“Where are you two from?” Georgia asked Broderick.
“York,” he answered quickly.
Emmie glanced his way, wondering why he’d given her the wrong answer.
Georgia shook her head. “I have never been there. What did you say your last name was? You look very familiar to me.”
Broderick stiffened. “Worthington. But I have relatives all over England.”
She drew her silvery-brown eyebrows together in confusion. “I fear I have never met any of them.” She turned her attention to Emmie. “And what about you, my dear? What was your maiden name?”
Emmie pulled herself up slightly.Oh, good grief!Now she had to think of another lie. “Um… Snow.” Well, that wasn’t exactly a lie, since her mother’s maiden name was Snow.
Georgia opened her old brown eyes in surprise. “Snow, you say?” Emmie nodded. “Who are your parents, child?”
Quickly, Emmie thought before answering. She had told Broderick that her father was a farmer and her mother was dead. As long as she stuck with that story, she would be fine. “My mother is dead, but her name was Camilla, and my father’s name is Abner.” That wasn’t altogether a lie either, since that was her father’s middle name.
Georgia’s face fell. “Oh, I don’t know them. It’s rather strange, because I have the same last name as you.”
Emmie’s heart pounded faster as she studied the older woman. Her last name was Snow? She sat up straighter. “Indeed? That is rather strange, is it not?”
“Yes, and what is even stranger is that you resemble my daughter Daphne quite a bit. She, too, has large blue eyes, but her hair was a lighter brown.”
Daphne?Emiline caught her breath and held it. This could not be! Her mother’s name had been Daphne.
Emmie studied the older woman’s face—oval, like her mother’s had been, with eyes like her mother’s. They even twinkled the same. Could Emmie actually be talking to her maternal grandmother? The older woman did resemble the miniature Emmie had of her own mother.
All of this was too strange for her, and she tried her hardest to keep her eyes from watering with happiness.
Georgia chuckled. “However, now Daphne’s hair is almost gray because of her age, but it used to be your color.”
Emmie forgot about the blankets she clutched to her chest as numbness spread through her, and the covering slipped to her lap. Her heart stopped. If the Daphne they were discussing was indeed the same lady, that meant…
But no. It couldn’t be. Emmie’s mother had been dead for fifteen years.
“You know, I believe I have a miniature of her,” Georgia continued. “Let me go retrieve it and show you. The resemblance between the two of you is quite remarkable.” She turned and hurried out of the room.
Once Georgia had disappeared, Broderick moved the tray of food aside and wrapped his arms around Emmie. “Georgia is a sweet lady, but I wish she would leave so that we could get back to what we were doing before she came.”
He kissed Emmie’s neck, and she automatically stiffened. He withdrew, his brows pulled together in worry. Cupping her face, he turned it toward his.
“Emiline? What’s wrong?”
She couldn’t tell him. Not since she had lied to him about her identity all this time. But she had to saysomething. She was almost certain he would understand.
But no, she would keep her little secret.
“I suppose I’m just hungry.” She took a piece of cheese off the tray and brought it up to her mouth. She nibbled but didn’t taste anything.
“Are you certain that is all? You have lost all the color in your face.”
She tried to calm down, inwardly forcing herself to breathe normally, although it wasn’t working as well as she hoped. Turning toward him, she managed a small smile. “Yes. That is all it is. I assure you, I’m fine.”
His worried eyes studied her, and she knew he didn’t believe her. When his gaze rested on her lips again, his expression softened. He cupped her face, moving his thumb gently across her bottom lip.
“Do you know how much I still want to kiss you?” he whispered huskily.
This wasn’t the time. She wanted to be kissed, but she had too much on her mind right now. Her mother may still be alive. If she was, what was her reason for falsifying her death instead of being with her husband and daughter, who had needed her so desperately?
