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He brushed her hair from her face and examined her with a husband s practiced eye.
Tears of happiness dribbled down her cheeks.  No, no. He wanted to. Said he would.
From the corner of her eye, she noted how three men tied up Benjamin Trayne the way he had
done to her.  Oh, Jack! How did you find me? She began to sob then.
He rocked her in his embrace.  A short story I will gladly tell you. Shall I recount it as we
go home?
****
Emma drank tea on the veranda outside her bedroom and watched the swallows dance in
the trees. Spring came to the north of England now that early April had arrived. The air seemed
fresh and gentle breezes wafted over her face as she took another sip.
She inhaled the fragrances of new grass and flower buds. Her body, thankfully, was
stronger, recovering from the bondage and confinement that the ogre Benjamin Trayne has
imposed upon her for nigh unto three days and four nights.
That nightmare had ended more than ten days ago and here, in her husband s home, she
had recovered much of her physical strength. But her heart was sore.
Though Jack had been loving and solicitous, demanding that they not ride home that
night but take a room in an inn close by and then hiring a coach the next day to drive her back to
Durham Manor, she was now alone. Jack, seeing to her comfort with his staff constantly
fluttering about her, had demanded she sleep in her own bedroom alone. Furthermore, he had
ordered her to remain in bed for at least two full days. She had balked and complained of his
orders, even secretly arising to stretch her limbs in joyous abandon and scurrying back to bed if he
poked his head in her door. Then, just as he had surprised her when he burst through Trayne s
cottage door in Stanley, he shocked her when he left her a note one morning.
 Gone to London, darling. Sorry, but I did not want to wake you before I left. And I must
go soon. Eat well and stay in bed! Love, J.
For what she now wanted from him, this had been a miserly, miserable note to receive.
She had not remained in bed. Indeed out of pique, she had taken to long walks in the
gardens. She no longer had Trayne to fear. The sheriff had seen to that man s incarceration for
abducting her. Jack told her, too, that Trayne would come before a judge soon to hear his case.
And as for her stepfather, Pinrose, whose note to Jack was as good as an admission of complicity
in her abduction, that man would face criminal charges in London as well.
Emma told herself she ought to be satisfied with those events. Still, she wanted more. She
wanted Jack.
And she worried, now that she had time and occasion, that her original offer to him was
now inadequate to the totality of all she did desire from him.
And how to tell him, how to ask for more when he remained in London?
She had asked Simmons if he knew why his master had gone.  His lordship does not
confide his personal issues with me, madam.
Emma contemplated her options. What was best to do now? With Jack away and only a
little more than a month gone since she first waylaid him in front of White s, she had two more
months time before she could return to speak to her solicitors and fulfill the terms of her father s
will. Gaining her inheritance and her freedom seemed like the best course of action, whether or
not her marriage lasted beyond that period. It was, after all, what she had originally sought. Best
to stick to her plan and accomplish what she could.
She rose now and putting her cup and saucer aside, knew she needed to exercise her mind
as well as her body.
Pulling on the coat that Jack had ordered for her, she buttoned up the frog closures and
descended the stairs and walked out the front door to the side garden. A maze of tall boxwoods,
dotted with stone benches and a few sculptures, the walk was one she delighted in for its
complexity. Not once in the past few days had she turned the same way or become bored. Often,
she had a devil of a time finding her way out. The mental challenge now, she told herself, would
steer away her mood.
But that was easier said than done. Finding a bench she had sat in a few days ago, she
praised its comfort, but sighed in sadness. She was lonely. For her husband.
And what if, Emma, he never returns?
A hand over her mouth, she told herself that was foolish to believe. He cared for her, did
he not? What man makes love to a woman the way he did and not care for her? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]