“Perhaps if you explained to me what you feel is impossible, I might be able to help with a logical explanation,” Lucas offered carefully.
“Oh, I don’t think…you’d put me in a home,” she murmured, her head shaking slowly. Hunger was quickly over-riding the impossibility of the entire day. She pushed a long breath between her lips and straightened her shoulders resolutely.
“I’m afraid I don’t grasp the context of your statement, Emma.”
“I don’t want you to believe I’m…unstable,” she selected her word carefully.
“Frightened, confused and perhaps extremely uninhibited,” Lucas chose his words with an offered smile at the flush of color to her cheeks. “But I’ve yet to view anything I’d consider as unstable, Emma.”
“Thank you…I think,” she sighed and studied her choices, the low rumbling in her stomach refusing to be held off any longer.
She looked at the platter of ham and forked a slice onto her plate, slicing off a nice piece of it and opening the crunchy roll. She slathered butter on the fluffy hot insides and added the ham before closing the roll and lifting it to take a hungry bite.
The ham was seasoned just right; the butter was sweet and she was so busy chewing her sandwich that she didn’t notice the stares from Nancy and Lucas. Not at first. She looked up from the bundle of taste in her fingers and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
She lowered the sandwich to the plate and lifted her napkin, brushing it over her face but found nothing there.
“Is something wrong?” She asked very slowly, following their stare at her plate. “It’s called a sandwich. I’m sure they have sandwiches here. Bread with meat and cheese and maybe tomatoes and lettuce and pickles and more bread,” her explanation came to a slow stop. “Aright…well…to each their own.”
“As long as you eat, I’m not concerned for the style or method in which it happens,” Lucas said simply, nudging his glasses up his nose with one finger.
Emma reached for slices of apples and oranges, added some grapes and sighed in contentment. She knew they tried not to stare. She looked around at the other containers, the things she couldn’t quite identify and was honestly afraid to ask. She worked to pull every possible thing she knew from her memories about the period and fell very, very short of knowledge.
Okay, she drew in a long, slow breath in between bites of her newly created sandwich. This time she had added a few eggs, some salt and pepper and a thick slice of ham. So, she really didn’t know anything, but she could go back to sleep and wake up normal.
Yeah. Sure. That was a possibility since you have no earthly idea how you got here, how can you even begin to figure out how to get back? And what was there to get back to?
The last thought made the color fade from her cheeks.
Lucas watched a strange sadness enter her eyes and wished she would speak; wished she would tell him what was in her thoughts.
“Speak to me, Emma, please,” Lucas started to reach for her and stopped himself. His intentions had been clear. He had intended to send her back to her father and break the arrangement his father had made. Only son or not, he did not want a woman in his life. Especially a woman who was forced into a union with him.
“I don’t belong here,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t even know who I am.” She forced a deep breath into her lungs and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. You’ve been a very patient man.”
“Do you believe I blame you for the actions of your father?” He asked softly.
“I don’t know him, either. Obviously, I don’t mean much to him,” Emma looked over at him, delicately picking at the cheese she placed on her plate and that had appeared on the table. She lifted her sandwich and continued eating. “Tell me what happened. Your father and mine, you said…in a card game.”
“They game in London,” Lucas looked into her eyes this time but saw nothing of the panic that had been there an hour earlier. Now he saw determination and strength. He wondered if she saw the same thing when she peered into a mirror. Did she see the innocence and impishness that toyed behind her lashes? Somehow he doubted that.
“Is he simply a bad card player or was your father his target?” She saw surprise enter his eyes and shrugged. “It seems a logical question. Is it normal that games of chance include people as if they were belongings or slaves to be given to the victor without their knowledge or consent or is it just females who have no worth?”
Lucas leaned back in his chair. The anger that surged through her radiated vividly and he would swear she was glowing with the fury inside her.
“I have heard of such wagers in the gaming hells across England and the Continent,” Lucas admitted slowly. He pushed a long breath between his teeth, following her casual example and lifting a slice of cheese to bite into. “I am not proud of the way males treat females in this world. Suffice it to say, I do not adhere to those behaviors.”
“Why did your father take the wager?”
Lucas laughed but it was far from amused.
“My father has never been one to explain his actions or decisions. I know that my choices, my decisions, have upset him,” Lucas said thoughtfully. “Or at least, that is what I’m given to believe. If he were interested even the slightest in whether or not I had a wife, it would only be to get his hands on the dowry that was offered.”
“Society makes dictates and some people rush to conform. Others make their own path and ignore those looking down their noses at them,” Emma pushed her plate back and sighed. “I think I seriously needed that meal.”
“Then we should continue our talk in the library,” Lucas stood up and extended his palm to her.
This wasn’t a good idea. Even as she slid her palm into his, he realized she was so much smaller as it slid into the warmth.
She didn’t belong here. The words echoed in her head as he drew her to her feet. She didn’t know the woman she saw reflected in the lenses of his glasses.
“What do you know about me?”
“I was in London,” Lucas began as they walked along the hall, her palm tucked around his arm. “Perhaps a walk outside? I think you’ll find the grass cool beneath your feet.”
