Emma stared at the back of the head of the man now guiding the horses toward town. He was big. No doubt about that. And bald as possible. She almost embarrassed herself by leaning forward to see if she could actually see herself in the back of his head. But she restrained herself and just stared.
The good news was Nancy seemed relaxed and at ease when he brought the carriage around and opened the low door for them. He helped them both inside, latched the door and swung into the high seat as if it were street level. He didn’t talk much, she noticed as he led the horse through town to a more reputable area for them to be left. She almost called it a parking lot and laughed to herself, offering a smile when Nancy looked at her oddly.
“Please wait for me to secure the horses, miss,” Brock’s voice was rough and low, his eyes scanning the area around them when he handed them from the carriage to the street.
Emma nodded and looped her arm with Nancy’s. “The book shop should be last,” she said as they walked down the narrow walkway that ran outside the collection of shops. “Take me to a mercantile shop…I need towels and some containers. Jars, I hope with tight lids. Some wooden spoons, I think…and a few other things.”
Emma wandered with Nancy at her side and Brock behind them and she took in all the fancy dresses, bonnets and parasols. It fascinated her that the women looked at her only until she met their eyes. The men were much for forward in their appraisal and allowing their gaze to sweep her from head to toe.
They stepped from inside a large shop that Emma labeled the almost everything shop, laughing and carrying nothing. “I love delivery. It’s so convenient.”
“Miss, you’re one of their better customers,” Nancy teased.
“Oh, wait…this shop.” Emma did a swift turn, ignoring the frown on Brock’s face.
“Miss, this is not for ladies.” Nancy tried pulling on her arm but found herself lagging behind when Emma continued into the large open shop.
“Can I ‘elp you, miss?”
Emma met the surprised gaze of a man easily over fifty and wiping his hands on a once white apron. He was big. All over as she settled on a sun wizened face with a pair of round glasses on the bridge of his nose and a thick moustache that made her think of a walrus.
“I’d like a haircut, please.” She looked around at a variety of drawings and sketches hanging around the walls. She walked up to one and tapped it smartly. “This one.”
Emma saw Brock raise one hand and rub the back of his neck.
“Excuse me, miss?” The walrus asked.
Emma sighed. “I would appreciate if you would give me that haircut, please,” she reached into the small purse she had draped around her neck and dropped a gold coin on the counter. She extended her palm. “Emma Carstairs.”
“Henry Fitzhugh,” the older man answered with his palm warmly in hers. “American?”
“Yes, sir.” Emma reached back and pulled the ribbon from her braid before moving to sit in the large black chair. She scooted her behind back and sat up straight.
“Ain’t never worked on a woman before.” He rubbed the flat of his palm over a hint of whiskers.
“C’mon, Fitz, the gal wants a cut,” laughed a deep voice from the back room, his body half bent as he hobbled into the area with a cane. “Mornin’, miss.”
“Good morning,” Emma smiled at him. He was the complete opposite of his friend, tall and lean with neatly clipped short grey hair.
“Tommy Franks, miss.”
Emma shook the hand he offered. “Emma Carstairs.”
“I really don’t think this is a good idea, miss.” Nancy looked at her hopefully.
“This won’t take long. Let me make it easy for you.” She reached to the counter and lifted scissors. Before the man could react, she sliced off the braid at shoulder level. Her voice was softly dramatic. “Please, sir! I had a horrible accident with a pair of scissors. Please help me with a proper haircut.”
Emma placed the back of her hand against her forehead for effect and only giggled when Mr. Franks let out with a long barking laugh.
“Miss Emma!” Nancy had both hands on her face, her eyes wide in shock.
Emma heard Brock groan and watched Henry fight a smile when he lifted a heavy white drape and shook it out before wrapping her in it.
“That one,” he said gruffly, pointing to the drawing she’d indicated and his tone still filled with disbelief. But she offered him a pound coin! For a haircut.
“Please. It’ll be alright, I promise you. This is my hair and I make the decisions on what’s to be done with it and in this heat, I want it gone! I’m quite cute once all the hair is gone,” Emma smiled at him, gazing into the large oval mirror in front of her. She straightened her shoulders and held very still while the scissors snipped.
“You’re certainly a gal who knows her mind,” Tommy Franks chuckled, sinking his lanky frame into a chair and leaning on the cane to watch.
