Emily's Vow (36 page)

The tension in the room increased to suffocating proportions as the two healers glared at each other.

"You believe in their abilities more than your own." Samantha shrugged, breaking the stare, and resumed her work. "I trust in myself and my abilities."

"I'll not have you attempt to kill another of
my
patients." Trent crossed the room to inspect Frank's shoulder. "Humph, that will work. Good thing it was a clean shot and didn't leave the lead ball embedded in it. It's uncomfortably close to the heart, but fortunately missed anything that would prove fatal."

Frank really could have died. The bleak horror of that thought made Emily suddenly dizzy, and she sank onto a nearby chair. Spots formed before her eyes, and she put her head in her hands to steady herself as the room swayed. Dark shadows floated around her. Thoughts whirled in her mind as quickly as the spots came and went. Her breath caught in her lungs at Frank's near miss with death. If John had aimed a little more to the left, the deadly lead ball would have struck his heart instead of his arm.

Pain rippled through her at the thought of losing Frank. His smile. His eyes filled with laughter. And love.

Losing the man she'd grown to love despite all her protestations. Could she endure the eventual pain of loving him and watching him die? She'd survived her sister's death but not without a persistent void in her life.

She groaned aloud, attracting the sudden attention and concern of Samantha. Her friend poured water into a glass and hurried to Emily's side.

"My goodness, you look like you've seen a ghost," Samantha said. "Here, drink this."

She sipped, glad to have something to fill her mouth so her newfound discovery stayed inside for a bit longer.

She must make a terrible choice, one that sent echoes of fear shooting through her. Stick with her safe path and her vow, or take the risk and follow her heart?

Chapter 19

"There, I think that does it." Emily placed the bowl of colorful gourds on the dining room table and stood back to critique the overall effect. "We're decorated for the party tonight. I love the scent of the pinecones and cinnamon, don't you?"

Amy crossed her arms and surveyed the room. "It's lovely. The food is ready, and the guests should arrive shortly."

"I've already ensured dear little Tommy had his supper," Emily said with a grin, "and is tucked in with Mary upstairs in his room." She'd given him a kiss on his sweet forehead, happy that he'd finally accepted her attentions. "I think he may even like me a bit."

"He'll be calling you mother in no time." Amy hugged Emily and stepped back to look over the room where the feast, such as it was, would take place. "All that remains is to set out the chairs in the upstairs parlor and make sure the fire is stoked."

"I'll see to that, and then we need to dress for dinner." Amy crossed to her and squeezed her shoulders before leaving Emily alone to finish in the dining room.

Emily paused to peruse the decorations, then caught herself staring into the fire as thoughts swirled in her head. Her father planned to return this evening, in time for the festivities. How would she express her disappointment and resulting lack of trust in him? She prayed for courage and strength to say what needed to be said.

Booted footsteps echoed on the stairs prior to Frank entering the room, resplendent in his evening attire. Emily's breath hitched at the sight. Frank stood tall and handsome in his midnight-blue evening coat and trousers, the dark broadcloth emphasizing the impressive breadth of his shoulders. Good, he'd managed to run whatever mysterious errand he'd set out to do and made it home in time for dinner. The bulge of the bandage protecting his shoulder strained the fabric. That deep-seated emotion she had experienced in her dreams blossomed within her. An ache no salve or herbal could assuage settled inside. She loved him. It was that simple and that complex. What would the future bring? She smiled at him, and he nodded at the silent compliment.

"My darling, you are enchanting this evening." He sauntered across the room and kissed her. "I could grow accustomed to seeing your smile every day."

"And I yours." She meant it, too.

The back door opened, allowing a blast of cold air to rush through the house. "Hallo! I'm back."

Her smile froze before melting into a frown. "Will you accompany me to speak to Father?"

Silently she left the room, Frank following. When he took her hand, her heart skipped, then settled into its normal rhythm.

"Welcome home, Father." She met him in the hall. "Was your voyage successful?"

Something flickered in his eyes as he removed his cloak and handed it to Jasmine. Emily focused on the man in front of her. The man she had trusted all her life.

The man who challenged her trust.

"Very successful, thank you." He glanced at Frank. "The contact I spoke to you about awaits further orders."

What was that about? Emily cleared her throat drawing her father's attention. "I've returned from an adventure of my own."
Wait until you hear where I've been while you've been roving around on some secret mission.
Anger seethed inside at how easily he lied to her. She never suspected until recently, and then to have John throw it in her face, adding insult to injury. "Would you join me in the library for a sherry?"

"I'd like to freshen up first, if you don't mind," her father said warily.

"I do mind, Father. Come, there's not much time before our guests arrive, and we must talk. Now." She ushered him down the hall and into the library, keeping Frank's hand securely in her own until they all crossed the doorsill.

Emily positioned herself in front of the fireplace. Her father stood impatiently in front of her. Frank closed the door behind him. The fire hissed and popped in the background as she stared at her father, silently trying various phrases before she dared to speak them. He gazed back then opened his hands in a questioning gesture.

