Echo of Roses Read online

  Echo of Roses

  Echoes in Time

  Book One

  Paula Quinn

  © Copyright 2021 by Paula Quinn

  Text by Paula Quinn

  Cover by Wicked Smart Designs

  Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.

  P.O. Box 7968

  La Verne CA 91750

  [email protected]

  Produced in the United States of America

  First Edition May 2021

  Kindle Edition

  Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.

  All Rights Reserved.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  License Notes:

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook, once purchased, may not be re-sold. 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 borrow it, or it was not purchased for you and given as a gift for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. If this book was purchased on an unauthorized platform, then it is a pirated and/or unauthorized copy and violators will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Do not purchase or accept pirated copies. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work. For subsidiary rights, contact Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.

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  Dearest Reader;

  Thank you for your support of a small press. At Dragonblade Publishing, we strive to bring you the highest quality Historical Romance from the some of the best authors in the business. Without your support, there is no ‘us’, so we sincerely hope you adore these stories and find some new favorite authors along the way.

  Happy Reading!

  CEO, Dragonblade Publishing

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Paula Quinn

  Echoes in Time Series

  Echo of Roses

  Rulers of the Sky Series

  Scorched

  Ember

  White Hot

  Hearts of the Highlands Series

  Heart of Ashes

  Heart of Shadows

  Heart of Stone

  Lion Heart

  Tempest Heart

  Heart of Thanks

  Forbidden Heart

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Publisher’s Note

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Paula Quinn

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  New York City

  July 2019

  The sun broke through the clouds and bright sunshine filled the loft where Kestrel Lancaster lived with her four roommates.

  She didn’t want to open her eyes. Her bed and pillow were too comfortable, and besides, it was Sunday, her day to rest. It had been Lilith’s suggestion. Lilith observed the Sabbath and had talked Kestrel into taking off one day a week with her. Kes had been doing it now for the last year, and her rest days were growing more and more enjoyable. Rest for her meant no reading anything historical, no watching anything historical on her phone or television. No visiting museums or other historical societies. It was a day to meet her dad for dinner and live in the now, as another roommate, Jack, had put it. It was a day to take a break from her work, her passion, to stay out of her head and whatever century she was working on.

  And whatever man had broken her or one of her friend’s hearts this past month. Jack was having the same issues with the women he dated, so it seemed to be that people in general sucked and love wasn’t real anymore.

  She pulled her pillow over her head.

  Brian McGill sucked the worst. Kes had talked with him on a dating site. They hit it off and met. Things were going smoothly. At first, Brian was all romance and flowers. A month in, and his attention wandered to a girl he met at work, and that was the end at that. Before him, there were others, some a little more serious where talk of love was involved and then forgotten as if it hadn’t existed. Because it hadn’t.

  She was getting older. Twenty-five and still no serious relationships. Men just seemed like something to pass the time. There was nothing substantial. And she wasn’t alone. Her friends went through it, too. Like her, all four of her roommates had been cheated on. They’d gone through terrible pain. She’d watched them fall apart, cry, or stay silent holed up in their rooms, or try to get revenge by sleeping with a dozen more people. It was all too easy. Men and women could have someone else at the touch of a keypad.

  Kes wanted no part of it anymore. She wished for a time when life seemed easier and the world wasn’t so small. When objects didn’t come before relationships and “love” wasn’t so instant and so fickle.

  The front doorbell was ringing. Ugh. Was no one else already up? She didn’t see anyone moving around inside the loft. What time was it? She pulled her phone to her. 10:12am. Seriously? Who was at their door on Sunday morning? She got out of bed, put on her soft, furry robe and lumbered toward the door across the entire length of the loft. She didn’t bother brushing her hair. It better not be Brian. She’d dumped him a week ago. She would never take him back. If it was him, she was going to let him have it.

  She pulled back the heavy lock and opened the door after another angry ring.

  “All right,” she grumbled and rubbed her eyes.

  A young guy stood on the other side. He stared at her huge blue-green eyes, then smiled.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  He said nothing. He kept smiling and handed her an envelope. “Um…would you like to—?”

  Kes shut the door.

  She hated being rude, but she wasn’t in the mood for flirting or dating. She wasn’t sure she ever would be again.

  “Who was at the door?”

  Kes looked up from the envelope at her friend and roommate Kim coming from her screened-in space.

  “A letter was delivered to me from a company called ISOAP Corp.” She carried the letter to one of the overstuffed sofas taking up room in the wide-open space and sat down. “Ever hear of them?”

