook of his elbow. We strolled around the garden, gazing at the full moon like the other guests.

  “Is that your real hair?” I asked, tugging on his ponytail.

  “Aye, sometimes the vessel gives me hair that fits with the time. The last time I was in 1985, it gave me hair like Dee Snider from Twisted Sister. Ye should have seen me trying to tame that beast.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the picture he painted. We rounded a corner and saw a group of men standing next to a statue of a lion. One of the men was flailing his arms in animated conversation, and the others were laughing. The man at the center of the conversation excused himself from the group and walked toward us. As he approached, I could tell by his stature that he was a man of importance, with dark hair that had started to gray at the temples. He wore a black waistcoat, and unlike Caiyan’s fuller pantaloons, his trousers were long. He was walking with his head high and shoulders back in spite of his hand-carved cane.

  “Let me do the talking, aye?” Caiyan ordered, but he added his Scottish rhetorical gab of a question at the end to make me feel like I had a say in the matter.

  “I am Lord Bryant. Have I the pleasure of your names?”

  “Yes, I am Lord Caiyan McGregor; this is my sister, Lady Jennifer.”

  “Sister!” I spat out.

  Caiyan raised a brow at me. We had orders to be husband and wife. The WTF thought it was wise to go in as a married couple. They felt we would be more easily accepted into upper society. Lord Richard Bryant III was our contact. He was a known traveler researched by the WTF. He was about sixty years old and had recently passed his key to his grandson, Lord Richard Bryant V.

  Lord Bryant winked at me. “On occasion, I too have a sister I take to out-of-town functions.”

  “My sister is a little weary from our travels,” Caiyan said.

  Lord Bryant nodded his head in agreement. “How are you here at my party uninvited?”

  “If I could have a word in private with you, my lord,” Caiyan said as he peeled down the layers of his collar to reveal his key.

  “Yes, let’s do just that,” Lord Bryant agreed, looking around suspiciously as if brigands were hiding in the bushes.

  He escorted us to the main house. Guests looked at us questioningly as we passed, and two large men flanked us as we made our way to the main house. Lord Bryant had bodyguards. We entered through a side door and walked down a dark, narrow hall illuminated with candle sconces. Lord Bryant stopped outside a set of double doors, and one of the large men entered first, followed by Lord Bryant. I would call the room a study or office in my time. I overheard Lord Bryant refer to it as the drawing room. Dark wood paneled the walls, and several beautiful tapestries were hung on them like art at the Louvre. A long walnut desk was centered in the room under a two-tier chandelier, and a stone fireplace behind Lord Bryant’s desk was lit, warming the room.

  Lord Bryant turned as Caiyan and I entered behind him. The two men who had followed us into the house stood at attention outside the door. A male servant appeared and waited for Lord Bryant’s command. Lord Bryant offered us something to drink, and Caiyan declined for both of us.

  “That will be all.” He gave the servant a head nod, and the man exited, closing the door behind him.

  He pointed his cane at Caiyan’s neck. “Let me see it again.”

  Caiyan obeyed and removed his lacy collar. The blazing sun etched in his moonstone lay flat against his chest. The diamonds that filled the sun’s rays reflected the glow from the fire.

  “I have never seen this one. Who are your people?” Lord Bryant examined the key with avid curiosity.

  “Clan McGregor, before that Scandinavian, more precisely, Viking.”

  “Your travel year?” he asked.

  “2015,” Caiyan responded.

  “Good God!” He placed a hand over his heart in disbelief. “What is it like three hundred years from now?”

  “Crowd
ed,” I answered.

  Lord Bryant raised both eyebrows.

  “And the women often speak out of turn,” Caiyan said, annoyed I was obviously still pouting about the “sister” thing. My inner voice told me to get a grip. I was here on a mission, and if Caiyan thought I should be his sister, then so be it. He had more experience in the field than me. My inner voice tucked her pencil behind her ear, and I wished she would wipe that satisfied smile off her face.

  Caiyan nudged me with his elbow, bringing me back from my internal lecture, and I wondered if I had missed a question from Lord Bryant.

  Lord Bryant laughed and asked, “How can I help you?”

  After the whole out-of-turn thing, I let Caiyan do the explaining. “We are looking for a lady’s maid who once served Mary Stuart.”

  “I know of the key, and I also know Mary didn’t have the gift of travel.” Lord Bryant put a finger to his lips.

