His Beautiful Wench (29 page)

Amelia shook her head. “No, but thanks for the offer. I need some time to think, get all this out of my head.” She paused, then, “And I should really check that basement.”

“D’you think the jewels will be there?”

“If they are, I might have a heart attack. If they are, it means—”

“Everything we dreamed was true.” Matilda smiled. “Shit. This is crazy.” An uneasy laugh tinkled out of her. “Come on. I’ll let you out the back way. The alley will take you to the road by the copse.” She unlocked the door and stepped aside to let Matilda walk through. “You’ll call me if anything happens, right?”

Amelia squeezed her friend’s arm. “I will. And you do the same.”

Taking a deep breath, Amelia strode down the alley, her mind sifting through recent events. It freaked her that Graham and Fields had turned up, as did Matilda having similar dreams. Was Turner’s Point some kind of portal for the past to seep through? She shook her head and concentrated on the task ahead. Legs heavy, she walked through the forest, her steps leaden as the incline increased. As she stepped onto the grassy clifftop, she stopped to survey her cottage and imagined it with the extra rooms on the side. Maybe if she earned enough with her tutoring she could afford to restore the place to its former glory. She could save for a few years. The renovations would be worth it.

Or if I find the jewels…

She sighed and pressed on, wanting nothing more than a hot coffee and a soak in the tub.

Inside the cottage, she filled the kettle and flicked the switch for it to boil. Despite her fatigue from the ordeal in the shop, she collected her flashlight and walked into the laundry room. The basement seemed to call to her. Flashlight on, she descended the steps and made straight for the large water barrel. This time, no water filled it. Dragging it across the floor, she hunkered down in front of the wall and positioned the flashlight on the floor so the beam splashed light onto the bricks. She reached out a hand and brushed her fingertips over the rough surface, stopping when she encountered a brick that jutted out farther than the rest. It had clearly been removed from the wall at some point—the concrete was attached only to the edges of the loose brick. Amelia wedged her fingers behind the concrete and worked the brick free, heart hammering, butterflies dancing in her belly.

There won’t be anything there. You’re just hoping there is so you can confirm you’re not nuts.

The brick came away with a rattle of loose debris and she placed it on the floor. Picking up the flashlight, she aimed the beam into the hole. A cobweb complete with a fat brown spider barred her entry. She shuddered and bit her lower lip, looking around to see if there was anything to hand she could use to clear the web and its occupant away. Seeing nothing, she took off her shoe and jabbed it into the hole, rearing back with a squeal as the spider scuttled into the wall’s depths.

Just look inside.

She lowered her head and turned it to the side, breaths heavy. A tiny space lay beyond the opening and right at the back she spied a dusty pouch.

Oh Jesus Christ. It looks like the same one…

Breath held, she shoved her hand into the hole and grabbed the pouch, praying the spider didn’t crawl onto her skin. What felt like jewels jingled inside. Nervous and excited, Amelia stood, slipped on her shoe, and took the stairs two at a time, grateful to be back in her kitchen. Quickly, she flicked off the flashlight and fumbled with the pouch strings, emptying the contents onto the table.

Jewels winked back at her, the sunlight streaming through the window bouncing off their surfaces. Her knees grew weak. She gripped the table edge and lowered herself into a chair, gaze on the jewels, mind in another time, another Turner’s Point that still had the love of her life in it. Cursing the sting of tears, she stood abruptly, shoved the jewels back into the pouch and slid them in her jeans pocket. She made a coffee, then telephoned Matilda.

“They’re here,” she said, voice low and controlled. “The jewels are here.”

“Oh my God! I was just about to call you. I’ve seen something from the past too.”

A stout knock on the front door had Amelia loosing a loud yell and jumping back from the kitchen doorway. She took a deep breath, praying that this crazy shit wouldn’t start up again and she’d open the door to one of Graham’s men, their faces the same but their clothing modern.

“Someone’s at the door,” she said, walking down the short hallway and into the living room. “Wait on the line, all right?”

“Okay. Just open it. I’m here if you need me.”

Amelia moved toward the front door.
Stop it. Just open the damn thing and send whoever it is away. But what if it’s the police about Graham?
Her stomach churned again and her heart faltered, stopping for a beat before resuming with a speedy cadence.

