Her Counterfeit Husband

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “You’re not used to it,” he filled in for her, his laughter dying down. “I’m sorry about that.” Before she could respond, he took her by the arm with his free hand. “All I have to do is walk this horse by pulling the reins, correct?”

  “Yes, that’s all there is to it.”

  “Then there should be nothing to worry about.” Hoping he didn’t give away his fear of the animal, he stepped forward, and the horse followed. Realizing his grip had tightened on her arm, he apologized and loosened his hold.

  “This might be more appropriate.” She brought his hand to hers and clasped it. “We’ll take it slow. There’s no need to rush things.”

  He nodded, and together, they headed back to the stable.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was the middle of February and Anna decided she’d play a melody she hadn’t played for a couple weeks. It was her favorite one, but as she played it on this particular day, it didn’t soothe her troubled mind as it had in the past. Nothing she tried eased the conflicting emotions she felt at knowing Watkins was hurt, and worse, that she was the cause of it.

  Even now, he was outside walking the horse. It bothered him to do it. She saw him from the window of the drawing room before she sat down to play music. He was keeping the horse at a good distance, and when the horse neared him, he jerked a bit and reestablished the distance that made him the least uncomfortable. She had offered to go with him as she had the other day, but he insisted on doing it himself.

  She wondered if his desire to do it alone had more to do with being away from her than from showing the others that he didn’t need his wife holding his hand. She really couldn’t feel more awful if she tried. Here he was, doing what she wanted despite his fears, and she was refusing to marry him.

  Though he hadn’t said more about it after their talk at the fountain, she noticed he wasn’t as cheerful as he used to be. Oh, he was pleasant and sweet, but some of the enthusiasm she’d come to expect from him was gone. She had no idea two gentlemen who looked exactly alike could be so different. In some ways, it would have been easier if Jason wasn’t so nice. She gritted her teeth and stopped playing the melody. No. He wasn’t Jason. He was Watkins. She must not think of him by his Christian name.

  She closed her eyes and picked up from where she left off. She managed to finally slip into the world where only her imagination could take her. The swell of the music embraced her soul, and she gave herself to the experience of feeling. No more thinking. No more wondering if she was right or wrong.

  For the moment, she was lost in her solitary world where she sat in a gazebo with nothing but fog surrounding her. Snow fell around her but the gazebo remained untouched, and in her mind, there was no bitter chill. There was just the peace of being alone in a place where no one could find her. But then someone emerged through her protective barrier, and it took her a moment to realize who it was as the fog dissipated around him. Jason.

  Gritting her teeth, she banged the keys in frustration. No. He wasn’t Jason! He was Watkins.

  “Your Grace?”

  Startled, her eyes flew open and she saw a concerned Appleton standing next to an amused Lord Mason. Biting back a groan, she turned to Appleton. “Yes?”

  “Lord Mason is here to see His Grace,” he replied.

  As if she didn’t have a care in the world, she resumed playing the melody. “Well, he can’t. His Grace is out with his horse.”

  “I haven’t known you to be so dismissive of me,” Lord Mason spoke, a slight warning in his voice.

  “My husband is no longer ill, Lord Mason,” she replied with more bravado than she felt. “While I appreciate the concern you’ve shown him during that time, you may go back to seeing him a couple times a year.”

  She realized the more she talked, the harder her fingers hit the keys, but something about Lord Mason’s visit struck her the wrong way. Not that his visits were ever welcome, but today, it seemed unnecessary. Why couldn’t the scoundrel leave them alone?

  “In light of my brother’s lack of memory, I thought I’d do him a favor and tell him about his past. You weren’t there when he was growing up. It’s to his benefit he knows everything, don’t you agree?”

  Her fingers paused on the keys and forced her gaze in his direction. “I suppose you’ll insist on it no matter what I say.”

  Appleton’s eyebrows furrowed, and she knew what he was thinking. Never, in all the time that insufferable oaf of a husband had been alive had she dared to talk to Lord Mason this way, but she was tired. Tired of who she used to be. Tired of trying to maintain an appearance of her old life. Tired of Lord Mason scanning her up and down as if she were nothing better than a prostitute who was there to service him. Tired of tolerating the harsh way Lord Mason and her husband had treated her. She wanted nothing more than to be free. Free to be who she truly was and free to love who she wanted to. She wanted to love Jason. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. No. It was Watkins.

  “Is Her Grace feeling well?” Lord Mason asked Appleton.

  “She’s fine, my lord,” Appleton replied, placing his arm around her shoulders and leading her to the settee. “It’s something common to ladies. A little rest and some tea, and she’ll be back to her old self.”

  Lord Mason’s eyebrows rose in interest. “Something common to ladies? Is this good news for my brother?”

  Her head shot up, and she glanced at Appleton who shrugged. “It’s not that. I’m not expecting a child. I’d explain, but the matter is of a private nature.”

  Lord Mason nodded and bowed. “My apologies, Your Grace. I had hoped it was good news.”