  “Aye, a brigand is after that key. We need to find this maiden before he does.”

  “I do not have anyone in my employ who has served Queen Mary, but some of London’s elite are here tonight, and maybe she exists with them.” He placed a finger on his chin. “I will introduce you as the son and daughter of my childhood friend.”

  Lord Bryant escorted us to the ballroom. A string quartet was playing in the corner of the room hidden by a lovely paneled screen, and a large number of people were dancing. The minuet, I think. There was no time for dancing lessons before our mission, so I hoped that Caiyan would keep me off the dance floor. I knew how to do the two-step, but the intricate moves of the seventeenth-century Baroque-style dancing were way out of my league.

  As we entered the ballroom, the high-swept ceilings supported by the intricate Greek-inspired columns made me feel as if I had walked into a royal palace.

  The women were dressed in a similar fashion to me. A group of ladies were engaged in a conversation to our left. A woman with hair Marie Antoinette would have been envious of immediately greeted Lord Bryant.

  “Darling, who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

  “My dear, this is Lord McGregor and his sister Lady Jennifer of the Inverness McGregors.” He waved a hand in presentation. “My wife, Lady Eleanor.”

  Her look of surprise indicated we were not on the guest list. “The son and daughter of a dear childhood friend of mine.” He coughed into a balled-up fist. “I wasn’t sure they would make the trip,” Lord Bryant added.

  “How wonderful of you to come all this way.”

  She offered her hand to Caiyan, and he kissed her gloved fingers. “Lord McGregor, is there a wife at your manor?”

  “No, I am afraid I have not found the woman of my dreams.”

  I stiffened next to him. The last month of incredible sex must have slipped his mind.

  “Come, let me introduce you to some of our young ladies.”

  Caiyan gave me the play-along face, and I gave him a smirk back. I watched as Lady Eleanor escorted him off, and a gaggle of girls swarmed around him.

  As I was contemplating several ways to torture him later, I scoped out the situation. There was no sign of Rogue. Most of the attendees were young—sixteen to twenty, I would guess. There was a scattering of people about my age, and then the chaperone age of about thirty-five and older.

  Lord Bryant returned with a glass of wine.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking a sip.

  Walking toward me was a nice-looking man with dark hair and a slim build.

  “Lord Wadsworth,” Lord Bryant greeted. “May I present Lady Jennifer McGregor.”

  He took my hand and kissed my gloved fingertips. The sound of “Lady McGregor” had a nice ring to it, and my inner voice was doodling it on her notebook. I mentally told her to grow up. At least I thought it was mentally, but then Lord Wadsworth turned to me and asked, “I beg your pardon?”

  I was searching for an excuse when the male servant from earlier spoke abruptly behind me, startling me a little. He seemed always to be lurking about. “Lord Bryant, you are needed in the dining hall.”

  Lord Bryant stared at me for an instant, as if he wasn’t sure if he should leave me alone. Finally, he nodded to his servant and left me alone with Lord Wadsworth.

  We watched Caiyan waltz with a young woman on the dance floor as if he was born a seventeenth-century lord.

  Lord Wadsworth saw me staring at Caiyan.

  “He is my brother,” I tried to explain.

  “Your brother is a very good dancer,” he said.

  “Yes, he has always been very good at everything.”

  I might have said this a little too profoundly, because he looked at me.

  “Would you care to dance, my lady?”

  “I’m sorry, my lord, I am not swift on my feet.” I was making an attempt at the verbiage of this time. Jake had me reading historical romance novels and working with a linguistics coach the week before to prepare for this trip. I had the accent down, but the dialect was much more difficult.

  “Might I suggest a stroll out on the terrace?”

  “Sure,” I replied. Anything to get away from watching the debutantes drool over Caiyan.

  I handed my glass to a servant standing near the exit, and we walked out onto the terrace.

  “The gardens are lovely,” I said, moving toward the edge of the veranda for a better view. The full moon cast a beautiful glow over the torch-lit gardens below.

  “Not as lovely as you,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist.

  I stepped away, causing his arm to drop from my waist. A cool breeze blew across the veranda and caused me to shiver.

  “Are you cold?” he asked. “Let’s walk closer to the building. It will provide shelter from the night’s wind.”

