“I’m not a coward. I don’t know who I am or…or why I’ve been put here,” Emma said quietly, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. “It’s hurts to fail and failing you would truly…” her voice caught and quivered. “Yes, Lucas. Yes, I will marry you.”
Lucas brought his palms up and framed her face.
Emma felt her heart pounding in her chest and listened to the shouting inside her head demanding to know what was she doing.
“You won’t regret it, Emma,” Lucas assured her.
“It isn’t me I’m concerned about,” she lied, her smile forced as she stepped back and went to the bedroom door. “Nancy? Could you braid this for me and we can leave. Oh, I’ll have to get my list from the library. I think I left it on your desk.”
“And you won’t have sustenance before you shop?”
Emma crossed to the nightstand and lifted the glass of juice that had been brought for her. She watched his mouth twitch as she lifted the glass and drained the juice.
“Breakfast. I’m honestly not much of a morning eating person. Usually I’ll be hungry about noon,” she said with a smile, returning to sit on the vanity bench and hand Nancy the hairbrush.
“I’ll be in the library,” Lucas said as he moved to the door. “I’ll have Daniel ready and at the door for you both.”
Emma turned from the penetrating glance and stared into the mirror.
“Make it tight, Nancy so it stays in for the day, please. I’m not used to all this hair. I should have it cut off,” she said absently, barely noticing the shocked expression on the younger woman’s face. “It’s just hair, Nancy. It grows back.”
“Perhaps, Miss, you should discuss this with his lordship,” Nancy murmured as her fingers deftly wove the dark hair into a long braid. “Would you like it pinned up?”
Emma waved a palm at the reflection. “It’s fine down. Just tie it off and I’ll find my shoes and we can go. Wait in the carriage for me. I won’t be long,” Emma promised and went to her knees by the bed where she knew she’d kicked her shoes off. She sat back and worked them on, tying the waxed laces, only vaguely aware of Nancy leaving her alone.
Emma stared at the closed trunk.
She stood up and wandered down the hall to the staircase. So all you want is nothing and the universe has decided, oh, no, not for you, missy! Let’s throw you into the middle of another life and, oh, by the way, try and get this one right.
Emma was still pondering the whole new mess that was her life as she entered the library. She’d left her note paper on Lucas’ desk and found it waiting for her. Lucas was busy writing something but looked up when she entered the room.
“Just tell the shop keepers to place your items on my account, Emma,” he told her with a glance at the collection of items she’d listed on her note. “I take it those items are for some of the recipes in your books?”
“Personal things…I don’t know…I’m going to explore the shops and see what I can find,” Emma folded the note and looked for pockets on her dress. She shoved it inside and turned to leave. “Do you believe in reincarnation, Lucas?”
“Believe in it?” He repeated slowly.
“Grasp what it’s supposed to be,” she interpreted, pausing at the door and watching him. She had to smile. She could tell he was trying to come up with polite words to answer her. “It’s alright not to believe in it. It’s simply another form people use to explain what happens when you die. I just wondered if you were familiar with it is all.”
“I know what it portents to be, Emma, if that’s what you’re asking,” Lucas laid his pen down and studied her.
“I’ll see you later,” she lifted a hand and waved before walking toward the front doors. Evidently Harris hadn’t returned from his errands yet since she hadn’t seen him for two days. And the younger, far less than polite Daniel sat at the top of the open carriage, his foot hitched on the side and waiting to go.
Emma swung herself into the back and plopped down across from Nancy, noticing the two woven baskets.
“Are we shopping for Mrs. Nielson?”
“She’s asked me to pick up some things for her,” Nancy kept her gaze on Emma’s knees, refusing to look up.
“Where should I take you, Miss?” Daniel asked over his shoulder, casting appreciative and untoward glances at both women.
Emma frowned and looked at Nancy.
“To whatever street has the shops on it. Then you sit somewhere and we’ll find you when we’ve finished,” Emma told him firmly. She reached over and tugged until Nancy moved to sit beside her. “Is something wrong?” She whispered.
“Nothing, Miss,” Nancy answered instantly.
“That’s obviously a lie. Has he been rude to you?” Emma had felt the tension the instant she entered the carriage and almost wished they had one where he couldn’t hear or see them.
Nancy bit her lip and remained silent.
“We’ll talk when we’re alone,” Emma said simply, launching herself into a mindless travelogue as they rode down the quiet lane toward Eastbourne.