Emma closed her eyes and let him work for several minutes before looking into the mirror and grinning broadly. He was very good, she thought when he took a step back after twenty minutes. She raised both hands and let the much shorter strands sift through her fingers. They fell neatly into place, her fingers side parting and raking the hair to the side.
“Mr. Fitzhugh, it’s gorgeous!” Emma turned from side to side with a bright grin at the man appraising her. He carefully removed the drape and shook it out, his palm out to help her to the floor. “You are a true artist! I love it!”
“You look like a child,” Henry Fitzhugh shook his head in amazement.
“I feel ten pounds lighter!” Emma laughed gleefully, twirling around once and dropping into a low curtsey before them both.
“Oh dear, what will his lordship say,” Nancy murmured.
“His lordship?” Henry suddenly looked uncomfortable.
“Lucas will love it,” Emma promised. She beamed a smile at them. “Time for the book shop, Nancy. Thank you again, Mr. Fitzhugh. I’ll see you in a few months for a trim.”
Emma gave a jaunty little wave and patted Brock on the arm.
“You do look very young, miss,” Nancy told her.
“Thank you. I like it. I’ve always worn it this way when I could,” she said, aware of the attention they were drawing. If it had been subtle before, now it was palpable and people weren’t even bothering to pretend not to be staring. “I really don’t like all the time it takes for all those curls and weaving things with long hair. This is light and breezy and fun. Are they staring just because of the hair?” She whispered at the end, their arms once more looped together.
“I believe word has gotten around about the Earl’s fiancé,” Brock supplied from behind them.
“And you are an American and…well…” Nancy winced at the expectant look from Emma. She kept her voice low. “You don’t dress like them, miss.”
Emma seemed to consider this, nodded and shrugged. “Very true. I have a very strong aversion to making my behind look bigger than it already is.”
Nancy giggled. “It’s not at all big, miss.”
“Thanks for the vote,” Emma said with her own giggle. She spotted the book shop and headed straight for it until another shop caught her attention. “For swimming? Seriously? You’d drown in that outfit.” She stood in front of the shop window and stared. “It’s nothing more than my camisole and drawers. Really…maybe the fabric is thicker. They aren’t very attractive.”
“Men aren’t meant to see them, miss,” Nancy hissed, her embarrassment evident in the color in her cheeks and lowered eyes.
“Men and women don’t swim together?” Emma looked from Nancy to Brock, waiting patiently but the looks on their faces told her the answer. “That’s crazy. With those outfits, a girl could easily drown if she gets caught in a wave wrong. How amazingly archaic.”
“Miss Carstairs?”
All three heads swiveled to face the gentleman speaking to her. Emma looked up into a pair of dark eyes that appeared really young to her.
“I’m Emma Carstairs,” she lifted her palm to him. “Do I know you?” Of course, she already knew the answer to that, or hoped she did, but smiled and waited.
“No, Miss Carstairs. Jeremy Palmer.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Palmer. I’m off to the book shop,” Emma told him, silently comparing him to Lucas and sighing. No comparison. “And the people you were with look impatient that you’re here,” she said with a lowered voice.
“They’re my sisters, and they always tend to look that way,” he said without a backward glance at the young women waiting by the carriage for him. “I’d like to invite you to a ball at our family home. I had meant to send the invitation to your home, but neglected to receive approval until this morning.”
Emma laughed. “You don’t know me. Why in the world would you invite me to your home?”
“My family is acquainted with the Earl and has been for generations.”
“Are you speaking of Lucas or his father?”
“The elder earl, Miss Carstairs,” he answered patiently.
“You don’t know Lucas?” Emma noticed the increased interest as people slowed to watch and listen boldly.
“We’re not personally acquainted,” Jeremy Palmer shifted with the first hints of discomfort at her questions.
“I can give this to Lucas,” Emma said with a smile, taking the envelope he held in one hand. “Thank you. Excuse me, must get back to shopping. Have a nice day.” She watched him nod and stride back to his companions. “That was most odd.”
“You’ve become an original, miss,” Nancy whispered, their heads close together as they wandered down the walkway.
“An original,” Emma repeated. “I remember that word from somewhere.” She looked to the side at Brock who was trying to remain inconspicuous. “Please, what am I missing?”
