'Nothing is decided,' Emma said quickly.
'We agreed on the company, Miss Harrison.' Jack's face became stern. 'Stephenson and I have to discuss how best to proceed with the building of the bridge and its design. How to get the bridge built on time.'
'Until my father is well, I cannot say what he will do. I don't speak for my father.' Emma balled her fists. He had to understand. She had to give her father something to live for. 'He is alive. And he is going to recover fully. You said it was poisoning.'
'I hope and pray he does. In the meantime, someone needs to look after the bridge. It is too important a project to go unsupervised, and I do have other commitments, Miss Harrison.
Places I need to be in the New Year. I accepted a contract in Italy. People are depending on me.'
Emma stared at Jack not quite taking in what he was saying. Other commitments. She had thought he would be staying. Another illusion. A great hollow place opened inside her. A huge Jack-shaped hole. She screwed her eyes shut, refused to think about that. She was overwrought about her father. That had to be it. It had no other cause.
'If it is arsenic poisoning, then my father will get well.' She forced the words from her throat.
'He should do, but it may take months.' He laid a hand on her shoulder briefly. 'You must face facts, Miss Emma. That bridge must have someone permanent in charge, whether your father retains ownership of his company or not. It needs a qualified and competent engineer.'
'The ground is frozen. Give my father time.' As she said the words she knew she was pleading for her own well-being.
Emma moved away from him. She had to think, to ignore the trembling that was developing in her stomach. Jack was making plans to go away--to go away and not come back.
'As you wish, but I need to speak with Stephenson in person.' He gave a careless shrug.
'There is little good I can do here. The ground is frozen. But the trains are running.'
'And your experiments?'
'Davy Newcomb knows what to do. I have sent him a list of instructions. He is trustworthy.'
Emma forced her lips to turn upwards. 'You appear to have thought of everything.'
'I like to have the details correct.' His eyes darkened. 'They need me in London.'
Emma wanted to whisper that she needed him to stay here. But the words refused to come.
What was between them was too new and fragile. Perhaps it was only her own longing and not his. He had been quite clear about things that first day.
She adjusted the shawl tighter around her shoulders. 'I shall wish you Godspeed on your journey, then.'
'I will return...before the thaw, Emma.' A half-smile touched his lips. He took a step closer.
'Wish me luck.'
'I thought I had already.' Her breath seemed to stick in her throat. She knew if she took one step closer her body would brush his.
'So cold, so formal,' he murmured.
He leant forward, and his fingertips delicately traced the outline of her eyebrows, the line of her nose and the curve of her jaw. Soft touches, as if he were memorising her face. Intimate touches, creating little ripples of warmth that flooded through her body. Her lips ached, and she wanted to taste his mouth again. What mattered was the feel of him against her.
Her hand reached up to drag his face down. But the clock chimed and he stepped away.
'Next time, remember to say goodbye properly without being asked.' He touched his hat.
And he was gone before her mind could think up a suitable scathing retort. She heard his steady footsteps go down the stairs and the sound of the door closing.
She ran to the front of the house and rested her cheek against the windowpane, watching the black carriage disappear into the swirling white snow. She watched for a long time, until the tracks from the carriage became white and the world was covered with white down, refusing to think about trains becoming stuck or derailing.
The sound of the servants moving about the house roused her. She gave herself a shake. There was more to her life than mooning about like some schoolgirl. She had responsibilities, a life.
But her mouth ached with the memory of what might have been.
'He will come back,' Lucy said, pressing her hand against Emma's as they sat in the little hut beside the frozen pond three days later. Her father had insisted she join the Charltons' skating party. He was tired of her fussing and fretting. 'There is no need to act the moon-calf about it either. He will be back before you know it.'
Emma froze. She thought she had been so careful. She had barely mentioned Jack Stanton.
Only that he had gone just before the winter storm had set in. Newcastle and the rest of the North East slumbered under a blanket of snow and ice.
'What are you talking about, Lucy? Why this sudden penchant for riddles?' Emma bent her head and concentrated on fastening the strap of her ice skate.
'Your Mr Stanton.'
Emma pulled too hard and the leather strap broke.
