Chapter Two #2
The earl continued to observe her beneath hooded eyes, his face lined with hawkish determination.
Damien could barely credit what his eyes told him.
After all this time, here was Emmeline, standing calmly in front of him, denying she knew him.
Hadn’t he just been telling Jenkins he believed she was alive?
Damien had been drawn to her slender cloaked figure the moment he entered the small park.
Drinking brandy with Jenkins into the wee hours of the morning had left Damien feeling numb and lightheaded, and he sought the fresh air to clear his head.
After riding his favorite stallion through the streets of London, the earl stopped at the small park to rest his horse. And then he saw her.
At first the earl had been unsure it was Emmeline.
Perhaps it was a trick of the morning sunlight or the effects of too much brandy.
Damien continued observing the mysterious woman from a distance, with each passing minute becoming more and more convinced it was indeed his wife who stood a few hundred yards away.
Finally he approached her, and when he stared fully into the woman’s beautiful, deceitful face, the earl knew Emmeline was alive.
Of course, his wife had changed. The changes were subtle, yet noticeable.
Her fair complexion was paler than he remembered and her nose looked smaller, her mouth fuller.
She was dressed as Damien had never seen her before, demurely, almost somberly, in a long, loose-fitting navy blue coat and a matching bonnet that completely hid her glorious auburn curls.
Well, she could change her clothes and her hairstyle, but there was one thing Emmeline could not change about her appearance. Her extraordinary violet eyes. Damien had never seen their like before. And he stared ruthlessly into them now.
She returned his hard glare with a mixture of barely concealed confusion and fear, but Damien understood her reaction.
After two years he hardly expected Emmeline to politely greet him.
She was probably as shocked to see him as he was to see her.
And she was determined to deny her true identity.
But again, Damien was not surprised. Emmeline had gone to a tremendous amount of trouble to “die” two years ago.
He hardly expected her to so easily give up her masquerade.
Before Damien could question her further, a young boy’s cry shattered the turbulent atmosphere flaring between them.
“The children!” Isabella shouted in genuine alarm.
Dismissing the disturbing stranger, Isabella turned and raced down the embankment towards the pond.
She reached the edge of the water just in time to save Caroline from being pushed into the small lake by her brother.
“Caroline is cheating!” Robert shrieked in a high voice. “She said her stick won, but it was my stick that crossed the line first.” He stamped his foot in anger and lunged for his sister.
Isabella thrust her hand out automatically to intercept the blows Robert aimed at Caroline. His young face was twisted in a mask of rage. “You will control yourself at once, Robert!” Isabella admonished in her sternest voice. “Your behavior is thoroughly disgraceful.”
Caroline and Guinevere began sobbing loudly, frightened by Isabella’s tone and the physical violence exhibited by their younger brother.
Isabella managed to subdue the girls with a threat to cancel all outings to the park for the next two weeks.
The girls sniveled noisily, but ceased their howling and Isabella focused her attention on young Robert.
She held the struggling child tightly by his collar, at arm’s length, in an attempt to keep him from physically harming either her or himself. She shook him once, forcing his head back, and watched with relief as the blazing anger began to slowly recede from his blue eyes.
As the child once again regained control of his raging emotions, Isabella congratulated herself on adhering to her conviction not to use physical punishment to control intolerable conduct.
Robert had tested her sorely on that point over the months, but so far she had not given in to the temptation to strike him.
She was pleased to see him master his anger so quickly.
Now if she could only prevent him from becoming so distraught in the first place, she would feel she had made real progress.
“Is everything all right, Miss Browning?”
Isabella raised her head tentatively, experiencing a vast sense of relief when she gazed into the familiar face of Hodgson, the coachman. His watery brown eyes were filled with concern.
“Is everything all right?” The older man repeated his question when Isabella did not readily answer.
“Everything is fine, Mr. Hodgson,” Isabella assured the coachman. “The children have had a minor disagreement, but all is well.”
Isabella relaxed her grip and relinquished her tight hold on Robert’s shirt collar. She favored him with a stern, pointed stare. “Isn’t there something you wish to say to Caroline?”
The boy’s lower lip jutted out rebelliously, but after a few moments of tense silence, he muttered a somewhat ungracious apology to his sniveling sister.
It was not precisely the kind of apology Isabella felt was proper, but she was not about to press the point. She gathered the three children close to her and spoke to the coachman.
“I believe it is time for us to return home, Mr. Hodgson.”
“Yes, Miss Browning.” The coachman tipped his hat politely and began climbing the embankment toward the gravel path where the carriage awaited them. The children and Isabella followed close behind.
“And just where do you think you are going, Emmeline?”
Isabella groaned out loud at the sound of the now-familiar voice. Oh Lord, not him again, she thought with genuine dismay. The ruckus with Robert and the girls had momentarily distracted her from the stranger’s disturbing presence. He had not, unfortunately, forgotten about her.
Isabella could feel him walking closely behind her, but she waited until they reached the carriage before addressing him.
“As I have explained to you before, sir, I am not Emmeline,” she stated in a voice dripping with icy formality.
Dismissing the stranger with a curt nod of her head, she deliberately turned her back on him and ushered the children into the carriage.
Their young faces were shining brightly with curiosity, but they wisely did not question their governess.
Damien knew he had upset her. He did not miss the dark flush of anger on her cheeks, or the sparkle of annoyance in her beautiful eyes.
Emmeline has learned to control her temper much better these past few years, he noted wryly to himself.
But angry or not, he was hardly going to allow Emmeline to simply walk away from him.
The earl sprang into action the moment he saw her raise her foot to climb into the carriage.
Moving swiftly, he blocked her entrance.
“You cannot possible think I will let you go so easily,” he said in a deliberately sarcastic tone.
He stood before her like a wall of granite.
There was a challenging gleam in his steely gray eyes, a waiting look on the arrogant features of his handsome face.
Isabella looked up at him and felt a cold fury sweep through her.
She had been polite; she had been patient; she had been tolerant. Now she was furious.
“You have no choice but to let me go, sir,” she spat at him in a scathing tone, “since I am not, nor have I ever been called Emmeline. And furthermore, I strongly suggest you refrain from accosting innocent young women in broad daylight or you might find yourself arrested and locked up in Bedlam, which in my opinion is precisely where you belong!”
Damien felt a flicker of uncertainty. Was it possible he had made a mistake? He attempted to look more closely into the woman’s face, but she turned her head up to the driver. “Take us home at once, Hodgson,” she commanded.
Isabella put a firm hand on Damien’s sleeve and tried to push him out of her way.
Her action startled the earl and in his confusion he unintentionally took a step back from the carriage.
It was all the space Isabella needed. Seizing her opportunity, she jumped lithely into the carriage.
Once inside she slammed the door loudly and determinedly pulled down the shade.
The earl turned a questioning eye to the older man who sat atop the box, holding the ribbons securely in his hand. “Are you in the lady’s employ?”
“The lady you are referring to is Miss Isabella Browning, my lord,” the servant answered readily. “Governess to the Braun family of Sparrow Court.” After responding to the earl’s s question, Hodgson flicked the reins and the coach moved forward.
Isabella felt a vast sense of relief when the coach finally pulled away, but the astonished expression on the handsome stranger’s face stayed with her on the short ride home.
Try as she might, she could not shake the unsettling feeling this was not the last time she would see those steely gray eyes.