  Kim shook her head and russet curls sprang up and down around her neck. “Nope. Must be important if they’re sending a messenger on a Sunday. Open it.”

  By now, Jack and Lilith had left their beds and gathered around the sofa. “Constantine went out early this morning,” Lilith told her when Kes look
ed around for him.

  Kes read out loud.

  “Ms. Kestrel Lancaster,

  Your presence is requested at our office on this date to discuss a legal matter. We await you at your earliest convenience this afternoon.

  Regards,

  G. Green.”

  Jack took the letter and pulled out his phone the way a knight might brandish his sword. He dialed the number on the letter and waited. There was no answer. “Closed.”

  “Not entirely if they want to meet with me.” Kes frowned. So much for resting. Now she was going to have to travel to West Seventy-third because she was probably being sued by someone. Talk about raining on her parade.

  “What happens if I’m being sued and I don’t go?” she asked.

  Jack and Lilith started typing on their phones.

  “This information only applies to not showing up to court,” Jack told her.

  “Right,” Lilith agreed. “What you have is just a letter requesting your presence. That doesn’t mean you’re being sued.”

  “What else can it mean?” Kes asked them and rose from the sofa. “I’m not going. I’ll call tomorrow and find out what they want before I see them.”

  “If you go today, I can go with,” Jack told her.

  Jack was such a dear friend. Kes could always count on him. Kim and Lilith said it was because he was interested in her. Poor Jack. She wasn’t attracted to him in the least. She tried to be. But she didn’t want to risk their friendship.

  She went to the far left corner of the loft where her bed was and fell into it.

  Her phone rang. She reached into the pocket of her robe for it. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” Why did she pick it up? She wasn’t even thinking about picking it up.

  “Ms. Lancaster?”

  She sat up. British accent. She had relatives in England, but she didn’t recognize this man’s voice. Her stomach tightened into a knot. “Yes.”

  “Mr. Green here from ISOAP.”

  “How did you get my number?”

  “I understand my correspondence was vague. Set your mind at rest.” Rest. “This meeting is in regard to an inheritance. That is all I can say over the wire. Can I expect you?”

  An inheritance? What? “An inheritance from whom?”

  “As I have already stated, Ms. Lancaster. I am not liberty to say on the phone. Bring a friend if you are wary.”

  “I…”

  “Can I expect you?”

  She sighed. “Sure. I’ll be there in an hour—with a friend. Or two.”

  She hung up then called her dad.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hey, Kiddo, what’s up?” came his dear, familiar voice.

  She told him about the letter that had just arrived. She didn’t tell him about Mr. Green calling her. She didn’t want to worry him. Should she be worried? “Do you know anything about me getting an inheritance?”

  He didn’t know. He took down the name of the company and promised to see what he could find out.

  She also didn’t tell him she was going there and on Sunday. He would have a fit. But she felt in her bones that she should go.

  “We still meeting at Martino’s at seven for dinner?”

  “Of course, Daddy. I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Great. See you tonight, Kes. Love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she told him and hung up.

  She bit her lower lip and called out to Jack and the others that she was going and asked them if they would come with her.

  They agreed, which meant it took two hours instead of one.

  They finally made it into a large Uber and traveled uptown to West Seventy-third.

  They arrived at a four-story building built in what appeared to Kes in the early twentieth century. The inside was decorated in art-nouveau style.

  They were met in the lobby by a ruggedly handsome guy who had Kim and Lilith nodding before he asked anything. He brought them to the beautiful elevator built outside the walls in a cage-like design. Its steel gates were intricately woven in soft, curved lines.

  When they reached the third floor, the handsome escort asked that her friends wait outside a set of thick, polished wooded doors. Jack, of course, insisted on going in with her, but hunky guy promised he could go inside in a moment or two.

  “She is going to be asked a few personal questions. She might not answer truthfully if you are there. What has been left for her is very valuable. We need to guarantee that we are giving it to the correct person. You understand. Have a seat. There is no cell service in the building. If you would like to make a call, please leave the building.”

  Kes thought this guy wouldn’t be out chopping down trees, but surprisingly in a courthouse somewhere deciding someone’s fate.

  He leaned forward and opened the door then stepped inside after her.

  The office was nice. Too nice for Kes in her slim jeans, graphic T and Adidas sneakers.

  She wore barely any make-up and her dark, chestnut hair was loose and wind tossed past her shoulders. She patted it. She couldn’t believe she didn’t bring a scrunchie.

