Lucas arched one brow, his attention shifting from one to the other. But his body didn’t move.
“It’s most kind of you both to appear two days after the fact and inquire about Emma’s well-being,” Lucas said dryly. “As you can see, aside from a few bruises, she’s fine.”
Lucas had never been one overly fond of the dictates of society but if it was one thing he knew, his father was a stickler for them. Which meant, logically, once the locals who had been watching the hijacking had shared the story with anyone who would listen, his father should have come immediately to the house.
Not only checking on Emma, but checking on his son, as well. Lucas was the one who had jumped onto a waiting horse and taken after the carriage. He was the one who had leaped onto the carriage top and removed the man at the reins. It had been Lucas who attempted to stop the runaway horses to save an unconscious Emma. Yet here stood his father, not mentioning a thing. Puzzling.
“I was also concerned for you,” Alister St. Christopher glared at his son before turning his gaze on Emma. “My apologies, my dear.”
“You didn’t bring flowers,” Emma said with a deliberately petulant swing to her voice. “Why are you concerned for Lucas? Was he unconscious in the carriage, too?”
“Was…” her father looked at her with a deepening frown.
“You knocked me out. You drugged me,” she continued thoughtfully, deciding she’d get the entire story one way or another.
“You were hysterical,” James Carstairs corrected her firmly. “I gave you a sleeping draught to calm you.”
“You gambled me away to a stranger in a card game. Now why in heaven’s name would I be distraught?” Emma laughed at the reddened face of her father and the other man. “So here I was, in a carriage with my trunks, unconscious. Left alone on the curb, when some crazed individual came along and decided to steal the carriage. Where were you? Why did you leave the carriage unattended?”
“This was a most unfortunate incident…” Alister began cautiously.
“We were preparing for departure inside the inn,” James Carstairs said flatly.
“Why were you there, Lucas?” Emma asked abruptly, forgetting not only her place but that she should never interrupt her betters. She let the puzzle pieces form in her mind.
“I was summoned to meet my intended bride,” he said, the words low and edged with anger. “When I arrived at the inn where they were meeting, you were already in the carriage, unconscious, only I didn’t know until the thing was hijacked.”
“What happened?” She asked softly, her right hand sliding down his arm to twine her fingers with his. Forward, she knew, but something wasn’t right. He was aggravated and very angry but she wasn’t sure at whom.
“The fool mounted a strange horse and tore after the carriage like some kind of crazed circus rider,” Alister St. Christopher declared flatly. “Damn fool could have been killed. Then where would this family be?”
“Decidedly penniless,” Lucas returned without emotion.
“You stopped the carriage?” Emma asked, looking at the implacable features of the man in front of her.
“I removed the hijacker but couldn’t stop the carriage,” Lucas said quietly, recalling the fury at too many people in that moment of time before he was thrown from the rider’s box. “I was thrown free when it crashed off the side of the road and into the field.”
“Were you hurt? Are you bruised? You should have told the doctor when he was here,” Emma squeezed the fingers she held.
“I learned how to tumble and fall when I lived in the Orient for a few years, Emma, I am fine, thank you,” Lucas assured her with an unseen softness in his voice.
Emma laid her cheek against his shoulder and smiled.
“My hero,” she murmured, jumping the next instant when a low throat cleared behind her. “Oh, god…scare me, why don’t you. Make some noise beforehand…shuffle or something.”
“I am most sorry, Miss Carstairs,” but he hid the smile, meeting the eyes of his employer. “Should I inform cook about extra guests, my lord?”
“No,” Lucas answered instantly. “My father’s house is just down the lane and we did not invite them for dinner.”
“Very good, sir. Cook informs me dinner is ready when you are,” Harris enjoyed his position with Lucas St. Christopher, despite the odd manners of the man. He was fair, honest and didn’t possess the high and lofty attitudes of too many of the elite, despite his position.
“A few minutes, thank you, Harris,” Lucas had never taken his gaze from the two older men for long. He still had that niggling feeling at the back of his neck and that never ended well. “As you can see, we have plans for the evening. Since neither of you were pressed to investigate the accident, or Emma’s well-being before now, I can only assume you’ve had far more pressing matters on your minds.”
“Did they catch him?” Emma asked abruptly, frowning at the sudden look of evasion on their faces. “The man who stole the carriage,” she clarified when no one spoke. “Did they catch him?”
“He struck the ground and took off at a run. I lost sight of him, Emma. I was too concerned for you once the carriage careened off the road to go back and search,” Lucas had also seen the look on his father’s face. “Is there anything else, father? Mr. Carstairs?”
“You’re going to deny me time with my daughter?”
“I – am denying you time with your daughter,” Emma said without flinching at the curse he uttered. Mild by her standards, she thought, almost laughing. “A father who gambles his daughter away has no rights. I don’t expect to see you or spend time with you ever again, to be honest.”
“Careful, girl, I won’t tolerate your disrespect,” James Carstairs took a step closer, his fist clenched on the accessory cane he carried.
“Where is my mother? Did you gamble her away, too?”
