The Unforgettable Hero (4 page)

The hint of a smile touched Lucy’s lips. “What do you suggest, that I grab him by the leg and drag him back in here? He told us what to do.”

Adam snorted. “Pretend we’re people who do not exist? That’s madness. He couldn’t give us any suggestions to help jog her memory?”

Lucy rang for the butler. “I expect her memory will be jogged when it’s good and ready to be jogged and not a moment sooner.”

Adam rubbed the space between his eyes with the tip of one finger. The headache was getting worse. “You agree with him?”

Lucy patted her coiffure. “What else am I to do? The poor woman is alone with no family, no friends, and no memory. We are currently responsible for her welfare. I shall inform Hughes to tell all of the servants that our guest should be called Lady Magnolia and you are to be referred to as Lord Peter in her presence. Now I suggest you go and speak to her. Perhaps talking to you will remind her she is
not
engaged to you. And do try to be charming, Adam.” She winked at him. “Like a proper duke should be.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Magnolia let her gaze travel around the opulent bedchamber. Now that she thought on it, the space didn’t seem familiar to her, not at all. But she supposed she’d simply never seen this room in her betrothed’s house before. After all, it was not as if she stayed here. No, the house of her father, the earl, was back in Grosvenor Square, not far. Apparently she’d suffered a fall while visiting this place. The duke and his sister seemed quite worried about her. Sister? The image of a blond girl flashed through her mind but she couldn’t quite place it. She rubbed the lump on her head. Oh, perhaps the injury had been more severe than she’d realized. Would Mama come and fetch her soon? She smiled to herself. Hopefully not
too
soon. She had quite enjoyed the look of concern on her betrothed’s face when he’d visited her earlier. And oh, my, but he was handsome, even more handsome than she recalled. She frowned. Why didn’t an image of him from before today conjure itself in her imagination? So strange. She rubbed her temples. Her head pounded.

She focused her thoughts on her future husband again. Peter. He was tall and slender with black hair and dark-green eyes that searched her face with an intensity that left her breathless. And he was charming, too. She didn’t remember him saying anything particularly charming today, but he certainly had been charming in the past. She was certain of it.

And she was planning her wedding to that handsome man. It would be an enormous affair. Planned for spring. Mother was beside herself with happiness, and she’d never seen Father so proud. How had she got so lucky in the marriage mart?

A knock sounded on the door, and she jumped.

“Come in,” she finally called after taking a deep, calming breath.

The door opened and Peter strode through it. This time she took a moment to examine his fine physique, though she lowered her head and glanced up at him from beneath her lashes so he wouldn’t suspect she was studying him. He was wearing black breeches, a startling white shirt, and a gray satin waistcoat. He’d apparently discarded the matching navy wool overcoat he’d been wearing earlier. His jaw was set, his hair was slightly curly, and he was looking at her with that same intensity as before. As if he could tell precisely what she was thinking. Her cheeks heated. She certainly hoped he couldn’t tell what she was thinking at the moment. She was thinking he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

He arched a dark brow. She sucked in her breath. Had he caught her staring? Yes. Definitely handsome. She was still waiting for the charming.

“Miss Makepeace,” he began, striding back and forth in front of the fireplace.

She frowned. “It’s Lady Magnolia.”

He paused momentarily and then nodded. “Of course. Lady Magnolia. How are you feeling?”

“My head still hurts quite a bit,” she admitted, pressing a temple again.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He cleared his throat. “Do you … Do you recall your address?”

She furrowed her brow. “My address?”

He folded his hands behind his back and continued his pacing. “Yes. The location of your, er, parents’ home?”

She tried to keep the smile from her face, because something told her he was completely serious. “Of course I recall my address, Your Grace.”

He seemed to flinch at the name, but apparently the answer pleased him. He expelled his breath looking positively relieved.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s 123 Grosvenor Square,” she offered matter-of-factly.

He closed his eyes and groaned.

“What’s the matter?” Her brow remained furrowed.

He opened his eyes again and fixed her with that dark-green stare. “My lady, I am intimately familiar with Grosvenor Square, and I can assure you there is no such address there as 123.”