Emma leaned back and looked around as they entered the town. “I suppose how I got here isn’t nearly as important as what I do now that I’m here,” she decided aloud before reaching for one of the baskets. “Stop here, Daniel. When we’re finished, we’ll find you at this Inn.”
“Yes, Miss,” he answered with only the smallest hint of a sneer in his voice.
“I don’t like him,” Emma said when they were walking away from the carriage. “I don’t like him at all. Has he been bothering you, Nancy? And please be honest with me.”
“He believes he should have privileges, Miss,” Nancy said politely, reaching into the pocket on her apron and pulling out a list.
“I can guess what those privileges entail,” Emma said with a glance over her shoulder where the carriage was left. She’d seen Daniel enter the tavern portion of the Inn. She only hoped he was sober enough to get them home. “I’ll take care of it. He will not be sexually harassing my friend.”
Emma wondered if Nancy had a question about the words used, she kept them to herself as they walked. She heard the words inside her head about being in a whole new world and barely kept herself from giggling. It was too close to the surface where the hysteria was just waiting for a chance to escape.
With a resolute sigh, she began to take in the closely packed narrow buildings and the people slowly milling around the wakening town. Glancing at the wide collection of attire, she didn’t find it difficult to recognize the gentry from the workers, the shop owners and servants, like Nancy going around on errands. Emma smiled and looked down at her dress, amused that people might have a hard time sticking her into a slot.
Signs labeled each of the doorways. Some on thick wooden planks, others noted on the glass windows. She couldn’t tell if it was the proprietor or an employee who stood in some doorways, watching people pass.
Emma began to see a pattern, though and asked Nancy.
“There seem to be a lot of people out this morning,” Emma continued watching, realizing she had also become a bit of an attraction to the shop people and servants passing them on the walkway.
“It’s the season,” Nancy answered as if that explained it all.
“Summer by the sea,” Emma said with a little nod. “It’s a medicinal town,” she said mostly to herself as things began gelling in her mind. All the bath houses, the generous supply of apothecaries and the decidedly wealthy looking patrons being ferried about in ornate carriages.
“We get many people from London,” Nancy told her.
“I’m going in here,” Emma gestured to the large sign proclaiming it was the best apothecary in the town. But then, she laughed, all of them wanted to lay claim to the same thing. She pulled her list from her side pocket and read through it as she entered the shop.
Definitely needed more windows, she thought, looking up and smiling at the older man who approached her. He smiled, but it was aimed at Nancy behind her.
“Nancy…training a new maid for the manor?” He asked politely, his hands clasp before him.
“Oh, no, Mr. Hettinger! This is Miss Carstairs,” Nancy looked at Emma. “His lordship’s fiancé,” she added reverently.
Emma wasn’t sure how, but the man managed to stiffen up just a little bit more and she swore she heard his heels click together. But she didn’t want to embarrass herself by looking down at the floor so she offered up a bright smile.
“Hello, Mr. Herringer,” Emma offered her palm and shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you. Do you think you could help me with things on my list?” She handed him the paper and watched his gaze sweep from Nancy to her to the list in his hand.
“Of course, Miss Carstairs,” he said quickly. “Of course,” he hurried off, collecting things and setting them on the glass case.
Emma wandered around the shop, reading and adding things to the collection. It was like being in a new merchandise antique shop, a thought that made her giggle.
“I think that’s all I need for today,” Emma said with a smile that faded slightly when she saw how large the collection had grown. “Oh.”
“It can be delivered, Miss,” Nancy said quickly.
“I…delivered?” Emma breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. That’s wonderful.”
“I’ll apply these things to his lordship’s account and see they’re delivered before the end of the day, Miss Carstairs,” Mr. Hettinger assured her.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Hettinger.” Emma touched Nancy’s arm. “I’m going exploring,” she said with the glee of a child.
“Oh, Miss, please…I’ll be right out,” Nancy promised.
“I’m all right, Nancy, don’t worry,” Emma promised and stepped back into the August sunshine. Her nose twitched. Then her stomach let loose with a growl.
Emma crossed the street, the clatter of hooves and wagon wheels over the cobble stones making her smile. She followed her nose and the small gathering of people around the large cart where the delicious smells were coming from. She noted the difference in clothing between the people waiting to purchase something as opposed to others in carriages passing them.
Emma guessed that the dresses in her trunks were more Americanized than the clothing she saw on the women stepping from carriages and striding straight into salons and bath houses. She never understood the bustle thing and vowed there wouldn’t be one resting on her behind any time soon. Her head shook at the thought that men probably did the designing and what the heck had been the purpose of the thing?