“They consider you eccentric, miss,” Nancy finally said when they paused outside the book seller.
“Ahh…so they want me around because I could be entertaining,” Emma laughed and shook her head. “I’m not good at that sort of social thing. I tend to make people angry with honesty.”
“I’ll wait here, Miss Carstairs,” Brock managed to control his smile.
Lucas came down the street and immediately recognized Nancy and Brock at the book seller’s shop. And the dress on the woman with them was very familiar. When he realized the owner of the swanlike throat with bruises, his feet came to a hard stop in the middle of the walkway and he stared.
The long braid she wore was gone. Unlike most every other woman around them, she wore no bonnet and the sunlight sparkled off hints of the deepest red in her hair. Hair that was sculpted and side parted like a man’s. It made her throat appear long and slender; her face a soft oval and her cheek bones etched and delicate looking. But it was her eyes that captivated him still. Only now without the framework of long, dark hair, they appeared even more huge, with shadowy feathers of her lashes dusting her cheeks when she smiled.
And she offered a bright smile when she saw him.
He watched her end the conversation and slip between Nancy and Brock, her feet a hurried little run until she burst into his arms when they opened quite naturally for her.
“This is a wonderful surprise!” Emma breathed against his throat.
Lucas wrapped his arms around her and felt the amazing glow of warmth streaking through him. Reluctantly he eased his hands to her waist and lifted her back to the ground, his hand up and finger tapping off her nose.
“And this is a delightful surprise,” his fingers brushed the short dark strands of hair above her ear. “I can easily picture you sitting on a toadstool with fluttering gossamer wings behind you, Emma. It’s beautiful and suits you,” he said honestly, the bright light in her eyes sending his ego bursting with delight at her reaction to his words.
“Thank you, Lucas. I’m more accustomed to wearing my hair this way, especially in the summer,” Emma looped her arm with his and hugged him close. “I thought you had work to do?”
“I finished early and decided as a reward, I should be with you,” he told her with a smile. “I will send Brock and Nancy to the house. I brought the smaller carriage and we can explore to your heart’s content this afternoon.”
“I would really like that,” Emma tipped her head against his shoulder. “People have been staring. I don’t want to embarrass you, Lucas. Nancy says it’s because people consider me an original…which I believe means they find me amusing.”
“I find you delightfully amusing, my sweet,” Lucas assured her, patting her hands lightly. He met Brock’s gaze and tipped his head slightly. “Thank you, Brock. You may return to the manor now with Nancy. Be certain to check with the others on the grounds for me, would you?”
“Certainly, sir.” Brock nodded once and gestured for Nancy to come with him.
“Thank you, Brock, Nancy.” Lucas was about to speak to Emma when another voice intruded.
“St. Christopher?”
Lucas turned at the familiar voice. “Howell? Good lord, it’s been years since University.” He accepted the palm that had been thrust toward him.
“A great big world out there to explore,” deep grey eyes appraised first his friend and then his partner. “Silas Howell,” he said softly, tipping the hat on his head as he allowed his gaze to appreciate the woman on Lucas’ arm.
“Emma Carstairs,” she responded with a smile.
“Silas and I spent many tedious hours absorbing the laws of engineering, chemistry and some physics,” Lucas told her. “What brings you to Eastbourne?”
“Escorting my mother and sister to spend the remaining bits of summer at seaside,” he responded. “You know Marissa asks about you. I had intended to hunt you down but was told you no longer reside at the estate.”
“You know my father, Silas,” Lucas said simply.
“I am going into the bookshop,” Emma announced in the lull. “You stay and talk to your friend. I think you have things to catch up on,” she said with a smile, going to her toes and kissing Lucas on the cheek. “It’s perfectly safe in the shop.”
“Take your time, Emma,” Lucas nodded and released her fingers.
“American,” Silas remarked, his gaze following the brunette into the shop. “Unusual.”
“My father wagered with hers and won,” Lucas said after a long pause, stepping to the side and nodding at an older passing couple.
Silas raised an eyebrow. “A gambling debt?”
“My fiancé,” Lucas corrected simply, appraising the man standing at his side. Black hair and deep eyes that seemed to attract a share of women like flies, they’d been opposites as they traveled, learned and grew up together.
