Her Counterfeit Husband

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Her attention went back to her husband. The Duke of Watkins. She never did feel comfortable enough around him to call him by his Christian name. Six years. For six years, she’d been under his thumb. And as his last act of imprisoning her, he thought to hand her over to his disgusting brother. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to him, each step slow and calculated as she thought of all the misery he’d caused her. Even now in death, he had a slight smile on his lips, as if laughing that he had gained one more victory over her.

  “You won’t win this one,” she hissed. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make sure your brother never inherits your title.”

  Feeling a new sense of determination, she crossed the room and slipped through the door leading to her bedchamber. She hurried over to the cord on her wall that would ring the bell in Appleton’s room. If she was going to act, she had to be quick. The doctor would arrive in at least ten hours, and the longer she waited, the harder it was going to be to succeed with her plan.

  She reached her wardrobe and pulled out a black cloak so she could blend into the dark night. After she returned to her husband’s bedchamber, she waited by his door until she spied Appleton hurrying down the hall. She motioned to him to enter the room.

  “Your Grace?” he whispered.

  She quickly shut the door and led him over to her husband. “I found him like this fifteen minutes ago.”

  His expression grim, he said, “I don’t know whether to be relieved or not.”

  “I can’t let his brother assume the title,” she whispered, glancing at her husband.

  With a heavy sigh, he nodded. “That wouldn’t be a wise idea.”

  “It’s dark out there. If you wore a covering and we wrapped my husband up in a dark blanket, we could carry him out of here and dispose of his body without anyone seeing us.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, and she waited for his response, wondering if he’d agree or tell her it was impossible. “What you’re suggesting is very unusual,” he slowly replied.

  She tightened her hold on the edge of her cloak. He wasn’t going to go along with it!

  “However,” he began, causing her heart to leap with hope, “I see no other alternative than to quietly bury him. If he were to take a trip for an undetermined amount of time… Maybe go somewhere special to heal…”

  Relieved he was going to help her, she nodded. “We’ll do that.”

  “We also need to take him off this property. No one must ever find him.”

  “I agree.”

  “We’ll need to take a carriage. There’s no way we can carry him as far as we need to.”

  “Can we risk it without being seen?”

  “There is an old carriage that no one uses. It’s in the old stable. I’ll get that one ready. You find a blanket, and when I get back, we’ll wrap him up, and I’ll carry him down the servant stairs. No one should see us this late at night.”

  It sounded wonderful. So wonderful, in fact, it might actually work! While he left the bedchamber, she searched through the room to find a suitable blanket to cover her husband up.

  ***

  Their task was a morbid one. Two hours past midnight, Anna stood beneath a large oak tree in the middle of a forest. She held the lantern up as Appleton finished burying her husband. She shivered and pulled the cloak closer to her, not sure what was worse: the eerie darkness or the chill in the air.

  Appleton pounded the new mound of dirt over the grave and straightened his back. “I think we’re done.”

  She stared at the spot where her husband was buried, finally feeling free. Six of the worst years of her life were over. She didn’t realize she was crying until Appleton removed his gloves so he could reach into his pocket and give her a handkerchief. Grateful for his everlasting kindness, she thanked him and wiped her face.

  “It’s over, Your Grace,” he said, his voice soothing.

  “As long as no one finds out, we’ll be all right,” she agreed.

  In silence, the two turned to the winding path that would take them to their carriage. So much had happened that day, and her exhaustion was quickly catching up to her. Once they reached the carriage, she slipped into it while he discarded his clothes and put on new ones. From there, he led the horses carefully through the forest. Her body swayed from side to side as he navigated them through the rough terrain.

  She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the seat. She wanted nothing more than to sink into the sweet bliss of dreams where she could forget everything from her tainted marriage to the misery that brought her and Appleton to covering up her husband’s death. The entire night kept replaying itself in her mind.

  As much as she prayed no one would ever find out what happened, she couldn’t help but worry someone would try to find her husband and learn the truth. But maybe by then, she and Appleton could leave the country. They could assume another identity. Maybe by the time people realized her husband was dead, she and Appleton could be long gone.

  The carriage came to an abrupt stop. She bolted up in her seat and peered out the window, wondering if someone had caught them. Maybe someone saw them sneak off the estate and followed them into the forest. Her heartbeat accelerated in dread. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. With a hard swallow, she told herself that whatever happened, she would tell them she forced Appleton to help her. She’d do everything she could to absolve him from guilt.

  The carriage door opened. Her eyes flew open, and she saw Appleton’s shocked expression. “What is it?” she asked him, tentatively peering out of the carriage to see if someone else was in the area.

  “There’s a gentleman in the middle of the road, Your Grace,” he told her. He held his hand out to help her down. “I can’t tell for sure, but he looks a lot like your husband.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed, she stepped out of the carriage and followed him to where the horses stood. He lifted the lantern from the carriage and knelt by the gentleman lying on his back in the middle of the road. She quickly examined their surroundings and saw no one else in the area.

  Taking a tentative step toward Appleton, she whispered, “You said he looks like my husband?”