“Miss? Can I help ye?”
Emma blinked back to the present and scrambled for the small purse she’d found in her collection of things. She separated the opening and pulled out one of the coins, letting it clank on the metal of the cart.
“One of those, please,” she asked, pointing to a pastry covered something that everyone seemed to be devouring.
“Miss!”
Emma turned briefly, waved at Nancy and turned back to the woman who was holding a newsprint wrapped palm sized meat pie for her. Along with a ton of coins. She opened her purse and let the coins drop inside. She pulled the strings tight, shoved the little bag into her pocket and hungrily took the paper wrapped pie.
“Do you want one, Nancy? I’ve lots of coins,” Emma offered with a smile. She walked to the bench and sat down on the edge, fingers plucking at the warm, flaky crust. She popped a large piece into her mouth and reached into her pocket. She fumbled with one hand on the little purse and handed Nancy some coins. “They’re delicious,” she breathed with a grin at Nancy.
“Mrs. Green makes the best pasties,” Nancy admitted.
Emma saw her hesitation and pushed the coins at her. “Please. Join me. My treat.”
“Thank you, Miss,” she took the coins and went to wait her turn in the line.
Emma listened to the chatter as she ate.
“Friend of yours, Nan?” A deep voice asked.
“His lordship’s fiancé,” Nancy answered politely.
“The young Earl’s takin’ a bride?”
Emma heard the distinct murmur of surprise from more than one of the people hovering around the cart, munching on the pies. She choked on a bite of tender potatoes and carrots.
“Nancy!” Emma hissed, meeting the gaze of the other woman. “Lucas is an Earl?”
“Yes, Miss,” Nancy moved forward in the line and paid money for her choice.
“An American? Marryin’ the Earl?”
Emma sighed and took another bite of her pie, chewing thoughtfully.
“Yes, I am an American,” she gazed around at the people suddenly paying attention. “I’m pretty sure it’s not my fault, though. No one asked where I’d prefer to be born,” she said with a smile when her comment received a few chuckles.
“Don’t seem like high-brow society,” remarked a man looking her over.
“Heard he won you,” chirped a young voice.
“Or my idiot father lost me,” Emma shrugged. “I’m sure it’s not much of a secret. Yes, I have an idiot for a father,” she sighed dramatically. “I’m also sure some of you can say the same thing. But again, I wasn’t asked what I wanted. Perhaps I should take out a few lines in the local newsprint so people don’t have to speculate on how I came to be engaged to Lucas.”
Emma decided it was definitely interesting watching the variety of people trying not to stare at her. At least the servants and shop keepers had the nerve to look her in the eye. The well-dressed, upper-class people, mostly women, she noticed, hastily looked away when she caught them watching her. And the men, stared outright without a single hesitation.
She sighed, finished off the pie and dusted her fingers against the skirt of her dress. Emma smiled at Nancy and stood up.
“I’m going to the book shop,” she gestured down the walk to the sign. “You can find me when you’ve finished. Don’t rush…it’s a gorgeous day out.”
But Emma was distracted as she passed a very fancy shop with velvet curtains and lace that spelled out lingerie. A whole new world, her mind chimed as she stepped into the large open space. The walls were lined with shelves that were filled with labeled boxes and delicate looking samples on display.
She read the labels and decided she definitely liked her type of undies.
She wanted to touch the fabric but didn’t want the hawkish woman striding toward her to be upset. Well, more upset than she already appeared. Slips of all lengths with various types of laces around the bottoms. Chemise. An under-dress that went from simple and plain to ornate. Emma decided she liked the ornate ones with bits of lace. Hmm…not pantaloons, she thought, reading the label calling her underwear drawers, with cotton strings to tie and hold them in place and split underneaths. Emma considered the possible reasons and couldn’t stop the giggle. Then there were the corsets.
“Is there something I can assist you with, miss?” Doubt dripped from her words. “Are you shopping for your mistress?”
“Mistress? No…no mistress. But you can probably help me,” Emma answered vaguely, returning to the chemise section and gesturing to two that she really liked. “One of each of those. And some of these,” she moved to the drawers and picked out the shortest ones. She was a natural girl of comfort and these were thick enough not to be see-through.
She wandered to the next collection of displays and touched the thin shoulder straps of the camisole. “I think a couple of these, too, please. This one…” she moved to another with short cap sleeves and gorgeous fine lace down the front. “And this one. You do have them in my size?”
