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lock of hair behind her ear. “Do you have my bag?”

    Clayton stood and poked his head into the foyer. “Have you seen the lady’s bag?” A muffled reply brought Clayton back into the room with a frown. “I’m sorry. Andrew has it with him. He should be here shortly and I’l fetch it for you.”
    “Mr. Madden?” she whispered.
    “Clayton, please.”
    “Clayton.” Emma laid her hand on her chest to calm her heart. “I real y need that bag. My whole life is in it.”
    He clasped his hands behind his back. “Both you and your bag are safe, Miss Wel ington. Upon my word, nothing wil happen to either.”
    Emma dragged her lower lip between her teeth and nodded.
    The door to the parlor opened and Emma glanced up to see Gwen pause, a decanter in one hand, a glass in the other. Emma’s pulse increased. She blushed when Gwen smiled sweetly and handed her the glass half-fil ed with amber liquid. “This is whiskey. It should help with the pain.”
    Emma emptied its contents with one deep swal ow. The liquid flowed down her throat and she thought she’d never tasted anything so good. And she should know…her desire for the finer things in life, and the need to quel the pain from the loss of her sister, had led her and Hannah on an exploration to find the best single malt they could.
    Gwen’s eyes widened in surprise. “My word.”
    Good one, Emma. Now she thinks I’m a boyfriend stealer and a drunk. Just great.
    Clayton sat back on the footstool. “Perhaps one more, Gwen?”
    Emma handed the glass back to Gwen. “No, that’s good.”
    She cleared her throat. “I feel better already.”
    “I think Miss Wel ington should rest now.” Gwen set the glass aside and laid her hand on Clayton’s shoulder.
    “Would you carry her upstairs, please?”
    Clayton smiled and stood. “Yes, ma’am.” Gathering Emma into his arms again, he fol owed Gwen up the stairs and down the hal .
    Emma gave him a half-smile. “I’m so sorry.”
    “For what?” he whispered.
    “For you having to carry me everywhere. I could probably walk, you know.”
    “It’s nothin’.” Clayton grinned. “You don’t weigh any more than a bag of cotton seed.”
    “Is that some kind of a southern expression?”
    He smiled. “I suppose it is.”
    They reached a doorway at the back of the house, and Gwen paused with her hand on the knob. “That’s far enough, Clayton Madden. I’l take it from here.”
    “Are you certain?”
    Gwen narrowed her eyes with a curt nod. “Yes, I’m certain.”
    Clayton gently lowered Emma to the ground and Gwen wrapped her arm around her waist. “Ready, Miss Wel ington?”
    Emma nodded and Gwen helped her hobble inside. After settling Emma against the bed, Gwen threw the door closed with a pointed smack. “I hope you’l find everything you need here. There’s a commode in the corner and fresh water on the dresser. I brought an extra nightgown with me, so I’l col ect it for you. I have a day dress that Sarah should be able to alter for you, there’s plenty of hem to let down, and we’l work on the rest when you’re feeling better.”
    Emma didn’t know who Sarah was, but didn’t want to ask.
    She gripped the duvet and leaned against the mattress.
    “Thank you…uh…I’m sorry, I don’t know what to cal you.”

    Gwen smiled. “Cal me Gwen. May I cal you Emma?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “If I leave you here, wil you be al right?”
    Emma nodded. “Yes. I could use a few minutes alone.”
    Gwen’s eyes widened. “Yes, I imagine you would. I’l be sure to knock.”
    Emma grimaced. “I appreciate that.”
    Gwen opened the door, and Emma was surprised to see Clayton poke his head inside. “How do you feel, Miss Wel ington?”
    Gwen placed her hand on his chest and pushed him backward. “Emma is fine. However, she requires privacy, so please go downstairs and wait for Christopher.”
    An argument ensued as Gwen closed the door, but Emma was too distracted to care. She hobbled to the commode