“Yes well…” she smirked at him. “According to your aunt, the two of you abhor each other and yet we get along…so would you like to reconsider?”
“The fact that you got around Aunt Harriet is a singular miracle that simply speaks to the strength of your character,” he commented with an amused glance. “Better you than me, my dear.”
“You are both the same,” she said. “Too stubborn for your own good.”
Harry blinked in surprise. “Me? Stubborn? I beg to differ.”
Adelia laughed. “Of course you do,” she said easily.
“I beg your pardon,” said Lord Wolfe from behind them, his tone injured, but his grin was wide. “I happen to think being stubborn is a fine trait in a mate.”
“Yes, you stubborn men must stick together,” Adelia told him, laughing over her shoulder.
“I fear you make fun of us,” he shot back. “But out of curiosity, why have you not made an offer, Your Grace? You have completed your period of mourning, have you not? And you are clearly besotted.” He paused to elbow his companion in the side. “Not like this wench, though. She’s immune to my charms.” He sighed, pretending to be wistful. “Alone of all her kind.”
They all stopped, Adelia and Harry turning to face them. Beside him, Lady Melissa’s face was an utter picture: amazement, aching, anxiety. She was undoubtedly worried how Adelia would reply. Surely Lady Melissa knew she’d not reveal anything?
“I like you, Lord Wolfe, you are a good gentleman, if obtuse,” was what she settled for saying. “You deserve to be loved by your wife, don’t you agree?”
His humor faded, replaced by an expression of…hunger? Yearning? Adelia had the strangest feeling that he was fighting back a mawkish reaction. But then he was laughing again.
“Doubtful I’ll have that luxury,” Lord Wolfe said, “but thank you.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it, a genuine smile lighting his face.
Adelia hazarded a glance at Lady Melissa who, frankly, looked despondent. She faced forward once more, not wanting to call attention to her friend. They resumed their walk toward the stables.
“They love each other,” Harry whispered when they were a considerable distance away.
“Yes,” she whispered back, not surprised at his discernment. “You won’t tell anyone?”
“No.” He enclosed her hand, on his arm, with his own again. “Why can they not marry? Is it her rank?”
She sighed. “Isn’t it always?”
“Is it always?”
“Seems to be, doesn’t it?” She glanced up at him and found him watching her. She blushed and turned her eyes back to the stables as they approached. “When it comes to dynastic ambition, love loses out every time.”
“I don’t believe that,” Harry said, a note of stubbornness in his voice, Adelia was diverted to hear. “There must be a way.”
“If you can find one, I would very much enjoy learning your method.”
He pushed open the stable door and stepped aside to let her enter before him in.
“A skeptic,” his lip quirked in amusement. “I see that you will be hard to persuade.”
“Ah, but won’t the victory be all the sweeter for the challenge?” Adelia lifted her head to his, gaze snagging on his wet lips before she raised her eyes to his. Biting her bottom lip, she blinked at him.
In the dim interior of the stable, Harry’s eyes were shadowed, dark, with a soft gleam reflecting the scant light. His lips dropped slowly, as his gaze held hers and then she was enveloped in the scent of him as his soft lips captured hers in a kiss so brief yet intense that she was left reeling when he released her.
“I don’t think it’s possible,” he said hoarsely. “To be sweeter.”
Adelia’s breath came faster. He was so close, only inches separating them, and the smell of sandalwood and cheroot from him was making her dizzy in the most delicious way.
A snuffling sound from a stall at the far end of the stable shattered the fragile spell that surrounded them.
“That’s Pegasus,” he said. “Let’s go meet him.”
She accompanied him to the stall and stood back while he opened it. A pure white horse stood there, black eyes bright notwithstanding the stable’s gloom. He was a giant of a horse, and he shook his head as his midnight gaze found her golden one. Adelia held her breath while he stared at her, then took a step forward.
“Lady Adelia,” Harry said, “this is Pegasus.”
“Good morning, Pegasus,” she said, and slowly held out her hand for the creature to sniff. His nose was cold and wet as it snuffled over her fingers, and then he rubbed his head into her palm. His tongue came out as if inquiring after a carrot.
Adelia laughed, lifting glad eyes to Harry’s, beaming at him as she stroked over Pegasus’s head and fondled the soft triangles of his ears. “He likes me!”
“Did you doubt he would?” Harry reached out to pet his horse as well. “I didn’t.”
He smiled at her then, relieved and happy, and it was a smile of such sweetness that she had to blink back sudden tears.
Adelia moved her hand on Pegasus’s head until it brushed Harry’s. He twined his fingers with hers, his eyes never leaving her face.
“Are you done, My Lady?” asked Lady Melissa from the stable door, her keen notice missing nothing in her friend’s interaction with Harry.