  A small snicker escaped from me. The night’s wind. I felt like I was one of the women in distress in the historical romance novels I’d read for research. He escorted me toward a lanai that ran next to the house and had open arches running down one side with stone benches about every third arch for couples to rest. The lanai was not as well lit as the veranda, and I felt Lord Wadsworth getting a bit close for my taste.

  As I was about to suggest we go back inside, he pulled me into the shadows and his hand came up to grope my breast. He squeezed as if it was a summer melon, checking if it was ripe enough to be picked.

  I gave a yelp in pain and slapped his arm away. “Lord Wadsworth, this is highly inappropriate.”

  He made a move to kiss me on the mouth.

  “Lord Wadsworth, really, you must stop this immediately.”

  “I know you would like to kiss me,” he said, making another go at it.

  My huge skirt prevented me from doing my signature move, knee to the balls. I thought about screaming, but that might screw up our mission. My childhood mantra began playing in my head: I’m spunky and I’m fierce and I’m smarter than most men. Bad guys run and hide ’cuz here comes SuperJen.

  I allowed him to go in for the kiss and bit him hard on the lip.

  “You bitch!” he yelled as he pulled away. A drop of blood stained his bottom lip. He reached for a handkerchief and began blotting his lip. “I should strike you for that.”

  “Get away from me, you pervert.” He looked confused at my words.

  “Why, Lord Wadsworth, what young lady are you holding hostage out here on the terrace?” a voice asked from behind Lord Wadsworth.

  He turned, revealing a woman about my age. She was very petite with a tall blond wig and a tiny waist.

  “Lady Sarah. I was just instructing Lady Jennifer about the ways of the court.” He waved his hankie at her. “Apparently, she has not been educated.”

  “Why, Lord Wadsworth, you seem to have bitten your lip. You should go see my mother. She has the perfect remedy to take the swelling down.”

  “Swelling?” He looked alarmed
.

  “Why yes, your lip looks about the size of a summer cherry.”

  He covered his mouth with his hankie and left us immediately.

  “When a man asks you to walk on the terrace, it is an invitation for a little frivolous flirtation,” the woman told me.

  “I didn’t know,” I said.

  “I am Lady Sarah. The niece of Lord Bryant.”

  “Thanks for saving me,” I said. “Hey, aren’t you the guest of honor?”

  “Yes, my uncle sent me in search of you.” She raised her eyebrows at my slang, and my inner self drew a slash under my mistakes column. I felt six feet tall next to her small frame. “He told me you are the daughter of a mate from his youth.”

  “Yes, from Scotland. My father was the Duke of Hamilton.” I held my breath, hoping the title would not prove false. There were so many names to remember and so many heads cut off, I lost count. Jake had given me a bio, but I was supposed to be married to Lord McGregor because my father was a duke. In this time, the fathers usually arranged marriages based on social status. In other words, I was a good catch with a large dowry, so no questions would be asked about why Caiyan and I were wed. I was definitely the daughter of the Duke of Hamilton—or was it Hampton? Jeez.

  She put a finger to her lips. “I haven’t met the Duke of Hamilton, but I have heard he is a fine man. I didn’t realize he had any children.”

  “Surely they haven’t been keeping me a secret. Are you sure?”

  “As sure as mayflies eat their young.”

  “Ewww.” I couldn’t help it.

  She laughed. “Come with me, and I will introduce you to a few distinguished men of the court, and you can tell me all about your brother.”

  Oh boy.

  Chapter 3

  Lady Sarah was certainly a draw. Men were fetching us cider and begging for dances, which she fended off with the need to introduce me. I met so many people; my head was beginning to ache from all the names I was trying to remember. As I was talking with the other women, Caiyan would waltz by with a pretty starry-eyed girl gazing up at him. I don’t think he ever left the dance floor. As soon as one song would end, another girl would be at his heels for a romp around the ballroom. Another of Sarah’s admirers had presented me with a glass of cider. I excused myself from the conversation and found a settee. My feet were killing me, and I was trying to figure out how to sit down in the enormous dress. If I sat down, the hoop was going to bell upward, exposing the ballroom inhabitants to my lack of undergarments. Easy to pee, not to sit. I perched on the edge of a tufted stool and carefully tucked the hoop of my dress under my bottom. This created a sort of balance, and I was able to sit and drink my cider. Lady Sarah came over and sat down beside me with the grace of a professional hoopskirt wearer.