The words steadied him, simple and true. He repeated them, slower.
“Nay one will harm her or try to take her from me. Nae while I still draw breath.”
He closed the window, bolted it, and turned back to the bed. The sheets were untouched, the pillow smooth. He sat on the edge and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
He meant what he had said with every fiber of his being. Even now, as he settled into the bed, his resolve solidified further.
No one would ever touch Emma.
No one would ever take her from him.
Not while he still lived.
CHAPTER 23
Two Days Until Her Decision
A sliverof morning light spilled across the chamber, thin and cool. Emma lay still and listened to the low crackle of the fire. The silence made last night feel like it never happened, yet the small book on the bedside table did not let her forget.
Tales of Eve.
She should have left the damned book in the library. She should have refused to take it when he handed it to her. Yet here it was, a stark reminder of the fact that everything that had happened in the library last nighthadhappened.
Her face grew warm as she reached for it, then drew back when a knock sounded at her door.
“Who is it?”
Lara slipped in with towels and a steaming basin. She set them on the washstand and bobbed a curtsy. “Good morning, me Lady. I thought ye’d still be sleeping. I didnae expect ye to respond when I knocked.”
“Sleep wasnae easy,” Emma admitted.
“Shall I draw ye a bath, me Lady?”
“Aye. That will help a lot.”
Lara nodded, after which she wrung out a cloth and set out fresh towels. Her eyes paused on the book, then flickered away. She asked about breakfast and the time for dressing.
Emma gave short answers, unable to think about anything other than the book that burned a hole in her bedside table. A part of her was certain that she had not caught some of the things Lara had said.
When the bath was ready, Lara stepped back. “Will ye be needing anything else?”
“Nay, thank ye.”
When the door closed, steam rose from the bathtub and fogged the air. Emma walked into the bath, sank into the water, and let the heat seep into her skin. She tried to think of simple things—the day’s tasks, the market the women had mentioned. She even tried to think of the food the kitchens might serve them laterthat afternoon. Anything to avoid thinking about what actually bothered her.
She tried not to picturehishands on her waist, or the way his voice had turned rough. The memory, however, did not obey her. It drifted closer, like the suds in the bathtub, until she pushed it away again.
“Damn ye, Jack Barkley,” she whispered a few minutes later as she stepped out of the bath.
She dried herself fast and wrapped herself up in a towel. The air felt cool on her damp skin, and the book still waited on the table. Without thinking twice, she grabbed it and shoved it in a drawer. She couldn’t deal with the thoughts in her headandthe book on her table. If she couldn’t see it, perhaps she would not be able to think of it.
After wearing the dress Lara had laid out earlier, she opened the door to her room and stepped out into the corridor
From the far end, she could hear a soft laugh, low and warm. It wasn’t a woman’s laugh, and she hated how quickly she recognized it.
It washim.
She hesitated, then followed the sound to the nursery.
