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    Lady of the Stars
    Lady of the Stars
    Lady of the Stars
    Ebook162 pages2 hours

    Lady of the Stars

    By Linda Banche

    ()

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    About this ebook

    EPIC EBooks Award Finalist in Science Fiction Romance
    The Romance Reviews Finalist for Best in Historical Fantasy/Paranormal

    Legends are fun, but not real. Or are they?

    Facts rule twenty-first century astronomer Caroline’s life. And then she steps through that gazebo’s back doorway into Regency England, where she meets a man she knows she’ll never see again. But time travel, though improbable, is scientific fact.

    In mathematician Richard’s world, there’s no such thing as time travel. Until a woman who claims she’s from the future demolishes his view of reality.

    But legends certainly aren’t real. Richard can love Caroline, unconcerned by his family legend, which has lain dormant for centuries.

    Until the time is right. And now the time is right...

    A mainstream Regency time travel romance with science fiction elements. 34,000 words. A new version of the previous work, expanded and completely rewritten.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLinda Banche
    Release dateMar 4, 2016
    ISBN9781311318725
    Lady of the Stars
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    Author

    Linda Banche

    Welcome to My World of Historical Hilarity! I'm Linda Banche, and I write witty, sweet/sensual Regency romances with nary a rake or royal in sight. Most contain humor, some fantasy, and occasionally a little paranormal or science fiction. But comedy is my love, and I've created my own wacky blend of humor and Regency with stories that can elicit reactions from a gentle smile to a belly laugh. Like many other romance authors, I read romances for years before I wrote my own. Once I tried, I quickly discovered how difficult writing is. Did I stop? No, I'm persistent--that's French for "too stupid to quit". I live in New England and like aerobics and ducks. So, laugh along with me on a voyage back to the Regency era. Me and my ducks. Quack. Visit me at my website http://www.lindabanche.com for more information.

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      Book preview

      Lady of the Stars - Linda Banche

      Lady of the Stars

      By Linda Banche

      Published by Linda Banche at Smashwords

      Copyright 2008, 2016 Linda Banche

      Second Edition

      Discover other books by Linda Banche:

      A Similar Taste in Books

      A Mutual Interest in Numbers

      A Distinct Flair for Words

      A Gift from the Stars

      Goosed! or A Fowl Christmas

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Table of Contents

      Part I of Lady of the Stars

      Part II of Lady of the Stars

      Chapter 20 — The Final Chapter

      Author’s Note

      About Linda Banche

      Connect With Me!

      Discover Titles by Linda Banche

      Excerpt from A Gift From the Stars, Book 1 of The Regency Star Travelers

      End

      PART I

      CAROLINE

      Chapter 1

      Cheshire, England

      Summer, the Present Day

      Now, where did that come from?

      Caroline narrowed her eyes at the gazebo’s open back door.

      The round, open-air building with the pointed, thatched roof was one of dozens of similar structures that dotted the extensive grounds of the famous resort, Thornbell Manor, where she was on holiday. For the past two days, she had explored the sizeable property of mere and moor, and visited every gazebo she encountered. Each one displayed its number on a metal tag over the doorless entry, and she had made a game of writing down their numbers to tally how many there were.

      But all the other gazebos had one entrance. This one had two: the normal doorless opening where she had come in, and the actual door before her. How could she miss a second entry in so small a structure, especially one in her rented cottage’s garden?

      She slid her palm over the door’s cracked and weathered wood. Although the resort bore the stamp of the Georgian architectural style popular some two hundred years ago, the buildings were newly constructed with the latest materials, and then antiqued to create a worn aspect.

      Except here. This side of the gazebo was far older than the other end.

      She settled the straps of her hot pink backpack more firmly over her shoulders. What number could this opening have? The nameplate on the lintel read—1817. She frowned. The other entrance was labeled twenty. The largest number she had recorded in two days of gazebo-hopping was fifty-two.

      A mystery. She blew out a breath. Ordinarily, she would enjoy a good puzzle, but not now. For once the usually cloudy sky was blue and free of rain. Cheerful birdsong wafted through the air, and a pleasing odor of growing vegetation and damp earth filled her nostrils. This July day was too lovely and bright to waste, even if the air was still cool. With a little shiver, she tightened the belt of the knee-length sweater she’d thrown on over her jeans and tee shirt. Time to visit quaint little Siddington, its outermost buildings framed by the gazebo’s rear entry.

      The scene before her shimmered. Then a tall man walked into view directly outside the back door. He turned towards her.

      She gasped. Richard? The word quavered. No, he couldn’t be, but—Richard! Her voice rising to a shout, she hurtled through the aperture.

      Cold air blasted over her and multi-colored light bombarded her vision. She shuddered and clasped her arms around her as an irresistible force dragged her forward.

