“It seems like I know how to take a fall,” he replied.
Anna and Lord Mason turned their attention to him. “Pardon?” Lord Mason asked him.
“It was a joke,” he said. “I survived the fall down the stairs because I know how to take a fall.” When neither of them laughed, he sighed. “Apparently, it wasn’t a very good one.”
“I’ve never known you to joke,” Lord Mason replied. With a chuckle, he added, “Now we know why. You’re no good at it.”
Anna decided if Lord Mason was going to learn about his amnesia, she should do it before the stranger had the chance. “The fall did more damage than you realize. It was because of it that he lost his memory.”
“His memory?” Lord Mason asked, his eyes wide.
“Yes. He doesn’t remember anything.”
Lord Mason leaned over him and furrowed his eyebrows. “This isn’t another bad joke is it?”
“I’m afraid not. I don’t remember you.”
“Really?”
Anna set the bowl down on the table, hoping to break the tension in the room as Lord Mason tried to stare him down in a silent move to intimidate him. “He not only lost his memory, but he tires easily,” she said. “Healing is hard on the body. He has several bruises, cuts and broken ribs. He needs plenty of rest.”
“I’m sure he does,” Lord Mason snickered.
She frowned. She realized he was skeptical over what happened, but it almost seemed like he was playing cat and mouse with them.
Lord Mason gave him a good jab in the side, and he winced. “Oh, forgive me, dear brother. I make it a habit of playfully nudging you in the side. We’ve done it since we were children. I’d have your wife verify this, but it’s something she doesn’t know about. It’s a shame you don’t remember it.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest he stop trying to bait the stranger, but she managed to hold her tongue. Anything she said would only make things worse. His suspicions were already raised. She didn’t need to add fuel to the fire.
“I won’t intrude any longer on your time with your wife,” Lord Mason told him. “It’s very kind of her to tend to your wounds when a servant could do it. She must love you very much.” With a glance in her direction, he added, “Who knew?”
She clasped her hands together so she wouldn’t shove him out the door as he left the room. She closed her eyes and counted the seconds until she could hear his footsteps going down the hallway and toward the stairs. Once she did, she shut the door to the room and released her breath. Her gaze went to the stranger who smiled at her.
“You tend to my wounds because you love me?” he softly asked.
Unsure of how to answer that question, she went over to him. “I’m your wife. Caring for your needs is something I do.” She reached under his shoulders. “Let’s see how your back is healing.”
He obliged and aided her and rolled to his side. “Do I like my brother?”
“I don’t know.” And that was the truth. She had no idea if her husband had ever liked his brother or not. Most of the time, it didn’t seem like the two had a good relationship, but how could she know for sure? “Don’t worry about it. What’s important is that you’re feeling better.” So he wouldn’t ask her anything else about Lord Mason, she quickly added, “You wanted to know about the first time we met?”
As she inspected his back to see how the bruises were healing, he said, “Yes, I would. Are you ready to tell me?”
“Yes.” She was as ready as she was ever going to be. “I was in my first Season and enjoying a walk through Hyde Park with a friend when an inconsiderate gentleman insisted on joining us. My friend and I asked him to leave us alone, and though he went his way for a few minutes, he returned.”
She wiped one of the cuts along his upper back with a cloth. Even though it wasn’t necessary, she added more ointment to his back so she could avoid eye contact with him.
“You noticed that the gentleman wouldn’t leave us alone,” she continued, “so you politely suggested he find some other form of entertainment. We were grateful for your assistance, and after a brief conversation, we learned we’d be attending the same ball that evening.” Blinking back the tears from one of the few good memories she’d had of her husband, she added, “At the ball, you asked me to dance, and it was then that I knew I wanted to be with you.”
“So we married because we loved each other?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“I don’t know if we loved each other, but I was fond of you and thought that in time…” She decided not to finish the sentence, but if she had, she would have admitted aloud that she thought the Duke of Watkins had been worth loving. And that was the last thing she wanted to think. “Anyway, there’s not much else to tell about how we met. We danced, you talked to my parents, and soon we got married in front of family and friends.”
“That doesn’t sound very exciting,” he said.
Unable to resist the chuckle that rose up in her throat, she asked, “And what would have made it exciting?”
“I suppose something exciting would have been if I had saved you from the threat of a wild animal attack or gained control over a horse that you’d been riding which had broken free of your reins and was galloping out of town.”
She laughed harder. “Neither of those scenarios are likely to happen in London.”
“Hmm…. Then perhaps I could have saved you from a burning building.”
“You have lofty ambitions, Your Grace.”
“I think if I am going to be someone worth marrying, I ought to do something impressive.”
She finished putting the ointment on his back and changed the towel on the mattress so he’d have a clean one to rest on. After he was settled onto his back, she wiped her hands on a clean cloth and sat beside him. “What else do you want to know?”
The more she told him about being the duke, the better off he’d be when he talked to his friends, and now that she knew there was nothing binding him to his past life, she felt safe in moving forward.
