Page 23 of Until I’m Safe in Your Arms

“Other women?” He offered his arm and she took it eagerly, twining her arm in his.

“Yes, Lucinda invited some of her friends to tea and introduced me. We all had such a lovely time, and now I have acquaintances I can call on in Town.” Emma sounded so happy. Alex hadn’t realized his wife had been lonely.

“That sounds splendid, my love. And when we have your dinner party for the married officers and their wives, you will have even more ladies to call upon.” They had reached the front door, so Alex paused. “Speaking of dinner parties, I have arranged a special homecoming dinner just for you, Emma.”

“Alex, how thoughtful of you.” She rose up on tiptoe and kissed his lips, lingering just long enough to make him hungry in a very different way. “I know we parted on strained terms, but I am glad that is all in the past now. I so want us to have a good marriage, my love.”

“As do I, sweetheart.” He did want their union to be a success. Tonight should go a long way to making it so. “Here, let us go in, but let me ask you to shut your eyes.”

The pools of blue widened. “But why?”

“The better to surprise you, my dear.”

With a giggle, Emma nodded and dutifully closed her eyes.

Buckleigh opened the door and Alex helped Emma into the house. “This way, love.”

The butler took her shawl, and Emma stepped further into the house, wrinkling her nose. “What is that smell?”

Alex grinned. “Does it seem familiar?”

“Yes, it does.” She shrank back against him. “I don’t like this, Alex. Can I open my eyes now?”

“Let me take you to the dining room, then you can open them.” He steered her down the corridor to the threshold of the room. “Now you can open them, love.”

He stepped back, wanting the best view of her face when she saw how he’d transformed their normal dining room into his idea of an Indian palace. The walls were draped with colorful gauzy fabric, caught up at intervals with ribbons. Instead of the normal tablecloth, red cloth shot with gold covered the table where all the best crystal and china were laid. Spread out over the bright expanse lay all manner of Indian dishes Mrs. Parker had managed to find recipes for or adapted from her own. Crisp vegetable fritters, creamy curried vegetables, lamb in a spicy red sauce, flatbread, and fragrant rice. The sight and smell of the unusual dishes made Alex hungry.

About to ask Emma if she was surprised, Alex frowned to see her staring at the room, her nose flaring, her body trembling, her face drained of color. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

Her head started to shake from side to side, gaining momentum as she began backing toward the door. “No…no…no!”

“Emma?” Alex had no idea what had come over his wife. He took her arm, but she threw it off, whirling toward him.

“No! No!” Tears dripped down her agonized face. “I can’t… Not again.”

“What is wrong, my dear?” Alex grasped her arm—she looked so ghastly he feared she might swoon.

With a strength he didn’t believe possible from her, Emma pulled free, gave him one stricken look, then bolted from the room.

Chapter Nine

Sobbing nearly hysterical tears, Emma fled up the stairs, taking some of them two at a time. She had to get away, go hide herself so no one could find her. Throwing the door open so forcefully it banged into the wall behind it, Emma ran for the far side of the bed and dove underneath it without a thought for either her clothes or her body. She banged her head on the underside of the bed, but ignored the sharp pain and continued to burrow underneath it.

Were those footsteps in the hall? She froze, listened closely, then continued to squeeze herself into the smallest ball she could and waited, trying not to whimper. That pungent aroma wafted over her, filling her nose with the nasty smell until she wanted to stuff her nose with something to block it out.

The steps grew slower. Oh, she should have closed and locked the door. Now she must be absolutely silent so they couldn’t find her.

“Emma?”

She stiffened, scarcely breathing.

“Emma, where are you, sweetheart?” The soft voice seemed familiar.

The steps came closer until she could see the black shoes from under the bed. Then a concerned face appeared. “Emma, what are you doing under there?”

Alex. He’d come to rescue her. “Alex,” she whispered. “Thank God. Please, please, take me away from here.”

He frowned but nodded. “Of course I will, darling. Can you come out from under the bed?” His face disappeared. “Then we can go.”