An Impossible Alliance

By Susanne Marie Knight

New Time-Travel Regency Romance!

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
Eighteen-year-old Willa Berkeley lives in the shadow of her famous actress mother. Although Willa's greatest hope is to be a ballet dancer, she agrees to her mother's desire for her to journey to England and take a small acting part in a major film production. Once on-site at Highbridge Hall, she learns the horrendous reason behind her mother's "request." Distraught, she makes a wish for happiness at the Hall's supposedly enchanted lake. When morning comes, Willa is still at Highbridge Hall, however the film's crew are no longer around. What in the world happened?

WISHES CAN COME TRUE
Ian Laydon, the Earl of Wrexham, returns to his father, the Marquess of Dunhaven's, estate, Highbridge Hall, after an exhausting tour of duty mediating at the Congress of Vienna. His father wants Ian to marry a neighbor's daughter, Arabella. Ian is a dutiful son; he plans to propose but his heart is unengaged. He wishes he could have a marriage as loving as the one his parents have. Oddly enough, right after his wish, he comes across an enigmatic young woman sitting against the granite bridge in front of him. Can she possibly be the answer to his wish?

Praise For AN IMPOSSIBLE ALLIANCE

5 Stars! One of the things I love about Susanne Marie Knight's time-travels is that she uses a different method of time-travel in each book. Here, the method is a lake enchanted by fairy folk. The protagonist is a contemporary young woman on the verge of adulthood who struggles to find her way in her unsympathetic world. Willa has very real concerns; she comes alive for the reader. The novel is filled with believable characters: from the consumed-by-duty hero; to the headstrong, flighty Regency miss; to the sullen cousin; to name only a few. For a magically different romantic read, head over to the enchanted lake and read AN IMPOSSIBLE ALLIANCE!--Regency Fiction World

5 Stars! AN IMPOSSIBLE ALLIANCE is a charming time-travel Regency, complete with vivid characters, an interesting plot, and set in 1815 with accurate historical details. The main character, Willa, is only eighteen. How she grows from an insecure teen to confident young woman took this particular reader back to her youth! I stayed up all night to read this one. Enjoy this trip back to the past!--Twists On Romance Reviews

I eagerly awaited Ms. Knight's newest time-travel Regency and oh yes, I love AN IMPOSSIBLE ALLIANCE!--Reader Comment

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susanne Marie Knight
• Release date: Mar 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005194260

Susanne Marie Knight

Award-winning author and seven time EPPIE / EPIC eBook Award Finalist Susanne Marie Knight specializes in Romance Writing with a Twist! She is multi-published with books, short stories, and articles in such diverse genres as Regency, science fiction, mystery, paranormal, suspense, time-travel, fantasy, and contemporary romance. Originally from New York, Susanne lives in the Pacific Northwest, by way of Okinawa, Montana, Alabama, and Florida. Along with her husband and the spirit of her feisty Siamese cat, she enjoys the area's beautiful ponderosa pine trees and wide, open spaces--a perfect environment for writing. For more information about Susanne, visit her website at www.susanneknight.com.

Book preview

Prologue

Being the child of a Hollywood screen legend wasn’t a situation Willa Berkeley would’ve wished on anyone. Not her envious friends, not her celebrity obsessed employers, not her one-track-minded boyfriends, not her worst enemies... nor her best enemies. Not even her nose-up-in-the-air older sister, Juliet. And, of course, it went without saying Willa didn’t wish that for herself, either.

But accident of birth... or not, Willa was born into the great Berkeley acting dynasty--the great Margarite Berkeley acting dynasty, specifically.

To say Willa had an unusual childhood was akin to saying that the Earth revolved around the Sun. But in her mother’s mind, the Earth revolved around Margarite: the classically beautiful, intensely desirable, and in-demand Oscar-winning actress... no, actor. Using the word actress was so last century.

Margarite could go months at a time without seeing her younger daughter, however either she or her obnoxious assistant, Rodgers, would call almost daily to verbally yank on an imaginary controlling leash.

Yeah, Marta was like a frisky puppy constantly yelping when that leash was pulled.

But now, today, Margarite requested Willa’s presence at the Berkeley multi-million dollar estate. Strongly requested. A heavy-jerk-on-the-collar requested.

Willa had learned early on never to ignore a royal degree. And that was why she stopped everything... everything being her new job in retail at an exclusive shop on Rodeo Drive... and asked permission to take an early lunch. The proprietress... or should that be proprietor?... had been very agreeable and shooed Willa out the door to cater to Margarite’s whims. Actually, the fact that Willa was Margarite’s daughter was the only reason Willa had gotten the job.