'Now see what you made me do!' Emma held up the broken strap with a rueful smile. 'You should not tease me like that. I had not realised the leather was rotten.'
'Is that what caused it?' Lucy's eyes danced. 'And I thought you were remembering the way Mr Stanton could not take his eyes off you at the pantomime. I assure you the other ladies were quite jealous. Lottie fumed about it. Even Henry remarked on it to Dr Milburn. I am certain he will make an offer. I can see wedding bells in your future!'
'Must you always indulge in such fairytales?' A wave of burning stained her cheeks. Wedding bells? The idea was laughable. Jack Stanton had no intention of marrying anyone, least of all her. His sole concern and purpose was ensuring Harrison and Lowe became part of his empire. He had made that quite clear.
'You are being deliberately blind.'
'You are seeing romance where there is none. Jack Stanton is a family friend.' Emma held out her skate. 'Anyway, whatever the cause, it looks like I shan't be skating today.'
'I will get you another strap. I won't have you getting out of skating this easily, Emma Harrison.'
'How can I skate on one skate? Be reasonable, Lucy.' Emma gave a small laugh, and privately heaved a sigh of relief. The subject had veered away from Jack.
'Let me solve your problem.' Lucy signalled towards a footman, who brought another piece of leather. Emma waited while he threaded the strap through and then handed the skate back.
'You see--no excuse.'
'I do like to skate, Lucy.'
'It is good that your father has improved enough for you to leave him. I had worried you would not make Lottie's party.'
'My father was determined I would. Unlike Mama, he wants peace and quiet. He says I fuss.'
Emma nodded to where Lottie stood, pretty and poised on the ice. 'She looks like a fairy child.'
'Ah, but she knows it, and that is the problem. She is rapidly turning into a flirt, and just think what that will do for her prospects.'
'Thus far she has been careful.'
'But she gets bolder and bolder. I am worried. One slip, one misjudgement, and her reputation could be beyond repair. But neither Henry nor Mother Charlton is interested.'
'Thankfully I listened to Mama about the pitfalls and avoided most of them.' A shiver ran down Emma's spine. She hated to think how close she had been to scandal with Jack. She did not regret it.
'Ah, Stanton, you have returned. In good time as well.'
'My meetings took less time than I anticipated. It is good to see you looking so hardy, Harrison.' Jack handed his top hat to Fackler. 'Where is Miss Emma? I thought she might like to try out my new sleigh.'
'She has gone to that Charlton chit's skating party. She was getting on my nerves, always fussing.'
Jack was dismayed at the wave of disappointment that coursed through his body. All the way up on the train he had pictured Emma's face, her eyes lighting up, her cupid's bow mouth softening when she saw the sleigh. And now she had gone out and the surprise would have to wait.
'I see. There will be other occasions, no doubt.'
Harrison tapped his fingers together. 'But this might prove fortuitous.'
'How so?'
'I have been thinking. I can not go on running the project much longer. I want to spend time doing other things.'
'My offer stands. Your recent illness makes no difference.'
'Ah, but I have my daughter to think of. She loves that bridge, and cares about the employees.' Harrison raised his eyebrows. 'I am going to give her the company as a dowry. It will be her problem then. I have enough from my various land investments. The railways have been driving the price of land, and for a man with an eye on how the land lies there have been opportunities.'
Jack stared at him as cold seeped through his body. Harrison was giving the company to his daughter as a dowry. Exactly who was she marrying? What had happened while he had been gone?
'What are you saying?' He forced a laugh from between his teeth. 'Which man should I be congratulating?'
'Now, now, I am not blind and deaf, Stanton. I know a thing or two about these matters.'
Harrison tapped his finger against his nose. 'I know which way the wind is blowing.'
'I made an offer to you in good faith.' Jack stared at Harrison, unable to believe his ears.
Harrison was offering him the company as Emma's dowry. 'Does Emma know of this proposition?'
'No...I hadn't thought to say anything to her. I wanted to speak to you first. It was only right and proper.'
Jack resisted the urge to curse long and loud.
'If you know what is good for you, don't.'
