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But the dress and the chickens and the worn hat, and then she looked up and . . . and it was Emma. Her face transformed itself in an instant, from caution to intensity. She narrowed her eyes at the carriage, clearly studying its crest.
"Stop," Hart said, and the wheels began to slow as her face settled on stark fear.
He heard her say, "Bess." His foot touched the packed dirt lane.
She'd dropped her little bucket of weeds and was moving toward the back of the house when he snapped the carriage door closed. That froze her in her tracks.
Hart's emotions were held strangely at bay. He felt every inch the impervious lord as he walked toward her. Impenetrable and heartless. "I've been looking for you for weeks, Emma. Now I get the feeling you are about to claim you're not receiving visitors."
Her shoulders heaved with her panting, pale fingers twitched against her skirts.
"I have a few questions for you. I'm sure you understand."
Her hands reached beneath her chin to untie the ribbons of the hat. "Bess, I'll need a moment," she rasped.
Hart caught the motion of Bess rushing around the back corner. A moment later, a door slammed. Emma eased off her hat and smoothed her hair down before she turned slowly to face him.
She looked . . . lovely. Rested and healthy, cheeks turned pink in the warmth of the garden, hair damp at the temples. But her eyes had gone nearly vacant, animated solely by fear.
She said nothing, just stared at a spot beyond his ear. Whatever heat had colored her cheeks was retreating now, leaving sick white behind.
"Surprised to see me?"
When her eyelids fluttered, Hart felt satisfaction rush through his limbs. He was no longer the helpless one.
He cocked his head. "Did you think I would simply shrug and count myself lucky that you had gone? Did you think I would bathe away your scent and dress for the first ball of the Season?"
Her lips trembled as she tried to form a word. "Y-yes. Why would you not?"
"Why not? Hmm." He clasped his hands behind his back and looked her up and down until her fingers wound together in tight anxiety. "I was drunk, Emma. And angry. I was not, however, unconscious. Did you think I would not notice the blood, or remember the way you went so still beneath me?"
"I. . . I don't. . ."
"I know who you are, who you really are. Emily."
Her gaze finally snapped to his, eyes wide and swirling with dark emotions. "Please don't. Please don't tell. I am done with the kind of life I lived in London. This is all I have, all I wanted."
"And what of the deception you perpetrated in town? It is illegal to impersonate a noblewoman, you know."
"I know! I am sorry!" But her eyes were glinting with thought now, instead of regret. "I promise not to return. I've disappeared and that's all I ever wanted. I did just as you advised and bought into the funds. And I've never stolen from you or anyone else."
"Really? What of our trust and our friendship?"
"Please . .. I'll. . ." Her eyes darkened. "I'll do anything to make it up to you. Pleased
Well, she'd gotten there quickly. Hart forced a laugh to cover his hurt. "Anything? Then invite me in. We will start with tea."
She nodded, a simple assent to the implication that he would use her body as payment for her crimes. And that cool nod finally popped the bubble that had muffled Hart's mind since he'd spied her. Everything he'd learned about her in the past month rushed into him like a tidal wave, sweeping his detachment away. By the time he'd recovered enough to think to pull her into his arms, Emma had walked past him.
Shaken, Hart turned and followed her toward the front of this new home she'd made for herself. At that moment, he felt sure he would have followed her anywhere if only she would give him some truth.
Chapter 21
The heart was surely not meant for this type of abuse. Emma's pulse beat madly, the same fluttering, useless speed that afflicted a captured bird. And like those birds, she was sure she would fall dead at any moment, that useless organ too overwhelmed to go on.
When his figure darkened the doorway, Emma jumped, though she'd been standing there waiting stupidly for him to appear. He had to duck to clear the lintel and so he looked that much larger when he straightened to his full height.
The door of Bess's private room creaked open; Emma heard her tentative footsteps as she came toward them through the kitchen.
