Thread: Au-delà du Temps: Beyond Time (LeatrixSage x SacrlettRose)

Etta Palm d'Aelder Well yes, actually, she was. Aelder was just the modern American version of dAelder, but obviously none of her living ancestors would know anything about her existence. That meant telling him no was both a truth and a lie, but the real implication he was trying to push made her raise her eyebrows. She knew every well that Etta had been involved in a network of spies and conspirators that had supported Napoleon. The targeted question made her hackles raise, as it drove home the idea that if this was real, she was in a lot more danger than she had even begun to realize. No blood relation, but I am aware of who Etta Palm dAelder is, she hedged carefully as she watched the man down his drink. The urge to run was hard to resist as he then pushed himself up from the mantle and came toward her to throw himself across the chaise lounge, effectively taking away the little piece of mind shed built for herself. His assertion that his actions where none of her business struck her as decidedly old world. As far as I can tell, you are effectively my kidnapper, connard. I dont think it could be more my business without being actively involved in whatever it is you are hiding. Of course, her eyes narrowed at him, the woman stubbornly refusing to give ground to hide the fact that her little heart was beating at an absolutely frantic rhythm, if I have already assisted you, then your good graces are only the beginnings of paying what you owe. I am damn good at what I do, and my time isnt cheap. The double connotation to her words, and the fact that she looked like a barefoot mistress in a dress that was much more expensive than she could have possibly had the money for without a title attached to her name, was completely lost on Addie. Her mind wasnt even really on the conversation anymore. Instead, she was busy with trying to digest the apparent fact that she was in Paris, France in the 1800s, in the Chateau De Lacey, a castle that shouldnt even be standing anymore, and was talking to the last Marquee of Wessex. Okay, dont freak out. If you went back in time, then you can go forward in time, right? Her eyes burned, and Addie turned away to hide it while Wessex waxed on about his grandmothers final days. If she had indeed lived out her final days, alone, and in that cold, foreboding place, Adelaide pitied the woman. It struck her as unusual that the woman was allowed to keep such a place as her dowager home, particularly as it would be a hell of a bargaining chip for a wife with connections, money, and social power. Bastards. His voice was grating on her nerves, but not in the way she was accustomed to. Normally, when a man got under her skin, it was because he was trying to sell her one something she knew was crap. This, while similar, was very different. The Marquee was grinding her nerves into dust not because he was trying to feed her bullshit, but because he kept trying to intimidate her into swallowing it. Every time she thought she was going to be overwhelmed by panic and fall into hysterics, he said something or did something that made her want to reach out and slap him. Its Addie , please, she sniped at him, already sick of my sweet and miss, or just about any form of endearment on the mans lips. She raked a hand through her hair in frustration, closing her eyes for a moment to mentally count to ten, and then let out a long, slow breath. Something that might have eased the ache in her shoulders had he not decided to offer she come to bed with him. Her jaw clenched as she bit back a scathing remark, and then took one more deep breath. Actually, no, I dont have any questions, she smiled, an expression that was toothy, and didnt make it to her cold, blue eyes as they opened. I have a few statements, though. You are a lying prat, and one that firmly believes he has the winning hand before he has even looked at his own cards. Assuming the poise and purpose she reserved for marching into a bid against billionaires, Addie closed the space between them to look down at the comfortable, relaxed, male power spread out over the lounge. A modern man might have recognized hot water when he saw it, but in Wessexs world, women simply werent a threat. When Addie bent down to grab the edge of the chaise lounge, she didnt give the man time to react before she pushed it over, tipping him bodily onto the floor Whatever you think you know about me, youre wrong, she assured him, her tone wrapped up in the cold, professional persona she wore, while her eyes danced with the merriment of vengeance. I am not who, or what, you seem to think I am. And I will not stay here, I promise you that.