A smile beamed across Harrison's face. 'I thought I could pick 'em. But Margaret had her heart set on her daughter being able to wear a coronet. She wouldn't settle for anything less than a title. It was a mistake, and Emma paid for it.'
'What was between Emma and I was over a long time ago.'
'I have eyes and ears, Stanton. You don't fool me.' Harrison cleared his throat. 'Anyway, I have taken the liberty of obtaining a licence--an ordinary one, to save money.'
'A licence?' Jack stared at Harrison. Had the fit caused him to become touched in the head?
'You have organised a marriage licence?'
'Between you and Emma. It took some doing, but I am not without friends.'
'Why?'
'As I said, I knew the way in which the wind was blowing, and after my brush with death it came to me. Harrison and Lowe must be protected, and what better way to keep it all in the family, eh? And no point in shelling out for a Special Licence if one doesn't have to.'
'Harrison, I do my own courting.' Jack bit out the words. 'When I marry, and I have no plans to marry at present, I will marry for a far better reason than acquiring a company.'
Harrison's face fell. 'What are you saying?'
'I fear you have wasted your money. I have no plans to marry your daughter.' Jack crossed his arms and stared at Harrison. No man ran his life.
'No plans...but I thought--'
'You mistook my intentions. We are friends, Miss Harrison and I,' Jack said through gritted teeth. He had spent the better part of the time he had been gone trying to get her from his mind, and now he came back to this. It was not going to happen. Not in the manner Harrison prescribed.
'I can see I was a bit precipitous.' Harrison ran a finger around the rim of his collar. 'I had thought...Forget I said anything about it. Emma knows nothing about this.'
'You may call it what you like, but I never mix business with pleasure,' Jack said in a cold voice.
'Ah, but which is the business and which is the pleasure?' Harrison tapped his nose. 'It has been disputed before.'
'And if you are wise you will not say anything about it to Emma.' Jack clung onto the last vestiges of his control as anger surged through him. Harrison was prepared to sell his daughter in this way, to stoop to blatant manipulation. Emma deserved better than that. A marriage was more than a business arrangement. His parents' marriage had been. 'I bid you good day.'
'I do hope Emma is enjoying her skating expedition.' Harrison's voice trailed after him, causing Jack to pause in the doorway. 'I understand Dr Milburn is going. Her dear mama had high hopes for them once. In her final days she often used to speak of how well suited they were.'
Jack pulled on his gloves as he tried to refrain from shaking the man. Harrison's matchmaking attempts were pitiful. Emma had no interest in Milburn.
But...He paused, cold washing over him. What was Charles Milburn's interest? He could see the doctor's greedy eyes again, hear his voice proclaiming that he would soon marry Emma.
An idle boast?
What if there was something more sinister afoot? The man had had no scruples as a boy. Jack clearly remembered the time Milburn had taken the opportunity to discover examination questions, and then blamed it on his hapless sidekick. Then there had been the time Milburn had lost the money from the charity box but had sported a new waistcoat. Nothing had ever been proved. It bothered Jack. Had Milburn really changed?
He quickly dismissed the notion as fanciful. But Emma could be in danger if she decided to quiz Milburn about the tonic. Jack's blood ran cold. Knowing Emma, she was quite capable of it. He cursed himself for being a thousand times a fool. Who knew what the doctor would do if he thought he was cornered?
Jack's heart skipped a beat. He had to make sure Emma was safe.
'You will forgive me, Harrison.'
'Where are you going?'
'To try out the sleigh.' Jack touched the rim of his hat. 'Good day to you, Harrison.'
'Give my regards to my daughter. You will find her on Gosforth Common. Her dowry remains the same, whichever man she chooses.'
Jack slammed the door to the echoing sound of Harrison's laughter.
All around Emma the shrieks of laughter rose. The Charltons' skating party was in full flow.
The ice teemed with the Charltons, a number of Lottie's soldiers and a variety of friends. Mrs Charlton had set up a warming area, complete with a portable stove and a steaming bowl of her famous wassailing punch. Emma finished fastening her skates and stood. After years of not skating her ankles felt wobbly and threatened not to hold her. She looked longingly back at the warm hut.