“Yes,” Adelia said breathlessly. She snatched her hand back, glancing at Harry one last time, taking in how his dark eyes seemed almost to be burning, and then walked rapidly away.
She squeezed past Lady Melissa in the doorway and headed for the house, ignoring Lord Wolfe standing there and watching with great interest. She hurried to her chambers, feeling unsettled.
She was surprised by a knock on her door and she sighed before calling for whoever it was to come in. Dorothea poked her head in the door with a smile.
“I saw you ran off as if the devil himself was chasing you. I thought I would come and see what the matter was. Has the Duke not been behaving himself?”
Adelia laughed. “Oh, His Grace is the very soul of solicitous. That’s not the problem.”
Dorothea stepped into the room. “Then what is?”
Adelia sighed. She had to tell somebody. It might as well be her twin sister.
“I…we kissed.”
Dorothea gasped.
Adelia did not look at her. “Yes yes, I know that is probably expressly forbidden. But I could not help myself. And ever since then…well,” she glanced at Dorothea, “I want to do it again.”
“Do you?” Dorothea’s voice was strangely toneless; as if she was in shock. Adelia would not blame her if she was. But now that she had begun to speak, she could hardly stop.
“It was…” she touched her fingers to her lips, “I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
“I’m sure.” Dorothea was standing stock still by the door.
“Yes. Wait until Lord Braewood kisses you and then you shall see.”
Dorothea made a bitter sound; like a laugh but not as if she was happy. Adelia lifted her eyes to her sister. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Dorothea shook her head, “I am just…annoyed that you have beaten me to a first kiss.”
Adelia laughed. “Well…I’m sorry?”
Dorothea waved a dismissive hand. “We should go. Mother expects us to socialize with the guests and not lock ourselves away in our rooms.”
“I know…I just…was afraid that if they saw my face, they would all know.”
Dorothea held out a hand. “That’s what fans are for. Come now, let us go.”
Adelia got to her feet. “All right.”
Dorothea stood aside, “Please,” she said indicating that Adelia should go first. For some reason, Adelia hesitated, not wanting Dorothea at her back. Then she shook her head, feeling silly.
“All right then.” She said and stepped out into the corridor.
Chapter 25
Forget Me Not
Harry h
eard the screaming from inside the house and took off at a run, forgetting his dignity entirely. It sounded too much like Adelia for him not to. He skidded to a halt as he found her at the bottom of the stairs, her sister’s head cradled in her lap.
“Help me!” she cried, tears trickling down her face.
Harry dropped to the ground at her side, “What happened?”
“I-I s-she came to get me from my room. Th-this is all my fault!” her breath was hitching and she was becoming more and more hysterical. Other guests had begun to gather round and soon the Earl was there, instructing a pair of footmen to carry Lady Dorothea to her room. Both girls were rather disheveled and Harry began to urge guests back outside, to give them some privacy. He called the butler, instructing him to hand out glasses of wine to the guests. The Earl had already sent for a physician so there was not much else he could do.
Somewhere deep in his heart he could not help feeling relief that it was Lady Dorothea, and not Adelia who was hurt. He wished her a speedy recovery, nonetheless.
The other guests were gossiping excitedly about what had occurred and there were already twitterings of foul play. Harry gritted his teeth in frustration. He was sure, however Lady Dorothea had landed at the bottom of the stairs, it had nothing to do with Adelia.
He ventured into the house in search of the Earl and found him loitering at the top of the stairs, his face grave.
“My Lord? Can I help you with anything?” he asked.
The Earl shook his head. “It seems she slipped on a wet patch.” He pointed at the floor. “Tis a wonder she’s still alive. She could have broken her neck.”
The Earl was quite pale and Harry reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Well, she is still alive and she is a strong lady. A survivor. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Thank you. Her mother and sister are with her now, as well as the physician. I expect we shall be hearing something soon.”
“I shall get rid of the guests, shall I?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Harry went back down the stairs, noting the dense carpeting which had probably saved Lady Dorothea’s life. He stood in front of the guests, clapping his hands to get their attention. On behalf of the Earl, he thanked them for attending. “We appreciate your discretion in this matter and apologize for cutting the festivities short. Someone will be by to help you with your hats and coats and any other luggage you may have. The Earl apologizes for being unable to bid you goodbye in person.” He bowed to the listening crowd and then left, nodding to the butler to take over. He had no doubt that the man would have everyone out of the premises within the hour.
* * *
She woke up to pain, dizziness, and disorientation. The rest came slowly—she was lying on a soft surface, there were chirping birds nearby, the smell of tea and horses pervaded the room as well as lavender and cinnamon.
She tried to recall what had happened, but she came up blank. Darkness filled the place where her memories should be and her heart beat faster at that realization.
