Intertwine (37 page)

A strong burst of wind brought her back fully to the present. With alarm, Emme looked at the blackening sky. Dark clouds roiled over the trees of the surrounding forest, limbs bending and flailing.

“Truly, Emme. Look at it. Have you ever seen a green sky before?” Georgiana repeated, this time more urgently.

Emme assessed the clouds again. Yes, they were most definitely a terrifying shade of green. The kind of green that she remembered from her childhood in Denver. The kind that usually warned of a tornado.

Tornado.

Seriously? Wasn’t that a bit much?

Besides, she was wearing the locket, so nothing could happen. James’ portrait would keep her safe as it always had. Right?

A gust of wind hit them again, causing the horse to dance slightly in his harness. She tasted rain in the air and realized they would not make it back to Haldon Manor before the storm hit. Tightening her grip on the reins, Emme anxiously scanned the surrounding forest for some shelter, wanting to get Georgiana under cover. Spotting a woodcutter’s shed through the trees, she turned the gig off the main road and made for the structure.

Within just seconds, the wind picked up, whipping twigs and leaves around them. Georgiana let out a cry of alarm, covering her head with her arms to shield herself. Frustrated, Emme realized the forest would hide a tornado from them until the last possible second.

Stopping in front of the shed, Emme pulled the horse under the cantilevered roof. Quickly climbing down, she turned to help Georgiana. Emme wrenched the door open and pulled Georgiana inside, just as rain began to pelt heavily, drumming the roof, the sky opening in a torrent of water and wind. The walls shuddered.

Eyes adjusting to the dim light inside, Emme closed and latched the door. The shed was small but more or less waterproof, which was all that mattered at the moment. Emme could feel Georgiana trembling at her side. The temperature had dropped significantly, all the humidity turning into a bone-dampening chill. Georgiana doubled over in a deep hacking cough, digging a handkerchief out of a pocket.

“It’s alright, Georgiana,” Emme said in what she hoped was a soothing tone, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and holding her until the coughing fit calmed. Glancing around at the stacked wood and listening to the weather rage outside, Emme guided Georgiana to sit on a larger log wedged in one of the corners. The shack quaked as a rough burst of wind hit it.

“Heavens, what a storm!” Georgiana said with a game little smile, coughing yet again. Emme noticed the pink tinged mucous on her handkerchief.

“Sorry,” Georgiana muttered. “Wind always seems to aggravate my cough. At least we managed to stay dry.”

Emme nodded. And then she heard something on the wind.

The sound she had been dreading.

Like a freight train. Just as it was always described.

“What is that terrible noise?” Georgiana asked, her eyes widening with alarm.

“Get down! Protect your head!” Emme called, pushing Georgiana to the ground, throwing her own body on top, covering her.

Emme heard the roar. Her ears popped painfully, as air was sucked from her lungs. The shed groaned and shrieked.

The hut exploded around them, the powerful fury of the tornado raking her skin. The wind whipped her around, wrenching Georgiana away. Pelting rain instantly soaked her. Emme felt wind born debris stinging her skin. Something clubbed her in the chest, knocking the breath out of her and throwing her to the ground. She instantly curled into a ball, instinctively covering her head.

The whole event took just seconds and then the tempest receded, traveling away from them. Gasping for breath, Emme pushed herself up. She seemed okay. Looking at her arms, she could see small cuts from flying debris, but a quick flex of muscles and bones convinced her that she had, amazingly, suffered no real harm.

But where was Georgiana?

Rain poured from the sky, making it hard to see.

“Georgiana!” she called, lurching to her feet.

Brushing water out of her eyes, Emme spotted Georgiana’s crumpled form a short distance away. Stumbling over debris, Emme reached Georgiana’s side. Breathed a sigh of relief to see her move, to hear her moan.

“Georgiana? Can you hear me?” Crouching next to her, Emme quickly tried to assess the damage, feeling through Georgiana’s sodden clothing. There were no obvious cuts or wounds. Georgiana opened her eyes, staring into Emme’s.

“Good heavens!” Her voice was hoarse and weak. A terrible cough cut through her and she shivered uncontrollably. Emme wrapped an arm around her.

“W-what ha-p-pened?” Georgiana chattered through clenched teeth.

“It was a tornado. You’re freezing. We need to get you back to Haldon Manor before you catch your death. How do you feel?”

“C-c-c-cold.”

“I don’t see any wounds.” Emme placed an arm around Georgiana’s shoulders and helped her stand. However, as soon as Georgiana put weight on her right foot, she cried out in agony and sagged against Emme.

“M-my ankle,” she said in anguish.

Gently helping Georgiana to sit down, Emme pushed back Georgiana’s skirts to inspect her ankle encased in a tight half boot. Emme immediately realized the boot probably provided some much needed support and stability. So instead of removing it, she gently pressed along the outside. No response. However, Georgiana moaned in pain when Emme took her ankle and rotated it in the boot. The ankle was definitely sprained, if not broken.

Sighing, she acknowledged that Georgiana could not walk back to Haldon Manor. Emme looked around, trying to see what had become of their horse and gig, but the driving rain was nearly blinding. Georgiana curled herself into a ball on the ground, coughs wracking her body.

“Come, let’s get you out of this rain,” Emme said, kneeling back beside Georgiana.

Later, Emme wouldn’t remember exactly how she managed to half carry Georgiana to the shelter of some trees that were still standing. Georgiana’s shivering became even more pronounced, and Emme held her close, hoping that the warmth of her own body would help. Georgiana coughed until Emme feared she couldn’t breathe, her inhalations sounding heavy and labored.

