A Stolen Season: Bath: A Stolen Season Book 2 Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  A Stolen Season: London

  Series by Tamara Gill

  About the Author

  Copyright

  A Stolen Season: Bath

  A Stolen Season series, Book 2

  Copyright © 2021 by Tamara Gill

  Cover Art by Wicked Smart Designs

  Editor Grace Bradley Editing, LLC

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a database and retrieval system or transmitted in any form or any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the owner of copyright and the above publishers.

  * * *

  **WARNING: This book contains scenes of domestic violence. **

  Chapter 1

  1821 Bath, England

  And so it began. How he had ended up back in nineteenth-century England again, Richard could not exactly say, but at least this time he was alone, and his partner had not killed a prominent earl.

  His lips quirked at the memory of his good friend and fellow archaeologist Sarah, now the Countess of Earnston who was happily married and settled in Earnston Estate in Kent. However, she was due to arrive here within the next few days to give him credibility in society and make his investigations less conspicuous.

  He strode along Brook Street in Bath, smiling and nodding to those who took the time to greet him. He was new to the city, nineteenth-century Bath at least. He knew the town very well in his own time, but that was not why he was here.

  He stopped at a street corner, watching the ton—who’d traveled to the Roman baths believing the water held medicinal properties that would cure them of their ills—at play. Little did they know the baths did nothing for their health, but he was not here to teach them a better standard of living. He needed to allow history to do that.

  With traffic clear enough to cross the street, he started for the house that Sarah and her husband had rented for the duration of their stay. He was staying with them, and an inordinate amount of excitement thrummed through his veins at seeing Sarah again.

  She was like a sister to him, and he cared for her deeply and had missed her the same amount. Three years she had been gone from his time, and yet it seemed like forever. His time here, however, was not his own, not entirely for a friendly catch-up. He had a mystery to solve, and one that puzzled not only himself but his fellow archaeologist in twenty-first-century England.

  The line of Georgian mansions that edged the Royal Crescent stretched out before him, grand and imposing, elegant, and all but shouted upper class and wealthy well-to-do society.

  Richard started for the address Sarah had left for him at the house TimeArch had purchased in London for their original jaunt back in time. The property now owned by Sarah was there permanently should anyone need to come back to this time. Which, as it would have it, was the case with this trip.

  Having traveled by stagecoach from London two days before, he looked forward to a change of clothes and a bath. Not only that, once rested, he intended to get to the bottom of the archaeological dig that was frustrating them to no end in the future. He would not leave until he found out the location of the de Vere estate and the mystery surrounding the lady of the house, the marchioness.

  It was odd that not even a stone remained on the site they were investigating, no foundations, walls, anything. It had only left them with one possibility, and that was they were looking in the wrong spot. It had been two hundred years after all. A lot could be lost in translation and record keeping in that amount of time.

  The door to the town house opened as if the footman had been following his progress and knew when he was to arrive.

  "Lord Stanley?" the young liveried man asked.

  Richard nodded. "Hello, yes, you are expecting me?" he queried, hoping that was the case and that he would not have any troubles settling in at this address.

  "We have been expecting you, my lord. If you would come this way," the young man suggested, opening the door wider. Another young lad came and collected his trunk before the original footman gestured for him to follow. "This way if you please."

  Richard took in the house, the marble staircase that split halfway up to the top floors of the home. There were four rooms off the main foyer and two doors past the main staircase. He supposed that led to the kitchens and servants’ area.

  He followed the footman into a parlor and felt his heart soar. "Sarah!" he shouted, striding toward her as she approached him. She was as beautiful and happy as he remembered her.

  Richard pulled her into an embrace, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. How he had missed his partner in time. A friend he had to say goodbye to so she could marry the man she loved. Her soul mate.

  The Earl of Earnston joined them, clapping him on the back. "It is good to see you, Richard. I know Sarah was beyond thrilled to receive notice that TimeArch was returning to our time, and you were the one coming back."

  He kissed the top off Sarah's head, reluctantly letting her go to shake the earl's hand. "I was excited to return and see you both too. How have you been? Tell me all the news," he said as they made their way over to the settee to sit.

  A tray of tea and biscuits sat before them, and Sarah poured him a cup, grinning as she handed him his refreshment.

  "I cannot tell you how quickly I ordered our trunks to be packed and for us to travel to Bath to see you. I know that we said we would arrive after you, but I simply could not stay in Kent with you in Somerset. Did father send me a letter? Is he well? How is the company and everyone?"