A figure stood behind the glass, the outline one she would never forget. Her breath caught in her throat and a surge of pure happiness swept from her feet to her head. Mind fuzzy, heart fluttering, she moved closer to the door. Tears burned her eyes, and despite knowing how crazy this all was, despite what it would sound like to other people if she told them, she knew who stood on the other side of that door.

“It’s okay, Matilda. It’s someone I know.” She cut the call and placed the phone on the stairs then wrenched open the door.

He stood there, hand poised to knock once more, then lowered it to his side. A dark gray suit covered his trim body and chest hairs poked out the V of a white T-shirt. That grin she knew and loved tweaked his lips and his brow quirked as though he found something amusing. Luscious black hair framed his face and she stared, speechless, her whole being screaming to reach out and touch it, touch
him
. Emotion filled her, swamped her until her legs and arms weakened and she lost sight of him as tears blurred her eyes.

Dear God, but I want to press myself against him. Feel his arms around me. His hands in my hair, on my face, on my…

“Oh, thank goodness I’ve found you,” he said then frowned. “Are you all right?”

Amelia swallowed the lump in her throat, her cheeks flushing, burning. “Yes, yes. Please excuse me. I’m rather emotional at the moment. I’ve just moved here.” She indicated her living room. “I still have so much to do and I…”

His full smile almost undid her and he gazed at her, head cocked, as if he’d seen her somewhere before. His lips begged for her to kiss them and the memory of how they felt against hers further warmed her cheeks.

“Would you mind if I said something bold?” he asked, resting one hand on the doorjamb. “I wouldn’t usually, but…”

Amelia shook her head, drinking in his dear face, that bow of his lips. “No. That’s fine. You can say anything to me, anything at all…”

“Well, to quote my father, I’d like to say, my, but you’re a beautiful wench.”

Her head spun and she staggered backward, hand to her chest, pulse thudding in her ears. Righting herself, she said, “Sorry about that.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” His frown deepened and he put out a hand.

Amelia took it and electricity shot up her arm, infusing her with raw heat that whispered she’d found the other half of her soul. The dreams, the past, it all flooded into her mind and she recalled Emmett’s words again. How they would never be apart. How he would find her, no matter what. She looked at him. His eyes widened and he smiled, showing the perfect teeth she adored.

“Whoa! That’s quite some static there. Have you been laying carpet?” He laughed, rich and throaty, but didn’t release her hand.

“Uh, no. Sorry. Umm, may I ask what you wanted?”

Does it matter what he wants?

His cheeks flushed and he let go of her hand to scratch his head. “I, uh, I heard you’re a piano teacher. I’d like some lessons. It took ages for me to find you. I haven’t lived here long and I searched and searched, and then a woman in town pointed me in this direction. Said to say Matilda had sent me. You know her?”

Amelia stifled a gasp. “Yes, yes, I know her.” She shook her head. “How rude of me. Please, would you like to come in? You’ll have to excuse the mess,” she said, stepping back. “I have so much to do it isn’t funny, and I must get it done before my new piano arrives.”

He walked in and she closed the door, leading him into the kitchen, the desire to laugh and dance sweeping through her.

“What happened to your back door?” he asked.

He can see that?
“Oh, some jerk broke the glass.”

“I see. An ex-boyfriend? An intruder?”

“Oh no! No! I meant to say the wind jerked it closed and the glass broke.”

“And you slept up here, in the middle of nowhere, with those wood slats as your only protection?”

“Umm, yes.”

He shook his head, concern clouding his eyes. “Want me to fix it?”

“Oh, I don’t want you to go to any trouble…”

“It’s no trouble.” He glanced around the room, one finger pressed to his lips. “How long have you got before your piano arrives?”

I’m not even sure what day it is!
“It comes Wednesday.”

“Tomorrow then. Well…” He sighed and looked around some more. “You want some help unpacking?”

She smiled. “That’s… That’s not necessary. I couldn’t possibly expect you—”

“Sure you could. We can get to know one another before you begin teaching me. It won’t be so embarrassing then when I make mistakes.”

His grin lit up her soul.

Helena’s voice whispered in her mind.
Don’t fight it, Amelia. He’s been searching for a long time…

“Would you like some coffee, uh… I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name,” she said, reveling in his company, his strong presence, praying he would say yes.

“I
would
like some coffee, and I didn’t tell you my name. It’s Emmett. Emmett Dray.”

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