by Nichole Van
Seriously? Wasn’t that a bit much?
Besides, she was wearing the locket, so nothing could happen. James’ portrait would keep her safe as it always had. Right?
A gust of wind hit them again, causing the horse to dance slightly in his harness. She tasted rain in the air and realized they would not make it back to Haldon Manor before the storm hit. Tightening her grip on the reins, Emme anxiously scanned the surrounding forest for some shelter, wanting to get Georgiana under cover. Spotting a woodcutter’s shed through the trees, she turned the gig off the main road and made for the structure.
Within just seconds, the wind picked up, whipping twigs and leaves around them. Georgiana let out a cry of alarm, covering her head with her arms to shield herself. Frustrated, Emme realized the forest would hide a tornado from them until the last possible second.
Stopping in front of the shed, Emme pulled the horse under the cantilevered roof. Quickly climbing down, she turned to help Georgiana. Emme wrenched the door open and pulled Georgiana inside, just as rain began to pelt heavily, drumming the roof, the sky opening in a torrent of water and wind. The walls shuddered.
Eyes adjusting to the dim light inside, Emme closed and latched the door. The shed was small but more or less waterproof, which was all that mattered at the moment. Emme could feel Georgiana trembling at her side. The temperature had dropped significantly, all the humidity turning into a bone-dampening chill. Georgiana doubled over in a deep hacking cough, digging a handkerchief out of a pocket.
“It’s alright, Georgiana,” Emme said in what she hoped was a soothing tone, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and holding her until the coughing fit calmed. Glancing around at the stacked wood and listening to the weather rage outside, Emme guided Georgiana to sit on a larger log wedged in one of the corners. The shack quaked as a rough burst of wind hit it.
“Heavens, what a storm!” Georgiana said with a game little smile, coughing yet again. Emme noticed the pink tinged mucous on her handkerchief.
“Sorry,” Georgiana muttered. “Wind always seems to aggravate my cough. At least we managed to stay dry.”
Emme nodded. And then she heard something on the wind.
The sound she had been dreading.
Like a freight train. Just as it was always described.
“What is that terrible noise?” Georgiana asked, her eyes widening with alarm.
“Get down! Protect your head!” Emme called, pushing Georgiana to the ground, throwing her own body on top, covering her.
Emme heard the roar. Her ears popped painfully, as air was sucked from her lungs. The shed groaned and shrieked.
The hut exploded around them, the powerful fury of the tornado raking her skin. The wind whipped her around, wrenching Georgiana away. Pelting rain instantly soaked her. Emme felt wind born debris stinging her skin. Something clubbed her in the chest, knocking the breath out of her and throwing her to the ground. She instantly curled into a ball, instinctively covering her head.
The whole event took just seconds and then the tempest receded, traveling away from them. Gasping for breath, Emme pushed herself up. She seemed okay. Looking at her arms, she could see small cuts from flying debris, but a quick flex of muscles and bones convinced her that she had, amazingly, suffered no real harm.
But where was Georgiana?
Rain poured from the sky, making it hard to see.
“Georgiana!” she called, lurching to her feet.
Brushing water out of her eyes, Emme spotted Georgiana’s crumpled form a short distance away. Stumbling over debris, Emme reached Georgiana’s side. Breathed a sigh of relief to see her move, to hear her moan.
“Georgiana? Can you hear me?” Crouching next to her, Emme quickly tried to assess the damage, feeling through Georgiana’s sodden clothing. There were no obvious cuts or wounds. Georgiana opened her eyes, staring into Emme’s.
“Good heavens!” Her voice was hoarse and weak. A terrible cough cut through her and she shivered uncontrollably. Emme wrapped an arm around her.
“W-what ha-p-pened?” Georgiana chattered through clenched teeth.
“It was a tornado. You’re freezing. We need to get you back to Haldon Manor before you catch your death. How do you feel?”
“C-c-c-cold.”
