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Authors: Susan Stevens

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BOOK: Ivory Innocence
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Sensing another presence, she looked round and saw Nancy in the doorway, her face a mask of tragedy. Ivory sat up, suddenly afraid.

"Now, you're not to worry!" Nancy said, hurrying to sit beside her. "But I'm afraid there's been an accident. They were on their way home. A child ran out into the road and Matthew ran to save him. But he's alive, Ivory. Hold on to that."

Chapter Twelve

Nancy drove her to the hospital. Ivory recalled greeting Harry Drummond, who told her more details of what had happened: the child had been saved, just had a bad fright. There were doctors and nurses, and there was Matthew, lying unconscious.

The head bandage looked shockingly white against his dark hair and skin, and his eyes were closed as if he would never open them again. He looked thinner than she remembered, with deep hollows under his cheekbones.

Looking at him, Ivory felt sick with fear.

That night she lay in bed at the Drummonds' house knowing she ought to sleep for the sake of the baby. But every time she closed her eyes she saw only Matthew, lying in the hospital bed with electrodes taped to his chest and a tube disappearing down his throat.

She was awakened by the sound of a phone. She threw on her dressing gown and rushed out to the stairs in time to hear Harry say, "Yes, I'll tell her. Thank you."

His face convinced Ivory that the news was not the worst, but he didn't look very happy. He came slowly up the stairs to take her hands. "He's conscious. The damage isn't as bad as they feared at first. There's no serious brain injury. Apart from that bump on his head, he's just got cuts and bruises. That's good news, isn't it?"

"Wonderful!" Ivory breathed, frightened by the "but" in his voice. "Then he'll be all right?"

"They think so. But—" His fingers tightened comfortingly on hers, though his eyes were troubled. "The problem is, Ivory, he can't remember a thing. He doesn't even know who he is."

Before she was allowed to see Matthew, Ivory had an interview with the doctor. He told her the amnesia was probably only a temporary thing, but advised her not to try to rush her husband's memory. He was to be kept in hospital for a while, until the head wound healed; that would give him time to adjust to the situation as far as was possible. After that, she could take him home.

Aware that she must stay calm for Matthew's sake, she followed a nurse to the private room where her husband lay. The nurse opened the door and said cheerfully, "Here's your wife to see you, Mr. Kendrake."

The bandage was still in place, but he looked better than he had the previous evening, almost his old self. But he had lost weight since he'd left Hedley Hall, and his blue eyes held an uncertain expression.

Knowing that to him she must seem like a stranger, Ivory said shyly, "Hello, Matthew. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he said. "Apart from a headache. They've told you—"

"Yes. You don't remember anything. But that won't last. Your memory will come back in its own good time, if you rest and get strong again. They've told me not to rush it."

"They told me the same, but, dammit, I don't even know your name!"

"It's Ivory."

"Ivory." He tested the sound as if he had never said it before. "Ivory." A frown drew his brows together. "I thought it would mean something, but it doesn't. I'm sorry."

"I understand. We'll take it very slowly." She drew a chair to the bedside and sat down, wanting to reach for his hand, wanting to weep, but knowing she mustn't. Why had he grown so thin? Had he been unhappy, as Nancy claimed?

"How long have we been married?" he asked.

"Two months."

"Is that all? Two months." He closed his eyes, leaning back against the pillows. "Good grief, we're still newlyweds, and I don't remember any of it."

Unable to hold back any longer, she took his hand between her own, entwining her fingers with his. "It's not important, darling. You will remember, in time. You're going to have to be patient, if you can manage it. Patience isn't one of your virtues."

He looked at her with the ghost of a wry smile, but his fingers tightened on hers as if the contact comforted him. "That's two things I know about myself."

"Two things?"

"I'm impatient, and I have very good taste when it comes to choosing a wife. I expect I've told you before, but… You're beautiful."

"Oh, Matthew!" Ready tears rushed into her eyes, and she bent her head to hide them.

"Hey, now," he said softly, touching her hair with a tentative hand. "Don't go to pieces on me. I'm going to need your strength. We'll see this through together, won't we?" An anxious note had crept into his voice, and Ivory lifted her head to see the doubts and bewilderment in those forget-me-not eyes. "You will stay with me, won't you?"

"Of course I will," she breathed. "I've got no life without you. I love you, Matthew."

Frowning a little, he rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Two months. Good Lord! Imagine forgetting the happiest time of my life!"

It was going to be even more difficult than she had supposed.

She informed Mrs. Barnes of what had happened, but told her not to alarm Janey. While Matthew remained in hospital, she stayed with the Drummonds and visited her husband twice daily, telling him very little. The doctors had said that by going into detail she would only irritate him, since it would seem like a story about someone else. Until he remembered for himself, until he remembered his own attitudes and feelings, there was no point in recounting his life history. So she told him only that she was his second wife and that he had a daughter from his first marriage.

Some days Matthew was irritable, angry with himself and angry with everyone around him; then he would be sorry. He had every reason to believe that the condition was only temporary, but it frustrated him. Matthew Kendrake did not like to feel helpless, as Ivory well knew. If it was difficult for her, it was worse for him.

After a few days the bandage was replaced by a plaster, and she could see they had shaved part of his hair. But it would grow again, and the unruly tumble around it partially concealed the place. To outward appearances, he was almost back to normal.

