CHAPTER 12

Later that afternoon, Emma walked down the corridor of the children’s hospital beside Will, who pushed Marianne in the wheelchair. This was definitely not how she envisioned spending her first day on the job.

The strong scent of lye soap and antiseptic hung in the air, burning Emma’s nostrils. Nurses bustled from room to room, their soft-soled shoes barely making a whisper on the tiles. Emma peered into a waiting room as they passed, amazed to see parents and children of all ages inside. Some of the little ones played with toys, while others clung to their mothers, fear evident in their eyes.

In her wheelchair, Marianne smiled brightly, seeming unaffected by the sights or smells around her. “Thank you for coming with me, Emma. I can’t wait for you to meet Dr. Stafford. He’s so nice.”

Emma marveled at Marianne’s cheerfulness. Most children would not be looking forward to an appointment with their physician. But she seemed eager for it. “Your father mentioned that you also come here for physical therapy.”

Marianne’s smile dimmed. “That part I don’t like. But I know my parents want to believe that one day I might walk again. So I do it for them.”

Emma’s heart tugged with a mixture of sympathy and pride. What a brave girl to endure obviously painful exercises to give her parents hope. “Would you like me to come with you sometime? I’d like to see what your therapy involves.”

“I’d love that.”

“Good. Let me know when your next session is and I’ll arrange it with . . . I’ll arrange for the time off work to go with you.”

Marianne giggled. “Good thing our father is your boss.”

“Marianne.” Will lowered his voice. “If he ever heard you speaking like that . . .”

“I’m sorry.”

“Remember, if the doctor asks, Emma is your cousin, not your sister.”

Marianne sighed. “All right. But I still don’t understand why it’s such a secret.”

Will stopped the chair and came around to face her. “You don’t need to understand. Just know that your father’s career might depend on this. And trust him to reveal the truth when the time is right.” He stared at the girl until she lowered her eyes.

“Yes, Will.”

Affection and admiration for this dear girl stirred in Emma’s chest. “I think Marianne is old enough to understand the reason why Randall is doing this.” When Will shrugged, Emma crouched beside Marianne’s chair. “When I was a baby, my mother died, and my father—our father—didn’t think he could raise me alone. When my grandparents offered to take me, he agreed. Some people might call that a great sacrifice.” And it suddenly occurred to Emma that she had in fact come to view it as such. “But some people might think of it as a cowardly act, for him to abandon his child that way. And your father’s opponents could use this information against him to make him look bad. Does that make sense?”

Marianne nodded thoughtfully. “So we’re telling a lie to protect him.”

“For now, yes.”

“If you think that’s the best thing to do, then I can pretend you’re my cousin.”

Emma squeezed her hand. “As long as you and I know that we’re sisters, that’s all that matters.” She leaned in to brush a kiss to the girl’s cheek. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

Nothing seemed to allay Jonathan’s unease as he waited for Professor Moore in his parlor. Though he hated to admit it, Jonathan had been worried about Emma all day, wondering how she was getting on at her new job, and now that he couldn’t seem to find her, he’d swallowed his pride and come in search of her. Or at least in search of someone who might know of her whereabouts.

He’d already embarrassed himself by showing up at the university, where a woman named Doris Ingersoll had told him that Emma and Mr. Munroe had left early on some errand for the professor. That had been several hours ago, according to Miss Ingersoll, and instead of returning to the boardinghouse to pace the floorboards until Emma returned, Jonathan decided to visit the professor himself to see what he could learn of the situation. It would also afford him a chance to speak with the man in private and hopefully ascertain his true intentions regarding his daughter.

The fact that the professor had given Emma this job didn’t sit well with Jonathan. He feared the man had ulterior motives, though Jonathan couldn’t imagine what they could be. Perhaps Randall didn’t trust Emma completely and wanted her close by to keep an eye on her. In any event, having a frank discussion would hopefully alleviate Jonathan’s concerns.

“Why hello, Mr. Rowe. How nice to see you again.”

At the sound of a feminine voice, Jonathan shot to his feet.

Corinne Moore entered, laying an armful of books on a side table. “I was on my way upstairs and thought I saw someone sitting here. What brings you by?” She smoothed her hand down her dark blue skirt.