“I don’t see any wounds.” Emme placed an arm around Georgiana’s shoulders and helped her stand. However, as soon as Georgiana put weight on her right foot, she cried out in agony and sagged against Emme.
“M-my ankle,” she said in anguish.
Gently helping Georgiana to sit down, Emme pushed back Georgiana’s skirts to inspect her ankle encased in a tight half boot. Emme immediately realized the boot probably provided some much needed support and stability. So instead of removing it, she gently pressed along the outside. No response. However, Georgiana moaned in pain when Emme took her ankle and rotated it in the boot. The ankle was definitely sprained, if not broken.
Sighing, she acknowledged that Georgiana could not walk back to Haldon Manor. Emme looked around, trying to see what had become of their horse and gig, but the driving rain was nearly blinding. Georgiana curled herself into a ball on the ground, coughs wracking her body.
“Come, let’s get you out of this rain,” Emme said, kneeling back beside Georgiana.
Later, Emme wouldn’t remember exactly how she managed to half carry Georgiana to the shelter of some trees that were still standing. Georgiana’s shivering became even more pronounced, and Emme held her close, hoping that the warmth of her own body would help. Georgiana coughed until Emme feared she couldn’t breathe, her inhalations sounding heavy and labored.
The rain let up somewhat, changing into a steady drizzle. Emme considered leaving Georgiana and going for help. But she was hopelessly turned around. The road had vanished under a layer of debris. She worried she would not be able to locate Haldon Manor and then find Georgiana again.
How long before someone came looking for them?
Georgiana’s shivering abated slightly, which Emme initially thought to be a good thing. But Georgiana became lethargic and sleepy. Terrified, Emme realized that she was actually slipping deeper into hypothermia. If she fell asleep, she might not wake up.
Hugging her closer, Emme said, “Don’t you dare fall asleep on me, Georgiana! You must stay awake. Sleep could mean death.”
“I’m so sleepy,” Georgiana whispered. “So tired.”
“Fight, Georgiana. Don’t give up!”
“Why? Death will claim me soon enough. Why continue to fight the inevitable? I am so tired, Emme. So very tired.”
A chill coursed through Emme. She had to do something. Anything.
Scrambling for something to keep her attention, Emme said, “I lied last week. At Sir Henry’s ball. I’m not a spy.”
She felt Georgiana’s surprise. Though not quite the way she wanted to tell Georgiana, it most certainly served its purpose. Georgiana was instantly more alert.
Georgiana paused for a moment. “Does James know?”
“Yes, James knows. We . . . we lied because the truth is more complicated.”
“More complicated than assisting Princess Pepsi of Toyota Camry while being hunted by the French spy Buick Chevrolet?” Georgiana’s voice communicated her disbelief.
Emme laughed. She couldn’t help it.
“Yes, Georgie, it truly is. Even worse than being a spy. You probably won’t believe me, but it is a tale you will relish—full of mystery and even a touch of the supernatural.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened, though Emme couldn’t tell if it was from shock or excitement. “Tell me,” she whispered after a moment. “Tell me the truth.”
And so Emme did. She told her about airplanes and cars and television. About jeans and lip gloss and penicillin.
To Emme’s relief, Georgiana stayed awake through it all, asking eager questions. Particularly about antibiotics and the very real chance that if she traveled the portal with them, she could be cured.
“So you see,
you must fight to live because there truly is hope,” Emme said when Georgiana drooped with weariness. “You have everything to live for.”
“To live,” Georgiana coughed. And then coughed again. “To have my future back. That would be so wonderful. Would it hurt? This 21st century medicine?”
“No . . . well, it might hurt a tiny bit as they would probably need to give you an IV, but it would feel like a pin prick.”
“Is that all? So little?”
“Well, the needle is somewhat large, so it would be a large pin prick, but, yes, that is all. Though you would most likely be treated at a hospital, not in your own home. And the hospitals can be somewhat cold. Lots of white.”
Georgiana smiled wearily. “I would be okay with that.”
