The Spinster (Emerson Pass Historicals 2)

“How did you know?” Lord Barnes asked.

“You know there are no secrets in this house,” Quinn said. “Even Delphia knew.”

Lord Barnes chuckled. “I’ve given him the ring.”

“When will you do it?” Quinn asked. “I promise not to say a word.”

“What about tonight?” I asked.

“You could take her for a sleigh ride,” Quinn said. “That would be romantic.”

I shook my head. “No, I want to do it in front of her family. That’s what she would want.”

“I do believe you’re right,” Quinn said as she held out her arms to me. “I’m so very happy. You’re the answer to my prayers. Welcome to our family.”

For the second time that evening, I let myself give in to the embrace of a parent figure I’d wanted for so long.

Josephine

I gripped the back of the chair and stared at the ghost before me.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” Walter asked as he crossed the room toward me. Yes, it was his voice, low-pitched and smooth. He was thinner than last I saw him, and his golden hair darker. Even thus, he was as beautiful as my memory. His features seemed carved from the finest stone into a statue of a Greek god.

“Walter? I thought you’d died.”

“I didn’t.” He grinned and held out his hands as if it were the most ordinary thing that he’d been gone missing for two years and was now in my library. “Are you glad to see me?”

“Were you captured?” My mind tried to sort through how this could have happened. If that was the case, the army would have known, wouldn’t they? “I don’t understand. You were dead.”

“No, not exactly dead.” His light blue eyes that had once melted my resolve flickered up to the rafters. “The details are uncertain but I’ll tell you best I can.”

I waited, watching him with great intent, hoping to tell if he was saying the truth or not.

“During the battle, I was hit and went down, then passed out. I’m not sure what happened, but I woke to find myself surrounded by dead bodies from both sides. My shoulder had taken a gunshot, but I was able to get to my feet. My unit had left. In pain and disoriented, I started walking. I had no plan or any idea what direction I was headed. For days I walked and saw no one. Finally, exhausted and near starvation, I collapsed. The next thing I knew, I woke in a Swiss hospital. I couldn’t remember any of what had happened to me. That came later, after the war. I didn’t know who I was. Somewhere along the way, I’d lost my tags. The Swiss people took pity on me and allowed me to stay at a sanitarium. When the war ended, I still had no memory of anything, so I stayed.”

“But how did you get to Switzerland? Surely someone would have seen you and either captured you or helped you?”

“Like I said, I can’t remember anything. The nurses said I came in on one of their ambulances. For years, I had no recollection of who I was.”

“And then suddenly your memory returned?”

He smiled, and my stomach turned. That smile. I’d been susceptible back then, but now my stomach knew that he was a liar. “It took a long time, but finally it returned. I knew I had to come home for you. There was some trouble with my paperwork, given that the army thought I was dead, so my way to you was long.”

Stunned by this information, I took a second to gather myself. “This all seems unbelievable.”

“Doesn’t it, though? But it’s all true. Every bit.” One corner of his wide mouth twitched. He stepped closer. “Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

I moved behind the chair. My heart thudded in my chest.

Quick as a cat, he moved around the chair and picked up both my hands and kissed each one in turn. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

I snatched my hands away. “Why didn’t you write after your memory came back?”

Without blinking, looking directly into my eyes, he answered with great urgency in his voice. “I did. At least twenty times since my memory returned.”

“I didn’t get them.”

“I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t have arrived. I was afraid this was the case, as I knew you’d write to me if you’d gotten them. I wished I’d had your letters many, many times in the last few months. The ones you wrote me during the war so that a piece of you was still with me. They’d have helped me survive as I worked out how to get here. Do you remember all the things you said in your letters? I read them over and over back then. I’ve never had anyone love me that way. I’ve never loved anyone but you, Jo.” He drew nearer. I caught the scent of whiskey on his breath. Had he had whiskey during the dinners we’d had together? I couldn’t remember now. “It’s finally time for us to be together. You look as beautiful as ever. Maybe more so, if that’s possible. Tell me you’re not married.”