“They are lovely and suited for travel but not overly practical. They are the kind of boots purchased by someone who doesn’t give a second thought to the fact that they won’t last. And quite expensive as well, I would say. I can’t imagine a thief or a criminal wearing such shoes.” Mother shook her head. “If thieves and criminals are wearing shoes like hers, then we are all wasting our time abiding by the laws of society.”
“Mother!”
“Oh, don’t look so outraged, dear. The lure of fine footwear is not about to entice me into becoming a highwayman.” She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling.
“That’s absurd, Mother. I never thought…” He clenched his jaw. He wasn’t the one had who suggested highway robbery for shoes so why was he the one who now felt like something of an idiot? He drew a deep breath. “I’m simply saying—”
“She had a letter for me, darling. Don’t forget that.”
“She had an envelope for you.” Oliver’s voice rose. “An empty envelope at that.”
“Yes, that was a shame.”
“She could have addressed it herself.”
“The paper was of excellent quality. The handwriting refined and possibly familiar although I can’t be sure. So many people I know have a similar hand. It’s most annoying. If she wrote it herself, she did a very good job. Which only begs the question of to what end?”
“Nefarious purposes no doubt,” he said darkly.
“What an exciting idea. I wouldn’t at all mind being the object of a nefarious purpose although I would rather the nefarious perpetrator be a handsome, dashing rogue rather than a lovely young woman.”
“Mother!”
“I do love it when you’re shocked, Oliver, and it doesn’t bother me in the least. It’s been a very long time since I’ve had an adventure of any sort—”
“Well, I should think—”
“What?” She narrowed her gaze and Oliver felt as if he were again a small boy and had done something naughty. “I should forgo adventure given my age?”
“No,” he lied. “I wasn’t going to say that at all.”
“Then you were thinking it. I know that look. It’s that I know better than you and therefore I am responsible for you look. Your father had a very similar look although he probably would have understood.” She paused and her gaze seemed to focus on something entirely out of sight. “He and I had several grand adventures in our youth.”
“Perhaps now is not the time—”
“I have no intention of filling you with tales of what is long past.” She sniffed. “Besides, you don’t deserve to know. However, you should know this.” She pinned her son with a firm look. “By virtue of an envelope that might or might not be legitimate, this unknown visitor, for good or ill, is now my adventure. I daresay you could use a few of your own,” she added under her breath.
Indignation washed through him. “I have adventures.”
“Certainly not of a romantic nature.”
“I do not discuss my romantic adventures with my mother,” he said in a lofty manner.
“Four of your friends have wed since the start of the year and yet gossip hasn’t linked your name with anyone.” She shook her head. “Caring about nothing but family business and your responsibilities as earl is not the way to find a wife, my boy.”
“Accepting a stranger of unknown origin into our house simply because she’s the bearer of an empty envelope is not the path toward adventure either.” A note of triumph sounded in his voice.
“Oliver Leighton, I doubt that you would recognize an adventure of any sort if it came right up and bit you on the a—”
“Mother!”
“I was going to say arm.” His mother stared at him for a moment then laughed. “Adventure, like beauty, is very much in the eye of the beholder. Regardless of how we view this situation, I suspect we shall know everything soon enough.”
Hollinger cleared his throat from the door. “My lady, Dr. Miller has arrived.”
“Very good, Hollinger.” She headed toward the door. “One way or another, Oliver, this unknown lady has provided a bit of excitement. And you are always complaining about the tedium of country life.”
“I like the tedium of country life,” he called after her. “It’s peaceful!”
“You hate peaceful,” she threw back over her shoulder then stepped out of the room.
“Not at the moment,” he muttered and suspected very soon he might well long for peaceful and tedium.
Still, his mother was right. Unless his suspicions were correct—and even he realized he was more cautious than was perhaps warranted—they would know the identity of their mystery guest as soon as she awoke. And unless she was seriously injured, not likely given the short distance of her fall, that might be at any minute. He had to admit to a bit of curiosity himself. After all, her gloves and boots aside, she was quite lovely.
