Out of the Blue (A Regency Time Travel Romance) Read Online Free Page B

the sun.”
    Perry harrumphed, then plopped heavily
into a large brocade Elizabethan chair that stood against a wall in
the upper chamber and began fanning himself with the handkerchief.
“Stap me, Marcus, of course it does,” he declared importantly. “I
knew that. I was just trying to make a point. There’s no need to
get huffy.”
    The marquess wasn’t listening. Looking around
the room only to assure himself that it was empty—for his many
trips to the Tower had made him familiar with all its buildings—he
proceeded to the small arch marking a rude, narrow hallway leading
to a circular staircase.
    “This has to be it, Perry. The strange
passageway. I decided it months ago. Its the only one I can think
of in the whole of the Tower that serves no real purpose, has no
easily defined use. There’s nothing below here save a single, oddly
shaped room.”
    Perry shook his head. “If you already know
all about it, Marcus, why did you insist on coming here again? What
could be here today that wasn’t here last week, or last year? I
told you we should have stayed at Eastbourne. I hate London in the
winter. There’s nothing to do but stagger around this drafty old
pile, waiting for my best friend to break under the strain. It’s
not a pretty picture, I have to tell you, and I should think you’d
be concerned for my feelings in the matter, if not for your own
sanity. Damme, but it’s cold as a tomb in here. Lady Sefton has
sent us both invitations for the month. You know what we should do,
Marcus, old chum? We should leave at once. You know it will be
jolly good fun. Even Prinny might attend.”
    “If our dear Regent plans to attend, no one
will miss either of us. Besides, he’d be bound to quiz me as to how
my search is faring. I had to tell him I was looking for ancient
treasure to get his permission to dig around in here, and he’s so
purse-pinched he believes me. I’ll probably have to produce a bag
of pearls from my own stock or some such trinket sooner or later,
just to quiet him. Now, come on, Perry. You must have caught your
breath by now. I can’t explain it, but I have this almost
overpowering feeling that I am finally close to an answer to
Green’s little fairy tale, as you call it. And the answer lies
somewhere in that room. You see, I have formulated this
theory—”
    “Yes, yes, a theory. Of course you have. How
wonderful for you, Marcus. You must feel very gratified. Tell you
what, if you promise not to share it with me, I’ll be with you
shortly.” Perry leaned back in the chair and spread his legs out in
front of him, the action nearly sending him sliding to the floor.
“Stupid chair. I just want to rest here for a moment,” he said,
pulling himself upright on the hard overstuffed seat.
    Without waiting for Perry, Marcus plunged
down the hallway, grabbing up a torch to light his way down the
long, spiraling staircase to the small chamber.
    Yes, he could feel it building, this strange
urgency to see the chamber once more. His skin prickled, and he was
aware of a certain light-headedness akin to the sensation he’d
experienced at eighteen upon his initial sight of the dimpled
Covent Garden warbler who eventually became his first mistress.
Although he had learned to guard his emotions—and his purse—with
more care in the ensuing dozen years, he could still remember the
feeling. Something extraordinary awaited him in the chamber below.
He would bet his best bays and curricle on it.
    He was nearly to the bottom of the stairs
when he heard it. Actually, he could have been at the top of the
stairs—or possibly still outside—and not missed it, for it had to
be the most prodigiously loud scream he had ever heard,
bouncing wildly off the stone walls to assault his ears from every
direction.
    Three seconds later Perry cannoned into
Marcus’s back, nearly sending the two of them tumbling down the
remainder of the steps. “My God! Marcus—what was that?
Banshees? It sounded like a pig caught in