  “He’s been beaten, but there’s no denying the resemblance.”

  The gentleman groaned but didn’t move.

  Curious, she approached him. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open as he struggled for breath. It was alarming to see him covered in blood, a nasty cut on his forehead and bruises lining the side of his face. His clothes spoke of a commoner, but his face was horribly reminiscent of the husband she’d just buried.

  She glanced at Appleton before she proceeded forward. While Appleton held the lantern for her to get a better look at the stranger, she bent over him. “Sir?”

  He gave no response. Uncertain, she looked back at Appleton.

  “He might be the answer to our prayers, Your Grace,” Appleton softly told her.

  Could he be? She turned her attention to the stranger and examined his blond hair. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but it seemed to be the same shade as her husband’s. She inspected the rest of him, sizing up his height and build. If she wasn’t seeing it with her own eyes, she would never have believed it. This stranger…this gentleman who was in no way of noble birth…could pass for her husband.

  The stranger let out a slight moan of pain, and something in her snapped. “We have to help him.”

  “I’ll get him, Your Grace,” Appleton said, handing her the lantern. She stepped back and held it for him as he gently lifted the stranger. “He needs help. If we’re not careful, we’re going to lose him.”

  It took her a moment to realize he meant that this stranger could die if they didn’t tend to his wounds. “But… Who can we get to help him? No one will believe my husband got beat up like this.”

  “I have a friend who won’t ask questions.”

  Surprised, she asked, “You do?”

  “An old friend. I haven’t seen him in years. H
e went to study medicine while I went to work for your husband’s father.”

  “Will he be upset that we went to him at this late hour?” she asked as he gingerly carried the stranger to the carriage.

  “No. I believe he’ll be too concerned about this gentleman’s wounds.”

  “But what will we say? We can’t tell him we buried my husband and found this stranger on the road.”

  “I’ll tell him this is your husband and he got into a nasty brawl. I don’t think he’ll ask anything beyond that.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we ask this stranger if he’ll pretend he’s your husband.”

  She halted in her tracks for a moment until she could comprehend what he was saying. She quickly started walking again so she could open the carriage door for him. After she removed her cloak and set it on the seat so it wouldn’t stain with the stranger’s blood, Appleton settled him along the length of the seat.

  Appleton turned to face her. “Do you want to sit with him?”

  She studied the stranger. His head was tilted to the side and his eyes were closed. She doubted he would wake up before they reached their destination. “I’ll sit in here,” she decided. And if nothing else, perhaps she could make sure he didn’t slide off the seat.

  “If you change your mind, tap on the roof and I’ll stop,” Appleton replied.

  With a nod, she let him help her into the carriage and sat across from the stranger, close enough to help him remain in place if needed but far enough so she wouldn’t have to touch him if she didn’t have to. As Appleton shut the door, she dared another good look at the stranger. She couldn’t see anything but his silhouette, but even so, the likeness between him and her husband sent a chill up her spine. Oh God, let him be a kind gentleman, she prayed. If they could just work out an agreement and get along amiably enough, it would solve all her problems.

  The carriage moved forward. She rubbed her eyes and thought of what an exhausting day it’d been. So much had happened and was still happening. She knew her life would never be the same, but the question lingering in her mind was whether it would be better or worse? She turned her gaze to the stranger who remained unconscious. Only time would tell if she and Appleton had made a wise move or a tragic mistake.

  Chapter Three

  “What do you think? Will he live?” Appleton asked his friend, Dr. Grant, after he tended to the stranger’s wounds.

  Anna stood up from where she waited in the drawing room with Appleton. Dawn was still a ways off, but she hoped to make it back to Camden while it was still dark so they could sneak back in undetected. Any kind of light might be their undoing. Forcing her attention off the window, she turned to the doctor. She hadn’t understood how close the stranger had been to death when they arrived at the doctor’s residence, but now that she did, it was a wonder he survived the carriage ride.

  Dr. Grant wiped his hands on a clean towel. “Yes, he’ll live, but if you hadn’t brought him here when you did, he’d probably be dead.” He looked at Anna and smiled. “I hate to say it, Your Grace, but your husband knows how to get himself into trouble.”

  Offering a weak smile in return, she said, “He’s a gentleman who isn’t afraid to speak his mind.” At least that was the truth.

  “Apparently not. But luck was with him tonight. He sustained some injuries to his head, ribs, back and shoulder. I’ll give you some medicine to help speed his recovery. With enough care and attention, he should be as good as new in due time.”

  “Can we take him home?” she asked, hoping her desperation to get back didn’t show.

  Appleton glanced at her before he added, “His Grace is more comfortable at home.”

  Recalling the old sheets on her husband’s bed, Anna decided she’d change them before they let the stranger sleep in that bed.

  “I’ll help you take him home,” Dr. Grant said as he led them out of the drawing room.

  She shot Appleton a startled look, so Appleton spoke up on her behalf. “There’s no need to go through all that trouble. All that we ask is that you keep tonight’s events to yourself. We don’t want word to get around about His Grace’s undesirable behavior. The last thing we need is a scandal.”

