The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife

by J. Jade Jordan

  Who... Who was he? He was stunned into utter stillness at the numbing thought.

  Oh my god! Who was he? No name came to mind. Who the hell was he?

  He encountered only total blankness. Terror raced through his body. Ruthlessly, he tamped it down.

  “Who am I? What is my name?” The sound of his alarmed questions startled him. He didn’t even recognize his own voice!

  For a few stunned moments she seemed not to understand what he was asking and then, clearly shocked, she said, “You can’t remember who you are?”

  “I’m afraid not.” He tried to keep his composure. But wasn’t it obvious he couldn’t remember anything?

  She looked dumbfounded. She must be disappointed, hurt even. He muttered, “Forgive me, I can’t remember.”

  Her reaction puzzled him. He’d swear he’d glimpsed relief flit through those brown eyes. She quickly averted them. Moments later, when she again met his gaze, there was disbelief and doubt.

  She didn’t believe him!

  But why would he lie? And how could she think he’d lie about something so serious? Was she accustomed to him telling lies? Was he a liar?

  “You… you are… Reed,” she blurted. Her hand quickly covered her mouth, as though she wished she hadn’t told him.

  “Reed?” his voice cracked.

  “Y… es,” her soft voice hesitated.

  Reed. Didn’t sound familiar. He grunted. He couldn’t very well ask her who she was or if she was his wife. He may not recall much, but he knew a woman would be highly insulted if her husband forgot her name.

  “What’s happened to me? Why can’t I remember who I am... or anything?” He heard his voice begin to rise in agitation and forced himself to calm down. Not giving her a chance to answer, he asked, “Why am I here like this? Am I ill?”

  “Not really.” Her expressive eyes said she was beginning to believe him. “You tripped and fell and hit your head hard on the foot of a dresser. You have a huge lump on your skull the size of a goose egg.” Her hand pointed to the spot.

  He raised his hand to touch it. Oddly enough, despite finding the sizeable lump with his fingers, he felt only a dull pain. “How terribly clumsy of me.” He sent her a wry smile.

  She acknowledged his paltry attempt at humor with a shy little smile, then added, “You’ve been unconscious for over fifteen hours. I was worried, so we’ve summoned a physician.”

  She looked as if she now wished she hadn’t. Had they not sufficient funds?

  She set the glass down on the table. “We’ve been waiting quite awhile for him, but he should be here any moment now. The woman he was attending was expecting twins.” She turned back and began moving toward the door. “I’ll go see if he’s arrived.” She looked anxious to leave. And before he could stop her, she was gone.

  Just like that. Nothing more. No explanation of who she was in relation to him.

  Of course, she must be shocked that he was unable to remember a thing.

  Not a thing!

  Panic welled up again. He took a deep breath. Then another. Nothing to be gained by losing control. He’d find a way to recover what he’d lost, no matter what!

  He didn’t know how long he lay there trying to keep the horror of remembering nothing at bay, searching for something familiar to latch onto. Voices! Yes, voices were coming. He turned his head anxiously toward the door, striving not to let his fear show.

  Brown Eyes — she hadn’t given him her name — returned with a man, carrying a huge black bag. A Scot, he’d wager. With that ruddy coloring and those sharp blue eyes!

  “This is Dr. Graham. He’s come to see about your head.”

  She smiled sideways at the physician. Reed didn’t like the admiring look the man sent her when she turned away from him.

  He didn’t know why, but there was something not quite right about this situation. Had he unwittingly become embroiled in some nefarious plot? There was a sense of unreality about all of this. Maybe this man was only pretending to be a doctor. He looked far too young to be a qualified physician.

  One thing was becoming clear to Reed about who he was. He may have no memory, but he had far too much imagination. He needed to cultivate some patience. There’d be a logical explanation soon and all would be well again.

  “Good day, Mr. Leighton. Or not so good a one for you, it seems.” Approaching the bed, the physician bestowed an apologetic smile on him.