It wasn’t what you knew, it was who you knew. For Willa, Margarite Berkeley was the key that opened doors. The unfortunate thing about it, though, was that Margarite’s doors weren’t the ones that Willa wanted to go through.

Willa lived and breathed dance, contemporary ballet in particular. She’d been a student since the tender age of three, and had taken dance classes ever since... even if she had to pay for them herself. Every year since the age of ten, she’d auditioned for a role in the coveted holiday classic, The Nutcracker. She’d worked her way up from being a tiny mouse, to a ballerina doll, and now, this season, she would be the Sugar Plum Fairy. Lovely!

Margarite, unfortunately, didn’t see any merit in professional dancing. Hence Willa’s need for working dreary jobs like the one on Rodeo Drive to support her habit.

Now that she had just graduated high school, she was ready for adventure. More than ready to join a dance company, hopefully in New York City, and then tour the big wide world.

But for now, Margarite called, so Willa obeyed.

She drove her trusty, dusty, ten-year-old car up to the tall, wrought iron gate guarding her mother’s multi-million dollar mansion in the Los Feliz section of Los Angeles. Even though she was the owner’s daughter, she had to submit to a security check. Everyone did. She leaned out of her car window and pressed an intercom button on the red brick pillar by the gate.

Before the disinterested man on the other side of the camera could ask, she identified herself. Willa Berkeley to see my mother.

The man sniffed. Hold up your license for the camera, please.

She flared her nostrils. One would think being closely related to a superstar would afford a person certain benefits... like entrance into her mother’s house. Nope, not in Margarite Berkeley’s world.

Willa complied with the request as she always did.

Go on through. The man sniffed again.

The iron gates swung open, allowing her to drive the long, winding road up to the impressive, red brick mansion. Well, maybe to some it was impressive, but to her it... and the lifestyle it represented... was mind-numbing in the extreme.

She stopped by the front entrance.

Miss Berkeley. Timmy Talbot, a young man four years older than her--twenty-two--was a three-year veteran at the Berkeley residence. Dressed in his valet livery, he opened her door. What brings you out to the Grand Dame’s estate on this fine July morning?

If Margarite ever heard herself being referred to as the Grand Dame, she’d certainly bust a gut!

An urgent summons, my good sir. Willa smiled her reply. As to what it pertains to, I have no idea.

She got out of the car, and ran her hand down the front of her fashionable linen dress to smooth out the wrinkles. Her usual wardrobe consisted of leotards, tights, yoga capris, loose tops--things like that. This sleeveless dress had cost her almost a week’s pay, and she felt very feminine in it. The hemline was asymmetrical, and the color was lawn green which was a close match to her eyes.

It was a given, though, that Margarite wouldn’t approve. She never did.

Willa glanced at the ornately carved Brazilian rosewood door that she was soon destined to have opened for her. But I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

Good luck to you, Milady, Timmy joked, then hopped into the driver’s seat to park her car in the back. Why the back? Probably because Margarite didn’t want any ten-year-old automotive eyesores littering her grand entrance.

Yeah, thanks. Willa straightened her posture and flipped one of her long pigtails off her shoulders. Then she walked up marble steps to ring the doorbell.

The door opened immediately. Ms. Berkeley, the maid--someone new to the Berkeley staff--intoned soberly. The Madam is expecting you.

Hi, I’m Willa. She extended her hand. What’s your name?

Tilton, Ma’am. The woman ignored Willa’s hand. Please, follow me.

Willa sighed. Margarite had recently completed filming a Downton Abbey knock-off. Evidently in the rarified atmosphere of lords and ladies, many of the house servants were called by their surnames, not their given names. Margarite must’ve been trying for a bit of old-world grandeur.

Following behind Tilton through rooms, each one more magnificent than the last, Willa braced herself for the whirlwind... or perhaps the eye of the hurricane... that was her mother.

She knew her mother well enough to guess that Margarite would be found in one of the mansion’s many sitting rooms. Yeah, there she was, regally sprawled on an elegant divan, talking into a landline handset.

Not to worry, dear. Margarite curled the phone’s cord around her index finger. I’m very familiar with the director. I know his tastes. Above all things, he craves youthful purity. Soon his eye will roam in another direction. Very soon. I’ve got it all set up. Count on it. Trust me, darling.

