Intertwine (House of Oak Book 1)

by Nichole Van

  “I’m still not following what this has to do with me. What dastardly thing does Arthur know?”

  “Are you really this obtuse or just pretending stupidity to annoy me?”

  Oh, is this annoying him? Alter Emme muttered. Cause I can get behind that.

  Emme stiffened her neck, refusing to rise to his insult. “Pretend that I really am this obtuse. What, my lord, are you accusing me of?”

  Linwood continued to stare at her. “I know about your locket. I know everything.”

  Emme blinked.

  Uhmmm, okay, so he knows about the locket. And that’s bad why? Alter Emme was equally befuddled.

  “My lord, I do have a locket. It has been kept a secret because of the odd resemblance between the sitter and Jam—I mean, Mr. Knight—but I fail to understand why this simple fact is so significant.”

  “Ah, so you claim the sitter is not James Knight?”

  “Of course. It would simplify everything if it were Mr. Knight, but the inscription within the locket itself makes it clear that the sitter is not him. And then there is Mr. Knight’s word.”

  Linwood snorted and shrugged his shoulders. “We know what Knight’s word is worth, what honor means to him.”

  Emme bristled at the derision in his tone. “I will not stand here, sir, and allow you to speak ill of Mr. Knight. He has been all that is good and kind to me. He is a man of honor and—”

  “Honor! Please, Knight cares little for honor. But I do believe that he has been kind to you.” Linwood stepped closer to her. Too close. “Has he been all that you would wish? Generous? Are you happy with your current arrangement? Or would you perhaps be interested in a change?”

  Emme gasped. “What are you implying?”

  “My implication should be obvious, madam.”

  Emme frowned as Linwood looked her up and down. Assessing. Contemplating a new purchase.

  “I am a wealthy man. You would be wise to consider coming under my protection. I will happily double whatever Knight currently offers you.”

  Emme stood still with shock.

  Uh, honey, does Mr. Arrogant mean what I think he means? Alter Emme gasped.

  She shook her head in disbelief. “I find this conversation offensive, my lord. I am done with it.”

  Emme turned on her heel and prepared to leave, shaking in anger. How dare he! How dare he suggest what she thought he was suggesting! As if!

  She had taken only one step when a strong hand on her forearm stopped her, holding her tightly. Forcing her back to him.

  “You would be a fool to walk away from me,” Linwood said lowly in her ear. “I am always fair. Lavish even. You would have everything you could wish for. An establishment of your own, clothes, a carriage, jewels. Is Knight currently offering you that? Or do you just subsist on his sister’s cast-offs?”

  Emme found she was actually too stunned to reply. She just stared at him, at his hold on her arm.

  Wow! Could he be any more offensive? Alter Emme whispered in shock.

  Linwood raised his opposite hand and stroked her shoulder. Slowly, almost possessively.

  Why, yes. Yes, he could.

  Emme suppressed a shudder. She took a step back, pulling on the arm he still held.

  “You will release my arm and stop touching me. Now.” Emme could feel her temper rising. “You clearly have mistaken my relationship with Mr. Knight, not to mention the kind of person that I am.”

  Linwood snorted in disbelief. “Please, spare me your protestations of virtue and innocence. As if anyone would believe such a thing after your behavior here over these last weeks. ”

  Emme gasped. “How dare you! Release me!” Emme kept her voice low and firm. “Release me or I will be compelled to release myself.”

  “Release yourself?” Linwood gave her a thoroughly amused look and strengthened his hold on her arm, his eyes taunting. “You are merely a woman. What could you possibly do?”

  Emme had had enough. He had insulted her in every possible way. Linwood was not a small man and his grip on her arm was tight and hard. Vice-like. But she suddenly understood with lightning clarity what she could and would do.

  “You were warned.”

