Page 41 of Emma & Edmund

"Have you considered," Edmund drawled, pushing her drink closer to her, "I can accomplish several worldly desires in a single evening."

There was no tilt to his words, no predatory glint that would come with the natural suggestion, but Emma swallowed hard, nonetheless. It was only made worse when flashes of her dream, the memory of being held in his arms, his kiss, his touch, flooded her mind.

No, she forcibly reminded herself, not him. It was nothing more than a dream and had nothing to do with the man sitting across from her.

Emma drowned any lingering tingles of enticement with a full gulp, wiping her mouth as she continued, "You've dreamed of spending a night in the pub?"

"Have you not?" He countered quickly. "You'll probably never visit one again after tonight. Can you tell me that, should you never have met me, and I never begged for your help, if you were allowed to come here, you wouldn't have taken it?"

"I don't know how to answer that," Emma ran her finger along the rim of her cup. "I might think a bit harder about my disguise, though, if given another chance."

"Oh, come! Every soul here has been convinced-"

"Oh yes, everyone besides the barmaid."

"Blessed be!" A new voice joined the pair only moments before a half empty mug clattered on their table, belonging to the gaunt, dirty face of another patron. "You're a giant! Where are you from? What do they feed you?"

"Charlie, leave them be-"

"Boys, do you see this? A lad of this size should join the town guard!" Charlie called to his companions, wholly unaware of how Edmund went ramrod straight at his intrusion, how his hands clutched into tight fists. If Emma could see his face, she imagined his lips would be set in a fine line, sloping over his protruding teeth and matching the crease in his brow. She could feel the unease rolling off him.

"Why the mask?" The rude Charlie continued, even as a companion came to fetch him, leaning in far too close to Edmund's covered face.

"Victim of a burning, I'm afraid," Emma spewed without a thought, earning the shocked attention of all parties. "Fire took his tongue too. You're asking for answers from a mute."

Charlie looked between the two of them with an abashed blush.

"Charlie, let's go."

Charlie shook off the man who came to retrieve him. "I just saw you talking' between the two of you. Just a minute ago, I swear!"

"As traveling companions, we have naturally developed our ways of communication," Emma continued to lie smoothly, folding her hands around her cup.

"Charles Jacob Brindley!" It took nothing more than a few well-placed shoves for Rose to stomp up to their table. "You leave these people alone."

"But I-"

"Now!"

Throughout their exchange, Emma threw her face into her hands. While it was easy to see Rose meant well enough, her interference brought them the exact attention she had feared. More than a few tables and benches had turned their eyes to the noisy group.

"At least let me apologize!" Charlie continued, even as Rose hooked his arm and began to drag him away, shouting back at Emma and Edmund, "Next round is on my tab!"

And as quickly as the storm of scrutiny formed around their table, it dissipated again. Conversations and clatter that had paused resumed, no longer interested in the pair of odd travelers. Daring a glance away from her palms, Emma saw the table of gentry had hardly even noticed the commotion, if the quickly growing pile of discarded cups and cutlery were anything to judge by.

"Thank Heaven that's over," Emma sighed, hoping to wash the shaking of her hands away with a rather large gulp of ale.

Edmund had not moved since they were accosted, his hands still clenched on the table, his breath coming out in puffs.

"Edmund? Are you all right?"

"You should not have to do that."

"Oh," Emma's face fell, not having considered he could be upset at her actions. "I didn't mean any harm by it. I was just trying to send them away as quickly as possible."

"No no, not that," Edmund said, waving a hand in the air as if to shoo the notion off, "I mean as I said, you shouldn't have to do it. Although I am grateful, no lady should have to defend a gentleman as much as you do on my behalf."

"And no gentlemen," Emma countered, pointing a finger at him, words and gestures loosened by drink, "should have to hide in the woods from his own party."

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