TITLE: Must Love Breeches
GENRE: Time Travel Romance
A reenactment ball was the perfect setting for romance. Or not.
Isabelle fidgeted in her oddly-shaped, but oh-so-accurate ball gown surrounded by women who'd sacrificed authenticity for sex appeal. It was as if she were a dorky kid again, participating in dress-up day at school when everyone else had magically decided it was lame.
At least her co-worker Anna was with her in this. Like Isabelle’s, her dress was circa 1834. “Hmmm. How about him?” Isabelle asked, eyeing the guy walking past in tight-fitting, buff-colored pantaloons.
Anna sucked on her olive and plopped the stir stick back into her martini. “Oh, yes. A breech-ripper for sure.”
Isabelle choked on her drink—they’d just been discussing their favorite “bodice ripper’ romances. She’d also discovered they shared a mutual obsession with guys in period clothes, which had helped propel her through the early stages of the strange party. Since this was the first time they'd hung out, she treated this moment delicately, afraid to puncture the mood. No need to point out they were pantaloons, not breeches. To have another friend in London would be wonderful.
A sharp elbow in her side caused her drink to flirt with the rim of her glass. "Look lively," Anna said, her voice low with just a dollop of teasing. "Here comes Andrew."
Isabelle took a gulp of her Bellini, the champagne fizz tickling her throat and nose. She’d been cultivating a crush on him since she’d started working at the British Museum six months ago.