And he couldn’t help but continue to wonder about the color of her eyes.
Chapter 3
She opened her eyes and stared at the coffered ceiling high above her head. A very nice coffered ceiling. Not one she had ever seen before but lovely and elegant, bespeaking of an age well past. Where was she?
She sat up and a dull pain washed through her head. She groaned and felt the back of her skull. There was no apparent bump. Still, her head did ache and she didn’t know why. She sank back gratefully onto the soft pillow and glanced around. She was lying on a chaise lounge in what was apparently a sitting room. A bedroom could be seen through an open doorway. Both rooms were decorated in cool shades of green and gave the most serene and soothing impression of a forest glade. She had no idea where she was but it was certainly lovely.
“You’re awake,” a pleasant feminine voice sounded from the direction of the door.
She struggled to sit up.
“Oh no, my dear, you mustn’t try to move too quickly.” A motherly sort of woman bustled over to her accompanied by two maids who immediately positioned pillows behind her for support. “There, that’s better. How do you feel?”
She rubbed the back of her head. “My head…”
“Dr. Miller said it will probably ache for a day or so but you will be fine.” The lady settled in a chair beside the chaise. “He recommends complete rest for at least a day.”
“Who is Dr. Miller?” she said slowly.
“Our local physician. He left a few minutes ago. He’s very good and quite well regarded. I have long considered us lucky that he prefers life in the country to what would certainly be a more lucrative practice in London although that’s scarcely here nor there at the moment. He will return in a day or two to see how you’re coming along.” The lady shook her head. “I must say you had us all worried. Why even that nice Lady Fitzgivens—”
“Lady Fitzgivens?”
“She brought you here. You’re quite lucky, my dear, that someone as thoughtful as Lady Fitzgivens saw you fall off the train platform.”
“Yes, lucky.” Odd, she didn’t feel the least bit lucky. If she felt anything at all it was apprehensive. And that was odd as well. Shouldn’t she feel something, well, more? “I fear I am somewhat confused. I fell off a train platform?”
“Admittedly that part is a bit muddled but apparently Lady Fitzgivens, who had just arrived from London, saw you trip and fall off the platform. You had an envelope addressed to me. Unfortunately, whatever it contained was missing, but she had you brought here.”
“And where is here?”
“Forgive me, my dear, of course you have no idea. You’re at Norcroft Manor. I am Lady Norcroft.” Lady Norcroft smiled in the gentle manner that one might use with very small children or those with feeble minds. “But a more pertinent question is, who are you?”
“Who am I?” she said slowly.
“Yes, my dear, what is your name?”
“My name?” It was a simple enough question. Why didn’t she have an answer? Simple or otherwise. The apprehension that had nibbled at her a moment ago now settled in
the pit of her stomach.
Lady Norcroft laid a hand on her arm. “Perhaps it would be better if you start with what you remember.”
“What I remember,” she repeated. No wonder Lady Norcroft looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Apparently she had. She drew a deep breath. “I don’t seem to remember much of anything beyond opening my eyes a few moments ago.”
“Oh dear.” Lady Norcroft studied her carefully. “Are you sure?”
She wrinkled her brow and searched her mind, trying to come up with something, anything before waking up in this lovely green room. She nodded. “Very sure.”
“I was afraid of that,” Lady Norcroft said with a sigh.
Dismay widened her eyes. “Afraid of what?”
“Loss of memory,” Lady Norcroft said in a mournful manner but there was a spark of excitement in her eyes. “There’s a word for it.” Lady Norcroft’s brows pulled together. “What is it? Something Greek sounding, I think.”
“Amnesia?” she said without thinking.
“Yes, that’s it. Very good. At least you remembered something.”
“I didn’t remember anything. It just popped into my head.”