Lucas doubted she was even aware of the light, quizzical sound to her voice, almost childlike.
James Carstairs’ free hand came out at the same time it was grasped by Alister and pulled back.
“We shall find another way,” Alister said quietly, his dark eyes piercing as they flit from Emma to Lucas. “Propriety says she should not be with you in this house until after the nuptials, boy.”
“And you know how much I care for propriety, father. Emma is safe here. I don’t gamble,” Lucas informed his father flatly. “Good day to you both,” he moved carefully, keeping himself between James Carstairs and Emma.
“Well, that was interesting,” Emma spun and walked off down the wide hall to the scents of food coming from the dining hall. Even as the sun was setting outside, it hadn’t cooled off any. She knew little about the climate of England, but guessed that a house by the ocean would be a little cooler with the off shore breeze. She sighed, pausing in the doorway and looking around at the dimly lit room.
Why couldn’t her memories be gone along with whatever life this Emma had endured through her years? Evidently depression wasn’t something that was left behind when some deity mucked about with your life.
“Emma?”
She jerked herself back with a sharp breath and looked up at him. Somehow she found a smile and pulled it into place.
“Yes, Lucas?”
“Where do you go off to? You look so sad…”
“Oh, no…maybe just tired, I think,” she shrugged it off and went to the chair she’d used that afternoon. “I’m not very hungry. Would you mind if I went to bed? I don’t want to be rude to you. You’ve been so nice, considering what our parents have thrust you into,” she gripped the high back of the chair but she couldn’t bring herself to look into his eyes.
“Of course, Emma. I should have given some thought to it being your first day up.” Lucas wasn’t sure what had happened. He watched her go with an odd emptiness inside him. He didn’t know where she had gone that had taken the effervescent woman from him. The strong, impish girl that had skipped through the house and slid down his banister had vanished.<
br />
He sat down, offering a vague nod at Harris. “Send Nancy up to see to anything Emma might need, Harris.”
“Yes, sir,” he went to give the instruction to the young woman, returning with the dinner plate for his young master. “She’s on her way now. Is there something I can be of help with?”
“I don’t know, Harris,” Lucas ate and knew it must have been good, but he barely tasted it, even when he realized the plate was empty.
He sat at the dining table for a long time, just staring.
This wasn’t normal. For the last two days he’d sat at her bedside hour after hour, watching her. Until she woke and believed she was in the middle of a dream, he’d never met her. Never seen her awake and animated. Once animated, though, something about Emma had taken a firm grasp on his insides the instant he looked into those wide, brown eyes.
“Harris…” Lucas continued toying with the goblet, turning it slowly in his fingers. He didn’t look away from the red wine inside the fine crystal. He didn’t have to look up to know Harris had answered his call.
“Sir.”
“You might want this task for yourself. In which case, assign one of your assistants to cover your duties while you’re away,” Lucas took in a long, slow breath, thinking over things the two unwanted men had spoken of on the stairs of his home. “I want information and begin at the Inn where my father and James Carstairs were staying. You might even see about a short term hire of Galen Greystorme. It is his profession, after all. I want you to speak to anyone who might have seen the thief who took Emma’s carriage and I want to know if he’s been seen since. I’d like to find him. I want to know anything anyone knows about my father and Carstairs. I find it a tad odd that my father wins his daughter in a card game, and suddenly they’re best of friends.”
“I don’t know James Carstairs,” Harris began slowly. “But I do know your father’s reputation at the card tables.”
“Which accounts for his financial troubles,” Lucas agreed with a nod. “Which brings another question to mind. Find where they were gaming and see what sort of gamer Carstairs is.”
“Intuition, sir?”
“Flat out suspicion, Harris,” he lifted the glass and drained the wine. “And make certain those on guard around the workshop and house, have been made aware and alert. I don’t like the sensation of my neck prickling and believe me, those two set it off like a fox from the hounds.”
“I’ll handle it first thing in the morning, sir,” Harris said with a nod. “And I’ll make certain Miss Carstairs is carefully and discretely watched.”
“I know you will, Harris,” Lucas said, lost in thought as he wandered out to his workshop.
Chapter Four
Emma almost ran from the dining hall and up the stairs, leaning against the bedroom door once she was inside. Safe.
She wouldn’t go through it again. Another life of being lonely and lying because she was frigid. It would not happen. She’d wanted nothing. Silence. Darkness. Nothing. And somehow she’d ended up virtually starting over.
The hell with that.
She had free will and she was choosing to not be involved; she was choosing not to ever, ever care about someone again.
She opened the buttons down her front and wrestled with the long dress until it lay across the bottom of the bed. Aggravation sent her sprawling across the surface, her face squished into the mattress and her scream of frustration and anger muffled.
She was glad it was warm and the crème colored things they called underwear weren’t too heavy and annoying. She groaned into the mattress when the tapping came on the door. Lifting her face she called out.
“Come in,” Emma rolled to her back and lay staring into the gauzy film above the huge bed.
“Miss? His lordship thought you might want help,” Nancy entered the room cautiously, frowning at the darkness.
