A Witch in Time

that was it. Cross could whisk them back to their hiding place and they could regroup and find another way to get the dagger. For now, she could close her eyes and enjoy being in this luxurious room for now. Maybe Cross could whip up or steal some mattresses—
“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” Julianna seemed in a fury as she burst though the room, the door slamming behind her. “What the hell have we gotten ourselves into? Why didn’t you tell me what a ‘season’ was?” Julianna stormed across the plush carpet, hands gesturing wildly. “A marriage mart? How does that happen? Are we going to be put on display and have men bid on us?”
“Uh—”
“This is insane. Barbaric. And she insinuated I was old! Like a wrinkly grape dying at the end of the vine! I’m not even twenty-four. I’m twenty-six.”
Elise bit her lip, glad that at least to Eleanor, she looked much younger than her real age—which was thirty. In truth, she probably would have been considered a spinster in this age.
“I hope we find that damned dagger soon—” A knock on the door interrupted Julianna’s rant. “Come in,” she barked.
The door opened and Cross strode inside, his fingers on his lips to signal them to be quiet. He shut the door behind him slowly. “Under the circumstances, I probably shouldn’t be in here, but now it’ll be easier for me come and go.” Cross’s powers to transport himself and others across long distances had one caveat: He had to have been to a place before or at least have seen a picture and a satellite map of the area so he knew where to go.
“Cross, what are we going to do?” Julianna moaned.
He turned to Elise, his golden brows drawn together. “You shouldn’t have done that, Elise.”
“I know.” She bit her lip. “But what was I supposed to do? Let that kid be run over? He could have died.”
Juliana’s mismatched eyes widened. “Fucking hell, did we just change the future?”
Cross thought for a moment. “Hmmm … history might be okay. I do remember that when Townsend died, his nephew William inherited it which means he should have survived the accident.”
Elise’s chest tightened at the thought of Reed dying, and her inner wolf growled. I hardly know him. Yet that feeling of loss made a pit in her stomach form.
“Then maybe we’re still safe.” Julianna blew out a breath. “And when we go back, it won’t be some weird post-apocalyptic future.” Placing her hands on her hips, she trained her gaze at them. “But the question is, what do we do now?”
“I’ve thought about this,” Cross began. “We might actually have a better chance at finding the dagger now.”
“How so?” Elise asked.
“We now have direct access to Townsend for one thing.”
Juliann’s face brightened. “That’s right. We can use this to our advantage. We might even be able to figure out where the dagger is if we ask the right questions.”
“Wait a minute.” Elise shot up from the bed. “You guys can’t mean to stay here? With them?” With him. “We should stick to our original plan. Cross, you can transport us back to the safe house, right?”
“Yes, but that would mean we would have to be even more careful. Townsend and his sister know our faces.”
Julianna’s face was grim. “While I don’t want to be on some kind of auction block, I also agree. The sooner we can get Reed or his sister to give up the location of the dagger, then the sooner we can go home.”
She knew they were right. But she just wished there was some other way.
“We must be careful,” Cross said. “I think Townsend doesn’t believe us. He knows something is up.”
“Of course he does.” Julianna gestured to her outfit. “They must think we’re lunatics.”
“Er, sorry about that.” He scratched his head. “I just picked the two dresses that were easiest to steal. I’m not exactly a fashion expert.”
“Well, hopefully Eleanor can help us blend in,” Julianna said. “We have to stay inconspicuous. Good thing we’re not English, and we can always pass off our faux pas as a colonial quirk.” She did the air quotes when she said the last two words while copying Eleanor’s posh accent, then promptly put her hands down. “I probably shouldn’t do that, huh?”
“And you should probably control your cursing too,” Cross added as a smile tugged up the corner of his lips.
“Fucking hell.”
Elise chuckled, because what else could she do? She was going to be trapped here, at least until they found out where the dagger was. At least we’ll be sleeping in beds.

Chapter Five
Their hosts left them alone for most of the afternoon which allowed Cross to make a few clandestine trips to gather more information, as well as money and bank drafts to fund their stay. While he didn’t explain where he got the cash, Elise trusted that he got them from sources that wouldn’t miss them.
Meanwhile, she taught Julianna all her knowledge—albeit limited to what she’d read in Aunt Jade’s historical romances and Pride and Prejudice—about Regency England.
“So, let me see if I remember this.” Julianna sat cross-legged on top of Elise’s bed, scratching her head. “I have to call dukes and duchesses ‘Your Grace’ while everyone else is ‘my lord’ and ‘my lady.’”
“Yes,” Elise said. She remembered one particular novel where a dowager duchess—the title given to the ‘old’ duchess once a new one came into the picture—was teaching a young woman from America all about the peerage. She remembered loving that particular one, and often pictured the handsome hero in her head—tall, dark hair, broad shoulders, eyes black as coal and—
“How about people without titles?”
Knowing where—or to whom—her thoughts were going she was glad for the intrusion. “I think everyone else is just Miss, Mrs., or Mr. unless you’re a servant. The higher-ranked ones are called by their last name and lower-ranked are called by their first names.”
“How classist,” Julianna sneered.
Not really wanting to have some sort of politico-socio-economic debate with