  Hardly thinking, Emme stepped slightly sideways and swung the arm he held in a tight circle, breaking his grip. At the same time, she grabbed his forearm with her free hand and used the leverage to thrust her knee squarely into his groin while simultaneously driving an elbow into his jaw.

  Hard.

  The moves felt fluid. Practiced. Instinctual. Like she had done them hundreds of times in the past.

  Linwood went down with a whimpering moan, collapsing on the pavement.

  Emme didn’t wait for him to rise. She turned and half ran down the path, eyes intent on the back garden door and escape.

  Suddenly, another hand snaked out to grab her. She stifled a scream and nearly lashed out again, but stopped herself in time as James’ voice washed over her.

  “Hush! It’s all right.”

  Chapter 23

  James had noticed Emma slip out through the door onto the small balcony, Linwood following shortly after. Concerned, he had worked his way through the crowd and slipped out after them. Hurrying down the stairs, he heard Linwood’s low voice rumble and Emma’s tense reply, seeming to defend him, James. Coming around the corner, he noted with alarm that Linwood held Emma’s arm and stood over her threateningly.

  But his shout of “Release her!” stopped in his throat. James watched in wide-eyed astonishment as Emma moved sharply, breaking Linwood’s hold on her arm and, with a well-placed knee and elbow, dropped the viscount to the ground like a stone.

  It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. Smooth and clean. The movements of a fighter but unlike any he had ever witnessed.

  James fell completely and utterly in love with her at that moment.

  Whoever and whatever she proved to be.

  He was hers.

  Grinning, he stepped back into the shadows and snared her hand as she rushed past.

  As she turned on him, he realized a little late that grabbing her probably hadn’t been the best decision.

  Instantly releasing her, he whispered, “Hush! It’s all right.”

  She gave a little sob of relief and partially collapsed against him. Grasping her hand, he led her away from Linwood, still groaning on the ground, drawing her through the garden and out the side door, emerging into an alleyway that opened onto the village green.

  James could feel her shaking as her altercation with Linwood sank in. He drew her next to him as they walked down the alleyway, wrapping an arm around her bare shoulders. And then, as she continued to shake, he stopped and shrugged out of his coat and tucked it around her. He watched as she snuggled into its warmth.

  “Come,” he whispered and led her into the trees of the village green, settling her onto a bench that looked toward the parish church and cuddled her into his side.

  “Are you all right? Would you like to talk about it?” he murmured in her ear.

  Emma stared ahead, her face expressionless. Then she sighed and looked down.

  “Linwood knows about the locket. He thinks my memory loss is a sham and that you . . . that we are . . . ,” her voice faded off.

  “Lovers?” James supplied.

  “Yes. And he also implied that I am . . . well . . . that you are not . . .”

  “Your only lover?”

  “Yes. That I am a professional.”

  James stared angrily ahead, unseeing.

  “That wasn’t the worst of it though.”

  “Truly?”

  “Linwood . . . well . . . he suggested I might like a change of, uh, scenery, if you will.”

  James felt as if he had been clubbed in the chest. The breath hissed out of him.

  “Linwood is an absolute ass.”

  “Yes.”

  “How hard did you hit him?”

  “Hard.”

  James nodded in satisfaction.

 
“That’s a good start. Would you like me to call him out for you?” he asked.

  Emma turned slightly to look up at him. “You would do that for me? I thought you didn’t hold much to silly old-fashioned notions of besmirched honor?”

  “I don’t,” he said, carefully tucking that one stray curl behind her ear. “But I will always defend you.”

  Emma silently considered him for a moment, blinked and then turned her face away.

  “What if he is right?” she whispered. “What if that is the reason I was on your lane that night? What if someone had cast me off? What if I am no better than someone’s unwanted mistress?”

  James shrugged. “That is a possibility. But I decided long ago it makes no difference to me.”

  “But it matters to me.” Her voice hung quietly between them. “I would like to think that I am more than that. More than a person who would sell herself for profit.”

  James sat silently, contemplating her lovely profile, wishing he had answers for her.