The rain let up somewhat, changing into a steady drizzle. Emme considered leaving Georgiana and going for help. But she was hopelessly turned around. The road had vanished under a layer of debris. She worried she would not be able to locate Haldon Manor and then find Georgiana again.

How long before someone came looking for them?

Georgiana’s shivering abated slightly, which Emme initially thought to be a good thing. But Georgiana became lethargic and sleepy. Terrified, Emme realized that she was actually slipping deeper into hypothermia. If she fell asleep, she might not wake up.

Hugging her closer, Emme said, “Don’t you dare fall asleep on me, Georgiana! You must stay awake. Sleep could mean death.”

“I’m so sleepy,” Georgiana whispered. “So tired.”

“Fight, Georgiana. Don’t give up!”

“Why? Death will claim me soon enough. Why continue to fight the inevitable? I am so tired, Emme. So very tired.”

A chill coursed through Emme. She had to do something. Anything.

Scrambling for something to keep her attention, Emme said, “I lied last week. At Sir Henry’s ball. I’m not a spy.”

She felt Georgiana’s surprise. Though not quite the way she wanted to tell Georgiana, it most certainly served its purpose. Georgiana was instantly more alert.

Georgiana paused for a moment. “Does James know?”

“Yes, James knows. We . . . we lied because the truth is more complicated.”

“More complicated than assisting Princess Pepsi of Toyota Camry while being hunted by the French spy Buick Chevrolet?” Georgiana’s voice communicated her disbelief.

Emme laughed. She couldn’t help it.

“Yes, Georgie, it truly is. Even worse than being a spy. You probably won’t believe me, but it is a tale you will relish—full of mystery and even a touch of the supernatural.”

Georgiana’s eyes widened, though Emme couldn’t tell if it was from shock or excitement. “Tell me,” she whispered after a moment. “Tell me the truth.”

And so Emme did. She told her about airplanes and cars and television. About jeans and lip gloss and penicillin.

To Emme’s relief, Georgiana stayed awake through it all, asking eager questions. Particularly about antibiotics and the very real chance that if she traveled the portal with them, she could be cured.

“So you see, you must fight to live because there truly is hope,” Emme said when Georgiana drooped with weariness. “You have everything to live for.”

“To live,” Georgiana coughed. And then coughed again. “To have my future back. That would be so wonderful. Would it hurt? This 21st century medicine?”

“No . . . well, it might hurt a tiny bit as they would probably need to give you an IV, but it would feel like a pin prick.”

“Is that all? So little?”

“Well, the needle is somewhat large, so it would be a large pin prick, but, yes, that is all. Though you would most likely be treated at a hospital, not in your own home. And the hospitals can be somewhat cold. Lots of white.”

Georgiana smiled wearily. “I would be okay with that.”

After hours of sitting huddled on the ground, Emme heard shouts. Releasing Georgiana, Emme climbed stiffly to her feet, yelling back. She almost wept with relief when she saw Arthur and several other men coming through the torn and battered trees toward them.

“Praise be to God!” Arthur exclaimed. “We had almost despaired of finding you alive!” In a matter of seconds, Georgiana was wrapped in blankets and carried to a waiting horse.

Arthur turned to Emme, unfolding a blanket to wrap around her shoulders too. And then he paused, looking at her upper chest in surprise.

Emme glanced down and for the first time noticed that something had hit her there, ripping through her pelisse and the walking dress underneath. Gingerly brushing her fingers over her sternum, she realized there was no wound in her skin. Instead, her hand came away with James’ locket.

Mangled. Shattered.

Something sharp had penetrated it, destroying the outer case and its inscription. Splintering the portrait on the ivory panel. Stopping at last at the cracked back case, fracturing the intertwined initials, but not penetrating them.

Saving Emme.

Shaking for the first time since the tornado hit, Emme covered her mouth, refusing to allow her sob to escape. Grateful for Arthur’s considerate arm around her shoulders.

Chapter 30

Haldon Manor

Georgiana’s bedroom

Two days later

July 13, 1812

S
he still breathes?”

Emme looked up as Arthur entered. It was more of a question than a statement.

Late afternoon sunlight slanted through the window, its warmth mocking the chilled clamminess of Georgiana’s pale skin.

Emme nodded her head. “But for how long, I wonder. Her condition is serious.”

They still hadn’t heard from James. Arthur had sent multiple messages to him in London, but too little time had passed. It was still several days before he could reasonably be expected to return home, even if he rode all night.

And the locket. Emme had held it tightly in her hand after returning to Haldon Manor. Seeing such an old friend mangled and maimed had been painful.

Its shattering troubled her. Was the destruction of the locket a symbol of something more? Though she pushed negative thoughts from her mind, they kept returning. Whispering treacherous things. Would she ever see James again?

And then there was Georgiana. For two days, she had lain wracked by fever, slowly weakening. Fading before Emme’s eyes.

The doctor had come and gone. Georgiana’s ankle was badly sprained but not broken. However, the cold and wet had deeply affected her lungs, leaving her cough rasping. Georgiana struggled to suck in each breath, air wheezing. The doctor recommended bleeding as a cure but had backed down in the face of Emme’s fury.

Instead, Emme had been carefully giving Georgiana ibuprofen from her first aid kit when no one was looking. The pain killer seemed to lessen the swelling in her lungs and definitely helped abate the fever. But it was not enough. It just eased Georgiana’s symptoms. There was nothing in Emme’s purse that could help the underlying cause.