  She highly doubted he’d be happy if she were expecting a child since it would mean he’d never secure her husband’s title, but she gave a polite smile as if she believed him. Let him think her time of month was upon her. It excused a lot of things, especially her foul mood. She sighed. Once, just once, she’d love to wipe that satisfied smirk off his face. Often, she imagined giving him a good slap. She didn’t think he could retaliate since Jason…since Watkins was alive.

  “I’ll take my leave,” Lord Mason began, “but if I happen to see my dear brother, I’ll have to greet him. It’s only proper.”

  She let out a weary sigh as Appleton showed him out. Why wasn’t he leaving her and Watkins alone? He was never that interested in his brother. Sure, they attended each other’s dinner parties and spent some time together when they were in London, but Lord Mason hadn’t made it a point to visit on a regular basis. It seemed that ever since she and her husband returned from London because her husband took ill that his brother paid frequent visits. At first, she assumed it was because he wished to know if he’d be the next duke, but now—with Watkins’ good health—she suspected another motive.

  Standing from the settee, she walked over to the window and searched the grounds. She didn’t see Watkins anywhere, but that didn’t mean Lord Mason wouldn’t see him and insist on talking to him. She took a deep breath and released it. At some point, she had to trust that Watkins could hold his own against the likes of Lord Mason.

  ***

  As soon as Jason saw his brother, he halted in his steps along the grounds. The horse he was leading brushed his shoulder with its nose, causing him to jerk away from it. He tightened his grip on the reins and wondered for the millionth time why the beast should give him such unease. The horse wasn’t difficult. It followed his commands without a fuss. But there was something frightening about it. And it wasn’t just this horse. All the horses made that cold shiver of dread crawl up his spine. The only thing that walking the horse around seemed to do was enable him to be near it without dropping the reins and running for his life.

  He took a deep breath to steady his nerves as Mason approached, riding his horse as if he didn’t have a care in the world. How Jason envied him that level of comfort on the animal. But now wasn’t the time for petty jealousies. It wouldn’t do well to show any sign of weakness in front of him. Jason didn’t have to remember
him to understand he was a dangerous gentleman. In an effort to appear brave, he headed in Mason’s direction, glad the horse willingly changed their course.

  “Ah, it’s a fine day for a ride, isn’t it?” Mason called out as soon as he was within hearing distance.

  Jason waited until he slowed to a trot before he spoke. “I thought I’d take a break from riding and walk for a while.”

  “Walk? You?” Mason threw his head back and laughed. “Since when do you walk?”

  “Since I had a near miss with death. Walking is good exercise.”

  Mason pulled the reins so that the horse stopped. “So is bedding a lady who likes it rough and running before her husband shows up to her bedchamber, but I only do that in moderation.”

  Jason was too shocked by his brother’s bluntness to respond right away, and when he did, he laughed. “You’re telling a joke.”

  “If you say so.” He shrugged and examined his gloves. “These were a gift. Like them?”

  Glad for the change in topic, Jason nodded. “They’re nice.”

  “They’re from British India. It’s fine craftsmanship like this that makes me glad I went there. It’s a shame you missed such a marvelous opportunity, but perhaps we’ll get a chance to go together in the future.”

  “Perhaps,” Jason said, though he had no intention of it.

  “I didn’t come out here to talk of exercise or gloves. I thought you might find it profitable to learn about your past, and while your wife can fill you in on some parts of it, I can tell you everything. Why don’t you get on that fine animal, and we’ll go for a ride?”

  Struggling not to give away his apprehension, he said, “I need to take him back to the stable.” He turned to lead the horse toward the stable, hoping that would be the end of this part of the discussion.

  Unfortunately, Mason urged his horse forward so he could keep pace with Jason. “You can ride the horse back to the stable.”

  “I know. I just don’t want to. I want to walk.”

  “You are nothing like the gentleman you once were. The Jason I knew would never degrade himself by walking a horse.”

  Ignoring the taunting from his brother, Jason decided he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making him get on the horse. If he did, then his brother would know he could twist things around so he did his bidding.

  “Very well,” Mason said, sounding bored. “I’ll go at a very slow pace to keep up with you.”

  Jason refused to look in his brother’s direction. He decided to slip around the other side of his horse so he wouldn’t be trapped between both horses. As it was, the one he owned was hard enough to manage without panicking. Without bothering to glance in Mason’s direction, he asked, “You wanted to tell me about my past?”

  “I figured it’d be the right thing to do, given I’m your brother and all.”

  “All right.” Jason doubted he could stop him from telling him about his past if that’s what he wanted to do, so the sooner he went along with it, the sooner Mason would leave. “Where do you want to start?”

  “Now this is something I do remember about you. You were always one to get right to the point.”

  Surprised since nothing else he did seemed to be the same as how he’d once done things, he peered around his horse to see the amused look on Mason’s face. “I was?”

  “Yes. With you, it was either say it or stop wasting your time.”

  Jason nodded. He’d have to take Mason’s word for it, but he had a feeling that given Mason’s tendency to draw things out, he most likely lost patience with him long ago.

  “You needn’t worry. I’ll get on with it,” Mason said, not disturbed by the silence on Jason’s end. “Has Anna told you when you were born and where?”

