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Caroline’s chambers were brightly lit, the drapes pulled back all the way, allowing the sunlight to drench the room in a golden glow. Catherine was seated beside Emma, reading one of her favourite novels.
Emma had her back pressed again the backrest of the rocking chair, her head cocked, as she slowly rocked herself. Listening to Catherine’s soothing voice somewhat eased the tension in her shoulders, but she did not want to think of the events of the previous night.
Joseph had cornered her in the dining room, and she’d been forced to throw an entire glass of sherry at him. It was the only thing she was able to think of at the time. She hadn’t gotten much sleep after the miscreant had attempted to enter her room, either.
She’d slept with one eye open even though the maid had shared her chamber, waking to the sound of every little noise in the house. She was terrified of what he may do to her, but thus far, much to Emma’s relief, she had avoided seeing Joseph the entire day as it was spent in the company of her mother.
She was terrified of what he may possibly do to her when she eventually found herself alone in a room with him, and she vowed not to allow that to happen.
Her thoughts travelled back to Charles, wondering if he had received the letter she wrote to him, and whether he would be joining her and the children to say his farewells to Caroline. Perhaps he was still angry and upset and did not wish to see her? Could he have returned to London already, and yet again broken his promise to his children?
Emma was not sure what to think, and the uncertainty of it all caused her to fight the tears that had formed in her eyes. She did not wish for her mother, or Catherine for that matter, to see her upset, although she feared they were already aware of her feelings. The mere fact that Charles had remained at the estate was a concern to her father, who had mentioned it to her mother as well. Her parents knew when things were not right between the couple. So much so, that she did not even need to tell them.
Emma glanced at Caroline, who eyed her suspiciously. Then she gave her a knowing nod, which comforted Emma. Her bond with her mother was very strong, as was her own bond with Catherine. It saddened her to see her mother deteriorate in front of her eyes, knowing she did not have much time left. There was nothing more Emma was able to do.
As Catherine ended her chapter, she quietly closed her book and Emma glanced at her. “You read beautifully, my dear Catherine.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Catherine said and turned to her grandmother. “Did you also enjoy that, Grandmother?”
“Of course. It is one of my favourites.”
“Mine as well,” both Emma and Catherine said at the same time.
The three women giggled, and Catherine placed the book beside her. “Grandmother, may I ask a question?”
“Of course, you may, my dear.”
Catherine smiled briefly and leaned forward. “What would be your best memory?”
“Catherine, I do not think that to be an appropriate question, given the circumstances,” Emma said.
Caroline waved a thin hand in the air. “Oh, but it is the perfect question, Emma. Have we not experienced enough pain and grief the past few days? I know caring for me and ensuring that everything is tended to is not an easy task. I, for one, feel guilty that I have imposed on your life in such a way.”
Emma sat up in the rocking chair, needing to reassure her mother that caring for her was no burden. “You did not impose. I am here willingly and will not leave your side.”
Her mother chuckled and glanced at Catherine. “She is rather intense, is she not?”
“Indeed, Grandmother.”
“Let me tell you about your mother,” Caroline said, and Emma rolled her eyes.
“I hardly think Catherine wishes to hear of my childhood ways,” Emma said.
“I would love to hear about it,” Catherine said. “Mother does not talk about herself much. She is always too busy ensuring that we are taken care of.”
“Your mother has been that way for many, many years.”
Emma rose to her feet and exhaled loudly. “If you would excuse me.”
“Where are you going?” her mother asked. “I was just about to tell Catherine of the frog you attempted to nurse back to health.”
“A frog?” Catherine asked, her eyes sparkling. “You touched a frog, Mother?”
“Indeed,” Emma said.
“That is truly delightful. Tell me the story please, Grandmother.”
“Of course, dear,” Caroline said and turned to Emma. “Would you wish to stay?”
“No. I am stepping out to the gardens. I think I need a breath of fresh air,” Emma said, her chest tight with emotion. She’d had a wonderful childhood and sitting here with her dying mother was not making her want to re-live those memories.
Not today.
“Be careful of the frogs,” Catherine said, and cocked her head. “But you are not afraid of them, are you, Mother? Unlike Father.”
Emma lowered her gaze and refrained from answering Catherine’s question. She excused herself and made her way outside, the sunshine welcoming her with open arms. She followed the path to the garden, where her father would be, tidying up with the gardener. But today, he was nowhere to be seen.
Nevertheless, Emma was grateful for the fresh air and the peaceful ambience around her. Even if she only went for a short walk, she desperately needed to clear her head. Being cooped up inside for most of the morning and the afternoon made her feel like a prisoner in a place where she usually found solace.
The garden was beautiful, filled with wildflowers, roses and petunias. The hedges were lush and green, and the sky overhead was a bright blue hue, with fluffy white clouds gliding over her head. Butterflies fluttered passed as she continued down the pathway, with not an inkling of a sense of direction. She merely strolled, trying to free her mind of the sombre thoughts of her mother’s condition. She was unable to imagine her life without her dear mother, and she feared Charles would not make it in time to still see her alive.
