Intertwine (38 page)

After two sleepless nights, Emme realized Georgiana was dying. Her friend lay so still under the covers, her breathing labored. Something wet rattled in her chest, her weakened body not strong enough to fight off the infection that now raged.

Helplessly, Emme sat and watched her friend struggle to breathe.

“Perhaps she will pull through.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair, so reminiscent of his brother.

Emme’s lungs tightened.

She shook her head. They both knew that was not likely.

Georgiana lay unconscious as she had been for the last day, so thin and frail. Her skin a terrifying shade of grey-white, breathing shallow and harsh. Suddenly she convulsed, coughing raspy and deep, curling into a ball. Emme held a handkerchief to her mouth, noting the blood on it. How much longer could Georgiana hold on?

Arthur stared stonily throughout the incident. At a loss.

Emme swallowed, turning back to him, and took a deep breath. Faced her options.

There really was only one answer at this point.

She made a decision. The decision that James would make if he were in her situation.

“Arthur,” she said firmly, raising her eyes to his and holding them. “I lied to you last week in Sir Henry’s library. I am not a spy. But I can save Georgiana. However, I will need your help to do so.”

In the end, it was fairly easy to convince Arthur. After the initial shock and outrage, Emme pulled out her purse. It took less than five minutes with her phone and tablet to make Arthur believe her. Surprisingly easy, all things considered.

He apologized for thinking the worst of her. Emme merely gave a quiet, sad laugh and forgave him. She then proceeded to explain about antibiotics and the near-surety of Georgiana’s cure if they were able to travel the portal. Arthur’s eyes bulged from his head as he dashed from the room, racing to find a stretcher to transport his sister.

While Arthur had a wagon prepared to move Georgiana, Emme slipped into James’ study and sat at his desk. She paused for a moment, thinking. Then, she pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote:

She folded the letter and wrapped it around the remains of the broken locket. She packed everything into her purse and gently left it on his desk, her note nestled inside. She only retained her phone, stuffed into her stays.

Arthur drove them quietly through the fading light to the meadow, tense and silent by her side. Georgiana’s arduous breathing came from the wagon bed behind.

“You really think this will work?” he asked quietly.

“Yes. It truly is our last hope.”

“And why can’t I come too?”

Emme sighed. This was at least the tenth time he had asked this question.

“What would you do there, Arthur? How would your presence help?”

“I could protect my sister. Ensure that she receives the proper attention.”

“That will happen regardless. Besides you have Marianne and your life here. Even if you were able to come with us, there is no guarantee you could come back. I don’t think that you would much like life in the 21st century.”

He merely grunted.

“What if the portal doesn’t work?” he said again after a few more moments.

He really was persistent.

“As I said, that is a real possibility. If it doesn’t work, at least we tried. I could not sit and watch Georgiana die and not do something. I couldn’t forgive myself. I couldn’t expect James to forgive me.”

Arthur nodded his head in agreement.

“But our need is great,” she continued. “And our lives intertwined, so perhaps it will work.”

“What if you never see James again?”

Emme choked back a sob. Thinking of him. Her premonition over the shattered locket.

“I trust he will find a way,” she whispered. And then more emphatically, “We will find a way.”

Arriving in the meadow, she helped Arthur lift the still unconscious Georgiana from the bed of the wagon and followed as he carried his sister the last few steps to the portal. The meadow was quiet and still.

Waiting. Expectant.

Arthur stood before the sawn off trunk, its dark interior still yawning. Emme felt the same heaviness she had experienced in the past. The same tingling along her arms.

“Thank you, Arthur Knight,” she said, looking him in the eye. “If I never see you again, thank you for all that you have done. Tell James that I love him. And make sure he gets the note I left.”

Arthur nodded. “I will. I promise. And for your part, please take care of my Georgiana. Keep her safe. I give her to your care.” He kissed his sister’s cheek. “Adieu.”

“Here,” Emme whispered, “stand her up against me. I can support her.”

Arthur slowly lowered Georgiana, resting her feet against the ground. Georgiana groaned. Emme sagged slightly as Georgiana’s full weight hit her, but wrapping an arm around her waist, Emme was able to keep them both upright.

Taking a deep breath, Emme stepped forward and placed a foot into the wide space cut into the trunk. The electrical tingling became stronger, the tug more insistent. The hair on her arms stood on end as the hum of some invisible current coursed through her.

Suddenly, something pulled her forward. Insistent. Almost greedy.

