Intertwine (21 page)

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Authors: Nichole van

BOOK: Intertwine
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Argh!
Alter Emme groaned in frustration.

“Thank you for not teasing me,” she managed to whisper, trying to break the tension. “These scrapes are ridiculously embarrassing.”

She watched as James blinked and pulled his eyes from her mouth. His heavy breathing matched her own.

“I am glad I was here to help.” His gaze stayed for a moment on her face, and then he turned away, his expression shuttered, though Emme heard him mutter quietly, “Teasing was not
my
intention.”

She knew he hadn’t meant for her to hear, but the truth of his words seared her. She felt herself blush, hot and uncomfortable.

Blushing? Seriously? When was the last time you blushed?
Alter Emme sounded amazed.

Emme agreed, silently hoping to avoid any other blush-worthy situations.

Particularly those that involved one Mr. James Knight.

Chapter 16

Haldon Manor

The drawing room

Several hours later

May 10, 1812

 

A
gain, Miss Emma, you must accept my profound thanks for saving my life,” Sir Henry exclaimed for the sixteenth time.

Or was it seventeen? Emme had lost count.

“And again, Sir Henry, you are welcome,” she replied. “I am glad I had some lingering memory which helped me know what to do.”

Emme was seated on a sofa in the drawing room with Georgiana perched beside her, passing out cups of tea and slices of lemon pound cake. Sir Henry sat in a chair opposite, mustache twitching with gratitude.

His voice was still raspy and hoarse, but otherwise Sir Henry seemed in good health despite his ordeal. He had arrived in grand style, accompanied by a footman bearing a large draped basket that now sat on a side table. When Emme had asked what was in it, Sir Henry had merely chuckled—or rather his mustache had bounced—and said she would see in due time. He insisted on waiting for James before unveiling the contents of his mysterious basket.

Emme pushed aside thoughts of that moment earlier near the old oak. It had been a momentary lapse and would not happen again. Fortunately, James had let the moment pass without further comment and had even matched her easy banter on the ride home. She hoped he understood. With no memory and no understanding of her past, she was hardly in a position to embrace a new future—either literally or figuratively. She just needed to not think about James Knight.

Determined to do so, Emme murmured thanks as Georgiana handed her a plate of cake. Georgiana’s cough had been better the last couple days, but her breath wheezed from time to time—a deep rasping from her chest that strained to bring in enough air. James mentioned he had been seeking out doctors who specialized in consumption, though he had found little that would give them hope. But today Georgiana seemed better. Her skin less gray, her eyes bright and full of life.

“James, there you are!” Georgiana exclaimed rising to her feet, looking past Emme.

Emme stood as well, turning to see James stride through the door, his crinkly smile in full view.

Really, did the air have to whoosh out of her lungs
every
time she saw him?

His restless energy filled the room, drawing every eye to him. Emme paused, hunting for the word. . . .

Charisma
, Alter Emme supplied.
The word you are looking for is charisma.

Yes, that was it.

Lucky her.

“Sir Henry. Georgiana.” James nodded his head in greeting. “Miss Emma,” he said as he stopped in front of her. His smile became slightly teasing as he gave a short bow, extending his hand to her. Clearly she had been forgiven for whatever had not transpired in the meadow earlier.

Emme hesitated, locking eyes with his, and then remembered. Smoothly dipping her head to James, she laid her hand in his, palm facing down, murmuring “Good afternoon, Mr. Knight.”

“Well done, Miss Emma,” said Sir Henry from behind her. “Your memory must be improving. Perfect greeting, m’dear.”

“Yes, indeed, very pretty,” James said approvingly, bowing over her knuckles, leaving Emme to wonder what exactly he found ‘pretty.’ His touch scalded her fingers, while his mischievous eyes danced, letting her know the vague meaning had been intentional.

“Thank you.” Did her voice sound a little breathless? She gently removed her hand from his, wistfully letting her fingertips slide along the length of his warm hand. How was she supposed to fight this?

Oh, you are so geeking out on him,
Alter Emme grinned.

James
accepted an offered plate of cake from his sister, moving to stand in front of the fireplace.
Emme bit her cheek, forcing her heart rate down. Her mind full of a thousand “what ifs.”

What if the man in the locket didn’t exist? What if her memory never came back? What if she decided to just lose herself in a pair of melting blue eyes?

Exactly! Forget locket-boy. I want to drool over Mr. Swoony Smile.

Emme swallowed and sat back down on the settee, drawing a deep, steadying breath.

Her dry voice was not helping. Again.

Oh, I’m sorry. I meant
Mr. Uber-Delicious,
Alter Emme taunted.

Okay, she needed to stop.

Mr. Hot Hotty McHotterson?

Really? That was just bratty.

Yes. Yes it was.
Alter Emme was totally unrepentant.

Emme shook her head slightly. Maybe more than her memory had been addled.

Hey, who’s being bratty now? And you do realize that Mr. Charisma is more than just a melting smile, right?

Yes, indeed. That was precisely the problem.

Emme mentally shook her head and brought her attention back to the room.

“I am glad to see you are up and about, Sir Henry,” James was saying.

“Thank you, m’boy. I was just telling Miss Emma how thankful I am she was my guardian angel last evening.” Sir Henry beamed at her.

Eighteen
, Emme mentally tallied. She couldn’t help it.