After hours of sitting huddled on the ground, Emme heard shouts. Releasing Georgiana, Emme climbed stiffly to her feet, yelling back. She almost wept with relief when she saw Arthur and several other men coming through the torn and battered trees toward them.
“Praise be to God!” Arthur exclaimed. “We had almost despaired of finding you alive!” In a matter of seconds, Georgiana was wrapped in blankets and carried to a waiting horse.
Arthur turned to Emme, unfolding a blanket to wrap around her shoulders too. And then he paused, looking at her upper chest in surprise.
Emme glanced down and for the first time noticed that something had hit her there, ripping through her pelisse and the walking dress underneath. Gingerly brushing her fingers over her sternum, she realized there was no wound in her skin. Instead, her hand came away with James’ locket.
Mangled. Shattered.
Something sharp had penetrated it, destroying the outer case and its inscription. Splintering the portrait on the ivory panel. Stopping at last at the cracked back case, fracturing the intertwined initials, but not penetrating them.
Saving Emme.
Shaking for the first time since the tornado hit, Emme covered her mouth, refusing to allow her sob to escape. Grateful for Arthur’s considerate arm around her shoulders.
Chapter 30
Haldon Manor
Georgiana’s bedroom
Two days later
July 13, 1812
She still breathes?”
Emme looked up as Arthur entered. It was more of a question than a statement.
Late afternoon sunlight slanted through the window, its warmth mocking the chilled clamminess of Georgiana’s pale skin.
Emme nodded her head. “But for how long, I wonder. Her condition is serious.”
They still hadn’t heard from James. Arthur had sent multiple messages to him in London, but too little time had passed. It was still several days before he could reasonably be expected to return home, even if he rode all night.
And the locket. Emme had held it tightly in her hand after returning to Haldon Manor. Seeing such an old friend mangled and maimed had been painful.
Its shattering troubled her. Was the destruction of the locket a symbol of something more? Though she pushed negative thoughts from her mind, they kept returning. Whispering treacherous things. Would she ever see James again?
And then there was Georgiana. For two days, she had lain wracked by fever, slowly weakening. Fading before Emme’s eyes.
The doctor had come and gone. Georgiana’s ankle was badly sprained but not broken. However, the cold and wet had deeply affected her lungs, leaving her cough rasping. Georgiana struggled to suck in each breath, air wheezing. The doctor recommended bleeding as a cure but had backed down in the face of Emme’s fury.
Instead, Emme had been carefully giving Georgiana ibuprofen from her first aid kit when no one was looking. The pain killer seemed to lessen the swelling in her lungs and definitely helped abate the fever. But it was not enough. It just eased Georgiana’s symptoms. There was nothing in Emme’s purse that could help the underlying cause.
After two sleepless nights, Emme realized Georgiana was dying. Her friend lay so still under the covers, her breathing labored. Something wet rattled in her chest, her weakened body not strong enough to fight off the infection that now raged.
Helplessly, Emme sat and watched her friend struggle to breathe.
“Perhaps she will pull through.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair, so reminiscent of his brother.
Emme’s lungs tightened.
She shook her head. They both knew that was not likely.
Georgiana lay unconscious as she had been for the last day, so thin and frail. Her skin a terrifying shade of grey-white, breathing shallow and harsh. Suddenly she convulsed, coughing raspy and deep, curling into a ball. Emme held a handkerchief to her mouth, noting the blood on it. How much longer could Georgiana hold on?
Arthur stared stonily throughout the incident. At a loss.
Emme swallowed, turning back to him, and took a deep breath. Faced her options.
There really was only one answer at this point.
She made a decision. The decision that James would make if he were in her situation.
“Arthur,” she said firmly, raising her eyes to his and holding them. “I lied to you last week in Sir Henry’s library. I am not a spy. But I can save Georgiana. However, I will need your help to do so.”