  He chuckled, sipping his tea and reveling in the refreshing drink and Sarah and Eric's company again. It was what he needed after the many miles on the jarring road between London and Bath.

  "Everyone is well and busy." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a thick letter, handing it to Sarah. "This is from your father. He told me to say that he loves and misses you and hopes you're well and happy. Which," Richard stated, smiling, "I can see that you both are."

  Sarah beamed, taking the letter and clasping it close. "I'm so glad all is well. I have missed you all, too, so much."

  "How are you enjoying nineteenth-century living, Sarah? I am curious," Richard asked. He supposed the conversation would be a little weird for Eric, but then he had no doubt Sarah had informed him of everything of her previous life. There would be no secrets between them now.

  "Very well, thank you. I've become quite the society lady. I voluntee
r at the small parish school we have near Earnston estate, and I have been traveling. We're hoping to start a family soon."

  Richard smiled, already knowing the earl and countess would have several children, not that he would tell her so or what sexes they would be. That was for him to know and for them to find out. "I'm glad you're putting your intellect to good use and helping to educate others."

  "I do love it, almost as much as I love my dear husband," she teased, grinning at Eric, who watched their play of conversation with something akin to wonder. He supposed the earl would not be used to hearing such open discussions between men and women who were not married. Certainly not in this time, at least.

  "I hope our frank discussion is not uncomfortable, my lord," Richard stated, not wanting to make the earl feel that way. He was certainly fond of his Lordship and knew him to be a good man and perfect for his friend. "I forget that the times here are different from my own."

  "Not at all," the earl said, waving his concerns aside. "I am well-used to how my wife is, and I adore her all the more for being honest to herself."

  Richard watched the play between the pair, the love between them was almost palpable.

  "So tell me," Sarah said, catching Richard's eye. "Why is it that I'm graced with your delightful presence? There must be a reason?"

  "As to that," he said, settling back into the silk settee and basking in its comfort. "We have an issue. We've been trying to locate an estate near Bath, but there is no sign of the property, even after we did radar imaging of the grounds where it was supposed to be located. No hidden foundations of walls, no artifacts, nothing. But we know the estate once stood, and the last report of the property was in the 1820 census. I'm here to find its exact location, note the location as best I can, and return home to continue our dig."

  Sarah raised her brow. "That is odd that there is no footprint of the building. How certain are you that it stands in this time and it is not an error in the records?"

  "We believe we know who owns the property and land, the Marquess de Vere. He married in 1818 and not long after retired to his ancestral property near Bath, de Vere Hall. The house reportedly burned to the ground sometime in 1821, but that is all we know of it."

  "Why are you so interested in the estate?" Eric asked, coming to sit beside his wife and taking her hand in his.

  Richard masked his smile at their tactile love. "The house was reportedly one Queen Elizabeth stayed at during her reign, and her grandfather before, Henry the seventh. I'm merely here to survey the exact location, and then I shall leave you be."

  Sarah scrunched up her face. "We love having you here. Even if you find the estate's location, you must stay for several weeks. I shall hear of nothing less."

  He chuckled, not certain that would be a possibility. Not with how time travel worked. "I shall have to figure out my timeline, but I will try," he said, placating her. "Of course, for every year in the past a week passes in the future, so I’m not too restricted on time.” He paused. “Do you know the marquess, or have you heard of the family?"

  The distaste on his Lordship's face piqued Richard's interest. "I'm not certain you would want to know," the earl said, his tone one of repulsion.

  Richard leaned forward in his chair. "Whyever not?" he asked, needing to know.

  "Because he's a bastard, and you'll have almost no luck in gaining entry to the property without him trying to shoot you off your horse," the earl stated, the shock on Sarah's face telling Richard she did not know this information either.

  Expectation ran through his blood, the thought of another nineteenth-century adventure just what he needed. "Tell me more," he said, settling in to hear everything. "And tell me about the marchioness. I'm interested in her too."

  Chapter 2

  The earl settled himself farther into his chair, steepling his fingers before him. "Lord de Vere married an heiress, Lady de Vere now, obviously, but she was from the wealthy Arden family located in Lincolnshire. Surprisingly, they made a fortune in copper mines in Cornwall, I believe. She debuted in London the year I met Sarah. I remember this because there was outrage over the understanding. It was cruel that her parents put rank above the happiness of their daughter, but then they have not been the first to do so and will not be the last."

  "I do not remember hearing of this myself. Whatever happened, my love?" Sarah asked, frowning at her husband.

