Intertwine (House of Oak Book 1)

by Nichole Van

  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.”

  Emme gave a knowing grin. “How wonderful. I am so happy for them. Did our sudden disappearance cause you too much trouble? Did you have to resurrect the dastardly Buick Chevrolet to explain our absence?”

  James chuckled appreciatively. “No, unfortunately. Though that would have been a nice twist to the whole tale,” he conceded with a nod. “With the tornado tearing up half the county, the severity of Georgiana’s illness went generally unnoticed. I put it about that you had accompanied her north to Liverpool, seeking treatment from Dr. Carson for her consumption.”

  Emme nodded. “And your own disappearance? Please tell me it was a carriage accident.”

  He grinned and pulled her closer. “Well, for the time being I have merely joined you and Georgiana in Liverpool. But Arthur will tell of our untimely death in a tragic carriage accident should we not return. And given that my death has already been announced, that seems to be the case.”

  Emme paused. “So you don’t think to return?” she asked quietly.

  James was silent for a moment.

  “You left your tablet with me, you know, in 1812.”

  Emme nodded her head in agreement. “Yes. I didn’t have the heart to deprive you of Angry Birds. Not to mention Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. I know how much you wanted to finish it.”

  She smiled faintly at his bark of laughter.

  “I did finish the book. Delightful, by the way. Who knew that Lady Catherine de Bourgh kept ninjas? But I also found other things in your research notes that gave me ideas.”

  Emme cocked an eyebrow at him in question.

  “I remembered what you said about provenance and needing to make sure that things came forward in a respectable manner.”

  Something was nagging at the back of Emme’s brain. Some little piece of a puzzle that she couldn’t quite put together. She frowned, thinking for a moment. Trying to drag it forward.

  And then it clicked.

  “Sir Henry’s coin collection! Your father’s coin collection!” she gasped.

  James chuckled. “Exactly! I placed the collection in trust with my solicitors, Hartington, Chatham and Ware. Sir Henry, bless his soul, acted as advocate for the collection and ensured that it was properly protected.”

  “But the collection was just sold at Sotheby’s. I heard it on the news. It went for some astronomical sum, over £100 million pounds!” Emme paused as another thought hit her. “I had that article on my tablet, about the sale of the coins. You recognized them?”

  “I did indeed. It seemed fate had already provided me with a solution. I just needed to put it into action. . . . And I also understand it is bad form to mess with the space-time continuum.” That last bit said with a sardonic lift of his eyebrows.

  “I’m going to make you watch Back to the Future. Then you’ll see what I’m talking about.” Emme wagged a knowing finger at him, her voice mock-serious.

  “Well, it all worked. Marc was kind enough to stop by my solicitor’s office on the way down here. I assume Arthur will inherit. . . . No, I guess that is not quite right. . . . Arthur inherited Haldon Manor as my heir. In any case, it took some time—nearly two months of it obviously—but I managed to amend the entail before I left. After my supposed death, Arthur could move Duir Cottage into a separate trust for me to be held by our solicitors. It seemed vitally important to protect the portal. So in addition to the proceeds from the sale of the coins, I also own a beautiful cottage in the Herefordshire countryside that has a time portal in the basement. All in all, I thought I might explore the 21st century for a while.” He winked at her.

  Emme laughed, stopped and threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly.

  “I think that to be a perfectly brilliant idea!”

  James chuckled and guided them off the path to stand under a tree somewhat sheltered from the rest of the park.

  “Which brings me to another question. I have always wanted to see the West Indies, as you well know.” His smile was warm and buttery, melting Emme’s heart into a heavenly puddle. “And I understand it is possible to be married on a beach there. Under palm trees. At sunset.”

  Emme’s heart jumped into her throat. Tears sprung in her eyes. “Oh, James,” she whispered.

  He also seemed to be struggling with his emotions. He reached a hand up and brushed her hair, trailing his hand down her neck.

  Feather light and scalding.

  “Emme,” he murmured. “I love you, my darling. I have missed you so. . . . ”

  His voice broke and James took a deep, steadying breath, his blue eyes liquid and naked, drowning in hers.

  He continued brokenly.

  “I have missed you so very much. The brightness of your smile. The quickness of your mind. The delight of your wit. I said I would go through forever and back to find you. But I would really prefer not to wait so long to have you as my own.”

  Emme drank him in, loving every sound of his voice, every flicker of expression.

  “Oh, darling,” she breathed, “there is nothing . . . nothing now . . . nothing then . . . nothing in any time that I love so well as you.”

  She leaned forward and slid her fingers possessively into his hair. And then kissed him. Soft and slow. Lingeringly sweet.

  James let out a small groan and then pulled back slightly.

  “I
promised myself I would do this properly,” he murmured against her lips.

  With a deep breath, he took a step back and went down on one knee. Emme’s eyes widened, tears instantly threatening again. Really, hadn’t she already cried enough for one afternoon?

  “Oh, James, kneeling and everything?” she asked.

  James laughed. “No breaking my concentration, love. I may not care about propriety, but certain things are too important to not get just right.”

  Taking her hand, he smiled into her eyes. “Dearest, darlingest Emme, will you make me the happiest of men and agree to be my wife? For now and forever?”

  Emme nodded her head vigorously. “Yes!” she choked.

  With a delighted chuckle, James surged to his feet and Emme drowned herself in his kiss again.

  After a minute, James pulled back, much to Emme’s frustration. She tried to force his mouth back to hers, but he merely laughed softly and pecked her lips.

  “I thought I would give this to you as a wedding gift, but I find I cannot wait.” He brought out a thin box from his jacket pocket and handed it to her, eyes expectant as he wrapped an arm tightly around her waist.

  Puzzled, Emme slowly opened the box. Inside there was something oval and thin. Emme could feel the heft of it in her hand. Giving James a quizzical look, she handed him the box and then carefully unwrapped the object.

  A golden locket emerged in her hand. Bright and polished, filigree covering its gilt frame.

  Emme gasped, blinking through her sudden tears. The back of the locket was partially covered in transparent crystal. Under the crystal, two locks of hair were braided into an intricate pattern—one bright and fair, the other a dark chocolate brown.

  Gilded on top of the crystal, two initials were nestled together in a stylized gold symbol. Emme sucked in a breath.

  She traced the letters—E and F. Familiar. Like a sense of home.

  And then she quietly opened the locket. And let out a small sob.

  She had expected to see the portrait of James, staring enigmatically out at her.

  But instead, she saw two faces.

  His broad and crinkly smile, blue eyes dancing and kind.

  And then there . . . next to him.