“Can I have some water?” he asked. “My throat feels dry.”
“Of course.” She stood up and filled his glass with water. When she turned back to him, she remembered that he needed to be sitting up and placed his glass back on the table. “I need to help you up.”
Once she helped him up, he finished his drink and she settled him back into the bed again, but before she sat in the chair, he patted the spot on the bed next to him. “Will you sit here? I can see you better if you do.”
With a nod, she did as he bid. He took her hand in his, and she resisted the urge to pull away from him. He was far too likable, far too gentle, far too appealing.
“What do I enjoy?” he asked. “What are my interests? How long have I been a duke? What do I do as a duke?”
She carefully thought over his questions. The last thing she wanted to tell him was that his favorite activities involved mistresses and gambling. She licked her lips and exhaled. “All right. You like to go to White’s when you’re in London.”
“White’s?”
“It’s a gentleman’s club.”
“What do I do there?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Gentlemen’s clubs are for gentlemen only, and what happens there is none of the wife’s business.”
“I’ll have to go there to find out then. Maybe it’ll help spark a memory.”
“Maybe,” she whispered, though she knew it wouldn’t. “While in London, you enjoy going to the theatre.”
“Are you allowed to go to theatres?”
“Yes.”
“Did you go with me?”
She nodded. As his wife, it was her duty to attend social activities with him while in London.
“Do you like the theatre?” he asked.
“Yes, I do.” It was the one thing she enjoyed doing, though she couldn’t say she cared to do it with her husband. She just enjoyed going there.
“We should do that.”
�
��We’ll have to do it when we go to London.”
“And when will that be?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “Maybe next spring.”
“What season is it now?”
“Autumn.”
“When do people usually go to London?”
“In the spring.”
His smiled widened. “Then I should be well enough to go to London when it’s spring, and you can take me to the theatre so I can see why I enjoy it.”
Despite her apprehension about going to London with him, she felt herself softening and wanting to do what he wanted in order to please him. “All right, but you must be healed enough first.”
“I’ll be good and get plenty of rest.”
“You’re hard to say no to, Your Grace.”
He sighed. “Won’t you call me Jason?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“And you won’t let me call you Anna?”
“I think it’d be better if you didn’t.”
“Why not?” he wondered, his thumb stroking the top of her hand in a way that made her heart give an unexpected flutter.
Wishing to change the topic, she said, “You enjoy horseback riding, fox hunts, and…and…” She struggled to think of another activity her husband liked that hadn’t involved drinking, mistresses or gambling, but her mind drew a blank.
“What about my parents? When did I become a duke? What do I do as a duke?”
Deciding those were safer questions to answer, she relaxed and told him all about her husband’s upbringing and role as a duke.
Chapter Five
A month later, Jason felt well enough to examine his bedchamber. He saw a small room off to the side of the main room. Curious, he entered it and studied the intricate carving along the edges of the desk. The top was clear, but he thought the drawers might hold some clues to his past so he pulled them open. He sorted through the papers, but given his lack of memory and inability to read, the names and numbers made no sense to him. In one of the drawers was a locked safe. Next to it was a key, which he used to unlock it. More papers. He sighed. How unfortunate it was he couldn’t read. He locked the safe and put the key in the cabinet next to his bed since that seemed like a safer place for it. He returned to the desk and resumed his search. In another drawer, he saw a couple bottles of liquor.
The door to his bedchamber opened. Eager to see Anna, he carefully rose to his feet, ready to greet her. To his surprise, a couple of maids followed Anna into the bedchamber, carrying a bathtub and buckets of water. He watched as they filled the tub, and after they left the room, Anna closed the door and turned to him.
“You’re in need of a bath, Your Grace,” she said as she approached him.
“Do I smell bad?”
“Terribly.”
He sniffed himself and coughed. “All right. I agree. I need a bath.”
She giggled. “Did you doubt me?”
“No, but I had no idea I was that filthy.”
“I wiped you down the best I could when I gave you those sponge baths, but I could only do so much.”
His lips curled up at her slight joke. He didn’t know why, but he got the feeling that she rarely made a light-hearted comment, let alone tell an outright joke.
She walked over to him and held her hand out. “Do you think you can get into the tub on your own or would you like help?”
Since he welcomed any chance to touch her, he said, “I better not take the chance.”
He slipped his arm over her shoulders. A sharp pain twisted in his side, and he stumbled as they rounded the bed. She had to hold him so he wouldn’t fall forward. His face warmed from embarrassment. He knew he was having a rough time bouncing back from being ill and injured, but he’d hoped he could manage the walk across the room without incident.
She offered him a sympathetic smile and patted his chest. “There’s no need to be uncomfortable around me. I don’t mind if you’re not graceful.”
Even though she meant those words, he still didn’t like the fact that he had bouts of weak moments when she was in his presence. “I didn’t think to ask this before, but don’t I have someone who helps me with getting dressed or with my baths?”
“You did have a valet tend to your needs six months ago, but you dismissed him,” she replied as they reached the tub.
