Intertwine (40 page)

Emme sobbed and turned into his arms. Wrapped her own arms around his neck. Buried her face in his cravat.

And breathed him in, that lusciously familiar scent of leather and sandalwood and him. The heat of his arms wrapped possessively around her.

And then his lips were on her forehead. Her cheek. Her mouth.

Hungry and greedy. Aching. Longing. Drugging her nearly senseless.

Emme clung to him. Finding that she was unable to hold him close enough.

“Oh, my love, how I missed you!” James half moaned against her mouth. “It has been a lifetime without you.”

He pulled back slightly. “Well, several of them, in fact.”

And then he kissed her again.

And again. And again.

Someone cleared their throat behind them.

“You know, I’m pretty sure that kissing a lady witless in public is not part of a gentleman’s code of conduct,” Marc drawled. “And people are starting to stare.”

Emme gave a stuttering laugh and pulled away from James. But he didn’t let her get too far, keeping her trapped in his arms as they turned to face her brother.

“I think there’s someone else who would like to greet you, James.” Marc gestured toward Georgiana standing beside him, looking at James with wondrous tears in her eyes—healthy and whole and rapt with gladness.

The air whooshed from James as he took two steps and swept his sister into a tight hug, picking her up and spinning her around, laughing in disbelieving delight.

He set Georgiana down and then took her face in his hands, staring at her with such joy and wonder.

“Georgie!” he barely whispered. “Oh, Georgie. . . .” At a complete loss for words, James merely hugged her again, clasping her tightly, wiping at his cheeks.

Happiness flooded through Emme. Crystalline and effervescent.

This was the most perfect of all perfect moments.

She walked to Marc and wrapped her arm around his waist, watching as James talked privately with Georgiana, his eyes drinking her in.

“Thank you, Marc,” she murmured relaxing her face against his chest. “Thank you for bringing him to me. Really and truly.”

Duir Cottage

Four hours earlier

September 16, 2012

James stood swaying in the darkness for a moment. The vertigo had been almost overwhelming. Taking a deep breath, he could see stairs and light coming from a doorway above. He could hear a muted noise, like a thousand trees rustling, and someone yelling loudly, if indistinctly.

Puzzled, he climbed up the stairs and quietly stepped into the hallway. The noise appeared to be coming from the back of the house. Taking the few short steps down the hallway, James stopped in the doorway to the great room. His eyes roamed over marble and steel and wood.

The house had certainly changed. This part of it now seemed to be a kitchen of sorts with a large, rough-hewn table. Farther down was an over-sized fireplace that probably lost a ridiculous amount of heat in the winter. In front of the fireplace was a large sofa, facing away from him.

A dark haired man sat on the sofa, his back to James, yelling at whatever was happening on the illuminated screen next to the fireplace.

A television. James was proud of himself for deducing that detail.

Fascinated, he walked quietly over to stand behind the couch, watching the screen. It was some sort of game, similar to the mob football men from the village would play on festival days. Only more organized and with all sorts of padding. As if they were afraid of a few bruises.

James snorted.

And the man on the couch jumped around with blinding speed at the noise. Yelping in startled terror. Stumbling over a footrest in front of the sofa, nearly tumbling to the floor in surprise.

James couldn’t resist a small laugh. What would Emme say?

Oh yes . . .

That was totally awesome.

With a look of stunned surprise, the dark haired man righted himself and reached over and muted the sound on the television. They faced each other for a few moments. Assessing. Taking each other’s measure.

The man slowly straightened and then nodded his head in greeting.

“James,” he said, assessingly.

“Marc,” James replied, a larger smile breaking across his face. He walked around the sofa and held out his hand, grasping Marc’s in a firm grip. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

He had instantly recognized Emme’s brother from the photos she had shown him. But even without the photos, he would have marked the resemblance. They had the same dark curly hair. The same wide-set eyes and welcoming smile.

“Sorry I jumped,” Marc said good naturedly. “Your arrival was somewhat unexpected.”

James chuckled. “I’m sorry to have alarmed you. Though, I must admit, it was remarkably funny. Does Emme know you scream like a girl when startled?”

Marc threw back his head and laughed.

“Emme forgot to tell me how much I would like you. I guess I can’t call you Fabio anymore, can I?”

“Fabio?” James shook his head in confusion. That made no sense.

“Forget about it. It’s nothing,” Marc said with a grin.

“Where are Emme and Georgiana?” James asked, looking around. “Are they here?”

“No, not exactly.”

James felt a momentary stab of terror.

“Are they . . .”

“Oh, they’re good. Emme is fine and Georgiana is well. Completely recovered and not quarantined anymore.”

Relief poured through James. Cleansing and incandescent. Georgie was alive. She would live!