The Drummonds proved themselves true friends.

Harry even drove Ivory's car back to Hedley Magna, since the Mercedes was available for her in London. He returned by train and reported that Janey was well, but anxious to see her father and Ivory. Ivory phoned the child every day.

After two weeks she was able to tell Janey that they were coming home and would all go on holiday together. After long talks with the doctor, and encouraged by Nancy, she had decided to take Matthew to the cottage on the moors, where they could live a quiet family life away from inquisitive neighbors.

When, finally, she drove north with Matthew beside her, the yellow of autumn was beginning to shade the trees. Matthew had regained some weight while in hospital. For a different reason, her own waistline had thickened, but as yet only she was aware of it.

Seeing him frowning at road signs, she said quietly, "Don't try to force it, Matthew. They told you at the hospital—"

"I know what they told me!" he cut in, and sighed, laying an intimate hand on her knee. "I'm sorry, darling, but I keep looking for something that will turn the key. If you only knew what it's like to be in a mental no-man's-land."

"I can imagine," she replied, wondering if he would ever regret calling her "darling." She used the endearment naturally, but he said it only to follow suit. In some ways, as she had told herself many times, she was deceiving him yet again by pretending they were happily married. Except that it wasn't pretence. Between them now there was a warmth and understanding that she had never dared hope for. But would it last after he remembered what had gone before?

She was afraid that Hedley Hall might provide the key he was seeking. Or perhaps Janey would stir his memory. She knew it was selfish of her to be afraid.

She wanted Matthew to be well again. But what if it meant their parting? As the miles sped by beneath the wheels she grew more and more tense, waiting for some familiar landmark to open the door for him.

For her a lifetime of memories lay in the sight of Hedley Magna with its red roofs among the trees, the lane where the cottage stood with smoke marks still smudged across its walls, and then Hedley Hall, glowing golden in the autumn sunlight. But when she glanced at Matthew, she could see it meant nothing to him.

"Here's Janey," she told him as the little girl appeared on the porch with Mrs. Barnes, beside the wooden tub filled with bronze chrysanthemums.

As Matthew stepped out of the car, Janey ran out onto the gravel but paused uncertainly, having been told her father was not well. Matthew, however, was equal to the occasion. He said, "Hello, Janey," and held out his arms.

"Oh, Daddy! Daddy!" Janey rushed at him, clinging tightly round his neck as he lifted her off the ground.

"Don't strain yourself, Matthew," Ivory said worriedly.

"I won't," he said in an odd, taut voice, bending his face to Janey's curls. Ivory saw the glint of moisture on his lashes and was moved to tears herself. She knew why he was upset: not even the sight of his daughter had jogged his closed memory.

She tried to keep everything as normal as possible. While Matthew rested, she put Janey to bed and then called him to say good night, leaving the two of them alone. She poured him an aperitif and, they dined by candlelight on the steak Diane Mrs. Barnes had prepared especially.

Later they sat in the drawing room, finishing the wine that had accompanied the meal. Ivory drank very little of it, because of the baby, but she kept refilling Matthew's glass. As the alcohol took its effect, she saw him relax. He began to talk more freely, recalling incidents that had occurred at the hospital with a dry humor which made her laugh.

"I must be a very lucky man," he said eventually, gazing at her with the strange, half-despairing look that had become familiar to her. "This house, good friends, a pretty daughter, and you, Ivory. You know why I'm sitting here making conversation, don't you?"

"Because you feel like a visitor?" she suggested.

He shook his head, smiling wryly. "Because I want to take you to bed. And since I hardly know you, it feels vaguely immoral."

"There's nothing immoral about it," she assured him softly. "I'm your wife. Give me ten minutes, will you?"

"Is that what I did the first time?"

Flushing, Ivory laughed a little guiltily. "Not exactly. But then, this is almost like the first time, isn't it? For you, anyway."

"Suppose I've forgotten how to do that, too?" he asked with another twisted smile.

"If you have," she said, bending to kiss him lightly, "I'll remind you."

She waited in the bedroom, clad in a white lace negligee she had bought for just this occasion, because he had once said she ought to wear virginal white. Nerves made her laugh at the thought: a virgin bride with a baby forming in her womb.

She heard him in the dressing room. Eventually he came in wearing the brown silk robe she had laid out for him. He looked as diffident as a boy with his first girl. But his body beneath the robe was all mature man, making her heart begin to thump erratically.

As she stood up, he drew a long, deep breath, and his glance devoured her from head to foot. Desire gleamed in his bright blue eyes. But there was tenderness, too, such as she had never seen in him before. This is the real Matthew, she thought, without his defences, without that barrier round his heart.

"I love you," she whispered, holding out her arms.

Two jerky strides brought him to her side, and he clasped her in his arms, seeking her willing lips. After weeks of brief pecks exchanged in hospital, this first real embrace shook her with its intensity and made her as impatient as he. Only minutes later they lay naked on the bed, lost in each other.

Afterwards, Matthew lay with his head on her breast, one hand playing with her hair and touching her face. He lifted himself to look at her in the dim light, a gentle finger wiping the tears from her cheek.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I love you so much," she breathed. "You'll never know how much I love you."

BOOK: Ivory Innocence
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