  He led her to a large Victorian-styled chair behind a beautiful wood inlaid desk, its surface as smooth as a lake on a windless day. There was nothing on it. Not a calendar, not a pen, paper, dust. Nothing. The walls were papered with a beautiful burgundy design with gold accents. The lighting was soft, golden. Like candlelight.

  She sat and looked at Mr. Rugged. Why hadn’t he introduced himself? “I didn’t get your name.”

  He looked down at her and his smile softened. “You have extraordinary eyes.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “You were about to tell me your name.”

  “My friends call me Luke.”

  She arched a dark brow keeping her smile intact. “Are we friends now?”

  “Ah, Ms. Lancaster,” another man greeted as he entered through a side door. “I’m Mr. Green. We spoke on the phone. Let us get down to business, shall we?” He pulled out a chair and sat on the other side of the desk.

  He was older than Luke by ten, maybe fifteen years. Big and broad-shouldered in his tailored suit. His hair was cut somewhat short and though he was well groomed, there was something tousled and wild about him.

  Right now though, he was all business.

  “Yes, let’s,” she said and offered him a fresh smile.

  He didn’t smile back but lifted a briefcase onto the table. Had he come in with the briefcase? He opened it and took out a small stack of papers and a small wood box expertly carved with deer and a stag in a forest. That was all she could see of it. She wondered if it was old.

  No. Rest. No history today.

  “You are…” He buried his nose into one of the papers. “A historian.”

  “That’s right. Umm, Mr. Green, why do you know what I do for a living?”

  “It is my duty to make certain you are the correct Kestrel Lancaster. Now,” he said as he shuffled more papers. “Is your father Charles A. Lancaster?”

  She nodded.

  “Grandfather Edward L. Lancaster? Great-grandfather Nelson—

  Kes held up her hand. “Yes. Yes. Nelson P. Lancaster. I’ve looked them up.”

  “Ah, well, then, given your passion for research and history, perhaps you are familiar with your Aunt Eleanor Pendridge, the Duchess of Glastonbury.”

  What did he say? Kes sat forward in her chair. Duchess? Of Glastonbury? There was a duchess in her family, and she didn’t know? “No. I…I don’t know of her.” She narrowed her eyes suddenly. “Is this a joke by someone at the Historical Society?”

  “A joke?” Mr. Green repeated as if the words were bitter in his mouth. “I can assure you this is not a joke.”

  “So I’m really the niece of a duchess?” she asked, stunned.

  “The great-great-great-niece.”

  “How come my father never spoke of her? Did she leave him anything?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.” His dark eyes bored into her. “Let’s get
back to you.”

  He pushed the box to her across the shiny surface of the desk.

  “Ms. Kestrel Lancaster, you are bequeathed the contests of the box from Lady Eleanor Pendridge, Duchess of Glastonbury,” Mr. Green said all legal-ishly. He pushed some documents toward her. “Just sign this.”

  “Only one signature?” she noted out loud.

  “It’s all we need. We don’t like to waste time. It’s very precious, you know.”

  She nodded.

  “You may wish to open the box when you are alone,” he added furtively. He closed the briefcase, stood up and left the room without so much as a goodbye. Luke went with him.

  “Good day to you.”

  “You, too, Luke,” she bid and set her eyes on the box.

  Alone, she ran her fingers over it then picked it up. It looked old. Maybe early nineteenth century. Tiny ivy climbed a tower and swept over the battlements of a carved castle on the other side of the deer. What could be inside? If the box was this nice, what treasure must it contain?

  She looked at the door. Should she get her friends? Mr. Green said to open it alone. Why?

  She lifted the lid and looked inside. She reached in and lifted a blackened brooch with a classic stick pin out. What was this? She looked up at the door from which Mr. Green left. This was a joke then.

  She laughed and moved to return the brooch to its box. Something stopped her. She looked more closely at it. It was too worn to make out the once raised design. Her heart began to pound like a drum. How old was this brooch? Where did it come from? A thousand questions about its history began to catalogue in her head.

  Was it a bird…or a dragon? She rubbed her thumb across its surface and for one shimmering moment the brooch appeared as if it were brand new. It was silver and shiny as if on fire from within. The dragon designed on it curled itself around a yellow stone. But it was the tiny name forged into the stone that blazed the brightest.

  She looked closely at it. “Pendragon,” she whispered. This had to be a joke. The air glittered around her.

  The blackened brooch dropped to the carpeted floor.

  The office was empty for a moment before Luke returned. He bent to retrieve the box and the brooch and slipped them both into his pocket. He stepped out the first door and faced her friends. Sometimes he hated this part of his duty, but his orders were clear.