“That is such wonderful news,” James said with a relieved sigh. “She is really well?”

“Yeah, amazingly so. And she’s been putting weight back on. You’ll be stunned when you see her. They’ll be ecstatic to see you too, actually.”

“So, where are they exactly?”

“They’re off to the Jane Austen Festival for the day.”

James blinked and then remembered Emme telling him about the festival. How everyone dressed up and pretended to be characters from a Jane Austen novel.

“Why are you here?” James asked. “I assume the ladies would have needed someone to chaperone them. Did someone take over that duty for you?”

Marc eyed him warily for a moment. James raised an eyebrow.

“Did you allow them to go alone, Marc?”

Marc shrugged. “This is the 21st century, you know. Women don’t need a man at their side all the time. They’ll be just fine.”

“Perhaps.” James frowned slightly, feeling the annoyance build in his chest. “But
when
I’m from, there is a code of conduct that a gentleman follows.”

He held up a gloved hand and ticked off his fingers. “You don’t cheat at cards, your word is your bond and you always ensure any unmarried woman in your household is protected and honored.”

Marc cocked an eyebrow, obviously wanting to disagree with him but didn’t. Instead, Marc looked James up and down.

“Nice jacket,” he said, gesturing to the blue-green coat James wore. “That the one from the locket?”

James nodded.

Marc grimaced slightly and then sighed.

“I knew Emme would find a way to make me go to the festival in the end. Well, if I’m doing this, I’m doing it right.”

Puzzled, James watched as Marc walked around him and out of the room, gesturing for him to follow.

“C’mon, James. You’re going to have to play valet. I have no clue how to tie a cravat.”

An hour later, James sat in the passenger seat of the BMW. He felt he had done an excellent job helping Marc dress in breeches, waistcoat and boots. He had even managed to tie Marc’s neckcloth into a perfect mathematical.

This BMW was utterly fascinating, however. Emme had never really described or shown him photos of the inside of a car. It smelled a lot like the inside of one of his carriages, all leather and wood, but that’s where the similarities ended.

“What’s this?” James asked pointing to the odd nobs and buttons and screens on the dash between him and Marc.

“It’s the stereo, navigation and stuff,” Marc said casually.

“Really? How interesting!”

In delight, James pushed one of the buttons and jumped when music suddenly blared around him. Smiling, he pushed another button. And then another. Loving how the music changed each time.

He was reaching for another button when Marc’s outstretched hand stopped him.

“Enough,” Marc said with a shake of his head. “I know my sister loves you, but seriously, man, you touch my stereo one more time and I may have to hurt you.”

James cocked his head toward Marc in puzzlement.

“You might have your code of conduct and all, but
when
I’m from, there are a couple rules guys follow. You drink your beer cold, you wear pants around the hips not your ribcage, and you don’t mess with a man’s woman or his stereo. Got it?”

James laughed and then crowed with delight as Marc punched the accelerator and the car raced down the road, the sudden force pushing him against his seat.

“How can I acquire one of these myself?” he asked appreciatively.

Marc chuckled. “Well, we’re going to have to figure out a lot of things before you can get a driver’s license. But we might be able to swing a few impromptu lessons between now and then.” The last part he said with a wink.

“So how will we know where to find the ladies in Bath?” James asked.

“Emme had reservations at four o-clock for tea in the Pump Room. So we’ll look for them there. And if all else fails, I’ll just text her. She still took her phone with her. She’s not going that period on me.”

“Excellent,” James said, feeling satisfaction. “Also, I have a small favor to ask. Could we make a stop on our way through Marfield?”

Bath

Parade Gardens

Later on September 16, 2012

Emme and James found themselves strolling through Parade Gardens after leaving the Pump Room. Marc and Georgiana had gone to find Marc something to eat. However, they all knew it was just an excuse to give Emme and James time together.

The park was still full of people lounging on chairs and children laughing despite the fading light. Bath Abbey was a dark silhouette against the setting sun.

Emme’s hand was nestled into the crook of James’ elbow as they strolled along. It felt so frightfully right to have him here, with her.

Hugging his arm closer, she said, “We thought you might have died in a carriage accident. I can’t express how worried we were.”

“A carriage accident?” James looked puzzled for just a second and then realization dawned. “Oh, my darling, I am so sorry. I never thought you would find out about such a thing. Goodness, it’s such a story.”

“Tell me then!” Emme pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “Oh, James, I’m just so relieved that you’re finally here.”

James’ smooth laugh heated her through.

“Where to begin? As you may already know, Arthur and Marianne were married last week. Well, last week in 1812. Marianne was radiant. Arthur sends his regards. Linwood gave the bride away. I think he may have actually smiled, but it was hard to tell. Linwood can be difficult to read at the best of times.”