“I can’t figure out how to turn the lights on,” Emma said with a resigned sigh. “Keep telling yourself it’s one really strange dream.”
“Oh, Miss, I can fix the lights for you,” Nancy told her with a little chuckle. “Are things so very different for you? Here, I mean, Miss.”
“Oh…you have no idea how very different.” Emma stared toward where the ceiling would be if the bed didn’t have a roof. Slowly lights began coming up around the room. “No TV…and that’s alright, I can manage just fine without TV. Got lots of books…and maybe I can find something of interest in book shops. So that’s not a total loss,” she groaned softly. “Music…no music…” she pushed her elbows behind her. The room was now ablaze with light. “How did you do that?”
“We have gaslights, Miss. Lord Lucas is very modern,” she said proudly, wiping her hands on her apron. “It’s quite warm, so I’ve left the windows and patio doors open for you.”
“It’s a beautiful view,” Emma nodded toward the window that faced the vast expanse of the ocean. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t snap, Miss. It can’t be easy leaving all you know,” Nancy walked closer to the bed as Emma sat upright with her legs crossed beneath her. “What else shall I help with?”
“A closet,” Emma said, glancing absently around the large room she’d been given.
“You mean…” Nancy hesitated. “The water closet, Miss?”
“The…the water closet is what I call a bathroom. Where I come from, a sink basin, toilet and bathtub are in the same room, hence, a bathroom,” Emma explained, hoping she found the right words.
“The tub is on the first floor,” Nancy nodded, excited to learn new things about foreign places. “Lord Lucas had the room added on and the water flows straight into the tub and then out again! It’s an amazing invention and much easier on the back,” she confided with a laugh.
“That’s good to know. I’ll need to find some soaps and stuff to wash my hair, I suppose. Maybe a visit to town…” She groaned softly, turning her attention to the trunks. “I need funds.” She snapped herself to attention. Time for being depressed is later. “A closet…a place for clothing,” she said, looking to Nancy in relief when her words seemed to find a place she understood.
“We have two bureaus,” she gestured to the tall chest of drawers and the low, long bureau. “And the wardrobe,” she walked to the tall, wide finely handcrafted piece of furniture and opened the doors.
“Yes. That’s what I meant. A place to hang things,” Emma gestured to the dress on the bed before climbing to her feet and striding to one of the large trunks with a tall, oval lid. She lifted the latches and was grateful when Nancy hurried to her side and together they opened the trunk, laying the heavy lid to the back. “You have very good English,” Emma said as she handed out dresses and laid them on the bed.
“My mother and father believe we should be able to express ourselves properly and I love reading. Mother would borrow books from the houses where she worked as head housekeeper,” Nancy told her proudly. “I can do your hair and massages, too, Miss. I worked for two years at the salon in Eastbourne before I changed to work for Lord Lucas.”
“Two years,” Emma looked at her with a little frown. She’d swear the girl wasn’t much over fifteen. “How old are you? If you don’t mind me asking and please, Nancy, if I do something wrong, please, please help me and tell me. I…I don’t want to embarrass Lucas. He’s been so nice and so patient with this mess.”
“I’ll be twenty-one in a few months,” she said proudly, shaking out the dresses and quickly fixing them on the hangers in the wardrobe.
“I don’t even know that…how old I am…”
“Twenty-four, Miss,” Nancy answered, flushing slightly when Emma looked at her. “I overheard them talking the day Lord Lucas was summoned. He was not very happy that day.”
“Maybe there are papers or something in here…” She continued laying out dresses and finally moved onto petticoats, camisoles and pantaloons. “I don’t care for those,” she tossed the flouncy petticoats to the side.
“I suppose,” Emma looked up from the pouch she found, laying it and some books on the bed. She found a box at the bottom with combs and brushes, letting Nancy take them and lay them out on the surface of the vanity. “So…have you a boyfriend? Someone special? I suppose I’m a bit on the old side for the whole deal. Lucas should have found a nice, agreeable girl by now.”
“Lord Lucas doesn’t really like all the…” Nancy stopped and considered her words.
“Honesty between us, please, Nancy. I need to learn and you should have the right to speak your mind,” Emma sighed and flopped back on the bed. “And I’ll try and mind my manners a bit in front of company.”
“He doesn’t care for gossip and what he calls garbage chatter,” a pair of bright green eyes peered at Emma with a smile. “I think the young, spoiled ones annoy him and try his patience.”
“He’s very smart.”
“And very handsome,” Nancy giggled at the sigh from Emma. “Will you truly marry him?”
“No, I will not. I am not ruining a man’s life because I have a jackass for a father,” Emma said firmly, rising and bending inside the trunk. She scooped the final items of underwear from inside and handed them to Nancy. Together they closed the trunk.
“I shall have it moved in the morning. We can store it in the attic,” Nancy said, closing the clasps and turning the mechanism to lock it.
“I kind of like it…” Emma moved to one side and pushed, shifting and maneuvering it to come to rest just in front of the window. She breathed deeply and stepped back, head swept her palms over the faint sheen of moisture on her face. “How’s that?”
Red Crystal Romance: #1 Emma Page 4