Part 2 (2/2)
He didn't realize he'd dozed off until he sat up with a start, and a sharp pain sliced up along his neck. The sky was pale pink, streaking into gold as the sun stretched its rays across the fresh blanket of snow. Dawn. He'd spent the night there.
His back muscles let him know what they thought of his foolishness, tightening as he stood, and he winced as he stretched both arms overhead. Definitely foolish. Much like l.u.s.ting after Emma. And just like l.u.s.ting over Emma, he'd have to be an idiot to let it happen again.
Chapter Three.
EMMA WOKE THE NEXT MORNING with a terrible headache and the exhaustion that came from a night of restless sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep out the morning light, although the shutters had yet to be opened and the drapes remained closed.
She rubbed her forehead. Winter. The headaches were always worse in the winter.
The door opened with a gentle creak and Amanda's ”Miss McKenzie?” was somewhere between a whisper and normal tone. ”Are you awake?”
Wincing at the spear slicing through her temples, Emma sat up. ”I'm awake. At least somewhat awake, anyway.”
”Miss Adams is in the parlor.” Amanda's skirts swished as she crossed over to the windows to draw the drapes. The windows squeaked as they were opened, and when Amanda threw open the shutters, a gust of chilly wind swirled through the room.
Brilliant sunlight spilled through the small panes and splashed across the floor. Amanda tended to the fire as Emma groaned and sat up, letting the blankets pool about her hips. ”She is?” She looked at the clock on the mantel. ”It's only half past nine. What the blazes is she doing here?”
”I beg your pardon?” Amanda glanced at her over her shoulder.
”Never mind, Amanda.” Her dressing gown lay draped over the foot of the bed. After bracing herself for the chill, Emma lunged. Cold air found its way through the neck of her night rail. She grabbed the heavy velvet gown and wriggled into it.
Her toes curled against the cold floor as she flattened her feet to rise. ”Did she say what she wanted?”
”No, Miss McKenzie.” Amanda brushed her hands off as she rose from the hearth and turned away from the fire. ”But she did look...upset. Her eyes were red.”
Had Rose given George an ultimatum? And did he promptly break her heart in return? Emma scowled. d.a.m.n it. She paused, looking up at the ceiling, as if someone would be up there wagging a finger at her for such harsh language.
”Has Mr. McCallister come down yet?”
Amanda's forehead and nose wrinkled, blotting out the freckles that were normally spattered across the bridge of her nose. ”He left before sunrise.”
”Good. Then I needn't worry about dressing first.”
”Oh, Miss McKenzie, you can't go down looking like-like-” she gestured helplessly at the maroon velvet gown ”-that.”
Emma blew out an exasperated sigh. ”It's only Rose, Momma, Papa, and Mary. They won't mind. But if it means so much to you...” Emma shot her a pointed look, one that Amanda promptly ignored as she dressed Emma as quickly as possible. With a clipped, ”Thank you,” when Amanda finished, Emma marched out of her bedroom and made her way down below, s.h.i.+vering as she rounded the bottom step and pa.s.sed by the front door. ”Rose?”
”Em?” Rose's voice was thick with tears, and Emma bit the inside of her cheek as she crossed into the parlor.
”Rose, what happened? What's the matter?”
Amanda appeared in the doorway. ”May I bring you some tea, Miss Adams?”
Rose nodded, bright spots of color high on her cheeks. Her eyes were s.h.i.+ny and red, and when she said, ”Thank you,” her voice cracked and her tears overflowed her bottom lashes.
”Miss McKenzie?” Amanda turned to her. ”May I bring you some as well?”
”Rose, have you eaten?” Emma asked. When Rose shook her head, Emma said, ”Amanda, has breakfast been set out?”
”Yes, Miss McKenzie. Miss Mary is already in the breakfast room.”
”Of course she is.” That didn't surprise Emma. Mary always managed to be one of the first ones down for any meal. And it was just as well, for she was reed-thin and Rebecca was forever worrying over her health, insisting she wear several layers beneath her dresses to keep warm, even indoors.
”Come along, Rose.” Emma caught her by the wrist to tuck her arm through hers. ”You and I will eat something and talk.”
But Rose refused to move. ”I can't eat, Em. How can I possibly eat now? Do you know what happened?”
Oh, drat it all. Emma cast a quick glance up again, just as she had in her chambers, then chided herself for her foolishness. ”You need to eat, Rose.”
”How? How do I eat when my life is over?” With a heavy sigh, Rose threw herself facedown onto the blue damask sofa.
Oh, dear. Rose was always so stoic, only resorting to theatrics when she was genuinely upset. And judging by the heavy flounce, this was big. Very big. Emma turned to Amanda. ”Bring tea, please. Oh, and do we have any pastries?”
”Yes, Miss McKenzie.”
”Good. Bring us a plate of those, too.”
”Yes, Miss.”
Emma waited until Amanda left before she gathered up her dressing gown to sit beside Rose, who now had rolled onto her back and dramatically flung an arm over her face. ”What happened, Rose? Out with it.”
”I don't think I can talk about it.” Her sleeve m.u.f.fled her words, but Emma was fairly certain that was what she said.
”Rose Adams-” Emma tugged her arm away from her face to scowl at her ”-if I came rus.h.i.+ng down here dressed like this, and you aren't talking about it, I'm going to throttle you. Or worse, I'll drag you into the breakfast room to share breakfast with my sister, the one with the hollow legs, it would seem.”
That earned her a watery smile, but it was fleeting. Rose's face soon crumpled. ”George came by after supper.” She let her arm fall to the cus.h.i.+on with a soft thud. ”And I asked him once and for all if he was ever going to propose.”
A sour taste rose in the back of Emma's throat. She wasn't going to have to use the threat of Mary against Rose again to get her to answer any more questions. ”And what did he say?”
The sick feeling worsened as the fat tears in Rose's eyes welled up and overflowed again. ”He grew furious with me, Em. Demanded to know why I was on him about it all the time now, and when I told him what you told me about Darcy, he...” Her voice cracked, her bottom lip quivered, and she pressed them together to compose herself.
Emma waited, holding her breath, even though she knew what Rose was going to say. Her belly lurched as Rose confirmed it. ”He said he could do whatever-” she broke off, glanced about the room and then finished in a conspiratorial whisper ”-whatever he d.a.m.n well wanted.”
”Oh, Rose, he didn't.” She clasped Rose's hand tightly between hers. ”And what did you say?”
Rose sniffled then rummaged in her reticule for a handkerchief that had long since lost its stiffness. The lace flopped over her hand as she dabbed at her face. ”What could I say? I slapped him and told him to leave.”
For a frightening moment, Emma thought she might be ill. ”Would it help if I talked to him?”
”Nothing is going to help. He doesn't want to marry me, Em. He wants to be able to kiss anyone he wishes, even a witch like Darcy. And you know it doesn't stop at just kissing, either. He'd have to be an idiot to think I believe that rubbish.” She shoved the handkerchief back into her reticule with all the gentleness of a giant. ”And do you know, I don't give a b.l.o.o.d.y d.a.m.n what he does.” Her temper must have been rising, for while Emma stared at her, shocked by her words, Rose went on as if nothing was amiss. Her fury finally got the best of her as she snarled, ”He can plow every tart in town, for all I care now.”
Emma's ears stung from the vulgarities, but Rose looked defiant. That faade lasted only seconds, though, before she dissolved into heartbreaking sobs. Her shoulders slumped, she buried her face in both hands, and her entire body shook from the force.
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