  Reed noticed Brown Eyes start with surprise. What startled her? He wasn’t going to ask in front of the doctor, so he set it aside for later. Right now, he had more important things to think about.

  His name was “Leighton”? That wasn’t familiar either. No more familiar than “Reed”.

  The physician pressed his fingers lightly against the side of Reed’s throat. “Pulse is fine.” He put his head down to listen to Reed’s heart. “Heartbeat is good.”

  His fingers felt around for the lump on Reed’s head. “That’s quite a bump you have. No wonder it knocked your memory out of you.” He laughed heartily at his own joke, then seeing his patient’s strained face, sobered. “You remember nothing at all?”

  At Reed’s stiff shake of the head, he said, “In that case, I’d advise you to get plenty of rest. Your memory should begin to come back as your head heals.”

  The physician turned back to Brown Eyes. “Make sure he gets complete bed rest for a few days, Mrs. Leighton, and then he can get up. But he must continue to go slowly until his memory returns. No sudden movements, no racing about, nothing that will agitate the inside of his head.”

  Ah… So she was his wife! A pleased thrill darted up his spine. He glanced over at her. She seemed distressed by the physician’s words. Had she thought the man would be able to bring his lost memory back, on the spot? Oh, how he wished she’d been correct, if that was her assumption.

  Graham looked back at Reed and, like an admonishing parent, said, “And you must not tax your wife by asking her endless questions. It will be hard enough for her to care for you without you pestering her with queries.” He offered a sympathetic smile to Brown Eyes before turning back to Reed. “Besides, the answers would only serve to confuse you. It will be best for you to remember in your own time. If you listen to other people’s ideas, you could jeopardize your chances of ever recovering your own memory. You might replace your memories with theirs.”

  The doctor scribbled an order for a medicinal potion for Reed’s sore head and a sedative to help him sleep.

  To help him sleep! As if he hadn’t already slept far too long. Fifteen hours too long. Long enough to have forgotten his entire life!

  Graham closed and picked up his medical bag. “Is there anything more I can do for you?”

  Reed heard Brown Eyes, his wife, take an audible breath. Glancing at her, he noted how wooden her expression had become. Her back hunched as if to ward off a blow. She looked as if she feared a dire secret was about to be uncovered. Talk about fanciful ideas. That knock on his head was causing more than just memory loss.

  He wanted to yell at the man that he wouldn’t know if there was anything else!

  His wife paused. She did have something else to say. Then, she shook her head.

  “In that case, I’ll be on my way.” Graham walked briskly to the door. “Let us hope your memory comes back quickly, Mr. Leighton, but if it doesn’t, you must remain patient.” He smiled reassuringly. “Count yourself lucky. If you had to lose your memory, at least it happened at home, among loved ones, rather than with strangers.” Then he turned to Brown Eyes. “And don’t hesitate to send for me if you need anything, Mrs. Leighton. I’ll be happy to assist you in any way at all.”

  Of that Reed had no doubt. He felt his blood simmering. If the man hadn’t just come to help him, he might have allowed it to spill over and warn the physician off. Even had she not been his wife, he’d have been tempted to do so. He must be a jealous fellow.

  Walking to the door with the doctor, his wife said, “I’ll see you out.”
>
  Graham’s hand was on the door knob when Reed stopped him. “Have all your patients like me recovered their memories eventually?”

  He was not reassured by the disconcerted expression that passed swiftly across Graham’s countenance. Plastering a confident smile on his handsome face, the doctor said, “No need to worry. Get lots of sleep and eat well. A healthy-looking young man like you will be back to yourself before you know it.” He seemed to know his words were not the encouragement he might wish. He gave an I-can’t-do-any-better shrug, bade Reed good night, and left the room with Brown Eyes.

  His wife! His first thoughts focused on Brown Eyes. He didn’t feel married. But it felt good to have someone special of his very own. It made him feel less alone in this cloud of nothingness.

  * * *

  Tally, on the other hand, was horrified. “Doctor!” She called as he walked swiftly down the hallway toward the stairs. “Dr. Graham!”

