Author's Note: Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Chapter 3

"Mademoiselle!" an urgent voice called through the darkness. A voice demanded in French, "Wake up Mademoiselle! You must wake up!"

Slowly Samantha opened her eyes and sat up. In front of her was a young woman in a long black dress that looked very old fashioned. She was speaking in a torrent of French that was something about returning to a party. Sam wondered if she were dreaming and stood up to walk away from the strange woman. Taking a couple steps, Samantha stopped suddenly as she caught site of herself in a long gilded mirror.

Sam stared at her reflection and blinked. She to was wearing an old fashioned gown and her hair was caught up in diamond and sapphire hairclips. Looking at the pale blue silk gown, she began to panic slightly. No dream had ever seemed so real before, she could feel the silk between her fingers and smell the scent of the candles that burned on a stand next to the mirror. She had to wake up, this dream was simply too bizarre! Maybe if she walked through the door she would wake up or at least have a less disturbing dream.

Opening the door to a large and elegant hallway, Samantha began to run. Something was very wrong here and she had to get away. Suddenly she collided with a firm masculine chest encased in silk and velvet. Strong arms wrapped around her and a familiar set of dark eyes looked down at her. For a moment Sam looked at him, trying to place where she knew him from. He wore all black except for a white cravat and blood red roses embroidered on his waistcoat. Roses? Even the scent of roses clung to him. Memories came crashing back to Samantha of the museum earlier in the evening and the handsome stranger who was... Jack!

"Jack!" Samantha cried out and collapsed against him as dizziness overtook her. She struggled slightly as he dragged her down the hall and opened a door. Gently but firmly he forced her inside and shut the door behind them. Sam scowled as he urged her to a chair before the the fire and he sat on a footstool before her. Although she had no idea of how he managed this, this was hands down the most bizarre scheme he'd ever pulled.

"Samantha-"

"Bailey and my friends will find me!" Samantha declared in a cultured British accent, then clamped her hands over her mouth in horror. "What have you done to me?"

"What makes you so certain I deed anything to you?" Jack retorted in perfect English that had a light French accent. "Samantha I have no idea how we got here, but yours is the only face I recognize."

"Aren't a lucky!" she snapped acidly.

"Samantha, we appear to no longer be in a time that is our own and while I might envision you this way in my dreams visually, your actions would be a great deal more pleasant, so I feel confident in saying this is not a dream," he drawled in his lazy French accent.

"Of course this isn't your dream, this is my nightmare and I want you out of it!"

He arched an eyebrow at her and sighed, "Perhaps if you're going to be this difficult, I should hand you over to your father."

"My father? I thought you said you didn't recognize-"

"I don't Samantha. The man I'm speaking of isn't Walter, but since everyone in this house is French except for the Englishman in the study who just signed a marriage contract for his daughter, I'm assuming he's your father here."

"Marriage contract! If you think for one moment I would ever marry you, you're even more insane than I ever thought!"

Hurt flashed briefly on Jack's handsome face and was quickly masked with amusement. "If I may suggest my dear Samantha, take a while to review your situation. According to the marriage contract, the year is 1710 and while your irritating friends may constantly rush to your rescue, time travel is probably beyond their scope. If you are so repulsed by my company that you would rather be entirely on your own in a time when women have no rights, then please be my guest. Your father was just telling me how relieved he was to have his debts settled by marrying you to a handsome young aristocrat, that if it weren't for my proposal he'd have to marry you off to a man over seventy!"

Samantha looked horrified as she considered Jack's tirade. She didn't want to marry anyone but did she really want to be separated from the only person who knew who she actually was? With a pained sigh, she replied, "Fine! But I won't sleep with you. I can't imagine anything worse than having you er assert your marital rights."

At that Jack laughed and moved from the stool to lean over her. He poised his mouth over hers and murmured seductively, "And yet you seemed so anxious to be in my bed earlier tonight."

Samantha scowled up at him, "That was another century."

"Maybe," Jack sighed softly before pressing his mouth to Samantha's and kissing her with slow and deliberate sensuality. As he stood up and walked away he heard her cry of outrage. Without turning his back he opened the door and called back to her, "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't."

Samantha stood up and screamed in frustration, grabbed a priceless vase from the mantle and threw it at the door as it closed. From the hall Jack's laughter echoed hauntingly...