Vertigo and blackness took her.

Duir Cottage

The basement

A few moments later

July 13, 2012

Emme blinked in the darkness and sank to the ground, using all her strength to lower Georgiana gently. She could hear the low rumble of a voice. Could see a sliver of light above her head that must be from the trap door. Georgiana moaned, her breath rasping.

“Help!” Emme called. It seemed the easiest way to get attention. “Help me!”

She heard a thump of movement and the scramble of steps. She didn’t know who was up there, but she figured after everything that had happened, she could probably deal with it.

Emme fumbled in the dark, trying to free her phone from her stays. But it was difficult with Georgiana half lying on her.

After a few seconds, she heard the trapdoor moving and light poured down the steep stairs, illuminating her and Georgiana.

A head gazed down at her, blocking some of the light.

An extremely familiar head with dark curling hair and a stunned look of surprise.

There she was, sprawled on the dirt floor, clad in a high-waisted Empire dress, covered in a pelisse. A straw chip bonnet on her head. A blond woman wrapped in a dressing gown and blanket, half dead and gasping across her chest.

“What the hell?”

Emme would know his shocked voice anywhere.

“What are you doing down here? Where have you been?” Marc scrambled down the steps to kneel beside her, shaking his head as he looked her over.

“Were you captured by Jane Austen bandits and held captive for the last two months?” he continued. “I swear, Emme, you will be the death of me! Even by your disaster standards, this is truly impressive.”

“Marc!” Emme cried, relief pouring through her. “Oh, Marc!” She hiccupped, fighting back sobs, grabbing his arm. “Please call an ambulance! We have so little time and Georgiana is dying!”

Chapter 31

Duir Cottage

Nearly two months later

September 15, 2012

W
ill it ever get any easier?” Georgiana said softly from the passenger seat. “This not knowing is unbearable.”

Emme sighed as she pulled into the driveway, turning off the BMW. Duir Cottage still looked charming. Perhaps even more so with autumn beginning to creep in.

Grimacing, Emme looked over at Georgiana.

“I honestly don’t know.” Emme sucked in a deep, weary breath, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on Georgiana’s arm.

Georgiana had been released from the hospital nearly three weeks earlier. They had just returned from the doctor who had given her a clean bill of health. She would need to maintain her antibiotic regimen for the next six months to guard against a relapse, but she was no longer quarantined.

Georgiana was lucky. She had received treatment just in time, the doctors said. Even another day and she would have been beyond help. But her tuberculosis had responded well to the antibiotics, surprising everyone.

Emme had tested positive for latent tuberculosis, but as the bacteria wasn’t active in her system, she had only needed to take antibiotics for a of couple weeks. Grateful to not be quarantined. Again.

“Let’s go see what Marc has made us for dinner, shall we? He knows how much you love chow mein.” Emme grabbed her phone and purse and then paused as Georgiana made no immediate move to get out of the car. Instead, she sat frozen, furiously blinking back tears.

“What if he doesn’t come?” Georgiana whispered, turning her watery blue eyes to Emme—eyes so like her brother’s. Emme’s heart constricted painfully.

“He will. We just have to have faith—”

“But that entry we found—” Georgiana hiccupped and covered her mouth, trying to shove all her worry back.

Emme exhaled haltingly and moved her hand to Georgiana’s shoulder, rubbing it gently. How many times had they had this conversation over the past month?

Once Georgiana had recovered enough to be coherent, she had insisted they search out what had happened to Arthur and James. Emme had quickly found record of Arthur and Marianne’s wedding in the Marfield parish registry and then subsequent information indicating that Arthur had inherited Haldon Manor.

But finding anything about James had proved challenging. There had only been a snippet inserted between baptism records in the parish registry.

The honorable James Knight, 31, late of Haldon Manor, deceased in a carriage accident.

Emme’s heart still clenched. The words emblazoned in her mind, seared permanently. Dancing before her eyes almost every second of every day. Taunting her. Challenging her to believe them.

There had been no date associated with the entry, though the baptisms before and after it were from July 1812. Had James been killed while rushing back to Georgiana’s bedside?

Emme swallowed, forcing her emotions away. She refused to give up hope.

“He’ll come. He will,” Emme repeated firmly. “Remember, the entry was squeezed between the registry lines and written in a different hand. The vicar still isn’t sure if it’s contemporary to July 1812 or added later. And even if it is legitimate, the carriage accident could just be a cover for James to come forward in time. We must have faith, Georgie.”