In the end, it was fairly easy to convince Arthur. After the initial shock and outrage, Emme pulled out her purse. It took less than five minutes with her phone and tablet to make Arthur believe her. Surprisingly easy, all things considered.
He apologized for thinking the worst of her. Emme merely gave a quiet, sad laugh and forgave him. She then proceeded to explain about antibiotics and the near-surety of Georgiana’s cure if they were able to travel the portal. Arthur’s eyes bulged from his head as he dashed from the room, racing to find a stretcher to transport his sister.
While Arthur had a wagon prepared to move Georgiana, Emme slipped into James’ study and sat at his desk. She paused for a moment, thinking. Then, she pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote:
My dearest James,
I don’t know where or when I will be when you receive this letter. Georgiana is dying; there is no longer hope for her here. Death is such a final thing. More final than any trip through a portal. And I can’t in good conscience watch her die knowing that there is something . . . anything I can do to prevent it. This is the decision you would make were you here. You would want Georgiana to live.
You have saved me in so many ways. Forgive me as I try to save something for you.
This isn’t exactly what we had planned, but I pray you will be able to follow us through the portal once your affairs are settled. In the meantime, I am sorry that I did not have one more kiss from you. One more chance to hear your laugh in my ear.
Do not worry, my love. I will wait for you on the other side. Please take care of your darling self.
You are my heart. Now and forever. I love you.
Emme
She folded the letter and wrapped it around the remains of the broken locket. She packed everything into her purse and gently left it on his desk, her note nestled inside. She only retained her phone, stuffed into her stays.
Arthur drove them quietly through the fading light to the meadow, tense and silent by her side. Georgiana’s arduous breathing came from the wagon bed behind.
“You really think this will work?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. It truly is our last hope.”
“And why can’t I come too?”
Emme sighed. This was at least the tenth time he had asked this question.
“What would you do there, Arthur? How would your presence help?”
“I could protect my sister. Ensure that she receives the proper attention.”
“That will happen regardless. Besides you have Marianne and your life here. Even if you were able to come with us, there is no guarantee you could come back. I don’t think that you would much like life in the 21st century.”
He merely grunted.
“What if the portal doesn’t work?” he said again after
a few more moments.
He really was persistent.
“As I said, that is a real possibility. If it doesn’t work, at least we tried. I could not sit and watch Georgiana die and not do something. I couldn’t forgive myself. I couldn’t expect James to forgive me.”
Arthur nodded his head in agreement.
“But our need is great,” she continued. “And our lives intertwined, so perhaps it will work.”
“What if you never see James again?”
Emme choked back a sob. Thinking of him. Her premonition over the shattered locket.
“I trust he will find a way,” she whispered. And then more emphatically, “We will find a way.”
Arriving in the meadow, she helped Arthur lift the still unconscious Georgiana from the bed of the wagon and followed as he carried his sister the last few steps to the portal. The meadow was quiet and still.
Waiting. Expectant.
Arthur stood before the sawn off trunk, its dark interior still yawning. Emme felt the same heaviness she had experienced in the past. The same tingling along her arms.
“Thank you, Arthur Knight,” she said, looking him in the eye. “If I never see you again, thank you for all that you have done. Tell James that I love him. And make sure he gets the note I left.”
Arthur nodded. “I will. I promise. And for your part, please take care of my Georgiana. Keep her safe. I give her to your care.” He kissed his sister’s cheek. “Adieu.”
“Here,” Emme whispered, “stand her up against me. I can support her.”
Arthur slowly lowered Georgiana, resting her feet against the ground. Georgiana groaned. Emme sagged slightly as Georgiana’s full weight hit her, but wrapping an arm around her waist, Emme was able to keep them both upright.
Taking a deep breath, Emme stepped forward and placed a foot into the wide space cut into the trunk. The electrical tingling became stronger, the tug more insistent. The hair on her arms stood on end as the hum of some invisible current coursed through her.
Suddenly, something pulled her forward. Insistent. Almost greedy.
Vertigo and blackness took her.