Even at her advanced age of forty-nine, or rather forty-three... if you believed in fairytales... Margarite Berkeley took everyone’s breath away. She was like a pixie-ish wood nymph: lush, raven-dark hair and eyes the color of the tropical waters of Tahiti, she was slim, petite, sensuous, and yeah, even luxuriously languid.

Willa was the exact opposite. Well, she was slim and well-toned--a ballet dancer had to be--but she could never be called petite. She actually towered over her diminutive mother: five foot seven to Margaret’s five foot one. Instead of sensuous, Willa’s adjective would’ve been wholesome. Fresh-faced. A boring ingénue.

Instead of wavy, mysterious locks, she had auburn hair, or russet, or burgundy, or copper--the list of descriptors was endless. Her hair was shapelessly straight--long enough to brush the tops of her budding breasts. And the kicker, she had bangs. Margarite loathed bangs. Absolutely loathed them.

And that was precisely why Willa now wore them.

Darling! Margarite noticed that she had company. She waved Willa in and the maid out. Be right with you, darling, she mouthed.

Sitting on an antique-looking armchair strategically placed to the right of the divan, Willa sat and folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t have long to wait. The conversation was wrapping up with promises to see each other soon--whoever it was that was on the other end.

With that Margarite hung up the phone. Darling! Sorry about the delay. Just dealing with a problem with one of our influential directors. Enormous ego. So tedious. But let’s forget about that. She sat up straighter. It’s so good to see you, darling. It’s been ages.

Willa smiled slightly. Her mother was dramatic as always. In truth it had only been two weeks. Margarite had graced the Rodeo Drive store with her presence in search of a scarf to match her eyes.

Come, give Margarite a kiss.

Willa got up and complied, as she always did. The sweet aroma of gardenias invaded her nose, almost forcing an unexpected sneeze.

Darling, why are you wearing such a dreadful color? Margarite yanked on the linen material on Willa’s outfit. That dress looks like a secondhand store reject. And your hair... in pigtails? Darling, you’re seventeen, not twelve.

Eighteen, Mom.

Whatever. And those bangs... Margarite shuddered.

You wanted to see me, Mom? If Willa didn’t interrupt, she’d be there all afternoon listening to her supposed deficiencies.

Yes, yes, I did. Margarite regally stood, and then slowly made her way to the unlit fireplace. Posing, she glanced around as if readying to smile for a camera crew. None were in the room, so she turned around to face Willa. Darling, I don’t ask much of you, but now I need a favor.

A favor? Willa froze in place. What could her mother possibly want?

Yes, it’s like this. Margarite toyed with a strand of pearls around her neck. Your sister called the other day. You know she’s starring in a film on location in West Sussex. England, you know. A period piece.

Margarite’s eyes actually began to glow. Juliet plays Lady Jasmine, the tempestuous lead. If I do say so myself, she’s ideal for the role.

Willa kept her thoughts to herself. It was a certainty that Juliet had the acting tempestuously part down pat.

Well, anyway, Margarite continued, Casting slipped up and sent a completely horrid choice for Lady Jasmine’s younger sister, Lady Cassandra. Simply horrid. So the woman was released.

What does this have to do with me? An uneasy feeling churned in Willa’s stomach.

Darling, you’d be fabulous in that part. First rate, top shelf, absolutely masterful. Margarite finished with a flourish that reaffirmed why she was an Oscar-winning actor.

No. No way. Mom, I’m not an actress... actor, whatever. I’ve never trained to--

Darling. Margarite walked over and picked up one of Willa’s pigtails. She twirled it around her finger. You’ve been stationed next to me your entire life. You, more than anyone, are aware of the acting drill. You’ll fit in perfectly. Not only are you Juliet’s real sister, so of course, there’s a resemblance, but you’re available, ready to go, and you’ve got a sweet disposition that will contrast nicely with Lady Jasmine’s temper tantrums.

Willa opened, then closed her mouth. She took a deep breath. But I have a job. I just started it.

Nonsense. Margarita dropped the pigtail, and then stood in front of Willa with her hands fisted against her tiny waist. The shopkeeper will be absolutely ecstatic to grant you a leave of absence. To think, one of her clerks will be featured in a major Hollywood production... in England. It’s quite an honor, I tell you.

The sensation of her mother now smoothing back Willa’s bangs from her forehead sent nauseous quivers to tumble down all the way to Willa’s toes.

There are not many lines of dialogue to learn, but then again, you know your voice is not as musical as Juliet’s, so no need to worry there. Margarite tapped her index finger against her chin. Honestly, I don’t think your character’s in a lot of scenes, so most of the time you can go off exploring, or whatever it is that you want to do.

