Page 83 of The Girl Out of Time
“Did Emmeline do something again?”
“No, she’s safe in her room. Now, listen.” He caressed her dainty fingers, passing over her wedding ring. “There’s been a slight emergency on the ship. We’ll have to evacuate, but everything—” He pulled her back when she flinched away. “Everything will be fine, Sylvia. I promise. You need to stay calm.”
“What emergency?”
“Westruck an iceberg—but it’s fine.” He held her face between his hands. “It’s fine, all right? We’ll need to wake up the children and go to the boat deck to evacuate onto the lifeboats. There’ll be officers there, controlling the situation, so you don’t have to worry about a thing. It’s important we keep calm.”
She swallowed, but then nodded. He pressed her close and kissed her forehead. Sylvia may have left her aristocratic life largely behind, but she could still employ the stiffer upper lip when the need be, and he couldn’t express how proud he was of her bravery.
“I’ll go wake up the boys,” she said. “Should we pack?”
“I don’t think so. Anything small and valuable, put in your pockets. We’ll have to dress warmly. It’s freezing cold outside.”
The air itself was frigid—he didn’t even want to consider how cold the water must be.
“I’ll wake up Emmeline,” he said as Sylvia moved to the cabin door. He needed to talk to her, anyway. He could only hope he hadn’t irreparably damaged their relationship by behaving like a great big buffoon. But any possible reconciliation would have to wait for a more peaceful moment.
He headed to the door of her cabin; Sylvia was already in the boys’ cabin, and rustles and whispers and Tristan’s yawning came from it.
“Emmeline?” Will gently knocked on the door. “Emmeline, are you awake?”
After no response, he knocked more firmly. Still nothing.
“I’m coming in,” he said louder and unlocked the door. The key slipped into the lock strangely, but the door did give way.
“Emmeline, dear, you’ll need to wake—”
He paused two steps into the room.
Emmeline was gone.
Part 4
The Lord of Two Hearts
Chapter 21
Emmeline stood frozen in shock, her dainty wedding bouquet dropping from her trembling fingers. Viscount Grey—for it had to be him, the father of the real Maria Grey—stared her down, eyes flashing murder.
“This woman is not Maria Grey,” he loudly proclaimed, unleashing a torrent of gasps and whispers. He looked at Daniel. “I don’t know whom you’re marrying, Farenham, but it’s not my daughter!” At the last word, his voice broke, and he lunged forward, grabbing Emmeline by the shoulders. “Who are you? What did you do to her?”
A commotion rose among the guests. The priest tried to pry Grey from Emmeline with a half-hearted attempt, but it was Daniel who reached between them and lightly pushed the viscount away. “Lord Grey, control yourself!”
The viscount let go of Emmeline, if only to redirect his attention to Daniel. “Did you know of this? Was this a grand conspiracy—”
“Grey!” The duke’s voice, while still calm, reached above the crowd. “I will not have such accusations against my family. We shall resolve this in private.”
The viscount grunted like a wild animal. The duchess had fainted into Louisa’s lap, and Louisa and another lady were frantically fanning her and rubbing smelling salts under her nose.
“This way.” The duke’s tone left no room to argue.
Grey grabbed Emmeline by her upper arm and yanked her after the duke, while Daniel positioned himself on her other side. Emmeline glanced at the crowd. Theo was still in the back, his gaze piercing her with shock and confusion before she was dragged away.
“Don’t worry, we’ll sort this out,” Daniel murmured to her, but the slight frustration in his voice only put her more on edge.
She was in deep, deep trouble.
The duke gestured them into the first available room: a small space with a few half-filled bookshelves and a neatly arranged writing desk. He closed the door. “Would you mind explaining yourself, Grey?”