“Will you answer questions if we go outside?”
“What transpired embarrasses me, Emma. And angers me.”
“Not speaking of it doesn’t make it so. I need to know. Please,” she said softly, pausing with him in front of two large open doors. “The library?” She asked, slipping her hand free of his arm and walking into the large open room. There was a narrow second level and the room was lined with shelves filled with books of all sizes and shapes. “This isn’t your father’s house, is it?”
“No,” he was surprised at her question, her observation.
“Tell me about what happened, Lucas,” Emma walked to a large leather chair and sat down, waiting patiently.
Lucas glanced toward the wide open patio doors. “I bought this house over six years ago and have slowly, carefully renovated it. Changed it. Improved it.”
“From what I’ve seen, you’ve done a very fine job,” she grinned at him, hoping to coax a smile from him. “I especially like the banister.”
“That we will discuss another time,” he said, trying for stern and losing to the impish grin on her face. “Would you wait until tomorrow, Emma? I think perhaps you’re attempting to flood too much information back into your mind.”
“Excuse me,” Nancy stood in the doorway, looking at Lucas. “My lord…the physician is here. As you requested.”
“Show him in, please, Nancy,” Lucas walked to the large desk at the far end of the room, pacing back slowly.
“I don’t need a doctor, Lucas. I’m fine,” Emma shrugged. “I don’t even have a headache. Although…” she winced and shifted, quickly pulling her expression to nothing again when Lucas looked alarmed. “It’s nothing. Really. Let’s just say I know not to slide down the banister again…without a great ma
ny pillows at the bottom of the stairs.”
She was teasing and laughing up until the point when Lucas had his hands on her shoulders and was lifting her to her toes.
“You will not slide down the banister again, Emaline Carstairs,” Lucas put his face close to hers, his breath warm over her cheek. “Do you understand me?”
Long lashes flew wide, her head bobbing quickly because she really didn’t think her voice was working right now.
Chapter Three
The deep voice of the doctor seemed to jolt Lucas back, his eyes rounding behind his lenses as he stared at his hands. Hands that were gripping her tightly enough to lift her slightly from the chair. He pulled them back as if they were on fire, staring from his open palms to Emma.
What was wrong with him? He’d never handled a woman that way before in his life!
“Emma, I am most sorry…”
“Lucas? I was told there was an emergency here,” a man in his late fifties strode confidently down the hall and straight into the library, looking around anxiously.
“Dr. Glasston…not an emergency, per se…I’m concerned about Emma,” Lucas shoved his palms behind him, clasping them after gesturing to the quietly watching brunette. “Emma Carstairs, Dr. Glasston.”
“What happened to you?” Dr. Glasston moved quickly to Emma, his hands out after he set the black bag on the floor.
“There was a carriage accident,” Lucas said from the side.
“These are a day or more old,” his fingers were light and cool, his gaze compelling Emma to remain still. “A carriage accident,” he murmured, his hands moving over the bruises on her face and then to her neck and shoulders. “Do you have a headache, my dear?”
“No, sir. I feel fine, actually,” she answered with a little smile when he looked down at her feet, bare toes peeking out from beneath her skirt.
“American? I had heard some stories in town,” Dr. Glasston said vaguely, his fingers moving over the sides and back of her head.
Emma jumped and winced.
“A little bump,” he murmured, his head shaking. “It would seem you escaped the accident lightly.”
“Not quite, Doctor,” Lucas looked at Emma, the frustration at his behavior troubling him. “Emma has no recollection of her past.”
“Nothing?” The older man stared at her curiously.
“Sorry,” Emma shrugged casually. “Not a thing. It’s probably for the best, really, though. From things Lucas has hinted at, I am better off not remembering people from my yesterday.”
She held still while the doctor tipped her head back and peered into her eyes.
“I’ve suggested to Emma that she might wait and let time return her memories,” Lucas said carefully. “I don’t want to overload her consciousness with information.”
“That’s a wise decision. When was the accident?” The doctor stood up and looked at Lucas.
“Two days past. On the road from London, just outside of Eastbourne,” Lucas answered precisely.
“And the stories about a gambling debt and a woman?” Dr. Glasston arched one grey brow.
“You know more what my father is capable of than anyone, Dr. Glasston,” Lucas said stiffly.
“I see.”
“I won’t be staying,” Emma announced to them both. “I don’t belong here and I’d never allow myself to be used in such a manner.”
“Interesting,” the doctor finally drawled after a lengthy pause. “Well, there is, sadly, nothing I can do to help. I can recommend you go slowly, Miss Carstairs. Physically as well as mentally,” he stepped back and lifted his bag, the lips beneath the grey moustache lifting. “But something tells me you’re a young lady with a mind of your own.”
“Thank you, doctor, that’s a wonderfully kind thing to say to a girl,” Emma extended her palm with a sturdy shake. “I really am alright. I think I…I was a little emotional for a bit…but it’s passed.”