  “I want to be more for you.” She turned to him. Her hazel eyes dark in the dim moonlight. “I want better for you than some . . . someone’s cast-off mistress.”

  James captured her chin between his fingers before she could turn away. “You are a lady to me and that is all that matters.”

  Her eyes swelled with unshed tears. At that moment, James gave up resisting.

  She belonged with him. Not to him. But with him.

  She was part and parcel of his soul.

  And he was done denying it.

  “No matter what anyone says of you. No matter what you might have been in your past, I will always treat you with respect.”

  His voice was emphatic. Impassioned.

  “I want you by my side. Honorably. Not as a purchased possession. I may not care too much for society’s rules, but I care very much about personal dignity. Particularly in those I love.”

  She gasped at his words, blinking as tears slipped down her cheeks. James leaned in and brushed them away with his lips, tasting their bitter saltiness.

  He slid his fingers off her chin to cup her cheek, rubbing her petal soft skin with his thumb. Slowly, he turned his head toward her mouth, giving her ample opportunity to pull away. To say no to his kiss.

  But he willed her to stay. Willed her to accept him.

  And she did. In fact, she leaned in, moving her mouth fractionally closer to his.

  They exchanged breaths for a moment, each testing the other, waiting for one of them to draw back. Neither did.

  And then James moved that final inch.

  Her lips were as soft as he had dreamed. Warm and full and sweet. Yielding and lush. She tasted of honey and exotic shores he had never visited.

  James kept the kiss light and gentle. Letting her lead. Taking what she will.

  She tentatively lifted a hand to his hair. Raked her fingers against his scalp. Possessive. She then moaned softly and melted into him. He sensed something shift within her. Felt her hand tightened against his head. Her lips parted and the kiss suddenly stopped being sweet and gentle.

  And turned into something much, much more.

  His kiss devastated her. Tore through to her very soul. Crumbling every defense.

  Emme tried to keep it light. Soft.

  But then she buried her fingers in his thick hair and something exploded within her.

  Something that she had needed for far too long.

  Something her heart understood. That her mind had forgotten.

  Something she yearned to keep forever.

  Emme had no idea how long they stayed locked together.

  Long enough for her to memorize the taste of him. Long enough for her to never want to leave.

  And also long enough for them both to silently realize Emme’s kissing skills were somewhat advanced for a proper young lady.

  Finally, Emme drew back and rested her forehead against his, her fingers still laced around his neck.

  “I meant what I said,” James whispered, his breath a puff of air against her lips. “You are a lady to me and that is all that matters.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured in reply. “Though given everything that you have done, a simple ‘thank you’ seems terribly inadequate.”

  She felt more than saw his answering smile. He brushed his lips over her nose and pulled back slightly.

  “I have watched Arthur torture himself for years over Marianne. I have seen Georgiana lose all hope of love as her illness claims her body. Love happens so rarely, it seems. It is a shame to let it slip away because of fear.”

  Emme sighed and nestled her nose against his neck, cuddling her body closer to his. James wrapped his arms around her.

  “We will sort it out,” he murmured against her hair. “You will see.”

  The study

  Haldon Manor

  The following morning

  June 13, 1812

  James awoke the next morning feeling optimism and hope. He had kissed Emma and they were going be together.

  Period.

  He would find a way, with or without her memory.

  Emma was alone in the breakfast room when he arrived, not even a footman in sight. Grasping the opportunity, he snatched her around the waist, pulling her to him. Kissed her achingly in greeting, Emma every bit as soft and warm as she had been the night before. James decided then and there that he wanted each morning to begin with Emma’s kiss.

  After a laughing breakfast, they had adjourned to his study to discuss things. Their things. Their future.

  “We will make this work,” James said, staring at her intently, leaning back to half sit on the front of his desk, arms crossed on his chest. “I haven’t come this far to lose you now.”