  He turned with an inquiring look.

  “I… um… Dr. Graham. I am not that man’s wife!”

  “You aren’t?” He was obviously surprised.

  “No!” Realizing she was almost shouting, she lowered her tone. “Now, he thinks I am! What am I supposed to tell him?”

  He stepped down to continue descending the stairs. “It would be best if you didn’t have to tell him right away. Couldn’t you delay revealing that?” he said, then, paused to ask. “Is your husband here? I’ll talk to him and explain the mix-up.” He looked around as if expecting to see her spouse lolling idly about in the hallway!

  “He’s away at the moment. He has business out of town.”

  “When will he return?”

  “Not for many weeks, perhaps months. His business takes him to North America.” Not ever, she wanted to say. He’s just a figment of Monsieur’s plan to make her appear more respectable. Some people were chary of renting to young, unmarried ladies living alone.

  “Hmm… How is it you come to know this man?”

  He was making her feel guilty. Did he think she was involved in an illicit affair with another man! “I don’t… not really.” At his surprised look, she said, “He’d just arrived when he tripped and hit his head. He told us he was a friend of my brothers and had stopped by to see if they were in town.”

  “I see.” He paused. “So he doesn’t live here. Where does he live?”

  “I have no idea.” She hurried on to avoid him asking where he had hit his head in the relatively bare hallway. “The truth is, I had never met him prior to his arrival last evening and I know nothing about him.” Not even his name! Her voice rose in alarm at the idea that she had a total stranger on her hands; one who remembered nothing about himself.

  “Unusual circumstances, to be sure. I’m afraid my advice remains unchanged. Since you cannot send him home and have no knowledge of any body who could care for him, you must not say or do anything that will upset him, because he might never recover his memory if you do.”

  “But I can’t very well keep him here. He’s a complete stranger!”

  “But where else can he go?”

  His tone was so reasonable, it made her feel small. Here was a fellow human being, he seemed to say, and you are expected to help him. That was fine for him. He thought her a married woman! What could she say, that their visitor had not come via the front door? But how was she, an unmarried woman alone, expected to keep a strange man in her home? “Surely there must be some place for people... situations like this!”

  “You don’t want to send any friend of your brothers to such a place, I assure you.” He took his hat and gloves from Foster.

  Tally was just as certain that she did want to send him there… wherever!

  He must have sensed her ambivalence. “Why don’t you write to your brothers and ask them about their friend?” he suggested.

  “I… They’re in Italy so it will take some time.” She’d been about to agree with him, since it was obvious he wasn’t going to help her by taking the man away to be healed somewhere else, then she realized, “But how can I explain who he is to them, when I have no idea?”

  “Quite the dilemma,” the physician said. He picked up his bag and moved to the door that Foster was now holding open. “Give it a few days. Leave things settle for now. That shouldn’t be too difficult, should it? Just don’t give him any information about himself. Let him recall things on his own.”

  He’d ignored everything she’d just told him. She knew absolutely nothing about the intruder upstairs to tell him!

  Chapter Four

  Foster was waiting for her in the hallway. “So what did the physician say about our captive?”

  “Sh…” Tally hushed him. He insisted on calling their intruder a “captive” and she knew that once he had an idea in his head, it was hard to persuade him otherwise. “Nothing helpful, I’m afraid.” She spoke in low tones. “What are we going to do? He doesn’t remember a thing and Dr. Graham says it will take lots of rest and time and …” her lip trembled. “H…he…”

  “There, there, Missy,” The old man offered comfort in the only way he knew. He patted her back a little awkwardly.

  But she knew he was anxious to hear the rest of what he’d overheard earlier.

  “He…?” Foster prompted. She paused and he growled impatiently, “Just spit it out.”

  She hated it when he was annoyed with her, especially when she was already feeling guilty. “It’s possible he might never get his memory back. And it’s all my fault!” she wailed.