I want to dance. That’s what I want to do. But of course, dancing wasn’t even on Margarite’s radar.

Willa couldn’t sit still any longer. As if in a dream, she meandered around the sitting room, taking care to avoid all the haphazardly placed chairs and tables. Is this... are you sure this is what Juliet wants?

Naturally. Mother knows best for both her girls. Margaret came over and placed her warm hand on Willa’s bare arm. Please, Willa. Do this for me. For us.

Wow. Typically, it was a cold day in hell before Margarite actually said Willa’s name. Darling or dear usually sufficed. So obviously this meant a lot to her.

Rubbing her temples, Willa made her decision. After all, here was her chance for an all-expense-paid-trip to England. She could practice her Sugar Plum Fairy routines on her own. And who knew? There were dozens of contemporary ballet companies in London. Maybe she could audition. Maybe she’d get lucky and one of them would offer her a spot.

She’d be foolish to turn this opportunity down.

So she nodded. Okay. Sure. So how do we do this? Should I check in with someone there? Just to make sure I’m wanted for the part?

Margarite linked arms with Willa and then started walking out of the sitting room towards the front entrance. Evidently the impromptu visit was over.

Not to worry, darling. It’s all set up. A green light. I’ll have my assistant work out transportation and accommodations for you. You’ll leave tomorrow morning, yes? This way, once you land on Monday, you can hit the ground running. As soon as the details are confirmed, my assistant will let you know. Don’t forget your passport. I’ll send Rodgers to pick you up at that tiny hovel you insist on living in. He’ll drive you to the airport. So all you have to do is pack.

With an imaginary peck of a kiss to the cheek and a royal wave from her regal hand, Margarite left Willa at the ornately carved Brazilian rosewood door. Tilton hurried over to open it.

Willa stepped out into the warm July air, allowing the breeze to tickle a path up her legs under the linen dress. She shook her head. This was all so strange. Unlike her sister, she’d never wanted to work in the acting field. Dancing had always been her passion, ever since she first slipped on a pair of black tap shoes and then her pink ballet slippers. She had an affinity for dancing, and had received many rave reviews, but her mother never supported that dream.

But now, because of Margarite and Juliet, Willa would soon experience all the foibles and joys of being part of a major motion picture.

It was an impossible situation. Then again, she had to look on the bright side. She’d get a brief respite from her job catering to bored Rodeo Drive society matrons. Plus, even if she didn’t care to be part of the acting experience, she’d be near London. Perhaps some contemporary ballet company would be interested in seeing her résumé, seeing her perform. If she was fortunate, one of them might even allow her to join their dance group... and then she could stay in England for a while.

Who knew? It could happen.

She’d pack up her few belongings and place them in storage. Her roommates would have no trouble finding someone to take over her share of the rent.

And, not to forget, she would be doing a big favor for her mother. Evidently an important favor. Not to mention Willa would be far enough away from Margarite’s overpowering presence to finally be able to breathe.

Ahhh!

Willa smiled. This was turning out to be a better morning than expected after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One

Willa glanced around at the frenetic activities surrounding her on the set in West Sussex. She shook her head. Frankly, this acting business is a piece of cake.

She quickly added to her thought. A tedious piece of cake turning slightly rancid and heaped with huge amounts of twiddling the thumbs.

Ah well. Everyone was busy doing whatever they needed to be doing except her. But she was getting paid to wait around, so her time was the company’s time.

Once she had arrived on-set, well, actually at the very, very stately Highbridge Hall complex where the Marquess of Dunhaven and family lived, a few members of the crew took her in hand and showed her the ropes: where Wardrobe was, Makeup, Props, the Cafeteria, the Stables... the list was endless.

Willa even saw Juliet’s home-away-from-home on-set trailer crammed together with the other cast members’ motor homes. Each trailer had its own utilitarian awning to provide shelter from the sun or rain, leaving no space between vehicles whatsoever. It was like living in a Skid Row for actors.

But at least Juliet had her space. Willa didn’t merit her own trailer while on the set. She shared one with three other female cast members. Unfortunately, she still hadn’t seen her sister, but it was only day two in her adventure.

As Margarite had said, the film was a period piece--a story set in the Regency period of Great Britain’s history. Maybe the screenplay was based on a Jane Austen novel. Willa didn’t know for sure. She wasn’t a fan of Jane Austen. But what she did know was that the setting, Highbridge Hall, was absolutely beautiful. Even more beautiful than Margarite’s estate, not that Willa