“Tarry a bit, My Lady. Don’t move so much. You have been hurt quite badly.”
Blinking, she opened her eyes. The room was too bright, so she groaned and tried to hide her face in the pillows, only to find out that turning around hurt too much. “Beg pardon—” she managed to mumble.
“You had an accident. Fell down some stairs,” the stranger said.
She had an inkling that she was supposed to know this voice but once again, there was no memory. It was disconcerting. A young woman with the same tawny hair she could see hanging down the sides of her head sat down next to her. With her help, she sat up and drank some water, feeling terribly awkward because she couldn’t do that herself. Her head felt like it was going to explode.
“Who are you?”
The woman paused for a second, shock on her face. Then she smiled again. “Adelia.” She got pulled into a hug. “It’s fine, the physician said you hit your head quite hard and might be disoriented for a while. Don’t you worry, I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
“Slow down a bit.” She groaned, opening her eyes again to take a better look around. She deduced that they were in some sort of abode and judging from the furniture, it was quite a well-to-do household. From the care she was receiving, she was likely not employed in service but was an honored guest. “So…I fell, you said?” She looked to the blonde-haired girl who was smiling benignly at her, although something felt…wrong about all of this.
“Yes. You had come to fetch me from my room and I think you slipped at the top of the stairs. Someone had spilled some water. You can be sure that whoever did it will pay.”
She blinked, drinking another sip of water and trying to come up with an appropriate reaction to that statement, which implied she was somebody important to whoever these people were. She also did not know how to respond to the prospect of people getting punished for a mistake. “Well, who am I, then?”
“You don’t even remember your own name?”
“Obviously not.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Adelia looked down. “I’m not quite used to this.”
“It’s all right. I suppose.”
“Thanks. Anyway, your name is Lady Dorothea Harrington. We’re sisters.”
“Hmm.” Try as she might, the name did not seem to fit. She leaned back against the pillows because she was still in a lot of pain.
Do I even want to know what my body looks like?
“What if I cannot remember anything?”
“That would be tragic.” The girl, Adelia, sighed. “But you are able to speak and I assume you can still walk?” She paused, looking at Dorothea for confirmation. Dorothea nodded. “Well then, once the physician examines you, we will know more. Until then, I suggest you don’t borrow trouble.”
Dorothea nodded again. “I suppose you’re right.” She sighed, wanting to drink more but at the same time, she really didn’t want to have to swallow something again. Even if it was just water. Talking hurt enough but she needed answers more than anything.
“Get some more rest.” Adelia smiled at her, got up and sauntered out of the room. She watched her sway slowly away and could not imagine having such grace. Dorothea hated not having her memories. It was lonely and frightening.
When her sister returned, she was accompanied by a young man with a black leather case. The sight of it filled her with the grue. Dorothea wished she could remember why.
“Good day! It is good to see you awake. You had your parents very anxious. How do you feel?”
“Everything hurts and I have lost all my memories. But I’m alive, I suppose.”
The man chuckled. “That’s good. I’m Mr. Wilson, by the way.” He sat the case down next to the bed and leaned over her. “Now let me check your head. You have a little bump here at the back as if you hit something really hard. I suspect the swelling is the reason you cannot recall anything. Our goal will be to get it to go down.”
Dorothea nodded at him, his soothing voice and gentle hands giving her hope that all this would get better soon.
After Mr. Wilson had deemed her to be well enough for the moment, she closed her eyes again. Mr. Wilson was convinced that it would take a few days for her memories to come back, but they would be there again. Now she just had to be patient and somehow she knew that wasn’t her strongest trait.
“Will you keep me company?”
“Of course.” Adelia sat down on the bed again. “I can tell you everything that you need to know, maybe that will help.”
Dorothea smiled. “Yes, thank you, that sounds like a good idea.”
At least it would keep her occupied, stop her from wondering too much. Mr. Wilson would probably check on her again and she had already been warned that other people wanted to see her—her parents and others—but for now she was happy with knowing her sister was close.
* * *
Dorothea was allowed to venture out of the room in a day or so with Adelia holding her arm so she would not
fall again. She sat down in the parlor where the lady she’d been told was her mother fussed over her, while her father hovered over them, seemingly at a loss for what to do.
She looked toward Adelia, the only familiar one in the room by virtue of having Dorothea’s exact face, and smiled. She reached out a hand, and squeezed her sister’s hand.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’m so glad you came to live with us.” She whispered with a smile. Adelia blanched as if she had not expected that, even after having told Dorothea the whole sorry story. She felt that in a way, this was a new beginning for both of them. Just as their parents must be strangers to Adelia, they were for her as well. They could learn everything together.
A Vixen For The Devilish Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 21