Pumpkinnapper by Linda Banche

Author:Linda Banche
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: halloween, ghost, fantasy romance, sweet romance, traditional regency, second chance at love, comedy romance, british historical fiction, poor widow heroine, wealthy aristocrat hero
Publisher: Linda Banche

Chapter 9

Hank is here! Thank you, Henry.

Despite Emily’s gratitude that Henry had chased Hank inside, she had to punish the obstreperous goose for biting him.

But that was for later. Now, though…

Brow furrowed, Hank stared out the window, with nary a glance to right or left.

Would that he paid her such unwavering attention. As much as she wanted him, she was still uncertain if he wanted her. But how to turn him this way?

Talk to him!

Yes, but about what?

Anything!

Anything, anything…“Dust!” Her voice squeaked.

Hank cocked his head. “I beg your pardon. Did you say ‘dust’?”

“Yes.” Her cheeks heated, but the sparse illumination from the smoldering embers would hide her flush. “According to the news sheets, dust caused our ghastly weather. The natural philosophers blame an immense volcanic eruption last year on the island of Tambora in Asia.” Her words tumbled one over the other, a torrent of rushing sound, and probably just as unintelligible.

Oh, dear.

His boots scuffing the kitchen flagstones, he swiveled toward her. “Asia is on the other side of the world. How can anything that far away affect us?”

“The eruption spewed out vast amounts of dust, which the air currents carried here. The dust obscures and deflects the sunlight, cooling the earth. Not just here, but in Europe and America, too. On the bright side, the dust also produced all our lovely, colorful sunsets this year.”

“Dust.” His tone said only a Bedlamite would converse about dust.

The heat in her cheeks increased. Good gracious. Dust? What a cork-brained topic.

They both fell silent.

A new brand caught fire in the hearth. The flames shot up, blue and yellow, their crackling sharp. Starshine painted a faintly glowing oblong on the shadowed carpet. The wind rose, rattling a loose shutter for the briefest of seconds before dying away.

“Emily, I...” Hank’s features were shaded, but light from the kitchen grate reflected in his eyes, transforming them into ebony pools. “I missed you.”

Her mouth dry, she swallowed. “I missed you, too.”

His chair legs scraped on the floor as he faced his chair towards her. He leaned forward, his clasped hands between his knees. “Tell me what happened in the village after I left for university.”

“The same as happened when you were here. People went about their daily work. A few newcomers arrived, some residents moved away. There were marriages, births, deaths, market days and festivals. The usual in a small town. I suppose our goings-on were of no interest to you, because I never saw you again.” She couldn’t keep an edge out of her voice. You could have come back.

He winced, as if the sharpness in her tone had cut him. “I regret that I never returned. On all the school holidays, my father dragged me to London. Small Lindsell may be, but the place is my home. I did come back after I finished university, but you had gone. The townsfolk said you married.”

“Yes, I wed Tobias when I was seventeen. He was a Navy officer between voyages, and on a visit to his parents in Maldon.

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