The Time Baroness (The Time Mistress Series) Read Free Page B

America, she would say). There were creams and lotions—more than enough for her year’s stay.
    Cassandra went back to her suitcase and removed her nightgown. She had insisted to Betsy that she unpack her own things; this was easier than worrying about what might arouse curiosity. She took off her gown and stiff undergarments, leaving on her bloomers, stockings, and chemise. (Shannon had insisted that she wear a lighter, shorter version of a corset, which she said the fashionable ladies wore at the time under their dressy clothes). She threw her nightgown over her thermal underthings, shivering. She quickly cleansed her face with her specially prepared creams and brushed her teeth with the sort of toothpowder and toothbrush that looked authentic to the time period but were, in fact, undetectably enhanced to perform up to modern standards. She was relieved not to have to take the time to remove make-up. Even though she’d had her eyelashes and eyebrows permanently dyed, and subtle, but permanent color applied to her lips, she was still used to wearing a little bit. Well, it’s all natural for me from now on, she thought. Okay, not quite all natural.
    Finally, she removed a vintage perfume bottle from her case. She removed the stopper, which extracted a little glass wand. Once she applied the lavender-scented liquid to her wrists it would work subcutaneously and she would be asleep within a minute. Time travel was upsetting to the body’s natural rhythms, and though it was dark outside, her body had not adjusted to the time of day. This night was the zenith of nearly a lifetime’s work. Anything could happen, anything could go wrong. She needed her wits about her and she needed sleep. She touched the cold wand of the sleep aid to her wrists, extinguished the candles, and climbed under the thick covers of the bed, confident that the bug powder had done its job. She snuggled in to get warm and noticed that the bed smelled of unidentifiable soap, of sheets still damp from the London air. Her heart was pounding with all that lay before her. But the sleep aid started doing its work, her heartbeat slowed, her breathing deepened, and she closed her eyes on the first few hours of her new life in Regency England.
******
    In the morning she woke to a soft rap on the door.
    “Come in!” she called from the warm bed.
    A key turned in the lock as Cassandra peered out from under the covers. The cold in the room stung her face.
    “Good morning, ma’am,” declared Betsy as she entered. “I’ve come to light your fire and bring you some warm water for bathing. I could even arrange a tub for you if you please, after your long journey.”
    A bath sounded good but complicated. “I think I shall make do with the basin for now; thank-you, but perhaps later.”
    “Very well, ma’am.” Cassandra watched Betsy stoke up the fire from the snug warmth of her bed. “Would you like me to open the curtains?”
    “I shall do it, Betsy, thank you so much.” She envied the thick fabric of the maid’s dress.
    Betsy hesitated. “Very well. And how about yer breakfast, ma’am. Shall I bring it up or would y’ care to have it downstairs in the parlor?”
    “I think I will take it up here,” replied Cassandra; she wasn’t quite ready to make small talk with the other guests. She considered it better to seem a little shy for now, and build up to the socializing in due time. She suddenly felt insecure about everything from her clothes to her mannerisms. She knew she was well studied and trained, but in spite of the help from all her coaches and the simulations, she knew she would eventually make mistakes.
    “Very good, ma’am… if there is nothing else—”
    “No Betsy, that will be all.”
    “Very well then, I will leave you to yerself, and I will have yer breakfast in about twenty minutes.”
    “Sounds wonderful, thank you.”
    Betsy’s smile faded as she glanced around the room again. Cassandra just stared at her, at a loss for