“Well, my poor dear child, you have amnesia.” Lady Norcroft’s tone was firm although one might have suspected she was a bit pleased. “One hears of such things but I never imagined to encounter it in person.”
“Never?” Panic raised her voice. “You don’t think it’s something that happens all the time then?”
“Oh, I doubt it.”
“Surely it can’t be that unusual.” This couldn’t be happening to her. “No doubt people fall off train platforms every day, bump their heads, and forget who they are.” What was she to do? “They’re probably right as rain in no time.” She stood, the ache in her head dashed away by the fear squeezing her heart. “Perhaps that’s why you don’t hear about this sort of thing.”
“My dear, I don’t think—”
“Perhaps it’s so common—” An overwhelming desire to flee gripped her. Instead, she paced the width of the room. After all, she had nowhere to go. “People getting knocked on the head, losing their memory one moment and it’s back the next—that no one thinks it important to mention it.”
“Now, now there’s no need to get upset.”
“No need?” She pulled up short and whirled to face Lady Norcroft. “I beg your pardon, but I think there’s every need! It’s most disconcerting not to remember who you are!”
“You remembered amnesia. I would say that’s progress.” The older woman smiled in a confident manner. “It’s a very unusual word.”
“But I don’t know my own name!” The reality of her situation threatened to overwhelm her and she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into the sympathetic lady’s motherly grasp and weep uncontrollably. Abruptly she realized she was not the type of person to throw herself into anyone’s arms and weep, uncontrollably or otherwise. Which was at least more than she knew a minute ago. Still, it was scarcely helpful. “I don’t know where I’m from. Who my family is.” She gasped. “I don’t know if I have a family! Or a husband. What if I have a husband?”
“He isn’t much of a husband, I’d say, to have misplaced you like this.”
“But I don’t know.” She wrapped her arms around herself and sniffed. “And I don’t know what to do now.”
“Of course you don’t dear,” Lady Norcroft said smoothly. “You have amnesia. However you also have me.” She nodded at the maids. “Ellen, Mary, tea will help I think.” The maids scurried off.
“I really don’t think—”
“Nor should you. I suspect thinking will only confuse you more.”
“I daresay I can’t be any more confused.” She sank back down on the chaise. “Lady Norcroft—”
“Very good.” Delight sounded in Lady Norcroft’s voice. “You remembered my name.”
She stared at the other woman. “You introduced yourself no more than a minute ago.”
“Yes, but I should think the very fact that you did not forget is of some significance. That coupled with your recollection of the word amnesia and I would say you are certainly on the road to recovery.” Lady Norcroft beamed. “However, that’s probably more than enough for now. While I know little about problems of this nature, I suspect it would be best if you conserved your strength. We shall speak to Dr. Miller about this when he returns tomorrow. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Lady Norcroft—”
“You know, my very dear friend, Marguerite, Lady Cutchings, once had a prince stay at her country home. This is so much better.”
“This?”
“Or rather I should say you. An obviously well-born lady, who has completely lost her memory, arrives with my name on her lips—”
“I don’t think it was—”
“Figuratively, my dear. Lips, envelopes.” Lady Norcroft gestured in a blithe manner. “One and the same. And a lovely woman at that. Oh, it’s quite the type of adventure the Duchess of Roxborough would write in one of her novels.” Her eyes widened. “I have an idea that might help.” She rose to her feet and held out her hand. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” She took the older lady’s hand and trailed after her into the bedroom.
Lady Norcroft stopped before a large cheval mirror. “There now, what do you see?”
She stared at the face reflected in the mirror. It struck her that one rarely had the opportunity to examine one’s own features with an objective eye and perhaps there was a good reason for that. The face that stared back at her was nice enough, even rather pretty, which came as something of a relief. She didn’t think she was particularly vain, although she had no idea. Still, it seemed a good thing to like one’s face even if one’s nose was annoyingly pert, one eyes a bit large for one’s face, and one’s chin rather pointed. All in all, it was a heart-shaped sort of face and not a bad face to live with. Her eyes were a nice shade of green and went well with the dark red color of her hair. Hair, she noted, that had a suggestion of curl and a definite air of unruliness about it. She suspected it did not behave willingly. Her gaze traveled down the full length of her image.