Silas lifted the corner of his mouth in approval. “You always did favor the unusual.”
Lucas laughed. “Emma is beyond anything our imaginations could create.”
“Would you accept an invitation to dine with us? I know how fond you were of social gatherings.”
“Your humor is still above the pale, Silas,” Lucas chuckled. “But I believe with Emma at my side, I could even suffer a dinner with boring, status grabbing individuals that make my teeth ache.”
Silas laughed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I’ll have the invitation sent round this afternoon when I return home.”
“Have you acquired the veterinarian degree?”
“I’ve actually set up practice just outside Eastbourne, along the coast to the west,” he gazed around at the passing women traveling generally in pairs as they eyed the bachelors. “I’m relocating my mother and sister to the area for the winter.”
“And your father?”
“Took a fall from a horse a year ago,” Silas shrugged absently. “I’ve bought a large estate adjacent to the practice. I’ll be working on establishing some hardy breeds of cattle, horses and sheep in the area. Part of the breed improvement I used to chase when we were in University. I’ve a shipment of mixed animals arriving from America, as a matter of fact. Part of what will become my seed stock, if you will.”
“I’ll have to come inspect. I can easily help you with laying out proper sewage and drainage,” Lucas nodded to himself. “As well as some modernization of the internal plumbing in the house and out buildings. I’m designing an interesting room for a walk in bathing shower for Emma.”
“You know, it’s conversations like this that revive my brain, Lucas. Lord, I miss them. I’ve listened to my father and mother harping for the last few years about attending the bloody events to find a suitable brood mare,” Silas joined with Lucas in his laughter. “And listening to the simpering talk about nothing topics has driven me to the brink of madness. I’ve taken to spending hours in libraries and lecture halls until this past month. I believe I’ve concocted every imaginable excuse to avoid the social whirl.”
“It has to be invigorating to establish a practice,” Lucas smiled at the young girls walking past them. “They seem to be getting younger every damn year.”
“I have workmen at the house, cleaning and doing repairs. I have an amazing amount of supplies and furniture being brought down from London,” Silas told him, following his gaze into the shop window and then at the pocket watch he slipped from his vest. “I have females to retrieve from the medicinal spa over on Abrams Street. I’ll send that invitation around tomorrow. I’m glad we met up again, Lucas.”
“Equally, Silas. Rest easy, we’ll find brains to keep us stable,” Lucas promised with a chuckle, watching his friend stride off down the lane. It didn’t surprise him that many people stared at them. He could almost hear the whispering of anxious mama’s trying to find an established, prosperous husband for their daughters.
“Lucas?” Emma stood in front of him with a paper bound collection of books in her arms.
“I’m sorry. I was…” He shook his head. “Off somewhere.”
“People have been staring,” she noted, sliding easily beside him when his hand settled on her waist. “I liked your friend but I think he’s lonely.”
“I rarely notice the staring,” Lucas told her with a shrug, guiding her along the lane to some of the more expensive shops. “I have a stop to make and I need your help.”
“Me?”
“Perhaps the proper word is co-operation,” he amended with a tip of his head at the puzzled expression on her face.
“Where are we going, Lucas? I bought what I needed to make some bath salts and…” Emma’s voice trailed off when the tinkling bell above the door she was going through alerted the proprietor inside that he had company. That’s when she looked around. “Oh…”
Lucas laughed softly at the almost non-existent sound of her voice. “I want you to select a ring, Emma.”
“Lucas…I don’t need a fancy ring.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Franklin,” Lucas greeted the tall thin man with white hair who came from the back of the store. “We’d like to view your engagement rings, if you’d be so kind.”
“Of course, sir,” his hand lifted a set of keys from inside his pocket.
“No. Please. Wedding bands,” Emma said quickly, looking up at Lucas. “That’s what I would like, Lucas. Please.”
“Your fiancé seems to have a mind of her own,” Mr. Franklin said with a patient smile.
“Then wedding bands it is, please,” Lucas carried her hand to his lips.
“So this was your plan all along,” Emma teased, her head shaking.
“Why does a man need to plot to buy his fiancé a gift?”
“Oh, please, don’t pretend that hurt look,” Emma laughed, the sound abruptly ending when the man lifted a piece of black velvet from a tray he had set on the glass counter top.
