“That would certainly be welcome.” She would need to hire a good steward to manage the property. Adam would be wonderful, but it was unlikely he would be here for very long. She gave him a sidelong glance, admiring his seat on the horse. Though if he never regained his memory…
Her vague dream ran jarringly into the knowledge that he might have a wife waiting with increasing fear for her husband to come home. If Adam were Mariah’s husband, she would certainly start searching if he disappeared. Horrors, what if he had a wife who did exactly that, and showed up at Hartley Manor to demand her husband back?
Mariah shuddered, thinking she had entirely too much imagination. She was glad when Adam pointed at the church tower just visible over the top of a hill. “Is that the village? Can we visit?”
She bit her lip uneasily. She would much prefer not having to introduce Adam to the village as her “husband.” But it must happen sooner or later. “I suppose we can, if you’re feeling strong enough. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather return home and rest?”
He gave her a bright and probably lying smile. “I’m sure.”
He most likely wanted to push himself as hard as possible to rebuild his strength. Male to the bone. “Very well, the village it is. The road forks soon. If we take the lane on the right, it will take us down to the high street.”
They reached the fork a few minutes later and turned into the lane, which was sunken so deeply from generations of use that it was almost a tunnel. Adam said, “When it rains, the water must rush through here like a tidal wave.”
Mariah studied the steeply slanted sides, thinking she wouldn’t like to have to climb out of the lane if there was a heavy storm. “I suspect you’re right, but I haven’t seen that. I don’t usually travel this route.”
They were nearing the village when they heard the frantic barking of a dog. Frowning, Adam urged his horse into a trot, Mariah doing the same. They rounded a curve and saw three boys throwing rocks at a half-grown dog. In its attempts to escape, the small creature was racing toward Mariah and Adam, but a bad limp slowed it down and the sides of the lane were too steep for it to scramble up and away.
As she watched, horrified, a stone thrown by the largest boy struck the dog. The dog yipped while the younger boys howled with delight. Adam kicked his horse into a gallop and thundered down on the boys. “Halt!”
He swung from his horse and snapped, “How dare you abuse a helpless creature! Where are your parents?”
“Tha’ dog don’t belong to nobody!” the oldest boy protested. “My da said to get it away from the house.”
“So you decided to torture the poor beast,” Adam said in a voice that bit to the bone. “Life is precious and never to be ended casually. Your behavior is a disgrace. How would you like to be stoned to death when you were only trying to escape?”
The boys looked as if they wanted to run, but they couldn’t escape easily any more than the dog had been able to. “We didn’t want to kill the ugly critter, just make it go away,” one of the smaller boys protested.
Mariah dismounted and scooped the panting pup into her arms. Under blood and filth were floppy ears and brown and black patches mixed with white. She guessed some hound ancestry mixed with heaven knew what else.
The dog struggled at first, but she held tight, stroking it as she said soothingly, “You poor pup. Don’t worry, you’re safe now.” Too tired to run anymore, it settled in her arms.
She had missed part of Adam’s dressing down of the boys, but when she glanced up, the culprits looked near tears. Adam ended, “Do I have your word of honor that you won’t act with such cruelty again?”
They all nodded mutely, then turned and raced away when he released them, saying, “See that you live up to that.”
As the boys vanished around a bend, Mariah said, “Do you think they’ll behave better in the future?”
“One lecture won’t reform them entirely, but perhaps they’ll think twice before casually tormenting other creatures.” He turned and gently took the dog from her. Beginning to recover, the dog reared up and began licking Adam’s chin. He laughed. “She has a remarkably forgiving disposition. Shall we keep her?”
Mariah had always loved animals, but her wandering life hadn’t allowed for pets. Now that she had a real home, it was high time she acquired some animal companions. “If no one in the village claims her, we might as well since she doesn’t look fit for anything but charming susceptible humans.” She scratched the puppy’s head. It lolled happily into her hand. “What shall we call her?”
“Bhanu,” Adam said promptly.
She frowned. “I’ve never heard that before. What does it mean?”
He looked blank. “I have no idea. But in my mind, it’s definitely a dog’s name.”
“Another piece of the past arrived without explanations,” Mariah said wryly, thinking how attractive it made a man to be kind to animals. “Bhanu she is. Look at the size of those feet. She’s going to be big.”
“She’s an armful already. I’ll carry her back home. I hope that leg isn’t broken.”
Adam set Bhanu down and helped Mariah into her saddle. Then he handed her the dog, mounted his own horse, and took Bhanu back. The dog settled down happily across his lap.
At a walking pace, they continued down the lane and into the village. After a detour to look at the small waterfront, home to several fishing boats, they rode down the high street. Adam said thoughtfully, “Hartley looks familiar. Not that I’ve been here, but it seems like any number of other English villages.”
“It may be typical, but it’s very pretty,” Mariah said a touch defensively.
“Very pretty indeed,” he said, smiling at her.
She colored and turned from his gaze. She was not surprised to see exactly what she’d feared: people peering out of windows and some even finding reasons to suddenly emerge from their cottages. As the owner of the largest property in the area, her activities were of great interest in Hartley. Especially the acquisition of an unexpected husband.