“Well?” Lady Norcroft said eagerly.
“A bit on the thin side, don’t you think?”
“Not at all.” Lady Norcroft cast a critical eye on the image in the mirror. “Perhaps a little but you do have a nice bosom and that’s important.”
“Yes, I suppose,” she said and studied her image. She was of average height and wore a well-tailored traveling dress of obvious quality so her slender frame wasn’t due to poverty. That too was a relief although it did beg the question of whether she might be shallow as well as vain. Still, she might not remember her name but she couldn’t imagine anyone not being pleased to discover they weren’t poor.
“You could be a little younger for the proper heroine of a novel although you are scarcely in your dotage.” Lady Norcroft perused the woman in the mirror. “You’re nearly thirty I would think.”
She cringed. “That old?”
Lady Norcroft laughed. “My dear, that isn’t the least bit old. However, if you wish, we shall hope for nearly rather than thirty.” She paused. “Well?”
“Well, yes nearly is better.”
“No, I meant—well, who do you see?” Lady Norcroft waved at the mirror. “Do you look familiar? Do you recognize yourself?”
She met the gaze of the older lady in the mirror and wrinkled her nose. “Unfortunately, no.”
“I was hoping but, of course, you wouldn’t.” Lady Norcroft’s eyes twinkled. “This is the most interesting thing that has happened in a long time.” She paused and her brow furrowed slightly. “Although, upon reflection, it has been a most interesting year. I shall have to tell you all about it.”
“I’m not sure that’s wise, Mother.” A gentleman stood in the doorway behind them. He was tall with nicely broad shoulders and dark brown hair. His jaw was square, his features even, his nose straight and
aristocratic. He was handsome but not overly so. Dashing was the word that came to mind. His eyes were a deep, rich blue and when his gaze met hers in the mirror, an awful sweet feeling of inevitability swept through her and took her breath away.
“Why ever not?” Lady Norcroft asked.
“You don’t know anything about her.” He directed his words to his mother but his gaze remained locked with hers. “And from what Ellen told me, she doesn’t know anything about herself either.”
“He’s right.” She couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from his and, oddly enough, didn’t wish to. “I could be anyone.”
“Anyone at all,” he murmured.
She shrugged. “Or no one in particular.”
He smiled a rather devilish sort of smile and her heart fluttered. “That I find hard to believe.”
She drew a deep breath. “Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then perhaps you know me?” she said hopefully.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Still,” she shook her head, “you seem remarkably familiar.”
“Where are my manners?” Lady Norcroft turned away from the mirror. She followed suit, reluctantly tearing her gaze from the gentleman in the doorway. “Allow me to introduce my son, Oliver, the Earl of Norcroft.”
The earl nodded and without thinking she held out her hand. He raised it to his lips and heat flushed up her face. Again, his gaze meshed with hers. She swallowed hard. “Are you certain we have never met?”
“There is nothing wrong with my memory.” A slight but distinctly wicked gleam sparked in his eye. “And I would most certainly remember you.”
At once, it struck her that regardless of her initial response to him, or perhaps because of it, this could be a very dangerous man. Possibly to her future, definitely to her heart. Dear Lord, she did hope she wasn’t married. She pulled her hand from his.
“Oh my, this is awkward,” Lady Norcroft said.
“Which part, Mother?” he said smoothly.
“I can introduce you to her but I can’t introduce her to you.” She turned to her guest. “My dear child, I simply cannot keep calling you my dear child, it will make my head ache even worse than yours. We must give you a name.”
Seduction of a Proper Gentleman (Last Man Standing) Page 4