Page 31 of Emma & Edmund

Emma barely managed to contain her groan. While she had hoped to circumnavigate the full instruction, when asked directly, she couldn't lie. Not when he had trusted her with so much.

So, she told him of the interaction in its entirety. From the moment she began, his face never veered from inscrutable. Alternatively, although her time with the fortune teller was quite brief, Emma could barely contain her guffaw at the woman's instructions even as she retold them.

"The solution seems obvious," Edmund said studiously when Emma's retelling reached its finale. "We must obey to the letter."

"That's impossible!"

"I'm sorry Miss Emma, but the message was quite clear. We both must go."

"You're out of your mind, Edmund Lockhart," Emma admonished as she bolted off the couch, pacing before the fire with protective arms crossed over her chest. "How in the heavens am I to go to a pub?"

"How in the heavens am I able to? We will figure out a solution together."

"There isn't one, Edmund!" Emma almost forgot where they were for a moment, with occupied bedrooms on the other side of the walls. "I'm well on my way to burying my reputation as is, I cannot be seen in such a place."

Edmund's face softened to something even more dangerous for her resolve. Rising, he was before her in two swift steps, clasping her by the upper arms. The warmth of his palms seeped through the silk of her dress.

For the briefest moment, she was back on the dance floor of her dreams, and her body melted into his touch before she remembered herself.

"I have asked so much of you, Emma. And I know you have given me more help than I could have dreamed. But I cannot do this without you. I won't have the strength. I've never been to a pub before, never been farther than the grounds of the estate. I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid, but I have never had as much hope as I have now. I need your help just one more time. Please. I needyou."

In the deep pools of his black, otherworldly eyes, she saw the tears of desperation. She saw the sheen of hope, backed by the glimmer of doubt.

But beyond all that, no one had ever said they needed her before. Before she met him, her existence was business-as-usual, planned and executed to a template she had no hand in creating.

Edmund was anything but usual, and his wholly unusual being was begging for her help. What she could possibly offer in that regard, she wasn't certain, but she knew she couldn't deny him. Couldn't even try.

"Edmund Lockhart, you will be the death of me."

While the trepidation did not dissipate, the way the smile spread across his mossy cheeks almost turned her knees to butter. Only the support of his grasp kept her upright.

It became even worse when he pulled her into his solid chest, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Only one man had grabbed her like that before, and the disgust from that time still stirred deep in her, forcing her to constantly bat it away. No such disgust bloomed now.

"I owe you my life, Emma Thompson."

"Say that to me once you're able to join your own party." Finally pushing away, Emma stared into the fire, hoping the glow would hide her unwanted blush.

Despite her aversion to looking at him, Edmund took her by the chin, tilting her head to his, eyes boring into her. "At the very least then, I owe you my very first dance."

Chapter 9

Hidden by a plush layer of moss, the path was half gone, and barely winning the battle where it remained. A rising harvest moon, so bright and warm as it was, cast long shadows through the gnarled old trees, intertwining over Emma's head.

She wasn't quite sure why she was walking along the lonely, forgotten path at such an hour, but it didn't stop the hum on her lips and the spring in her step.

Emma didn't need to look behind her to know she was being followed. Rather than fear, pride filled her as the follower traced her every move.Shewas the one who led him;shewas the one who had captured his attention.

The further they walked, the more entangled the branches around her became, scraping at her skin and hiding the moonlight, but still fear never came.

A need deep in her gut pulled her along, to reach an unseen destination that she knew was only a bit further ahead, just beyond the wall of trees.

In the dense thicket, she felt her follower draw in close. His heavy breathing beat down the back of her neck, her skirts swept across his feet. Emma's very skin tingled in anticipation.

But no, not yet. They weren't quite there yet.

Swooping in from behind, a strong wind whipped through the trees, making the branches groan, casting the loose curls of Emma's hair this way and that. It was so strong in fact, that as the wind pressed against the branch-made wall, the blackened barrier creaked open as a door would.

Golden light washed over the crumbling path, illuminating the dark ferns and grasses of the secret garden beyond.