  “Naturally. ‘Cuz ye were the one climbing the wall into someone else’s window, weren’t you?” He never passed up an opportunity to wield sarcasm, though he usually reserved it for others.

  “No, but I needn’t have shot him.” She blamed herself for having reacted too slowly. “If only I had run for help!” Or slammed the window shut and locked it, why hadn’t she thought of that?

  “Really? And where might you have done that? Out in the street perhaps? And whose reputation would be lying in tatters today had ye done that?”

  “I know, I know…” she grumbled. “Still…”

  “What you need to do is find yerself a companion.”

  “You know I can’t afford to do that.”

  “If I get hold of those brothers of yours, I’m going to hang them up on the highest tree by their toes! Stealing from their younger sister! Who ever heard of gentlemen doing such a thing?”

  At her wry look, he muttered, “Any gentleman worth his salt, anyway. Them two ain’t never been worth much.”

  She’d have liked to defend the twins against his harsh criticism but, in truth, she felt the same way. Ever since she’d discovered they’d convinced her attorney to put her inheritance and savings in their charge. She’d immediately changed attorneys and was in the process of fighting to get back control of her money, but the twins had left her well-laid plans in shambles and now, with Monsieur’s disappearance, she had only enough funds to keep going for perhaps another month. After that, she’d be forced to go home to Evesham.

  “Well, you see… the doctor believed we were a couple. He must have thought that because I was Mrs. Leighton, then Mr. Gordon had to be Mr. Leighton.”

  Foster grumbled his disapproval.

  “When I told him we weren’t married, that I don’t even know the man, he–”

  “You told him yon Gordon climbed in the window?” His eyes almost bulged out of his face.

  “No, of course not,” she answered. “I told him the man had just arrived and claimed he was a friend of my brothers and wanted to know if they were in Town.”

  Her staunchest supporter exhaled noisily. His obvious relief echoed her own that she’d been able to come up with that story on the spur of the moment. From now on, they had better work out their stories ahead of time.

  “He said I must not tell... Mr. Gordon that we’re not married. The shock could harm him so that he might never recover his memory.”

  “That’s outrageous!” Foster protested.
“You can’t be pretending to be wed to that man. He might have been climbing in to kill ye! Who cares if he never remembers a blasted thing?”

  “Yes, I know. But isn’t there an expression that says it’s wise to keep your enemies close?” she asked. “It occurred to me that, ‘keeping him close’ will allow us to observe his actions. Don’t you agree?”

  “Agree? Hell no, I don’t agree!” He made no secret of his disapproval. “And what about yer reputation, Missy?”

  “Monsieur already told the attorneys renting us this house that I am a married lady. It won’t hurt, for now, to pretend the intruder is my husband. That will give him time to recover his memory,” she explained. “And we can’t very well throw him out in the street.”

  “And why in dam…darnation not?” He expostulated.

  “Shhh… We don’t want him to hear you.” And before he could tell her he didn’t give a fig, she swept forward and started down the stairs, giving him no time to voice his arguments. “Besides, what can it hurt?”

  “You’re making a big mistake, Missy. Mark my words, this is going to come back to haunt you,” he said, struggling a little for breath, but utterly certain of his opinion. “You’d do better to throw him out while ye can.”

  She slowed down to allow him to keep pace. “I’m not happy about it,” she explained. “I’d rather he recovered his memory immediately and crawled back to where he came from, but there isn’t much we can do about it at the moment.” She didn’t mention her fascination with their unwelcome visitor, her need to capture him in oils before he disappeared. Foster didn’t need to know that.

  “I still think you need a companion,” he grumbled “but p’raps right now wouldn’t be a good idea, ‘cuz if our captive attacks you and I have to kill him, we don’t want a witness. Even if that cousin of yours does arrive, might be you shouldn’t let her move in whilst that man is here. You don’t know if she’s the type to go blathering about it to everyone.” He paused. “And I’d hate to have to kill her too!”

  “Fo– ster!” She had a hard time keeping a straight face. He was terrible!