  “But, James, without my memory . . . ,” her voice trailed off. Emma sat in a chair opposite his desk, looking particularly lovely in teal muslin, short dark hair curling about her face. Her hazel eyes pale in the morning window light, full of concern.

  “If it returns, we will deal with it. But in the meantime, we plan our future. It seems that I have waited my entire life for you. I have no intention of ever letting you out of my sight again.”

  Emma smiled faintly. “You must realize there might be a lot of truth in what Lord Linwood implied. With everything that we do know about me up to this point, it’s becoming harder and harder to believe I fit neatly into some respectable box. You want us to be together, but I fear the price for you might be too high.”

  “As I said last night, I have spent my life watching those around me cast off what they want most because of convention, because they fear the unknown. I will not follow in their footsteps.”

  “But I feel like you are giving up everything for me. I have read enough novels to wonder if love is enough. So, James—”

  “No, Emma, hear me. If we find your past is such that we cannot stay here, then we will leave. I am not afraid of starting over. We will go to America or the West Indies. It matters not to me, as long as we’re together. I have money and can leave Haldon Manor in the care of my steward with Arthur to advise him. You know Georgiana’s health is the only reason I have stayed as long as I have.” His face suddenly brightened. “Perhaps we can even take Georgiana with us. A warmer clime might improve her lungs.”

  “But without my memory, . . . I don’t know if I can embark on a new life without knowing what my old one was.” Emma let out a heavy sigh. “We are at such an impasse.”

  “Darling, you will not dissuade me. I will find a way. You must trust me.” James unfolded his arms and moved around the desk.

  This would work. He would make it work. She had become too vital to him. Too necessary.

  “Sir Henry has some contacts within the East India Company that he is forever pestering me about. He gave me the man’s direction again just last week. Now, where did I place it?”

  James scanned the top of his desk. Not seeing the scrap of paper from Sir Henry, he started opening drawers, ending with the left side drawer of his
desk. He shuffled through the drawer, pulling out that odd purse he kept forgetting to hand over to his gamekeeper. He placed the purse on his desktop and continued to look through the drawer, raking a hand through his hair.

  “Truly, it was just here,” he muttered in frustration.

  He heard voices and then a knock sounded on his study door.

  “Come,” he called.

  His butler entered, a hint of concern showing on his usually mask-like face. “Sir, Lord Linwood is here and has insisted upon having a word with you. I placed him in the drawing room.”

  James sighed. He had expected a visit from Linwood. Just not quite this soon.

  “I’m sorry, Emma dear,” he murmured. “Linwood must be dealt with. I will return shortly.”

  He turned to leave and then noted her suddenly startled eyes. “Don’t worry. There is nothing Linwood can do to harm us. It will all be all right.” James smiled tightly, following his butler out of the room.

  Too distracted by the upcoming confrontation with Linwood, James forgot to analyze why Emma’s eyes had looked shocked. He did not notice her panicked breathing as he left the room. Did not see her stand—shaking—and reach for the purse he had left on his desk. Did not watch her trembling fingers fumble with the complex clasp, opening it.

  But when he returned over an hour later, James did notice one thing.

  His study was empty.

  Chapter 24

  Emme stared at the purse in her hands. Its smooth leather so impossibly familiar. Besides the locket, it was the most familiar thing she had yet seen.

  Tentatively, she lifted it up, surprised at its heavy weight. The clasp was unlike anything she remembered seeing, but her fingers undid it with practiced ease. Under the clasp, there was a zipper.

  Zipper. She hadn’t seen one since arriving at Haldon Manor, but her mind remembered the word.

  Shaking, she unzipped the bag, sinking back into her chair. With quaking hand, she pulled the purse open and looked inside. There she saw wondrous things. Achingly familiar things. Items she hadn’t seen at Haldon Manor.

  Her hand reached in and pulled out a thin rectangular object made seemingly of glass. It was about the size of a book and felt heavy and cool.