If he was even coming.
***
AS UNBELIEVABLE AS it may sound if he said it aloud, Charles felt the distance between him and Emma lessen the closer they got to her parents’ home. His heart did not feel as heavy as it had previously. She was now within reach and he would not be able to contain himself if he saw her upon his arrival.
He knew that he had reached his destination when the coach turned sharply to the left, moving down a wide road with lush green hedges on each side. A large mill wheel carved from stone was mounted on a marble block, indicating the entrance.
It was a large country estate that had been in Emma’s family for generations, and her father had resided there his entire life. It was nearly as tranquil as Finlay Hall—without the sounds of the crashing waves and the salty sea air, of course.
Instead, Grand Mill House was surrounded by lush countryside, thick foliage, and a stream that flowed through the back of the estate. Emma’s father had his own vegetable garden, which Catherine and Sarah adored.
Charles could not wait to see his family again. It felt as though an entire lifetime had passed since the last time he had seen them.
He silently made a vow to himself that he would put his daughters and Emma above anything else, and he would never leave them for an extended period of time again. Families were not meant to be apart, and he had been selfish to think it was acceptable. He would tell Emma of his feelings for her, whether they were reciprocated or not.
Grand Mill House had never seemed as glorious as when the coach came to a stop in front of the stables, and Charles quickly climbed from the vehicle. He hastily assisted the coachman and the valet to steer the coach to the stables, where the horses could have a well-deserved and far overdue rest.
“Welcome to Grand Mill House, Your Grace,” the groom greeted him with a polite smile.
“Thank you. It is lovely to be here,” Charles said as he began to remove the bridle from one of the horses.
“There is no need for you to do that, Your Grace,” the groom said. “Shall I send for a servant to assist Your Grace with your luggage?”
“There is no need. I will make the arrangements.”
“Very well, Your Grace.”
“I also do not desire to be announced. I wish for my presence to be a surprise, although it is expected. I have been looking forward to seeing the expressions on my wife and daughters’ faces.”
“Indeed, Your Grace. I do believe that Her Grace, the children and—”
A shriek suddenly sounded from behind the manor house and Charles immediately recognised it as Emma’s. He started running, the valet and the groom following close behind him.
“It is coming from the garden, Your Grace,” the valet said.
Charles nodded and ran around the manor house with great haste. His concern for Emma grew with every step he took.
Charles was not a violent man, but he was willing to fight for the woman who had managed to make him feel things he had never felt before. He continued to rush around the manor house, towards the back garden where he and Emma had spent numerous afternoons having tea with her parents. It brought forth many memories, but it also made Charles feel very guilty for taking Emma for granted the way he had.
As he rounded the corner, he came to a sudden halt, stopping dead in his tracks as he stared at the scene before him. Emma stood in the garden, holding a large stick pointed directly at Joseph. She had an angry expression on her face, and he noticed that she spoke in a furious manner. She poked the stick against Joseph’s chest, and it was obvious that she was giving him a sound telling off.
Unable to stop himself, Charles felt a growing smile form on his lips and he simply stood watching Emma. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, but he wished to make her feel wanted and protected while still giving her the ability to be strong and independent.
He was unable to hear what Emma said to Joseph, but Joseph seemed to back away from her, perhaps not expecting her to comport herself in such a manner. Joseph may not approve of her behaviour, but Charles certainly did. Normally women of propriety were expected to hold their tongue and not have an opinion of their own, but at that very moment, Charles could not be prouder of Emma. She stood her ground and handled herself very well.
She was dressed in a light blue cotton day dress, one of Charles’ favourites. He loved that hue on her. It made her skin glow and gave her an angelic appearance. It was possible now that his emotions were more intense, as his feelings for Emma were different than before.
Or perhaps he felt that way about her for a long while, and he had only recently discovered it.
Nevertheless, it was time to step in and perhaps give Joseph the fright of his life. Charles had not written a reply to Emma’s letter, and no one at Mill Grand House was certain when or if he would appear.
Charles slowly approached Emma and Joseph, making sure to step on several twigs, causing as much noise as he possibly could and making his presence known to both of them.
Joseph was the first to notice him and his eyes widened. He raised his hands in defeat, stepping away slowly. It was only then Emma followed his gaze and looked directly at Charles. She lowered the stick and it slid from her grasp to the ground at her feet.
For a moment or perhaps longer, they stared at one another.
All his surroundings faded into the background, unimportant and insignificant. A smile formed on Emma’s beautiful face, happiness and relief appearing within an instant. Emma began making her way towards Charles, and Charles did not waste any time either. He hastily made his way over to her.
“Charles,” she said, tears of happiness in her eyes. “You’re here.”
Charles opened his arms towards her, and she fell into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against him, with no intention of ever letting go.
Never again.