  “September 2, 1784, right here at Camden.”

  “Yes. I hear that our parents were very protective of you and refused to let anyone—not even our relatives—see you until a week after you were born. Such was not the case when I was born three years later. They invited everyone to see me almost as soon as I took my first breath, and it’s reported that you worshipped me immediately.”

  Jason resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his brother’s joke.

  “Apparently, you lost your sense of humor when you lost your memory.” Mason shrugged. “Mother had another child, a girl, but she was stillborn. After that, she bore Father no more children. You and I grew up side by side, making friends at the boarding house. We met the gentlemen who attended my dinner party there.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yes. Some sooner than others, and we ended up attending Eton together.”

  “What were my interests?”

  “You loved riding horses,” Mason pointedly stated.

  He sighed. Granted that was the case, and Anna had already made that clear. He didn’t know why he had such an aversion to them now, and when he asked Anna about it, she couldn’t give him an answer. Maybe Mason would. “Did I fall off a horse?”

  “No. You were always good on one.”

  Jason sighed in disappointment. So much for finding out why horses bothered him as much as they did.

  “The good news is that you took a fall down the staircase and survived,” Mason commented. “Considering your injuries and how long that staircase is, I’m surprised it didn’t kill you.”

  Frowning, he peered around the horse again and noticed the dark expression on Mason’s face. Mason glanced his way, and he quickly turned his attention back to the stable, which was close up ahead. The sooner he could get to the stable, the better.

  “But you asked about your interests, so I’ll tell you,” Mason continued, his tone now pleasant. “Besides horses, you love the theater, music, dancing, chess, gambling, drinking, White’s… You like things other gentlemen enjoy. What we need to do is go through the desk in your bedchamber. You keep important papers there.”

  Jason recalled the papers but said, “We can do that another day.” They reached the stable and he handed the reins to the stable master, relieved the ordeal with the horse and Mason were finally over, at least for now. “I must go back to the house.”

  “Oh, then I should join you. Perhaps we can share a glass of brandy? You never turn down a glass of brandy.”

  He removed his riding gloves. “Maybe next time. I think I’ll rest for a while.”

  “Rest? After a walk?”

  “It was a long walk.” And there was more truth to that than Mason would understand. He didn’t think the ordeal with the horse would ever end. “It was a pleasure to see you again.” He gave the obligatory bow and waited for Mason to return the farewell with a nod before he headed for the manor.

  Chapter Twelve

  Anna tapped the window, watching as Watkins bowed to Lord Mason and stepped away from the stable. She would have given anything to know what the two had just discussed. The distance between her and the two gentlemen was too great for her to see their faces. If she could, their expressions might clue her in to whether their conversation had been pleasant or not.

  Someone cleared his throat, so she turned from the window. Appleton set a tray of tea on the table. “Are you feeling well, Your Grace?”

  “I’ll be fine.” She went to the settee and poured the tea into her cup. “Do you want some?”

  “No, Your Grace.” He waited until she took a sip of the tea before he added, “I can’t help but notice you seem unhappy. Is there something about His Grace that I should know?”

  Catching his meaning, she shook her head. “He’s done nothing to hurt me. In fact, he’s the kindest gentleman I’ve ever met, besides you.”

  “Ah, I think I understand the conflict. He’s an easy person to like.”

  “Too easy.” Her throat constricted on the confession. Up to now, she’d kept her swirling emotions from him, but now they were screaming for attention. “I don’t like it.”

  With a chuckle, he asked, “Why not?”

  “I think you know the answer to that,” she whispered
, afraid to speak the words.

  “If it eases your mind, I’ve seen the way His Grace looks at you, and a person would have to be blind not to see that he cares for you very much. I dare say he might even love you.”

  She forced down another sip of tea, blinking back her tears. “Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Why is it something you should fear?”

  “Because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to fill a role, nothing more.”

  Sighing, he sat across from her and turned his tender eyes her way. “You were miserable with your husband. There was a time when you wanted so desperately to find a way out of the marriage that you tried to take your own life.”

  She settled the cup in her lap, her gaze settling on the scars at her wrists, forever a reminder of the lowest point in her life.

  “Don’t you owe it to yourself to find what little happiness life has to offer?” Appleton softly asked. “There’s so much sorrow in the world, why turn your back on the chance to experience joy?”

  A tear slid down her cheek, but she didn’t brush it away. “I don’t deserve him. I’ve been lying to him all this time. He wants to get married so he can have the memory of our wedding, but it’d be another lie because we wouldn’t be getting married again.”

  “No, you wouldn’t be getting married again. You’d be marrying him for the first time, but isn’t that in your best interest? Wouldn’t it set your mind at ease to know he’s really your husband? Then that would be one lie you wouldn’t have to live with anymore.”

  She shook her head and took another sip of the tea. “I don’t feel like reading the Banns and waiting for someone to object before the priest would marry us, if he’d even agree to do it. I don’t think Lord Mason will sit by and let the marriage happen. I think he’d suspect something was wrong.”

  “You don’t have to make it a formal event.”

  “You think I should consider a special license?”