First to intercept them was Mrs. Glessing, whom Mariah had met in church. The woman was the village gossip, eager to be the first with the news on any subject. “Mrs. Clarke, how lovely to see you!” She stepped into the road so that they must stop to greet her. “And this handsome fellow must be your husband? I heard he’d arrived up at the manor, and quite a tale it was about him being rescued from the sea!”
Mariah had known the story was too good not to spread through the village instantly. “Indeed he is,” Mariah said, keeping the introductions as brief as possible.
Mrs. Glessing frowned when she saw the dog. “Did that creature trouble you? It’s been skulking around the village.”
“If she has no owner, we’re taking her home.” Adam was polite but he showed a cool reserve Mariah hadn’t seen before. He also proved to be a master at avoiding answers as Mrs. Glessing probed for information about his origins. When they took their leave, Mrs. Glessing knew no more than when she intercepted them.
Luckily, no one else was bold enough to stop them in the street, though a number of people Mariah had met in church or the shops waved at her. She smiled and nodded back but didn’t stop. As they rode past the inn, the Bull and Anchor, she wondered if George Burke had left town. She certainly hoped so.
“Isn’t the church handsome?” she said as they approached. “And look, there’s Julia Bancroft coming out with the vicar, Mr. Williams. She lives nearby and helps out at the church regularly.”
Mariah’s brows drew together as she watched her friend and the vicar together. She had admired Mr. Williams since she met him. He was kind and scholarly and devoted to his church and parishioners, and rather handsome as well. She’d thought he regarded her with special warmth, and even daydreamed sometimes about what it would be like to be a vicar’s wife.
But he was not for her. He was the sort of gentleman who belonged with a woman like her imaginary sister, Sarah. Or Julia, who was laughing at something the vicar said. M
ariah wondered if a quiet romantic relationship was growing between the two. Certainly Julia would make an exemplary vicar’s wife.
With a mild pang, Mariah released her dreams of Mr. Williams. Though he was an admirable person, a good part of her interest had been because he was the most eligible and attractive man in the area. She much preferred Adam even though she knew nothing of his past. He may or may not be a gentleman, but it didn’t matter. He was the one she dreamed about now.
Adam, who might have a wife waiting anxiously for his return.
Julia glanced up and saw them. “Mariah, how good to see you. Mr. Clarke, you shouldn’t be riding yet.” But she spoke with the wry amusement of a woman who accepted that patients didn’t always behave.
Mariah was grateful that Julia performed the introductions, because that spared her having to lie to the vicar. Mr. Williams smiled warmly and offered his hand to Adam. “I heard of your rescue, Mr. Clarke. Surely it was the hand of providence that spared your life and brought you home to your wife.”
“I am very aware of that.” Adam shook the vicar’s hand. “I would dismount, but that would disturb the dog and she’s already had a difficult day.”
Williams laughed and scratched Bhanu’s floppy ears. “She’s a stray who has been wandering around the village. Probably she was driven off one of the farms. She seems happy now.”
Mariah said, “Julia, could you do a quick examination of Bhanu’s left rear leg? Some boys were throwing stones at her and she was limping when Adam rescued her.”
“Poor beast.” Julia gently probed the dog’s leg. Bhanu yipped and drew her leg back but didn’t struggle.
“I don’t think the leg is broken,” Julia said after her examination. “Just bruised. She was most fortunate.” Julia pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her hands. “And I’d suggest a bath as soon as you get her home!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Adam said with a grin. “Mr. Williams, it’s a pleasure to meet you. We shall see you in church this Sunday.”
As they collected their mounts and headed home, Mariah thought that she and Adam were becoming positively domestic. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
Chapter Eleven
He stood in a vast, echoing chamber, the air perfumed with tangy scents that were exotic yet hauntingly familiar.
The darkness was choking, so thick he felt he could hold it in his hands. Then brass lamps slowly ignited around the edges of the hall. The flickering oil lights hinted at a richly decorated ceiling and walls.
He turned, trying to orient himself, and was startled to find a great golden goddess towering over him. She wore an expression of remote benevolence as she studied him. Her four graceful arms seemed entirely natural. After a long glance, she turned away, as if he were a creature of no importance. Desperate to regain her attention, he ran after her, but she dissolved into the darkness.
A flash of light caught his eye and he turned to see another huge golden figure. This time a god danced in a circle of flames, his many-armed movements a timeless balance of power and serenity. Adam tried to approach, but the god raised his arms and was consumed by blazing fire.
Adam was so small compared to these beings, a mouse among giants. As the thought formed, he saw another great golden god. This one had a human body topped by the head of an elephant with wise and ancient eyes. He had seen this being before, though he could not remember where.
Heart pounding frantically at the strangeness of it all, he fell to his knees to honor the god. But the shining golden presence also disappeared, leaving emptiness.
He climbed to his feet, aching with loss and half suffocated by the incense-laden air. Another movement caught his eye. He turned and saw a real woman who was of normal size and had normal limbs. She knelt before a cluster of lamps and mounds of brilliant flowers, but when he caught his breath, she rose and faced him. Her garments were flowing veils of vivid color and gilt embroidery that enhanced her dark-haired beauty. Seeing him, she smiled radiantly and offered her hands.