“Oh, did Miss Emma mention that we caught Mr. and Mrs. Baker in the middle of a fight this morning?” James said turning to Georgiana.

“I have always heard about their terrible rows. How lucky you were to actually witness one!” Georgiana said with a thrilled grin. “I wonder what Mr. Baker did this time?”

“Why do I feel you will ferret it out, dear sister?” James chuckled.

Georgiana tried to give James a disapproving look, but he merely raised an eyebrow at her and held her gaze until she broke off with a laugh.

“I could deny it, brother, but it is too true.” She tapped her lips, lost in thought for a moment. “I bet Fanny would know what happened.”

“You are shameless,” James said, though his wide smile belied his words.

“Indeed I am, brother dear. Though you of all people should know that by now,” Georgiana laughed in return, her eyes mischievous.

Emme found endless delight in watching James tease his sister and Georgiana give it back to him in full measure. It felt familiar somehow. Emme sighed. Not that she could remember.

Yeah, so over the whole no-memory thing,
Alter Emme agreed.
It’s so last week.

Georgiana smiled and changed the topic. “Sir Henry, when will we get to taste some of your prized gooseberries?” she asked as she passed him a cup of tea, glancing slyly at James.

“My gooseberries?” Sir Henry suddenly came to attention as he grasped the cup. His mustache positively quivering in delight.

James gave his sister a warning look and a slight shake of his head. Georgiana just smirked in reply, biting her bottom lip to stifle a smile. The entire exchange puzzled Emme.

Fifteen minutes later, she thoroughly understood.

When it came to gooseberries, Sir Henry could not be diverted. He rhapsodized at length on the virtues of green versus red gooseberries, on the quirks of size, on the nuance of flavor, sometimes leaning toward that of an apple and other times that of a grape. Emme tried to picture a gooseberry but came up with nothing.

As Sir Henry talked, Georgiana and James kept exchanging loaded glances. Georgiana helping Sir Henry along whenever necessary. James giving long-suffering looks.

I knew I liked her,
Alter Emme whispered.

“Sir Henry’s gooseberry club is the most famous of all,” Georgiana murmured when the man in question took a breath. James glared warningly at Georgiana again.

“Indeed?” Emme saw no reason not to encourage Sir Henry, as he was clearly enjoying himself. “I would love to hear more, Sir Henry.”

Emme shot her own pointed look at James. He shook his head at her in mock annoyance, eyes narrowing slightly.

She tried and failed to keep the teasing grin from her face. James stared at her in return and retreated to the chair next to Sir Henry. There he sat, crossing his arms. His entire body saying oh-you-will-pay-for-this.

Sir Henry was happy to oblige, the twinkle in his eye clearly indicating he knew what was going on but didn’t care, which resulted in another ten minute discourse about the vagaries of being president of the Greater Herefordshire Old Gooseberry Society. Apparently the position required exceptional tact and expertise, balancing the overblown egos of other gooseberry enthusiasts with a thorough understanding of their craft.

Fascinating,
Alter Emme muttered.

Emme ignored the sarcasm in that remark, preferring instead to watch James slowly glower mock-daggers at Georgiana. She returned his glares with innocent, fake-batting of her eyelashes.

They were both clearly enjoying themselves.

 

Sir Henry was still going on about his precious gooseberries, James realized. Everyone in Marfield—

No, scratch that—

Everyone in Herefordshire knew better than to ask Sir Henry about his gooseberries. Unless you had a couple hours to drown in a painful, fruit-filled monologue.

He took a deep breath and stared at his traitorous sister, who returned his stare with a decidedly mischievous twinkle. What had Georgiana been thinking to bait Sir Henry so? The wretch!

But then he caught himself. How long had it been since Georgie had been like this? That laughter-loving girl he so adored?

He instantly knew the answer. Emma drew Georgiana out. Out of that gray world of half-living. Out of waiting for death to claim her. His sister’s laugh filled him with an aching joy. An intense longing. And he silently thanked Emma for bringing even a little sunshine to Georgiana’s life.

Emma’s name on Sir Henry’s lips brought his attention back.

“You do realize there is the occasional trace of an American accent in your speech, do you not, Miss Emma?” Sir Henry was saying.

James blinked. American? Again, something unexpected.

“American?” Emma’s voice echoed his surprise.

“Indeed! There is a hint of it in your short vowels from time to time. Subtle, but most definitely there.”

James watched emotions flicker across Emma’s face. “America,” she almost whispered, shaking her head as if trying to hold on to something.

“That is fascinating, Sir Henry. I wish I could remember more for you.” Her face wore that befuddled look that James was coming to adore: brow furrowed, eyes pensive and inwardly searching.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Sir Henry suddenly exclaimed. “James, m’boy, would you be so kind as to bring that basket over here.” He gestured to the chair next to him. “I brought a few things for Miss Emma as a thank you.”

James stood and brought the basket over. Sir Henry uncovered it with a flourish.

“Oh goodness, Sir Henry!”
Georgiana exclaimed. “How delightful!”

“Indeed!” Emma echoed.

James stared at what could only be called an astounding assortment of exotic fruits. All the pride of Sir Henry’s extensive greenhouses.

Emma smiled broadly and stood to examine the basket more closely. James watched her exclaim in excitement over small bananas and something he thought was an alligator pear but which she called an avocado.

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