Role of a Lifetime (A Regency Time Travel Romance Novella)

By Kasey Michaels

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Former minor league baseball player and now Hollywood's biggest moneymaker, actor Michael Casey likes to immerse himself in a role before the cameras start rolling. But he never expects to find himself suddenly transported to the real Regency England, where he is mistaken for the Earl of Ambersley, the true-life hero of the Napoleonic wars he's to portray in the about to be filmed movie.

The real Earl of Ambersley is due to arrive in less than two weeks, there's a murderous spy on the loose, the real Earl's fiancée is in mortal danger, the script Casey knows cold is apparently full of historical holes, and the secret passage that was his entry to this crazy world isn't working anymore.

Apparently Casey has to find a way to be a real life hero before it's too late, and before he can get back to his own time.

How's that for immersing oneself in a role — the Role of a Lifetime!

"Using wit and romance with a master's skill, Kasey Michaels aims for the heart and never misses." -- #1 New York Times Bestselling Author Nora Roberts

Thanks for reading!

Book Categories:
Funny Regency Romance
Regency Romance
Regency Time Travel
Time Travel Regency Romance
Regency Comedy

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kasey Michaels
• Release date: May 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463042298

Kasey Michaels

USA TODAY bestselling author Kasey Michaels is the author of more than one hundred books. She has earned four starred reviews from Publishers Weekly, and has won an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award and several other commendations for her contemporary and historical novels. Kasey resides with her family in Pennsylvania. Readers may contact Kasey via her website at www.KaseyMichaels.com and find her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorKaseyMichaels.

Book preview

Role of a Lifetime

A Regency Time Travel Romance

Kasey Michaels

Copyright 1995 by Kathryn Seidick

Electronic Edition Copyright 2018: Kathryn A. Seidick

EBook published by Kathryn A. Seidick at Smashwords, 2018

Cover art by Tammy Seidick Design,

EBook Design by A Thirsty Mind Book Design, 2018

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording or any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Epilogue

Titles by Kasey Michaels

About Kasey Michaels

Titles by Kasey Michaels

Alphabet Regency Romances

The Tenacious Miss Tamerlane

The Playful Lady Penelope

The Haunted Miss Hampshire

The Wagered Miss Winslow

The Belligerent Miss Boynton

The Lurid Lady Lockport

The Rambunctious Lady Royston

The Mischievous Miss Murphy

Moonlight Masquerade

A Difficult Disguise

The Savage Miss Saxon

The Somerville Farce

Nine Brides and One Witch: A Regency Novella Duo

Historical Regency Romances

A Masquerade in the Moonlight (Enterprising Ladies)

Indiscreet (Enterprising Ladies)

Escapade (Enterprising Ladies)

The Legacy of the Rose

Come Near Me

Out of the Blue (A Time Travel)

Waiting for You (Love in the Regency, Book 1)

Someone to Love (Love in the Regency, Book 2)

Then Comes Marriage (Love in the Regency, Book 3)

Role of a Lifetime (A Regency Time Travel Romance)

Just Good Clean Fun Regency Romances

The Straight-Laced Duke Selbourne;

The Just Good Clean Fun version of Indiscreet

The Bedeviled Viscount Brockton;

The Just Good Clean Fun version of Escapade

The Dangerous Mister Donovan;

The Just Good Clean Fun version of A Masquerade in the Moonlight

Contemporary Romances

Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You (D&S Security Series)

Too Good To Be True (D&S Security Series)

Love To Love You Baby (The Brothers Trehan Series)

Be My Baby Tonight (The Brothers Trehan Series)

This Must Be Love (Summer Lovin’ Series)

This Can’t Be Love (Summer Lovin’ Series)

Stuck in Shangri-La (The Trouble With Men Series)

Everything’s Coming Up Rosie (The Trouble With Men Series)

Find Kasey’s books here!

Prologue

The only thing is to keep working, and pretty soon they’ll think you’re good.

—Jack Nicholson, Oscar-winning actor

"You cheeky beast!"

Michael Casey saw the slap coming, but he didn’t turn away. Nor did he lose his smile, even as he willed himself not to rub at his stinging face. He only watched in appreciation as Midge the waitress, or barmaid, or whatever these Brits called full-breasted young blondes in low-cut peasant blouses, retreated to the bar without so much as a backward glance.

Ah, women, Casey thought as he drained his mug of dark English ale and slapped it down onto the table. How he loved women. In all their shapes, all their sizes, all their teasing little ways. He considered himself an appreciator of women, if there was such a word; maybe even a connoisseur.

