sitting in slowed to a stop in front of it. She had spent the ride thinking about how she might best get away from her—well, she couldn’t decide if she should call him her rescuer or her captor. He had certainly hoisted a sword in her defense and he had gotten her away from those very unpleasant-looking men who seemed to be wanting to have a little chat with her. Then again, he had also shoved her into the back of a car and driven off with her, which she couldn’t say was a point in his favor.
She forced herself to take deep, even breaths, then decided she would make a list of events, because making lists always made her feel more in control of her life. And if there were ever a time in her life she needed some control, it was then.
The first item of interest was the fact that she had just spent an unusual half hour in the midst of some weird, reality-show-like street fair complete with extremely unsettling sewage-like props. Second, she had been rescued by a man who had borrowed a rapier from someone else, then fought with it as if he’d known what he was doing. Third, after a few more thrills and chills that felt far too paranormal for her taste, she was being let out of a very expensive car in front of a hotel that she never would have gotten closer to than gawking at it online.
She was going to have to examine all of those at greater length, but first she had to get herself somewhere safe. And at the moment, if her choice was staying out on the street where she was potentially in the sights of very unpleasant-looking thugs or going inside the hotel where she could maybe go hide in the ladies’ room and start screaming in order to be rescued, she would take the inside route.
The door was opened by a bellhop. She might have considered bolting right there, but that Derrick person had suddenly materialized next to her and taken her by the arm. She allowed that and continued on into the lobby, hoping a handy escape route would present itself sooner rather than later.
It was hard not to feel like a country bumpkin when she walked through sheer luxury. She was acutely aware of her dress, which had acquired a few suspicious substances during her trip through the street fair, and her shoes, which had unavoidably encountered an open sewer on the same jaunt. The truth was, she smelled, and not in a good way.
She clutched her bag to her under her apron and didn’t protest when Derrick, last name unknown, took her by the arm and led her over to the concierge’s desk. He at least didn’t seem to be bothered by her outfit. Then again, the sleeve of his shirt was wet with something so dark that either he had run into a glass of burgundy or he was bleeding. That didn’t seem to faze him, either.
He looked at the man behind the counter. “I believe we have a reservation.”
The concierge looked first at him, then at her, as if he just wasn’t quite sure what to make of either of them. He started to speak but was immediately hip-checked out of the way by an older, more distinguished-looking gentleman.
“Her Ladyship phoned ahead,” he said. “I am Maurice. It is, of course, a pleasure to serve any guest of the Countess of Assynt.”
Samantha suppressed the urge to stick her fingers in her ears. “Who?”
Maurice looked at her and a slight pucker formed between his eyes. “The Countess of Assynt. And you are—”
“Someone very famous,” Derrick said smoothly. “She prefers anonymity.”
Samantha felt her mouth fall open. “No, I wouldn’t—”
“She would,” Derrick insisted. He leaned forward slightly. “Method acting and all that, of course. Elizabethan part, as you can see by the costume. We’ve been rehearsing an abduction scene.”
“We’re not rehearsing anything,” Samantha exclaimed. “He’s kidnapping me—”
“For the scene,” Derrick interjected. “Of course.”
Maurice looked slightly alarmed. “If I might ask—”
“Or perhaps not,” Derrick said with a smile. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur. “I can’t mention names and this one is too modest to, but she’s a very famous American actress.” He nodded. “Yes, that one.”
“She doesn’t look like her—”
“None of them look like themselves without their stylist, do they?” Derrick said dismissively. He straightened and was again all business. “I need to get her out of the range of any