“I did? Why?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. You didn’t feel the need to tell me.”
“But you don’t make it a habit of helping me with my baths, do you?”
“No, but then, you’ve never needed help before. Please undress and get in the tub.”
He couldn’t argue her logic, so he removed his clothes. He probably shouldn’t have been self-conscious since she was his wife. She’d seen him naked many times in the six years they’d been married, except he didn’t remember any of it. He was acutely aware that she was standing next to him. He glanced her way as he slipped off his underwear. Relieved that her gaze remained above his waist, he handed her his clothes.
While she put them in a basket for the laundry maid, he grabbed the edge of the tub and gingerly stepped into it. He sank into the water, which wasn’t overly hot but warm enough to ease his muscles. He let out a low contented sigh.
Anna picked up a cloth and soap from the table and turned her tender eyes his way. “Feeling better?”
He nodded. “Much. If I’d known how good it’d feel to be in this water, I would have asked for a bath sooner.”
With another one of her angelic smiles, she dipped the cloth into the water and rubbed soap on it. “Yes, but I don’t think you would have had the strength to sit up. The doctor said you should be able to take brief walks by the end of the week. He doesn’t want you to push yourself too hard, but the longer you lie in bed, the harder it’ll be for you to heal.”
“It almost seems like a contradiction to say that too much rest is bad for me.”
She chuckled. “Perhaps, but it’s true.” She ran the soapy cloth along his back, starting at his shoulders and slowly working her way down. “You’re healing nicely. Your bruises are almost gone.”
He noticed that even as she used pressure on his back to wash him, she was gentle, preferring to use short strokes to wipe any lingering dirt from his back. She was always gentle with him, taking the time to patiently bring him back to health. Touched by the care and concern she continually showed him, he cleared his throat and whispered, “It’s too bad I took that fall down the stairs. If I hadn’t, I’d remember everything. I’d like to remember everything, especially you. Like the first time I saw you at Hyde Park or the evening I proposed to you.” He glanced over his shoulder and added, “You must have been a beautiful bride.”
Her eyebrows furrowed and she stopped washing his back.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asked, wondering why her expression seemed to darken at his words.
With a slight shake of her head, she dipped the cloth back into the tub and rubbed more soap into it. “No. You didn’t say anything wrong. I just need more soap, that’s all.”
He sensed there was something she wasn’t telling him but decided it didn’t matter. At least not right now. She was probably overwhelmed by everything. Perhaps he’d never told her she was beautiful before. Maybe this was the first time he’d said something that nice to her. He thought to say that he was sorry about the past, that he would try to be the kind of husband who deserved her. He started to tell her this, but when he opened his mouth, he wasn’t sure how. He would tell her at some point, but today wasn’t the day.
To his surprise, she handed him another cloth and the soap. “For your front,” she informed him when he didn’t say anything.
“Oh.” He took the items and rubbed the soap into the wet cloth. “So I’m going to start taking walks along the property soon?”
“The doctor said you’ll be ready next week, and he left a cane to help you.”
“Will you walk with me?”
; She brought the cloth lower along his back and rubbed it in soothing circular motions. “I will if you want me to.”
“Yes, I want you to.” Judging by the uncertainty in her voice, he guessed he hadn’t wanted to go walking with her in the past. “You can show me the grounds.”
“There are a lot of grounds. You’ll need to ride a horse or be in a carriage to see all of it.”
“Then we can go riding together.”
She didn’t respond.
Deciding he wouldn’t press the issue further, he turned his attention to washing his chest and legs, glad that there were enough suds in the water to hide his erection. The bath wasn’t something he considered overtly erotic, but being in close proximity to Anna while naked had an unexpected effect on him. He forced his thoughts back to washing himself off. To his surprise, after she finished washing his back, she washed his hair. Now this proved to be a very relaxing experience, so he closed his eyes and sighed.
She chuckled. “I thought you might enjoy it if I washed your hair.”
“Did you?” he murmured.
She massaged his scalp and hummed a tune. Not being familiar with it, he focused on the melody, wondering if he’d heard it before. It was pleasant with a touch of melancholy to it, something that didn’t surprise him. There was an underlying sorrow he sensed beneath her smiles, and suspecting he had something to do with that sorrow wasn’t easy to think about. But she dutifully came to his bedchamber to help him, and since she was nice to him, she must be willing to forget the past and start over. Perhaps losing his memory was the best thing that happened to them.
When she was done, she retrieved a towel. “Once you dress, I’ll have the laundry maid change your bedding.”
He eased out of the tub, careful to mind his aching joints. He accepted the towel from her and wrapped it around his waist. She picked up another towel, and he thought she was going to hand it to him but she wiped the water off his chest and back.
Afterwards, she handed him the towel and set out his new clothes on a chair. “Do you feel up to eating more than soup tonight?”
As he dried his hair with the towel, he nodded. “Yes. In fact, I’d love more substantial food. What do I usually eat?”
Her Counterfeit Husband Page 4