“I’m here to see your father.”

“Alone?” One fair eyebrow rose as she scanned the empty parlor.

“Yes.”

A slow smile bloomed. She came forward to loop her arm through his. “In that case, I’ll make it my job to entertain you until Papa arrives.”

An uncomfortable urge to flee rose in Jonathan’s chest. “That’s not necessary, Miss Moore—”

“Please, you must call me Corinne.” She tugged him down onto the sofa, sitting much too close for comfort. “May I offer you some refreshments?”

“No, thank you.” He attempted to remove his arm from her grip, but she held on tighter.

“Tell me, Mr. Rowe, or Jonathan, if I may, what have you been doing for fun since you arrived in Toronto?”

“Fun?” He blinked at her. Who had time for fun between his work at the boardinghouse and trying to keep tabs on Emma? “I’ve been on a few lovely walks around the city.”

“That hardly qualifies as fun.” She smiled up at him from under her lashes. “Do you roller-skate at all in England?”

“I haven’t for some time. Though I did enjoy the sport in my younger years.”

She trilled out a laugh. “You make it sound as if you have one foot in the grave. You can’t be more than, what, twenty-five?”

“Not until later in the year.”

“Then you’re much too young to be so serious.” She ran her hand up his arm. “I would love to show you more of our city. How about a night of roller-skating at our local rink and milk shakes afterward?”

Jonathan squirmed on the cushions. That sounded far too much like a date. “That would be”—tortuous—“smashing. I’m sure Emma would enjoy it too.”

Corinne’s smile faded. “I thought we could go together, just the two of us.”

“And that would go against my rules, young lady.” The booming voice of Professor Moore had never been more welcome. He entered the room, frowning at this daughter. “You know my policy on dating.”

“But, Papa, I’m eighteen. More than old enough to go on a date.”

Randall looked at Jonathan. “No offense, Mr. Rowe, but you’re still a stranger.”

Jonathan quickly got to his feet. “Of course, sir. I’m sure your daughter was only being kind to a visitor and didn’t intend it as an actual date.” At least he prayed not.

“I hope you’re right.” He pinned Corinne with a hard stare. “Why don’t you make it a group outing? With Emmaline and Will along, I’d feel much better.”

Was it Jonathan’s imagination or did Corinne seem to pale?

“That sounds brilliant,” he said. “I’ll ask Emma when I see her. And speaking of Emma, sir, that’s why I’m here. Do you happen to know where she is? I stopped by the university and she was gone, apparently on some type of errand.”

“That’s right.” Randall unbuttoned his jacket. “She and Will took Marianne to the hospital for her specialist appointment. My wife came down with one of her headaches and wasn’t able to go. They should be back any minute.”

Scowling, Corinne crossed the room. “Why didn’t you ask me to go? I normally fill in when Mama can’t make it.”

“I knew you had an exam today, and with the end of the school year so close, I didn’t want to jeopardize your excellent marks.”

Corinne pressed her lips together in undisguised displeasure.

Randall clapped a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Why don’t you join me in my study for a brandy while we wait for Emma? When she arrives with Marianne, we can make arrangements for the roller-skating excursion.”

Jonathan bit back a sigh. It seemed Randall Moore was used to getting his own way in both personal and career-related matters. Jonathan might as well make the best of it since there didn’t appear to be any other alternative.

Corinne gritted her teeth together as her father escorted Jonathan down the hall to his study. Once again, he’d overridden her desires and changed the circumstances to suit his own ends.

She’d wanted to get Jonathan to take her on a date. Alone. For two reasons. One, to perhaps learn more about Emmaline, per Grandfather’s request. And two, as a catalyst to make Will Munroe sit up and take notice. To make him realize that if he didn’t act soon, someone else would be waiting in the wings to claim her heart . . . and possibly her hand.

Now, thanks to Father, he and Emma would be joining them on their outing. And the beautiful Emma would monopolize both men’s attention, leaving Corinne invisible once again.

Her grandfather’s words came to mind. “Get close to the girl. Get her to confide in you.” The very idea made Corinne’s stomach twist.

