Intertwine (12 page)

Chapter 10

The blue guest room

Haldon Manor

Several hours later

May 3, 1812

E
mme placed her finger-tips against the cool window pane and leaned forward, noting the blond gentleman—Mr. James Knight, she supposed—swing onto his horse, his large overcoat brushing his boots. He nodded and spoke as another man rode into her view. This man was darker than Mr. Knight but dressed in the same tight buckskins, top hat and long overcoat. His brother, Arthur, perhaps? Their clothing felt odd somehow. Like it wasn’t quite right. Old-fashioned, perhaps?

Emme watched as the men briefly spoke, her gaze following as they turned their mounts down the drive. Mr. Knight felt so familiar and yet not somehow. Another memory flitting just outside her consciousness. It was maddening.

You’re losing it
, supplied a dry voice in her head.

Perhaps.

She wasn’t quite sure she liked the tone of that dry voice. It seemed a little . . .

Emme searched for the right word.

Snarky?
the voice helpfully supplied.

Emme sniffed and, shaking her head, turned away from the window.

She had awakened this afternoon with her mind much clearer, the dizziness gone. Her terrible headache had also receded to a dull thrum, a little bothersome but not the blinding pain of before. But even though the mental fuzziness had dissipated, her memory had not returned.

It had been nearly three days since she arrived at Haldon Manor. Or at least so said the little maid who had been attending her bedside. She had only three days of hazy memories. The familiar-ish golden haired man talking softly to the equally blond slim woman. The kindly doctor who had gently examined her head, finding the tender bump. The bedroom with its dark paneled wood and beamed ceiling, soft blue bed hangings and large mullioned window that overlooked a gravel drive, an expanse of lawn extending to a forest and rolling hills in the distance.

And the young maid sitting quietly at her side every time Emme opened her eyes. Fanny was her name.

Fanny. Isn’t that name somewhat unfortunate?
asked the dry voice.
Did her parents consider child-naming an exercise in character building? Or was it more of a drunken dare?

The voice was odd. Like a less censored version of herself.

An Alter Self.

Just what she needed. No memory and now she was hearing voices. It was like a catastrophe with a bonus tacked on.

Two for one
, Alter Emme said. She sounded smug.

Emme shook her head, trying to clear her mind. Fanny had been there this afternoon when she awoke, more alert and desperately hungry. The maid had brought her some beef broth and a crusty roll which Emme had eaten, listening to Fanny tell how Mr. Knight had found her stranded in the middle of a terrible storm and carried her on his horse to Haldon Manor.

Mmmm, why couldn’t you at least have a memory of that?
Alter Emme had asked.

After eating, Emme realized she hadn’t noticed a connecting door that might lead to a bathroom..

“I find that I need to . . . ,” Emme had waived her hand, looking for the right euphemism, “relieve myself,” she had finished lamely. “Is there a water closet perhaps down the hall?”

Poor Fanny had looked a little embarrassed and wrung her hands. Both actions caused Emme some confusion. What about a bathroom would cause embarrassment and hand wringing?

“Oh, I’m so sorry, miss,” Fanny had said in her delightful country accent. “The master hasn’t seen fit to install a water closet in Haldon Manor yet. Though I hear tell that Lord Linwood installed four water closets and two bath rooms at Kinningsley earlier this year. My cousin is a kitchen maid there and says they are the most wondrous things she ever saw.” Still with the embarrassment, Fanny had continued, “We just use a night commode here at Haldon Manor.” She gestured toward a wooden chair in the corner with a rather large hole in the middle of its seat, a porcelain bowl peeping out from underneath.

“Ah,” Emme had said, finally understanding. Though still confused by the whole exchange. Night commode. She had committed the word to memory. It was obviously a term that she should have known. What other basic things had she forgotten?

After using the night commode, Emme had asked about perhaps bathing as well. This had resulted in two footman carrying in a round tub which Fanny had called a hip bath. They had placed this in front of the fire and circled it with a screen, presumably for warmth and privacy. Then Emme had watched as bucket after bucket of hot water was brought into the room, filling the bath.

Though time consuming, Emme had thanked them all and sunk her form as far as possible into the warm, soothing water. The soap had been small and round but pleasant, smelling of lavender. Fanny had even provided a toothbrush and a chalky dust she called “tooth powder.”

But the entire experience had felt odd. Everything just a little off, but Emme was at a loss to explain exactly how. Again memories skittered frustratingly just out of reach.

She had been somewhat comforted by the cream silken night gown and matching robe with pink satin slippers. Fanny had stated that these were the clothes she had been wearing when Mr. Knight had found her. These items at least didn’t feel odd. Just good and right against her skin.

Hugging her arms around herself, Emme tried yet again to remember her own name, her family, a friend. A detail that had the taste of memory. Anything. But the harder she concentrated, the more everything danced out of reach. Nothing. She could remember nothing. Emme fought against the now familiar anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her.

Another panic attack
, Alter Emme murmured.

Taking deep measured breaths, she walked over and studied her reflection in the mirror above the fireplace. Dark hair curling into loose ringlets. Oddly colored eyes with pale amber around her pupil drifting to light green farther out. Dramatic arching eyebrows, making her pale skin seem even more colorless. She traced her lips with her fingertips, the touch convincing her that the reflection was truly herself. A face that was achingly familiar and yet not. Emme started at a gentle knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called and then smiled as Georgiana Knight cautiously peered around the door.