"What is this about, darling? I must dress for dinner. I'm much later returning than expected due to some rather unexpected complications."

"I'm enthralled and would love to hear about your trip. After you explain why you lied to me." There, she'd said it. Confronting him felt good, to challenge him on his actions.

"Lie? When did I lie to you?"

"Did you think I wouldn't discover the truth? The entire town knows, including the British. That's why I've spent two days held prisoner, being groped and kissed by John Bradley. All thanks to you."

She ignored Frank's startled look, though she'd likely have to explain her comment to him later.

"You were in the dungeon?" Her father stepped to her and hugged her. "Because of me? Oh God, I didn't know."

"Of course not, you who've been privateering and hoping nobody would catch on. But they did. And they imprisoned me for it."

"Why would they think you were involved?" He set her away from him and gazed at her face.

"I went to your shop to prove your innocence in your own ledgers."

"Tell me you didn't go by yourself?" His grip tightened on her arms. "I warned you to stay home."

"I took her," Frank said. "She didn't venture out alone."

"Major Bradley found me there, where I read through your ledgers and finally understood the deceit you engaged in."

"You should not have gone there. I knew someone in town asked questions, and suspected that Bradley boy. Why else do you think I wanted you to stay home but for your safety?" He peered into her eyes, searching for she knew not what. "I did not want you to be involved in any of this."

"Easy to say now." A tear threatened to show itself, and she swallowed. "Why, Father? Why did you do this?"

"I've done nothing but try to protect you by not revealing everything to you. That way, if they discovered how I supported our new government, the British could not implicate you as well." He hugged her to him, and his heart beat against her cheek, strong and even. "You must believe me."

"It's hard to when the father I knew and trusted did not also trust me in return." She pushed away from him. "How am I to trust you?"

He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head slowly. "You have no need to be ashamed of me. What I've done, I'd do again without qualms. I love our new America and will do anything within my power to fight for it and all it stands for. I am an American, not a British subject. I'm working for our government. Would you have me do less than that?"

A soft knock on the door echoed in the ensuing silence. Amy's voice quietly called through the door. "Emily, we must dress. Our guests will arrive soon."

"A moment." Emily glanced at Frank, then her father. He had done his duty for their newly formed government, helping turn the tide of the war in their favor. Sometimes a good reason existed for not telling the whole truth. She moved to him, searching his eyes for understanding. "No, sir, I would not have you do less than to defend our country. I had not understood your reasons. Will you forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive, dear." He kissed her forehead lightly and smiled. "You are a true patriot and loving daughter who demonstrates a deep caring for her old father. I love you. Shall we prepare for our guests now?"

Emily smiled at him and took his arm. "Yes, we shall."

"Sir, a word with you?" Frank asked.

"Now?" her father replied. "What is it with you two?"

"It will only take a moment." Frank smiled at Emily and motioned with his head for her to excuse them.

Emily slowly removed her hand from her father's arm. "Please do not linger long."

She eased the door closed behind her. What did Frank need to say to her father in private?

* * *

"The sun had faded long ago, hiding behind the ominous clouds sweeping across dead trees. A rattle and clatter echoed through the bare limbs, chilling the three travelers to the bone, but it was only the long claws of the trees scraping against each other in the biting wind."

Emily appreciated the new story Amy had written for her father to read. Apparently the crowd gathered around the fireplace did as well, for they intently listened to each word.

"An enjoyable evening as always." Frank handed her a cup of warm apple cider.

She sipped and smiled. "Thank you, Frank, for everything."

He kissed her hand. "My sweet, it is entirely my pleasure."

Jasmine appeared in the door of the upstairs parlor and caught Emily's eye as she glanced past Frank's shoulder. Emily nodded at the silent message.

"Only one man survived that horrifying night, and he never spoke of what happened. The end." Her father leaned back in his storytelling throne and smiled at the applause he received at the conclusion of the story.

As the commotion died down, Emily stepped forward and clapped her hands twice. "Dinner is served, everyone. If you'll make your way down to the dining room, we'll eat momentarily."

Samantha appeared at her side, smiling. "That was a wonderful story."

"Be sure to tell Amy," Emily replied. "She has such a gift for stories."

"I'll thank her for your release from prison as well. She had a hand in that, employing her gift, from what I hear."

Frank winked at Emily. "Perhaps a little stretching of the truth is more like it."

"I do not know what she said to Colonel Balfour to make him order John to release me," Emily replied honestly. "Nor do I care at this point. As long as I am home among my family and friends for the holidays, I'm content. Shall we join the others?"

After they took their seats at the expansive table laden with savory meats, vegetables, relishes, and fruits, the sound of laughter and conversation filled the cheery room.

Emily perused the faces around the table, smiling at each in turn. Her father sat at the head of the table, holding court over the proceedings. Emily sat at his right hand, with Frank beside her. Frank's leg casually rested against hers, keeping a constant intimate touch between them. Samantha and Amy sat across from her, with Uncle Richard and Aunt Lucille beside them. She noticed an empty seat beside Frank.

"Who is late for dinner?" she whispered to Frank. "I cannot think who it is."