But perhaps this roller-skating excursion could be salvaged. Perhaps she could still make Will jealous. And if she played her cards right, she might even get to spend some time in Will’s arms on the rink.

If that meant pretending to be friendly with Emmaline, then Corinne would simply have to sharpen her acting skills.

Jonathan scanned Professor Moore’s study in silent awe as he took a seat by the hearth. Two large bookcases flanked the stone fireplace, both filled with rows of identical-looking law books. At the far end of the room, a large oak desk and filing cabinet took up most of the wall.

Professor Moore moved to a table and uncapped a glass decanter. “Brandy?”

“Um, no thank you, sir. I don’t care for spirits.”

He raised a brow but poured some amber liquid in a glass for himself. “Water then? Or tea?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

The professor took a seat opposite Jonathan. “I’m glad to have this chance to speak to you alone. You seem very close to my daughter, and I’d value your insight.”

Instant tension seized Jonathan’s shoulders. As much as he’d wanted to talk to the man, Jonathan now couldn’t remember what he’d planned to say. His heart beat double time, and a fine sweat broke out on his brow. No doubt about it, Randall Moore could intimidate a person with one glance.

“I wanted to know if Emmaline had a happy childhood.” The unexpected wistfulness of his question took Jonathan by surprise. Randall raised his head, angst written on his face. “Did the Bartletts treat her well?”

“Yes, sir. They doted on Emma. She meant the world to them.” He wouldn’t mention that her childhood had been marred by the fact that she’d pined for the mother and father she never knew.

“I’m glad.” The lines around the professor’s mouth relaxed. “That makes my decision to let them raise her worth it in the long run.”

“Did you know that Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett told Emma you were dead?”

“No. But it makes sense now why all my letters went unanswered.” He took a sip and set the glass down on a side table. “I had assumed my daughter wanted nothing to do with me. That she hated me.”

“I don’t think Emma could ever hate anyone. She is one of the most compassionate, loving, optimistic people I know.”

“I’m beginning to see that.” Randall Moore studied him for a moment as he sipped his drink. “Tell me, Jonathan, how long have you been in love with my daughter?”

Jonathan jerked back in his seat. His first inclination was to vehemently deny the accusation, but then again, did it really matter if Randall knew? Perhaps Jonathan would find an ally in him. He met the man’s frank stare. “We’ve always been close, like brother and sister, as Emma says. It wasn’t until she took an interest in my best friend that I realized I felt something more. Emma and Danny were engaged just before we shipped off to the war.”

“Engaged?” He frowned. “She would have been awfully young.”

“About eighteen. But times were different then with the war starting.” He paused. “We knew a lot of us would never return. It turned out Danny was one of them.”

“I’m sorry. It must have been hard to lose such a good friend.”

“Very hard.” In more ways than one.

Randall tapped his fingers on the armrest. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but what’s holding you back now?”

Jonathan sucked in a breath and slowly released it. “Emma’s always wanted a traditional family. Now that she’s found you and her sisters, I think she wants it more than ever. To be honest, sir, I’m torn. I don’t want her to have to choose between us.”

“I see. So, the noble fellow that you are, you’re willing to sacrifice yourself to make her happy?” A hint of sarcasm coated Randall’s words.

Why did he make it sound like such a cowardly thing to do? “Isn’t that what love is about? Putting the other person’s happiness above our own?”

“Sometimes.” The professor stared at him. “In a perverse way, I thought I was doing that by giving Emma up. At the time, that idea helped ease my own guilt for abandoning her.” He shook his head and pinned Jonathan with a serious look. “Don’t make the same mistake I did. Sometimes we have to fight for the people we love.”

The murmur of voices from the front of the house drew Randall’s attention. “Sounds like they’re back.”

The two men rose at the same time.

However, Jonathan couldn’t leave without one last plea. “Promise me one thing, sir.”

“What’s that?” The man’s expression turned wary.

“Emma wants a relationship with you more than anything in the world. It would devastate her completely if you rejectd her again.” He prayed he wasn’t betraying Emma’s confidence by telling her father that much. However, if it protected her from heartbreak, Jonathan would face the consequences of her anger.

Randall gave a clipped nod. “I’ll do my best. That’s all I can promise for now.”