She gave him a look that declared him officially daft in her opinion. “Of course there is. I live there with my parents, the Earl and Countess of Markwood.” She shook her head as if to say,
Everyone knows that.

Peter rubbed his forehead and then pressed his fingers over his lips. “Very well.”

She readjusted one of the pillows behind her head. “I expect you’ll send for Mother shortly. I cannot imagine why she let me out of the house without Esmeralda.”

He turned to her quickly. A flash of hope shone in his eyes. “Who is Esmeralda?”

“My lady’s maid, of course. Is she here? Did she witness my fall? Did you send her home to fetch Mother?”

The hope blinked out of his eyes. His hands fell to his sides. “No. She’s not here.”

“I can’t imagine where she’s got to. It’s quite unlike her to leave me.” She gasped and put a hand to her throat. “She wasn’t injured, was she?”

Peter turned toward her. “No,” he assured her. “She wasn’t injured. I believe she, er, left before you were injured.”

“I don’t remember being hit, you know,” she said. “I’ve no idea how it happened.”

“I saw it,” he admitted, looking at her with that same intensity. “You were in the street, the coach came around quickly. I was too far away to—” His glanced away, his words trailing off, and he stuck out his cheek with his tongue.

She waved a hand in the air. “Oh, Peter. Please don’t blame yourself. I know you would have saved me if you could.”

He swallowed. “I’m merely glad you weren’t hurt worse.” He shook his head. “Now, do you remember anything else? Any names or, say, what you were doing this morning?”

“This morning?” She furrowed her brow and searched her memory. “You know. I cannot recall. In fact, now that you mention it, I don’t even remember our visit.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “Our visit?”

“Yes, I was visiting, wasn’t I? Before the coach hit me, I mean. I assumed I’d been on my way home when—” Panic filled her chest. She clutched at the bedsheets. “I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember anything about this morning. Before the accident.”

He put his palms in the air and slowly lowered them. “Don’t worry. You’ve had quite a scare. You should rest. Just rest. You’ll remember soon. I’m sure of it.”

“Are you certain, Peter?” The panic slowly receded from her chest. She didn’t remember Peter being so calm and caring. Usually he was more brusque and authoritative. She appreciated the change in him, especially now when she was so frightened.

He nodded. “Yes.”

She expelled her breath, loud and long. “Thank you, Your Grace, for making me feel better.”

“I’m … my pleasure.”

“I do hope I’m entirely back to normal soon, however, because there are so many details to the wedding left unplanned.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, well. There’s no need to worry about that now.”

She rested her head back against the down pillows. “It’s not every day that a duke and the daughter of an earl get married, you know.”

“No,” he agreed, a wry smile on his face.

“Mother says we’re certain to empty every hothouse in the countryside of flowers, and of course we still haven’t decided upon the menu and what with the Prince Regent coming—” She stopped abruptly. “Oh, Peter. You’re looking green. Perhaps
you
should go lie down.”

CHAPTER NINE

Adam pushed open the door and strode into his brother’s study. “It didn’t work. All my questions seemed to accomplish was frightening the poor girl and—” He stopped short when he saw his oldest brother sitting behind the desk at the far end of the large room. Years of military training could not be denied. Despite the fact that the former lieutenant general was his brother, Adam stood at attention.

A wide grin spread across his brother’s face. Derek pushed back in his chair and crossed his knee over his opposite leg. “Go on,” he said. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“They most certainly are not,” Adam replied.

Lucy, who was curled up in a ball in one of the wide leather chairs that sat in front of Derek’s desk, laughed.

“But what’s this I hear about your being engaged?” Derek took a sip of brandy from a glass that sat on the desk in front of him. He pushed himself out of his chair. “Allow me to get you a drink. We must toast your impending nuptials.”

Lucy raised the teacup she cradled in her hand and smiled widely at Adam.

“I am decidedly
not
engaged, sir,” Adam replied.

Lucy patted the leather chair next to her, indicating to Adam to take a seat. “We were just discussing what to do next.”