“Miss…”
“Carstairs,” Emma offered her palm. “Emma Carstairs.” She shook the woman’s hand and reached into her pocket for the small purse she’d placed the coins in. “I have money,” she reached inside and brought out a handful of coins.
“Miss!” Nancy burst through the door. Her gaze briefly swept the inside before landing on Emma.
“Just buying a few things,” Emma told her with a grin. “Want something? I’m buying.”
“Oh. No. Thank you, Miss.”
Emma saw the strong tint of red on her cheeks. “It’s okay, Nancy. Just some girl things.”
“Yes, miss.”
“I don’t suppose Lucas has an account in this shop?”
“You are a resident of Eastbourne?” The woman asked.
“I am now,” Emma sighed.
“She is engaged to Adrian Lucas St. Christopher,” Nancy provided helpfully.
“That’s his full name?” Emma arched both brows. “Impressive. You British really get involved in these titles. No offense,” she added quickly.
“I can easily set up an account for you,” the woman said quickly and returned to her desk for a note pad and pencil. The young Earl always paid his accounts in a timely manner.
“Thank you. That does make it easier,” Emma sighed, the woman’s words echoing inside her mind. A resident of Eastbourne.
“Shall I have these items delivered?”
“Oh, no, I can take them with me, thank you,” Emma moved to the door and stood staring out into what was her new home. Her new now. Even as she watched the bustles, the carriages, the horses and the various other people she considered part of history, she heard the word impossible. Six impossible things. She forced her eyes closed and shook her head. Rambling is never a good thing when it verges on hysteria.
“I’ll be outside,” Emma announced quickly, and stepped into the midday sunshine. She leaned against the brick and wooden structure and pulled deep drafts of air into her lungs.
She knew she was playing games with herself. She’d close her eyes over and over, count and open them expecting the normal world she knew would reappear. But it never did.
“Are you ill, Miss?” Nancy came out quickly behind her, carrying a small paper package. “We should return to the house.”
“That would be best,” Emma agreed, pushing herself upright and walking down the walkway they had come up. She decided to ignore the people staring and whispering. It was either ignore them or end up in too many arguments to count.
“I can fetch the carriage, Miss,” Nancy hurried after her.
“No. A walk will be good for me,” Emma answered, forcing herself to smile.
“Perhaps it was too soon after the accident,” Nancy said as they walked.
“Perhaps,” Emma said absently, gazing out toward the beach as they passed the last of the shops. “Did you complete your errands? I can sit here and wait for you, Nancy.”
“All finished, Miss,” she said cheerfully. “They will deliver everything before the day is out.”
“That’s a nice thing.”
“Most of the shop keepers owe his lordship for helping keep the buildings in good repair.”
“Owe him?”
“Yes, miss, his lordship owns some of the buildings. I think he uses them to test his machines,” she confided with a little laugh.
“He certainly has a very busy workshop,” Emma commented idly, recognizing their carriage and frowning. “Where would Daniel go?”
“The tavern,” Nancy suggested.
“Can you navigate this thing?”
“I…yes, Miss…”
“Then we’re going home,” Emma climbed up into the carriage seat and waited while Nancy handed her the packages she carried. “We’ll just go slow.”
“If you’re sure, miss,” Nancy climbed into the carriage and carefully started the horses trotting along the beach road. “He’ll be angry.”
“He won’t be working in the house after today, so I don’t care,” Emma said simply. “I don’t like being ogled like I’m a pork chop in the butcher shop window. And I don’t care for any man who makes unwanted advances.”
Emma leaned back against the seat and just stared.
“Why hasn’t Lucas found a wife?”
“Excuse me, miss?”
“You work for him. I know you listen and learn,” Emma said. “Tell me what you know about Lucas.”
“He…he works very hard in his shop.”
“How long have you worked there?” Emma sighed.
“My father has been his lordships’ assistant for over five years. I’ve always come and gone, taking him meals and watching,” Nancy said thoughtfully.
“Did he attend social gatherings? Did mothers introduce him to their daughters?” Emma pressed.
“I don’t know, miss.”
“It’s okay. I don’t suppose it really matters,” Emma gripped the side of the carriage as they approached the house. “You’re very good with the horses.”
“Thank you,” Nancy straightened slightly and met the smile Emma offered.
“I can take these to my room with me,” Emma told her, lifting the paper tied with a string and hopping down from the carriage. “When the stuff I bought is delivered, just put it into the library for me, please.”
“Yes, miss.”