His heart bursting with happiness, he ran toward her, knowing she would fill the emptiness of his heart. But just before he reached her, he was seized in a powerful grip and dragged away. Frantically he kicked and twisted and bit to escape his captor, but he was helpless.
Helpless. The golden gods had vanished, the rich, spicy scents faded to dust,…and the dark-haired woman was gone forever.
Adam awoke, racked with anguish. When a raspy tongue licked his cheek, he wrapped one arm around Bhanu, grateful to have a warm, loving body in his bed. The dog must have sensed his distress.
Why had this dream made him feel such despair? Maybe because the other dreams seemed to reflect real experience, but this one came from the world of visions and hallucinations. He tried to visualize those great golden figures, their slow, sinuous movements attuned to a different rhythm of life, but the details eluded him. They were familiar, yet he couldn’t remember why.
He had seen the elephant-headed being before, when he remembered a long-ago garden. And the beautiful dark-haired woman was the one in the garden and real, he was sure of it. But what was her relationship to him? She was his age or a little younger. And she was forever gone. Perhaps that was why the dream burned with a sense of loss so profound that it had shaped his very soul.
Could his amnesia be a way of concealing that loss from himself because remembering would be unbearable? Mariah was an anchor in high winds, but she knew surprisingly little about his life. She said that was because they hadn’t been together long enough to learn much of each other, but he suspected that the real problem was that he had told her very little.
Had he committed a great crime? Or suffered unspeakable tragedy? If so, a blow on the head might have given him a blessed release from an unendurable past.
Feeling ill, he pushed himself up in the bed. It was deep, dark night, but he doubted he would fall asleep again. Though he closed his eyes and reached for peace, his mind was too chaotic for meditation.
He gave up trying when Bhanu lurched across his lap making whuffling noises. He scratched the dog’s head. Though no more handsome than she’d been when he found her, she was now considerably cleaner. “Who said you could sleep on the bed? I believe we have discussed your sleeping arrangements and decided on the carpet in front of the fireplace.”
Bhanu gazed up worshipfully, ignoring his nonsense. The faint light from the window made her black and white face look clownish. He couldn’t help smiling. While he would prefer the company of his warm and beautiful wife, the dog was much better than nothing. “Do you want to come to the library?” Bhanu’s ears perked up.
“You’re thinking a walk and food. It’s not much of a walk, but afterward, I’ll find you something to eat.” He slid from the bed and donned the warm banyan and oversized slippers, then lit a lamp and headed to the manor’s library. Perhaps he could find a book that would tell him what he needed to know.
In keeping with the rest of the estate, the library showed little care or thought. There were only a few shelves of books, and those probably bought used to make a show of learning. Half were bound volumes of sermons or collections of old and uninteresting magazines. But the sheer randomness of the selection meant that possibly there might be a volume that would help him unlock the secrets of his mind. He turned up the lamp and began studying the books.
Mariah was on her way to the kitchen to find a late-night meal when she heard a sound in the small room that was rather grandly called the library. Wondering if Bhanu was exploring the house or yearning to be let out, she detoured there and found Adam methodically scanning the shelves by lamplight.
Raising her own lamp, she said, “Adam? Are you looking for something in particular?”
Seeing her, Bhanu bounced over and jumped up in joyful greeting. Adam merely turned, his face drawn. “I had another dream, this one of strange beings and symbols. They were familiar, as if they’re part of my past, yet I can’t remember.” His expression changed. “I can’t remember!
I tell myself that soon I will, that the pieces will start falling into place. By day, I can believe that. By night, it’s…harder. What if I never recall my past? What if I am condemned to be always alone in my own mind?”
Until now, he’d seemed so composed about his situation that it was shocking to see the raw pain in his face. Except for a few fading bruises, he no longer looked injured. Even the head bandage was gone, because the wound was healing well. But his spirit was heartbreakingly vulnerable.
She set her lamp on the table and crossed the room to take his hands. “You might never remember,” she said gravely, “but that doesn’t mean you have to be alone. Look at the memories we’ve created in just the last few days.”
His expression eased. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mariah. It’s frightening to imagine what it would have been like if I’d washed ashore in a place of strangers with no one to tell me my name and care if I lived or died.”
His words were both knife and chain. Though her distaste for her masquerade worsened daily, she couldn’t tell him that he had indeed come ashore among strangers. He needed to believe in her.
What if he never remembered his true identity? If he didn’t, and he wanted her, then, by God, she would be his wife. If he had a wife elsewhere, eventually that woman would accept widowhood and perhaps find another husband.
If Adam was doomed to be a man without a past, he was hers. She had met more than her share of men both eligible and ineligible, and Adam was the only one she wanted for herself. He was kind and funny and intelligent—just what she wanted in a husband. If he never recalled his identity…well, he could find a new one here.
Together they could run Hartley Manor in peace and prosperity—though she would arrange for a proper marriage ceremony. She would tell Adam that since he was in some ways a new man, they needed to renew their vows.
Loving a Lost Lord Page 9