“What is there to do?” Derek made his way over to the sideboard and splashed some brandy into another glass. Then he strode back over and took a seat behind his desk. He pushed the drink across the desktop to Adam.

Adam slid into the chair next to Lucy and hefted the snifter in his hand. “Precisely my point,” he replied, taking a sip. “Lucy asked me to go speak with the young lady just now, and it didn’t help.”

“Well, perhaps not yet,” Lucy said, bringing her teacup to her lips. “But something’s sure to trigger her recollection sooner or later. I suggest we talk to her, take her out of the house, anything to expose her to something that might spark a memory for her.”

Derek set his glass aside and folded his hands in front of him on the desktop. “That’s a good idea.”

Lucy smiled and nodded. “Thank you, darling. To that end, I propose we take her to the Findleys’ ball tomorrow night.”

Adam nearly spit his mouthful of brandy. “Take her to the Findleys’ ball? Have you gone mad?”

Lucy scrunched her nose at him in reply. “What’s so mad about it? Dr. Archibald told us to act normally. We’ve been planning to attend the ball.”

Adam took another long sip of his brandy. Apparently alcohol was in order if he was to have this conversation with his sister-in-law. “How in the devil can we bring her with us? The daft girl will be telling everyone that I’m someone named the Duke of Loveridge and she’s my betrothed.”

Derek grinned. “There is that consideration.”

Lucy got up and crossed over to the sideboard where she dropped another lump of sugar into her teacup. “Not if we manage her interactions properly.”

“How do you intend to do that?” Adam asked. “Keep her from speaking all evening?”

Lucy stirred her tea with a tiny silver spoon. “I’ll enlist Cass and Jane to meet us there. They’ll help. It won’t be so difficult. We’ll just spirit her away before the butler announces her. She may well see someone or something that reminds her of who she is.”

“Or it will further prove to her that she and I are betrothed and in Society together,” Adam replied.

“What will she wear?” Derek asked Lucy, steepling his fingers over his chest.

Adam glared at his brother. “You cannot actually be entertaining this notion.”

Derek shrugged. “I think it’s better than keeping her locked away in a bedchamber.”

Adam scrubbed a hand across his face. “She’s lost her memory. Until she recovers it, she
belongs
locked away in a bedchamber.”

Lucy proceeded as if Adam hadn’t said anything. “I’ll have my
modiste
come in the morning and alter one of my gowns for her use.”

Derek nodded. “Adam, you’ll need to pretend to be her betrothed, escort her there, et cetera. We’ll tell her that I’m
your
younger brother.”

“I repeat,” Adam said, leaning forward and pressing a finger to the desktop. “You cannot possibly be entertaining this insane notion.”

Lucy lifted her nose into the air. “I don’t see why you think it’s so insane, Adam. It’s our best chance of helping her remember who she is. Besides, she’s clearly a member of the
ton.
Her manners and speech are quite refined. Perhaps someone at the ball will recognize her and she’ll be reunited with her family before the night is through.”

Adam groaned.
That
was the argument that convinced him.

CHAPTER TEN

Adam woke the next morning and dressed in a blue coat, white shirt, and tan buckskin breeches, with black-top boots and a white cravat. Today was the day. He might have agreed to escort the mystery lady to the Findleys’ ball this evening, but he intended to have it out with Derek first. Adam stared into the looking glass as he tied his cravat. He groaned. What was happening to him? It was as if life had paused ever since Lady Magnolia—or whatever her name was—had come into it yesterday afternoon. He hadn’t even remembered to give Derek the piece of his mind he’d intended. Instead, the conversation he’d had with his brother yesterday had centered only on what to do with their mystery guest. It was madness. Very well. He’d been understandably distracted by the lady’s accident, but no more stalling. He would go directly downstairs this morning and inform Derek in no uncertain terms that he didn’t appreciate his older brother’s intervention in his assignment. The first order of business would be his living arrangements. Adam had been staying at Derek’s town house, but it was time for him to move out and get his own apartments, using his own money.

He strode down the stairs and into the breakfast room. Derek sat there with Lucy to his right. Adam straightened his cravat and cleared his throat. “May I have a word?”