A Home for Helena (The Lady P Chronicles Book 2) by Susana Ellis Read Free Book Online Page A

past was pulling at her, drawing her, and she finally let it take her into its mysterious lair.
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    The Elizabethan Arms
    Hackney
    East London
    That evening

    P eople can't really travel through time. And if they could, the world would be really screwed up, with people going back and changing things without understanding the consequences. Except that Jamie and Claire had tried and failed to prevent the tragedy at Culloden. So maybe it doesn't really the work that way. The whole time-space continuum couldn't be as simple as that, or the world would have self-destructed long ago.
    “More coffee?”
    The waitress paused next to her with the coffeepot poised above her cup.
    Helena caught her breath. Goodness! She was actually thinking as though time travel and Outlander were real. Had she lost her mind?
    "Yes, please." It would be her fourth cup, but massive doses of caffeine had certainly worked to clear her head during college all-nighters. And a clear head was just what she needed right now.
    “Scotch whisky for me."
    Helena froze as her former employer—the loathsome Richard—slid into the chair opposite and grinned at her.
    “I had the devil of a time trying to find you, my dear. The agency claimed to have no knowledge of your whereabouts, so I had to go to the trouble of hiring a detective bloke to find you."
    Helena's mouth fell open. "You're stalking me?" Her body tensed. Who did he think he was—God's gift to nannies? What he needed was a good ass-kicking!
    Leaning across the bar table, he reached out and stroked her arm. Which she quickly pulled away.
    "Now, now, Helena, there's no need to be coy. I admit it was a bit of a tricky situation while you were still living with us, but really, my dear, you should have contacted me sooner. I could have set you up at a finer hotel than this one. The Ritz, perhaps? I could even get you the Royal Suite, which comes with a butler and a Rolls Royce. And a chauffeur, of course, if you don't fancy driving on the left side of the road.” His grin was pure saccharine.
    She glared at him. “I'm. Not. Interested. Go back to your wife, Mr. Earskine.”
    “You Americans are so puritanical,” he said as he set his clasped hands on the table surface. “Lucille and I have gone our separate ways for years now. A modern marriage, you know.”
    Helena felt a sour taste in her mouth. His youngest daughter was only two years old!
    The attractive blonde barista set his drink down in front of him. “Ah, thank you, my dear,” he said, with an appreciative smile that was instantly returned. Helena stood up.
    “Now, now, don’t be jealous, Helena. Can’t a man appreciate a pretty girl without his inamorata feeling betrayed?”
    He sprung out of his chair and tried to take her into his arms. She wrenched away.
    “Don't touch me! I’m not your inamorata! Go. Away!”
    A couple at a nearby table glanced at them with interest. Tricky Dickie narrowed his eyes.
    “Keep your voice down, Helena. We are attracting attention. Let’s go upstairs to your room and discuss it in private.”
    Helena was beyond caring. “No!” she said clearly and firmly. “I’m going up to my room, Mr. Earskine. Alone. And if you follow me, I’m calling the police.”
    There was a gasp from someone in the coffee bar, and suddenly another man—the manager, she guessed—appeared.
    “May I be of service, Miss Lloyd? Is this gentleman accosting you?” He was shorter than Richard Earskine, but was solid and had an air of authority that gave Helena a sense of relief.
    “He’s no gentleman, and yes, he is accosting me,” Helena stated, nostrils flaring. “He’s been following me around everywhere I go, even though I’ve told him repeatedly to get lost. He won’t take no for an answer, and I’m getting damned tired of it!”
    “Helena!” He turned to the hotel manager and shook his head. “I apologize for my wife’s language. She's American, you see, and—“
    “I’m not your wife, you bloody