  “You have my word. I won’t tell a soul.”

  Relieved, Anna followed the gentlemen down the hallway and to the room where the stranger was resting. She still shivered when she looked at him, even though he wasn’t her husband. If she hadn’t buried her husband, she’d swear this man was him.

  To her surprise, the stranger opened his eyes. She shot a startled look at Appleton. All they needed was for him to tell Dr. Grant that he had no idea who they were.

  “I see that you’re awake,” the doctor told him, checking the bandage on his forehead. “You’re a fortunate gentleman.”

  Appleton cleared his throat. “May I have a word with you, in private, Doctor?”

  “Certainly.” He nodded as he lifted the bed sheet to check the gauze around his ribs. “Everything looks good.” With a slight bow, he set the sheet back down. “I’ll be back shortly. I’m sure you’d like a moment alone with your wife.”

  The stranger’s eyes darted to Anna, and she nearly froze on the spot. If he said she wasn’t his wife, then everything would be ruined. A very tense moment passed before Anna realized he wasn’t going to respond to Dr. Grant’s statement. Slightly relieved, she finally smiled in an attempt to become friends with him.

  Appleton and the doctor left the room. As Appleton turned to shut the door, he looked in her direction, sending her a silent message that wished her luck. She gave a slight nod and waited for the door to close before she went to the stranger’s bedside. She pulled up a chair and sat next to him.

  She smiled again and was rewarded when he smiled at her in return. Well, that was good. He was at least friendlier than her husband had been. It seemed all he could do was scowl, unless he was having fun at another’s expense. Shifting in her seat so she could lean forward, she lowered her voice. “I can’t begin to imagine what you must be thinking, but if you’ll kindly let me state my case, perhaps we can work out an arrangement that will benefit us both.”

  He held his hand up to stop her from speaking further and cleared his throat. “You’re my wife?”

  Her face flushed. “Oh, yes. About that, I—”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  She paused, surprised that was his response. He should have been asking her what was going on since he’d never laid eyes on her a day in his life. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t remember you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  He winced and rubbed his forehead. “I’m afraid I don’t remember anything.”

  Unsure of what he meant by “anything”, she decided to help clarify the situation. “I think I can help. I’m a duchess.”

  “I’m a duke?”

  “Well…yes. I mean, if you want to be.”

  “It’s who I am, isn’t it? You’re my wife, and if you’re a duchess, then it means I must be a duke.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t remember who you are?”

  He shook his head and reached out to hold her hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze before letting out a low sigh. “I don’t remember anything. I can’t remember my name, my age, where I live, what I do, or…” He glanced around the room then lowered his gaze to his body. “Or how I ended up here. But you know all of that because you’re my wife, right?”

  She studied him, trying to determine if he was being sincere or having fun at her expense. His green eyes met hers, and she knew he was telling her the truth. He squeezed her hand again, and she looked down at the way his hand was clasped around hers. It was a soft touch, not threatening and certainly not demanding. She returned her gaze to his. He seemed like the kind of gentleman who’d help her if he understood the situation, but since he didn’t remember his past, then perhaps it wasn’t necessary to divulge everything.

  “Will you excuse me for a moment?�
�� she asked him.

  “You’ll be coming back?”

  “Yes. I won’t be but a couple minutes.”

  He nodded. “All right.”

  Thanking him, she stood up and hurried out of the room. Quietly shutting the door behind her, she strode down the hall until she came to the drawing room where Appleton was talking to Dr. Grant.

  Appleton stood from the chair where he was having tea and went over to her. “What is it, Your Grace?”

  Lowering her voice so the doctor wouldn’t overhear, she said, “He doesn’t remember anything. And when I say anything, I mean anything.”

  “He’s lost his memory?” Appleton whispered.

  She nodded.

  “And if he was beaten and left for dead, then someone out there doesn’t like him.”

  She nodded again, even though she had no idea if that should be a concern or not. He didn’t strike her as a bad person. She’d been intimidated by her husband when she first met him, but she assumed that was because he’d been a duke and she’d been an eighteen-year-old lady having her first Season.

  “We’ll take him to Camden, and then I’ll do a search to see if I can find anyone who knows him,” Appleton finally whispered. “In the meantime, I think it’s best to limit what we tell him.”

  That sounded like a good way to proceed, so she agreed.

  Appleton turned to Dr. Grant. “I’m sorry, but we can’t stay any longer.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Dr. Grant said and faced Anna. “I’m just relieved your husband will be all right. Let me gather the supplies you’ll need, and then you can be on your way.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. At least this part of the ordeal was over. Now it was a matter of getting him home. From there, she and Appleton would have to decide what to do.

  ***

  By the time Anna and Appleton got the stranger back to Camden and into a clean bed, Anna was exhausted, but she knew their task was far from over. They had to explain his injuries to Dr. Unger who was due by at ten that morning. As dawn came up over the horizon, she glanced at Appleton who tucked the clean bedding around the stranger’s body. Fortunately, the medicine from Dr. Grant had made him sleepy so she was spared from having to answer any questions he might have.