“Oh,” Georgiana said brightly, “how wonderful to see that you are awake and up!”

Georgiana shut the door and moved into the room. Though too thin and shockingly pale, Georgiana’s eyes bounced with excitement. Her dress was a light blue with a high waist and flowy material that swirled around her as she walked. Her golden hair was piled on top of her head with curls escaping to frame her face. Georgiana’s generous mouth spread in a welcoming smile.

“Yes, thank you,” Emme agreed. “Fanny has been most attentive and helpful.”

“How are you feeling?” Georgiana asked.

“Better,” Emme replied. “Though nothing of my memory has returned, I’m so sorry to say.” Emme found herself instinctively matching her speech and accent to Georgiana’s. It seemed fitting but not entirely normal. Again, just one more thing that was a little off.

“I thank you and your brother for your kind hospitality,” Emme continued. “I shudder to think what would have become of me had Mr. Knight not come to my rescue.”

“Oh, think nothing of it. In fact, James insists that you are to stay as long as you would like. Most definitely until your memory returns or someone comes to claim you. Or both. I know I am delighted to have your company.”

Georgiana cocked her head in surprise at Emme and moved to stand much closer to her, eying her up and down. And then turned so she and Emme stood side-by-side, their shoulders the same height and nearly touching. As if appraising her, taking her measure. The entire time, Georgiana’s smile had grown larger and more pronounced, her full lips stretching wide.

“Has anyone come looking for me?” Emme asked, raising her eyebrows at Georgiana’s odd maneuvering.

“Remarkable,” Georgiana murmured from her position next to Emme’s shoulder, still looking her up and down.

“Pardon?” Emme blinked her eyes in surprise.

“You match my height so perfectly. How delightful!”

Emme gave a low chuckle. “Do you always instantly measure a stranger’s height against your own?”

“Oh, dear,” Georgiana sighed, blushing slightly and taking a step backward. “I am terribly sorry if I seemed forward. I act and speak without thinking far too often. Please forgive me.”

Oh, I do so love people with poor filters,
Alter Emme whispered.

Ignoring the voice in her head, Emme smiled what she hoped was a comforting smile. “Please don’t worry on my account. You are speaking to someone who has no memory. It is more likely that I will be the one to say or do something that isn’t exactly proper. Not you.”

Unexpectedly, Georgiana bent over, giving several short, harsh coughs. Instantly concerned, Emme reached out a hand to her, only to have Georgiana recover quickly and lift her head with a broad smile.

Acting as if nothing had transpired, Georgiana said, “At least we shall be improper together! And please don’t worry. It will be fun to help you remember everything.” She reached out and took one of Emme’s cold hands in her own. “I know that I am such a trial for Arthur. He is forever shaking his head and correcting me. Well, James and I both. We are both hopeless. Life is far too short to be wasted on worrying about what is strictly proper.”

Emme smiled. Oh yes, she and Georgiana were going to be fast friends. How wonderful to have a little bit of sunshine in the midst of so much uncertainty.

“And I must own that I find this entire situation far too diverting,” Georgiana continued. “It is such a wonderful mystery! I do hope that we can become dear friends. Oh, but your hand is so cold. Please, come lay down. You mustn’t overexert yourself.” Emme delighted in Georgiana’s rushed speech, how she flitted from topic to topic.

Emme allowed herself to be led to the bed, propped up with a mountain of pillows, the heavy bedspread tucked firmly around her. She found the entire situation somewhat ironic, as Georgiana looked like she could use a good rest herself.

Though pretty, Georgiana’s eyes were sunken with dark circles underneath, her skin stretched across the bones of her face. She didn’t look well. And that cough. Not the simple throat-clearing of a healthy person. But a deep, rasping hack that shuddered the whole body and spoke of weak lungs and fragile health.

“Thank you,” Emme said once she was settled. “So as I asked, has anyone come looking for me? Certainly I have been missed?” She felt anxious, desperate for any news of herself.

Georgiana settled herself into the chair next to the bed, scooting a little closer to Emme. “Well, not yet,” she began hesitantly. “But the storm broke only late last night, so there hasn’t been time for the news of your arrival to spread. We all expect that someone will arrive any moment to offer an explanation. And if not, my brothers have promised to send out inquiries. But until then, you are our guest. I am wonderfully excited to have another lady in the house.”

“I wish there were some way to know more about me. I have endless questions about myself. How old am I? Do I have a family? A husband? Heavens, do I have children?” The last thought struck Emme with terror. Panic rushed in again.

Just relax,
Alter Emme said helpfully.
Deep breaths. In and out.

“Yes,” Georgiana agreed eagerly, “I have thought through all those same questions myself. It is such a marvelous puzzle. I think that I can put your mind to rest on a couple of counts.”

“Oh, please!” Letting out a slow stuttering stream of air, Emme forced the anxiety away, tamping it down firmly.

“First of all, you were not wearing a wedding band when found,” Georgiana said. Emme glanced down at her unadorned fingers. “Which isn’t to say you are not married, as a ring could have been lost or just not worn. But I think we can say with surety that you haven’t any children of your own.”

Emme blinked in surprise. “How could you know such a thing?” she asked.

“Well, Mrs. Clark, our housekeeper, helped Fanny and I tend to you when you first arrived.” Here Georgiana leaned in and lowered her voice, as if telling a secret. “And she said that bearing a child usually leaves marks upon a woman’s body, lines where the skin stretches to accommodate the growth of a child, and your body does not bear any of those marks.”