“Having no memory is certainly worthy of a round of emotions. Should you develop a headache or have any other problems, please send someone to my home immediately,” he turned to Lucas and offered his palm. “Good day to you both. I’ve a few other rounds to make.”
“Thank you, Dr. Glasston,” Lucas walked with him from the library and into the hall.
“Given the emotions I’ve witnessed in my life from females, Lucas, consider yourself fortunate,” Dr. Glasston chuckled when they reached the porch. “And your father did truly win her in a wager?”
“Very little is kept secret in Eastbourne, doctor,” Lucas said with a sigh.
“There is little that escapes the notice of our village,” he agreed with a clap on the younger man’s shoulder. “Your father has been threatening to find you a wife since you turned thirty-two four months ago. As companions go, she seemed quite affable.”
“She keeps repeating that she doesn’t belong here,” Lucas said quietly. “When she…it was genuine fear and panic, Dr. Glasston. Not merely a case of the vapors.”
“Imagine waking with not even your name inside your mind, Lucas. Given your inventions and intelligence, I imagine that occurrence would send you into a panic, as well. I think patience and time are best for now,” he laid his bag inside his carriage. “And at the worst, she will learn to adjust and adapt and learn again.”
“Yes, of course,” Lucas nodded and stepped back. “Thank you.”
He stood silently watching the horse trot off to the road, the sounds of the late afternoon mixing with the distant roar of the ocean. A thick fog bank lie miles off shore and cast a stormy edge to the skyline.
“You really shouldn’t worry,” Emma came out behind him and plopped down on the edge of the three stairs, her legs stretched out before her. “I really am alright.”
“How can having no memory be alright, Emma?”
“Perhaps it’s how things should be. Whatever bad memories there are…aren’t now,” she said with a smile when he turned to look at her. She leaned back, her hands spread and face tipped to the sunshine. “It smells so nice after a little rain. Fresh and green. If a color can have a smell, it would be green.”
“You are an unusual woman, Emma Carstairs,” Lucas moved to sit beside her when the sounds and her sudden interest in something made him turn. The curse inside him broke free with a vehemence.
“Lucas? What’s wrong?” Emma straightened up and stared down the long drive that led from what must have been a main road to the house. “Who is it?”
“Unless I’m mistaken, it’s your father and mine,” he said flatly.
“Maybe we can run inside and lock the doors,” but she stood up and moved behind him. “Have you met him? My father.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t like him.”
Lucas chose to remain silent, watching the coach coming toward them. “I don’t care for my own father, let alone yours, Emma.”
“Why at thirty-two does he involve himself in your life? Adults have the right to make their own choices,” she said firmly, peeking around the side at the dry laugh and arched brows.
“You had no choice in your father’s actions.”
“I’m a female. We aren’t allotted choices,” she sighed. “Not much changes with time as far as females are concerned. You’re different.”
“Things will change, Emma,” he told her firmly. “If nothing else, around our corner of the world, things will be different.
She almost allowed herself to believe him, he sounded so adamant, so confident. But she knew differently. She knew the reality of it all. Emma sighed. She should be grateful. Another hundred years back and she’d be burned at the stake. Here, she’d merely be ostracized from polite society.
“What do you think they want?” She asked softly, uncertain why, but something made her move even closer to Lucas.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, her hands on his shoulders and her nearness making his body react, his cock lurched at the subtle scent of her. Her hair brushed his face when she leaned up to w
hisper in his ear, using his body to help her to her toes. He could feel the small, firm mounds of her breasts against his back and wondered when he’d begun to lose control of his faculties.
“I don’t want to go with him, Lucas,” she said softly, inhaling the lightest scent of something that was clearly Lucas. She wondered how they shaved in this time and wrinkled her nose at the thought of a straight razor.
“I won’t allow that to happen, Emma. Trust me,” he assured her. “My father is very good at social niceties veiled in threats.”
“Passive aggressive behavior,” she murmured with a nod. “So even when he’s saying nice things, he’s twisting the knife in my back, got it.”
“Apt description,” Lucas murmured, unconsciously moving to the side and completely shielding her when the carriage came to a stop. He waited patiently as the door opened and the two men inside disembarked. He wasn’t sure why, but the instant he saw the glaring features of them both, he wanted nothing more than to order Emma into her room and to remain until they departed. Whatever they were there for, he had a feeling it wasn’t a good thing. “Good afternoon, father. Mr. Carstairs.”
“We heard about the hijacking. Wretched thieves, these days.” Alister St. Christopher’s expression hadn’t changed, despite the words leaving his mouth. He stared at his son and Emma with complete dispassion. “It would appear you’ve rescued the girl.”
“So it would appear,” Lucas agreed very slowly. He knew his father better than anyone and what he knew now and for certain, something was most definitely off. “How did you happen to hear about the hijacking?”
“Stand up straight, girl,” James Carstairs tapped his cane on the steps in aggravation. This should not have occurred, he thought with a deepening of his scowl at the dark eyes studying him curiously. When she made no move and no sound, he stepped forward, only to have Lucas step in front of him, blocking his way. “Out of my way, boy.”
Red Crystal Romance: #1 Emma Page 3