Lucas watched her as the man moved a lamp closer to the collection lying on the soft fabric. Her fingers hovered only a moment before lifting a hand about one and quarter centimeters wide. On each end, the front was lined in tiny diamonds. A basket weave effect connected the two diamond bands with larger stones in the center of each small weave. But what drew your attention, he thought, was the unique rose color of the gold.
“This one,” Emma lifted it, her fingers shaking slightly when Lucas took the band from her. She held as still as possible when he took her hand and slid it onto her finger.
“Not quite the correct size,” Mr. Franklin lifted her hand and appraised the difference. “Allow me to check my vault. Shall I bring a tray of bands for men?”
“Please,” Lucas responded, removing the ring and laying it on the velvet cloth. “It’s perfect for you. I like it. Now we shall select one for me and we’ve finished our first purchase as a couple.”
“Are you teasing me?” Emma swallowed and looked up at him.
“I’m not sure I knew how to tease until I met you.” Lucas ignored all the proper behavior he’d ever learned, framed her face with his hands and kissed her softly. The fingers of one hand drifted along the side of her face, spearing into the soft, short strands of hair.
They parted reluctantly when the sounds of footsteps broke into their private world.
“I took a guess at your size, sir,” Mr. Franklin lifted the cloth and nodded to himself at the selection he’d brought for them to examine.
“Chose one for me, Emma,” Lucas told her softly, following her gaze to the tray of rings lying spread before them.
Her hand never moved until she saw the one she liked, lifting the two tone ring from the tray and holding her other palm out for Lucas’s hand. She slipped it into place and admired it.
“That one. It has both elements of gold and silver and it suits you nicely,” Emma said with a nod.
“Might I ask when the wedding is to be?”
“Soon,” was all Lucas offered, his hand out and fingers flexing. “It’s a good fit. You have a very precise eye, Mr. Franklin. We’ll take them both, please. If you’ll quote me the full price, I’ll have a cheque brought to you as soon as I return home.”
“I have money,” Emma said with a happy smile, opening her little bag and lifting a handful of gold coins out.
“Emma? You’ve been carrying that around town with you?” Lucas stared, stunned.
“I was shopping.”
“You could have bought most of the town with that,” he chided, his head shaking.
“Is it enough for the rings?” She held up her hand to Mr. Franklin, smiling when he took two of the gold coins. “There. See? Our second decision as a couple.”
Lucas could offer nothing but a laugh as she tucked away the coins once more.
“A small box will do nicely, Mr. Franklin. Thank you,” Lucas told him, still staring at Emma. “Would you do me a favor, please, Emma. Don’t carry that money with you. The merchants will apply your purchases to an account and deliver me an invoice for payment.”
“I suppose it was a little careless,” Emma admitted slowly. “I’m just not sure what it’s worth and I wanted to pay for my own things.”
“Then I shall present you with the invoice and you can make the payment when the time comes,” Lucas answered, knowing full well he’d manage to care for her, including her purchases.
“I suppose I feel safe here and I know it’s the same as anywhere,” Emma reluctantly handed the little bag to him and watched him slide it into a jacket pocket.
Lucas took the box from Mr. Franklin and slid it into an inside pocket of his jacket before shaking the man’s hand. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Franklin.”
“Yes, thank you so much,” Emma smiled at him, her gaze drifting around the other glass cases as she wandered around the wide space. “You have some beautiful baubles here.”
“And what do you consider beautiful baubles?” Lucas asked curiously.
“I…oh, no,” Emma met his gaze. “I don’t even have my ears pierced.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Would you want them pierced?”
“Yes…for at least a nice pair for gold hoops or a pretty stone. Just one in each ear. I have friends with a dozen…that’s far too many for me,” Emma confided, smiling at her memory. She turned to him and held out her palm, her other arm wrapped around her books. “Shall we go? Have a great day, Mr. Franklin! And whoever made that ring, tell them it’s gorgeous!”
“Yes, miss, thank you, sir,” Mr. Franklin’s head bobbed happily.
Lucas followed behind Emma, thinking how very different she looked from all the other women around and how glad he was for it. Although he did almost laugh at the expressions that would pass over people’s faces. He watched her interact, the smile on her face when she talked to a young constable handing out flyers and the children playing outside the sweet shop where she dug into her pocket for coins and handed them to them.