She didn’t hope as much, but she wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to see what that dagger was really about. She tried to look casually interested as her host unlocked his cabinet and stepped back.
“There you are, lass. Let’s see if you notice anything I haven’t.”
Well, for all she knew about it, the thing just looked like a regular piece of metal. It was pretty, true, but she couldn’t imagine why just seeing it would send Nathaniel into such a tailspin.
“The date is interesting,” the man said. “1387. Etched right there, isn’t it?”
Indeed, it was. She felt the world shift in a very strange way, almost as if she had been looking at it expecting it to be one thing, then a film had been drawn back and she saw it in an entirely different way.
She wondered if she might be losing her mind.
“Would you like to hold it?” the man said. “Not often we see a piece of history this old, aye?” He lifted the dagger off what she could now see were very thin wires suspended from the top of the case, then held it out toward her. “There you are, gel.”
Time slowed. That was perhaps an even odder sensation than what she’d experienced before. She reached out toward the dagger, but it seemed to take forever—
“Emma, no—”
She paused, then looked back over her shoulder. She didn’t remember Nathaniel having been there. She half wondered how he’d gotten inside, but Mr. Campbell hadn’t locked the front door, had he? How had Nathaniel known where to find her?
Maybe he was a better tracker than she’d given him credit for being.
She looked back at that dagger there in front of her. Its current owner was holding it with two hands. It couldn’t have been heavy, so it must have been precious—
“Emma!”
She waved Nathaniel off, over her shoulder because she didn’t want to bother with the effort of looking at him. She was on a mission and her business was in front of her. No sense in squandering energy that could be put to better use. She stretched out her hand and touched the hilt of the blade.
Her world exploded.
She released the weapon immediately, just so she didn’t fall over and somehow land on top of the sharp part. She supposed she should have listened to Nathaniel, but it was too late and she had apparently been too stubborn.
She felt arms go around her and break her fall. She would have thanked her rescuer, but she was too busy trying not to lose her breakfast. It was no wonder Nathaniel looked so green when he encountered something that unsettled him.
1387. What in the hell did that mean?
She had absolutely no idea how long it took for her head toeven begin to clear. When she finally became aware of her surroundings again, she realized she was sitting in Nathaniel’s lap, cradled in his arms, as he sat on that chair where he’d sat for so long earlier that morning. He’d looked at the time as if he were on the verge of puking his guts out.
She understood, totally.
“Emma?”
She lifted her head off his shoulder and looked at him blearily. “I’m fine.”
“Drink.”
She wasn’t sure what it was, but it was absolutely disgusting. Whisky, perhaps. Her eyes watered madly and she coughed, but she felt almost instantly better. She pushed the glass away and sat up a bit.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re such a lightweight,” he said dryly.
She found it in her to look at him narrowly. “Don’t think that little Brooklyn twang to your words is going to get you anywhere with me,” she managed. “That was vile.”
He sipped, then laughed a little. “I’d have to agree, but I won’t offend our host there by telling him as much. He’s worried enough about you that I think he was ready to call for a nurse.”
“Oh, let’s go before he does.”
He didn’t move, though, and neither did she. She hesitated, then leaned her head back against his shoulder. He didn’t hesitate; he put his arms back around her and then began to run his hand over her hair. She closed her eyes and wondered what he was up to. Whatever it was, she had the feeling it wasn’t anything she wanted to get involved in. If she had any sense at all, she would leap up and run like hell.
