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back her head and laughed freely.  Tossing her hair, she used the back of her hand to tuck it behind an ear.  “Oh, Connor!”

“What do ye find so amusing?”

“I did not learn that at medical school!” she chuckled.  “It is an ancient remedy long employed by millions of college students across America, usually shortly after their first frat party.”

“Let me understand, ye’ve employed such a tonic yourself?”

“Many times, though not recently.”

She’d had a habit of drinking heavily?  He stared at her sure that his eyes were wide with astonishment.  Ladies of his acquaintance imbibed lightly and rarely.  Connor had never before met a woman who had admitted to intoxication let alone public intoxication if his interpretation of ‘party’ was correct.  But then, he had already she was not a lady in the strictest definition of the word though her professional calling was noble if not genteel.  “Well, however ye came to be familiar with the cure to my infirmity, I thank ye.”

“No problem.”

They sat in awkward silence for a moment staring out over the water. Each wondered what the other was thinking, wondered who would be first to break the uncomfortable moment. Emmy wanted very much to gloss over his actual absence…he had confirmed his idiocy and Emmy wasn’t one to beat an issue to death.  It had never done any good rehash an argument again and again and she was inclined to let the subject lay.  However, the whys of his departure concerned her the most.  She was curious what had prompted it and what had decided him on accepting her identity.  Twice now he had called her by her name and she wondered at the mechanism that had garnered his acceptance.

Connor could feel the force of her unspoken questions.  She would want answers, he knew.  Emmy just wasn’t the type of person to accept words or actions she would consider unjustified.  She was not a docile, meek woman as were most ladies of his acquaintance.  She did not allow manly edict to be laid down and demanded logic and reasonable requests if she were to follow them.  As Ian had noted, she would not be told what to do.  Though, in truth, it was a quality he found most attractive in her personality.  He felt it was a reflection of her self-confidence and intelligence.

Given that intelligence, Connor knew that if he laid out a coherent examination of his actions, she would analyze it in the same vein and respond based on reason and not pure emotion.  Whether her conclusion would fall in his favor or not, he was uncertain.  But before he tackled that matter, there was one explanation he felt he was owed.  “Emmy,” he began thinking her name suited her in its comfortable informality, “is it truly possible that yer arrival here was a simple coincidence?”

Emmy turned her head and regarded him over her crossed arms.  It simple question but the answer was not nearly so straightforward.  She could not plainly say she had no idea how she had come to be here and now so strove to be as honest as she could without revealing too much yet.  “I came to the UK for a vacation…holiday.”

“The UK?”

“United Kingdom,” she clarified and he nodded encouraging her to continue.  “It was meant to be a ten-day trip from London to Edinburgh and over here to Mull.  Duart is one of the best preserved examples of medieval architecture and I’m  fond of the architecture of that period, so here, Edinburgh Castle, St. Paul’s, Westminster…that kind of thing.  That I arrived at your front door on the day I did, appearing as I did for the purpose of your personal history is, yes, a coincidence.”

Connor studied her expression for a moment.  There was honesty there.  Truth.  But there was something else.  Something more that she was withholding.  He wanted to know what it was but sensed than any attempts at coercion would be met similarly to his previous try.  Besides, verbal sparring was not on his agenda for the day, not only because he did not wish to argue with her, but his head wasn’t feeling that good just yet.  “Thus far then, ye seem content with remaining at Duart despite having no true connection to its occupants.”

“I wouldn’t use the word content,” Emmy responded lightly, “but you would be right in saying that I haven’t been in a hurry to leave.”  It was an evasive answer and Connor recognized it as such.  How to pry the truth from her?

“Is there any particular reason ye’re in no hurry?” he asked tentatively.

A soft smile curved her lips as she studied him.  Fishing, she thought.  God, she just loved him, insecurities and all.  He just wanted her to say it, didn’t want to be the one to say it first…well, again.  She could just put him out of his misery, if that’s what it was.  But what if her thoughts that he hadn’t meant it proved to be true?  “There are several reasons I am still here.  The most basic would be that I truly feel that Dory will need real help in delivering her babies and that I can provide that.  She is becoming like a sister to me in a sense probably because it is hard to look at her and not feel an affinity toward her.  This past week, we have become close and I find that I want to help her not only because it is my job but because I care for her.”

Reasonable and logical, just as he had predicted.  A ghost of a smile hovered on his lips.  “And another?”

Emmy bit her lower lip nervously.  “This thing between us, Connor, it is real, isn’t it?  Despite the absurdly short amount of time we have known each other, it feels like I’ve known you my entire life.  I know how you think.  I bet I can tell you better than you could explain it why you left last week.  Unless you’ve managed to completely fool me

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