narrowed her gray eyes in a severe warning, and again he had to smile. “Emma, I did nothing terrible, I assure you. She was drowning—”
“It was not until he tried to help me that I was drowning!” the girl protested.
“It’s amazing what you do seem to remember,” Hunter murmured.
“Good heavens! What did happen?” Emma demanded.
“I suppose we must let the young woman explain,” Hunter said.
“Young woman? What is your name, dear?” Emma asked.
“Yes, dear, what is your name?” Hunter repeated. He watched her face heat with color. “Ah! Dear me, how could I forget so quickly? She suffered a bump on the head and has forgotten everything. Can you imagine, Emma?”
The housekeeper looked horrified. “Hunter, what did you do?”
“I’m innocent, I swear!” he said.
“Aye, mum, he’s innocent this time, I can vouch for that,” Ethan said, coming round from having led the horses and conveyance on to the carriage house and the groom. “Sir Hunter saw a friend swept clean off the deck of another yacht, and he dived to rescue the fellow. Seems that, wherever she came from, the girl had the same idea.”
Emma stared her. “Child! You went into the Thames? Why, ’tis filthy with the rot of thousands, no matter what they say has been done for sanitation in the reign of our good Queen Victoria!”
“I’ve been in it before,” the girl murmured. She flushed again, catching Hunter’s glance, “I…uh…think I’ve been in it before! I mean…perhaps I’ve been in water quite frequently…at least, I believe that I have….”
Emma glared at Hunter once more. “Well, and look at you, in just your drawers and a blanket! Humph!” She wagged a finger at Hunter. “You, sir, have your reputation, but it shall not sully mine. I’ll see to it that our poor dear guest has a bath and is set right up. Ethan! You must go for the doctor immediately—”
“Doctor!” the girl protested.
“Of course! You’ve lost your memory. And with the master of the house around, dear, we wouldn’t want to add to that the fact that you’ve lost your senses! No, no, this must be handled in all proper haste!”
“Emma, I’m hardly likely to seduce the girl beneath my own roof,” Hunter murmured wryly.
“Indeed, hardly likely,” the girl muttered.
“In fact, Ethan will help me out of this river sop I wear, Emma, and you see to the young lady here. They’ll be wanting to know about this at Lord Avery’s manor—it was David Turnberry who went into the drink, and he’ll want to thank our mystery girl properly. I’ll give a call to the manor—assuming the blasted telephone decides to work—let them know that I’ve got the girl.”
“But I do think we should have the doctor—” Emma began to protest.
“I’m fine!” the girl assured her.
“Humph!” Emma said.
“Let’s see…perhaps we should give her until the morning, see how she is faring then. Emma, I’m sure you will have a delightful room ready somewhere in this place?” Hunter said.
“A bath…and a bit of rest. Alone. If I may. That would be lovely,” the girl said. “And if I feel at all ill in the morning, I swear I’ll see a doctor!”
“All right, then, Hunter, be gone up the stairs. Young woman, I’ll get a good deep bath going, and you’ll be warm and cozy in no time. Now, Hunter, you must stay away.”
“Good Lord, trust me, I intend to!” he assured Emma. He couldn’t help winking at his less-than-gracious guest before he passed her by. His fine deck shoes squeaked and he was beginning to feel more than a chill, despite the blanket around his shoulders.
Ethan followed him to his room, dragging out the hip bath, ready to be of service. “Stop, my friend,” said Hunter. “I’ll heat my own bath. See to it that there are coins left on the dresser in the blue room—which is surely where Emma will take our guest. Oh, and see that there are enough coins for transport in the pocket of whatever piece of clothing Emma chooses for our guest.”
Ethan arched a brow.
“Believe me, my friend,” said Hunter. “It is for the girl’s benefit.”
“You want her to run away?”
“She’s going to run back to the river. You mark my words. Besides, don’t worry. I intend to run after her. Ah, Ethan! Please, just do as I say!”
Ethan grunted but left to do as bidden.
KAT, HER MEMORY QUITE INTACT, found being and talking with Mrs. Johnson—Emma, as she preferred to be called—easy and comfortable. The woman was so warm and caring! Kat didn’t think that she’d ever had such a delightful bath, the water so deliciously warm. The house and furnishings were exquisite. Kat had never been in such luxury!
Emma chatted about the neighborhood—charming, she adored it, they’d been there almost a decade. Then there was the amazing way one could now get about—on a train in a tube underground! “Oh, that it had been there when I was a young girl!” she declared. She mostly talked about Sir Hunter MacDonald, the love of her life, it seemed.
Kat wished desperately that she’d been taken to the home of David Turnberry, instead, for she was certain that there she’d have heard from his housekeeper and might have learned all kinds of delicious little nuggets about his life. But it wasn’t to be. She had to remember where she was. And why.
And remember to be grateful. So she listened. Sir Hunter had been an impressive soldier, and it had been for his gallant service to his country that he had been knighted. Why, Emma gushed, he was called upon often to play the diplomat for the queen! And, well, of course, he did have his reputation, but only because there were so many widows and even a few divorcées who did not understand mourning as did their dear queen. And Americans! Well…they were a breed of their own, adventurers-adventuresses, all. And then, of course, there was his obsession with Egyptian antiquities. Yes, there had been quite a hullabaloo at the museum just a year ago. Dastardly going-ons, but all settled in the end, the evil ones out of the picture, and those involved would be sailing off again, learning more and more, and adding to the grandeur of the British Empire!
Yes, yes, yes, Kat thought. But how much could a girl listen to, especially about a fellow who had almost drowned her? All right, it was true that that had not been his intention, and he had made her a guest in his very beautiful home. So she held her tongue while his housekeeper worked her hair with sweet-smelling suds and prattled on. She didn’t have much of a choice.
“But, of course, you’ve read about him, I’m certain,” Emma continued. “He has been the idol of the country many a time. Oh, I forgot! Poor thing. Your memory is gone. But if anything stirs in the darkness, let me assure you, despite his wretched reputation as a ladies’ man, Sir Hunter is a gentleman, a true gentleman.” Emma seemed determined that Kat should understand that.
The woman added ruefully, “I’m certain that many of