      Chapter 2

      Caroline pulled up short, and then blinked at the total darkness. Impossible. The grandfather clock in her cottage had struck noon as she’d locked the front door behind her. Was there a total solar eclipse today? Again, impossible. She was an astronomer. If an eclipse was due, she’d know.

      But where was that man? Heart pounding, she stumbled back. Then she dashed forward.

      She slammed into a wall. Off balance, she fell heavily atop the collapsing obstruction.

      The wall grunted.

      She froze. No, not a wall. Walls didn’t grunt.

      She pushed her hands against the whatever-it-was to lever herself up. Her fingers brushed coarse fabric covering warm flesh.

      What the devil? The voice was definitely male.

      Her blood iced. Here she was, alone in the dark with an unknown man. She had to get away! She leaned on his chest to swing her feet under her and then scrambled up.

      He cursed again.

      A small lantern tilted on its side spilled a meager radiance into the gloom. She squinted. The lantern contained a candle, of all things.

      The bulk before her moved. The lantern’s flickering flame illuminated a large man with a broken-topped box at his side. He rubbed his hip, probably where she had barreled into him.

      Holding her breath, she withdrew into the shadows. What had she thought, to chase after a stranger? The specter she’d pursued—and he could only be a specter—had disappeared. This man was real.

      Her every muscle tightened. Should she run? No, rapists didn’t carry lanterns or large boxes that broke open.

      But she was better off not letting him know she was here.

      ***

      Richard sat up. Damnation, what happened? He had been intent on lighting his way home when a battering ram crashed into him.

      He rubbed his fingers over his left side once more and then winced. A powerful one, too.

      Shifting his legs under him, he rose to his feet, and then turned in a slow circle. Where were his hat and lantern? The lantern had gone flying, but miraculously landed almost upright near the garden wall.

      More importantly, though, where was his telescope?

      As he bent toward the lantern, something by the wall moved. A footpad? He hadn’t taken his walking stick for protection. The neighborhood was so quiet he hadn’t seen the need.

      He maneuvered himself into the shadows. If need be, he could throw the lantern at his assailant. Who goes there?

      The figure slipped to the side, drifting closer to his new position.

      He lunged, nabbed a fistful of cloth and then hauled the figure close. A soft figure.

      She squeaked.

      She? He released her as if she burned his hands. Why was a woman out alone at night?

      She scurried away, her panting loud in the stillness.

      Madam, I mean you no harm. He lowered his arms to his sides, relaxed into an unthreatening posture and then held himself immobile.

      The woman’s pale clothing reverse-silhouetted her against the blackness of the wall, exposing her every move. Sticking out as she did, she couldn’t be a villain. If she had meant him ill, she would have worn dark garments.

      Her form halted and she felt behind her, as if searching for something. An exit? Mayhap she was frightened.

      I repeat, madam, I mean you no harm.

      She slid farther away before slowing to a stop. Then, as if reaching a decision, she stepped toward him. Good evening, sir. I’m sorry I ran into you. I didn’t see you. Her voice shook.

      He raised the lantern high, but its small flame revealed little. Before him stood a short woman who wore a light-colored dress and carried something on her back. Nothing out of the ordinary. I did not see you, either. I also beg your pardon. He remained still.

      So did she. For several fraught heartbeats, an awkward silence stretched.

      He cleared his throat. I must be on my way.

      Me, too.

      Me, too? Curious expression that, but that was neither here nor there. He went down on one knee before the cracked box, and the telescope that had spilled out from within. If you wish, I can escort you to your destination, but first...

      Is something wrong?

      I pray my telescope has not suffered any damage.

      She leaned over his shoulder. You were looking at the stars? Now? Her voice rose and then cracked.

      Was she a Bedlamite? Of course, madam. One generally observes the stars only at night.

      She released her breath in a huff. I know that. If he could see her, she probably tapped her foot.

      A drop of rain plopped onto his bare head. Uttering a muffled curse, he felt around until he found his hat and then jammed the headgear on. With great care, he sheathed the telescope in its case. Then, cradling the box against his chest, he stood. As much as I have enjoyed our encounter, madam, I must bring my telescope out of the rain.

      ***

      Madam again. Who called anyone madam nowadays? The man’s unusual phrasing and clipped tones didn’t match any British accent she was familiar with. Since her Cambridge students hailed from all over the islands, she thought she’d heard them all. Perhaps American? Or maybe this place was more isolated than she’d imagined.

      He bowed slightly and then swung open the gate in the fence surrounding her cottage.

      Her jaw sagged. Her cottage! Hey, you, just wait a minute. She raced after him.

      He stopped and looked back.

      Even the darkness couldn’t hide his scowl. What is it now? Although his words were polite, if barely, the unmistakable message was Go away!

      That’s my cottage.

      Fustian. My mother has a life interest in this property. She has lived here for the past ten years. His tone was that of a schoolmaster instructing a particularly stupid child. He walked through the portal, the gate gently swinging closed behind him, and then mounted the front steps. "I will be

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