  "I cannot believe you do not remember the furor of some of the debutantes, my dear. But then, mayhap, it was only discussed in detail at the gentleman's club."

  Richard listened, wondering where this story was going. "What happened that upset everyone?"

  The earl grimaced as he regaled his tale. "The young woman was older than some of the other debutantes, debuting at one and twenty. But Lord de Vere was one and sixty. A quite grotesque marriage in my opinion, and one I should not have allowed had she been my daughter."

  Sarah gasped, and Richard swallowed the distaste he felt at hearing of young women being married off to much older men. How disgusting. The poor young woman must have suffered. "Did Lady de Vere wish for the union, or was she against it?" Richard couldn't help but ask.

  The earl scoffed. "She was against it, wholeheartedly. She did not want to marry a man three times her age, and I could not understand her parents pushing for the union, not when it was rumored the Duke of Melbury was an interested party and at a more appropriate age. A more fitting match in everyone's estimation."

  Richard thought over what the earl was saying. Maybe there were other factors at play, debt, less money in the heiress’s pockets than they were letting the ton believe. Or perhaps, the marquess was the first to ask, and fearful there would be no other titled gentlemen knocking on their doors to offer the hand of marriage, they had agreed to the union and pushed for the match to go ahead.

  A cold shiver stole down his back. "Is Lady de Vere out in Bath society, or does she remain at this elusive estate I'm yet to locate?"

  "She never circulates in society now. Lord de Vere dislikes it, but then I have heard from Anita, my cousin, you remember, that her Ladyship was at several Bath events last week. So perhaps she is going against her husband's decree and doing what she wants once and for all."

  Richard grinned, and Sarah, ever watchful and not missing a beat, wagged a finger at him. "Do not even think about flirting with Eric's cousin and my friend Lady Anita. She is married and happily so, but I will give you leave to find out more about Lady de Vere and this mystery estate she owns."

  "There is no mystery to the estate. It is located just two miles out of Bath on the Bath-to-London road. You cannot miss it. It sits in a gully, and when you travel the road, most carriages will give you a view of the roof of the estate nestled within dense woodland."

  Two miles out of Bath? Perhaps their dig was farther than that. Where they were currently excavating, they were not in a gully at all. They must be in the wrong location.

  "I promise not to accost Lady Anita, no matter how much I look forward to seeing her again," he teased, knowing Sarah would think he would once again try to tease her away from her husband, but he had not and would not do such a thing. Lady Anita was happily married, and he adored her as a friend and nothing more. "As for the house, I will attempt to meet Lord de Vere and attain an invitation, or if you feel so inclined, the Earl and Countess of Earnston could always put in a good word for me."

  Sarah chuckled, shaking her head at his words. "I shall help you in any way I can, and so too will Eric. We will ensure you have a good visual of the house before you leave, if not a tour of the estate. I'm certain with our connections in society, we shall be able to solve this mystery to make your dig a successful one."

  Richard certainly hoped so, for he was counting on it.

  * * *

  Catriona, Marchioness de Vere sat at the dining table and picked at the pigeon on her plate, the idle chatter and vexatious compliments from her husband to his mistress who sat at his side grating on her every nerve.

/>   How she loathed the old, devious bastard. But then, how she hated her parents for saddling her with such a disgusting marriage and life. She would never understand their throwing her to the wolf in sheep's clothing, although she had long known that Lord de Vere only wanted to marry her for her fortune and nothing more.

  Society may not know what a scandalous rogue he was behind closed doors, but they soon would. She was determined to reenter society and would not lie to her peers regarding her husband's antics if asked. After years of living under his brutal hand, she would no longer protect him from those he wished to impress, even if that cost her reputation too.

  Not that she wanted to be the person he focused his attention on in any case. Thankfully, his interest had lasted their wedding night and never again. The quick deflowering had stung, and she gained little pleasure from it, even though she had heard whispers that women could gain much satisfaction from the act.

  There was no joy in this life. She loathed everything about her home and life here in Bath, and if she could, she would leave, divorce the man across from her, even if that meant she was tarnished and exiled from society.

  Life in a cottage on a windswept hill or coastal cliff would do very well. She did not need much, water and food and warmth, and life would be much more favorable than the one she currently lived.

  "Why do you look so forlorn?" Fanny pouted at Cait, knowing too well that Catriona did not want to speak to the mistress of her husband. Their conversations were never pleasant and lately had often ended with shouting.