Stung yer good, didn’t she, ducks? a deep, gravelly female voice asked, and Casey looked up as a cherublike, ruddy-faced old woman slipped, uninvited, into the only other chair at the table. Oi bin watchin’ yer, lad, from over there, in the corner, an’ seen it all. Stealin’ kisses like a raw lad. Fer shame! Wot yer think yer doin’, anyways?

Casey looked at the old woman, who was dressed in more colors than the NBC peacock. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was a gypsy, when she was probably nothing more than a local eccentric hitting on him for a free glass of ale. Looking for love in all the wrong places? he suggested after a moment, then winked and grinned, for he couldn’t help himself. He had been born to please women. All women. It was his gift. Maybe even his curse.

The chubby cherub didn’t smile back at him, which was unusual, for he had always scored high with older women—older women, teenage boys, the entire X Generation. Even older men. No one was immune to the Michael Casey grin. His demographics proved it. His eleven-mil-a-picture contracts proved it.

Such a pretty smile on such a sad man, the grotesque cherub said, shaking her gray head as she stared at him, giving him an unsettled feeling. Yer’re lookin’ all right, dearie, but for what? Fer somethin’ or someone ta fill up that empty place inside yer? Someone ta make yer real, and not jist the man everyone sees? Yer don’t even know if yer are missin’ somethin’, do yer, not fer certain? But Oi does. Oi does. Yer came ta the right spot, almost. Almost. Oh, boyo, wot I see, she ended, her voice taking on the eerie lilt of the omniscient. Wot I see!

Casey frowned, as the cherub reached across the table to touch him, her shiny-skinned arthritic hand, each finger banded by at least two rings, strangely strong and grasping.

Okay, I give up, he responded, trying for bravado and knowing he’d failed. The naive American hereby agrees to be fleeced by the wily English gypsy. What do you see? And how much is it going to cost me to find out?

Listen now, Michael Casey, and listen well, for Oi’ll only say it the onct. The gravelly voice was low, intent, yet shut out all the louder noises in the dark, crowded pub. The fingers that traced over his palm felt hot and dry and branding, their very heat somehow translating to a chilling shiver that ran down his spine.

She closed her rheumy brown eyes, took a deep breath, and pronounced: So many gifts. So little understanding. Years to travel afore you find your true love. I see danger. Danger in the water. A pond... a stream... a brook? Danger, learning, love everlasting. Keep the hickory branch close.

She took another deep breath, opened her eyes, then released his hand, turning her own palm-up, and all the noises in the pub were audible again. That’ll be a fiver, mate, seein’ as how Oi’ve sworn off the drink now that Oi’m old an’ not so steady on m’feet, she said brightly, suddenly all business.

Casey, wishing like hell for a scriptwriter who could furnish him with some sort of snappy comeback, briskly rubbed his palms together, trying to wipe away the gypsy’s touch, along with her words. You’re good, he said flippantly. Damn good. Pushed all the right buttons. Although you only knew my name because you’ve seen one of my movies, or read one of the newspaper stories about the film we’re shooting here. Right?

She said nothing, only kept her hand extended, her dark eyes revealing less than her suddenly silent, unsmiling mouth. And another shiver ran down Casey’s spine.

He decided he’d had enough of the village pub for his first night in jolly old England. As a matter of fact, he’d probably had enough of England, although he would be here for another two months, at the least.

How could he have been so drawn to this place, to this particular script, that he had landed himself in such a backwater when he knew he was happiest in the center of action? Knew he could tell himself he was happy, fulfilled, when he was careful to keep himself surrounded by all the trappings of his unexpected success? Why had he felt this burning need to film on location, and to take such a career risk in his determination to play the role of the Earl of Ambersley?

And why did he feel, know, that this strange old woman not only knew of all his unspoken questions, but had answers for them as well? Not that he would ask her. Oh, no. He wasn’t that drunk.

Yeah, well, he said as he stood up and pulled some bills from his pocket, slipping one into the gypsy’s hand and tossing another on the table for the barmaid. Not that it hasn’t been fun, but I’m out of here.

Not yet, boyo, the gypsy said, her laugh a dry cackle as she folded the bill and slipped it into her bodice. But yer will be. Yer will be. Oi’ll be seein’ yer when yer gets back—iffen ye’ve learned anythin’, that is.

He left the pub in a purposely slow, unhurried gait, not allowing himself to break into a jogging trot until he