by Bree Wolf
William sighed. “I’m afraid it is most untoward.”
“Then tell me, William,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she held his gaze. “Tell me.”
Lost in her eyes, William barely heard the final notes of the waltz as the musicians came to an end. However, when the dancing couples slowed down and the soft swaying of their movements stopped, it was as though a wave flowed over the two of them, a ripple that echoed through the room, and he lifted his head.
To his utter surprise, William found the whole assembly staring at them, their faces aglow with excitement. And then their eyes travelled upward. Some of them even pointed, and a cold shiver ran down William’s back before he had even lifted his gaze to the green-leaved twig, gently swaying over their heads.
A sprig of mistletoe.
Chapter Twelve − The Truth in a Kiss
Fear as well as excitement ran up and down Catherine’s back, and she shivered with the contradicting emotions assaulting her so unexpectedly. Only a moment ago, they had been the only two people in the world, gazing into each other’s eyes, and William had been on the brink of confessing something to her.
That he loved her? Catherine desperately wanted to believe that.
Only now, the moment was gone.
Instead, she found herself the centre of attention as the whole assembly stared at her…or rather them, expecting a kiss.
The thought made Catherine’s heart jump into her throat, and she involuntarily found herself reminded of the night her husband had come upon her in the kitchen. Only now, he would not kiss her the way he had kissed her then. There would be no passion. No heat. No curling of her toes as his arms pulled her closer to him.
Now, they were in public, and although a kiss was expected, thanks to the masks they wore, everyone staring at them knew without a doubt that they were not husband and wife. Therefore, a peck on the cheek was all Catherine could expect in that moment.
Looking up at William’s face, she found it almost immobile as he stared back at the many pairs of eyes focused on them. Shock was clearly written on his face, and for a moment, Catherine feared that his mind had retreated into itself as his eyes held no sign of recognition.
However, then he drew in a slow, laboured breath, and his eyes shifted down to meet hers. Holding her gaze, he swallowed before once more glancing up at the sprig of mistletoe, silently issuing its command.
Then he took a hold of her hands, and she stepped toward him, her heart beating in her chest as though it wanted to run and hide. Trying to ignore the excited whispers and intrusive stares all around her, Catherine focused on her husband as he stood before her, his eyes gazing into hers in a way that made her knees go weak.
And once more the world fell away, and there were only the two of them.
When William slowly lowered his head to hers, Catherine lifted her own, expecting him to angle left and give her a quick peck on the cheek.
Her heart, however, once more sped up, almost choking the air from her lungs, when she saw his gaze dip down to her lips.
He wouldn’t, would he? She thought, almost shaking her head, trying to rid herself of the mirage her mind had conjured.
Panic engulfed her for a moment as he closed the distance between them. However, when his lips met hers, all thoughts of right and wrong evaporated into thin air. Her lips began to tingle in a most familiar way, and images of the night in the kitchen rose before her eyes.
She had been wrong after all. There was heat, and passion, and her toes…
Somewhere in the distance, Catherine was aware of the heavy silence that had fallen over the room as her husband’s arms came around her and he deepened the kiss.
Then the whispers started, and murmurs of shock and disapproval rose from the throng of onlookers and eventually reached them.
Slowly, the curtain that had fallen over them retreated, baring them to the world, and upon breaking their kiss, Catherine and William found themselves looking into faces that had lost their smiles as they stared at them in accusation.
Catherine swallowed, and her husband’s hand tightened around hers before he turned to her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to…” Again, his eyes lifted to the crowd around them, and for a second, Catherine felt as though she was facing an angry mob.
In a moment when all seemed lost and Catherine was at her wits’ end, her sister came forward and stepped in front of them, facing their friends and neighbours with a smile. “Isn’t this a marvellous night?” she beamed, and confused murmurs rose to answer her.
For a second her sister glanced over her shoulder at her and winked before she once more faced the assembly and her hands reached up to remove her mask.
Catherine froze. This was it. Only by unmasking themselves would they be able to avoid a scandal. However, unmasking themselves would also reveal their charade to William, and Catherine’s breath caught in her throat at the thought of her husband’s reaction. Would he feel betrayed? Would he turn from her and just walk away? Or would he get angry? Furious about the way they had betrayed him?
As Christine’s arm dropped to her side, mask in hand, stunned silence once more fell over the room before the faces before them broke out into laughter, their eyes shining with childish delight as they tried to look around Christine at Catherine.
Next to her, William tensed, his brows drawn down in confusion as he tried to make sense of what he saw. A question in his eyes, he turned to her at the same moment that Christine stepped aside and gestured for Catherine to remove her mask.
Meeting his gaze, Catherine mumbled, “I’m sorry” before she reached for her mask. The second it came off, more laughter echoed through the room.
“Wonderful!”
“What a marvellous idea!”
“Did anyone notice they’d switched places?”
Still confused, William’s eyes shifted around the room before they once more came to rest on hers.
“Don’t be angry with her,” Christine said, walking up to them. “It was my idea. She only agreed to it very reluctantly.”
William’s jaw tensed, and he took a slow breath. “What idea?” he forced out through gritted teeth.
In that moment, Lord Hampton came walking toward them. “I must say this Christmas Ball will never be forgotten,” he beamed, looking from Catherine to William. “Lord and Lady Harrington, I admit I would never have expected something so…well, unexpected from you.”
Christine laughed. “I’m relieved you do not disapprove for I must admit that I’ve always wanted to play such a joke.”
“Then it was your idea?” Lord Hampton asked. “Well, I am certainly glad you thought of it. Splendid!”
As the general merriment of the evening commenced, Christine ushered them to the side. A few people came walking up to them, voicing their praise of such an innovative prank. All the while, Catherine barely dared look at her husband as she could almost feel the anger rolling off him in waves. Would he ever forgive her for this? Was every chance of rekindling their love now lost forever?
Catherine could only hope that he would let her explain.
***
To escape the throng of people who suddenly wished to speak to them, Wesley quickly ordered their carriage and making apologies left and right ushered them out the door.
William followed his brother as though in trance. He barely noticed the woman−his wife?−walking on his arm.
When they were seated in the carriage and it rumbled along the icy country roads toward Harrington Park, a heavy silence hung about the small space. While his wife−his wife?−sat next to him with her head bowed and her hands fidgeting in her lap, his brother and sister-in-law−sister-in-law?−were seated across from them, exchanging meaningful glances.
After a small eternity, Wesley spoke up. “I’m certain you have many questions, Will.” He took a deep breath, his eyes shifting to Catherine’s bowed head. “Just allow me to assure you that…this…was our idea.” He glanc
ed at Christine.
“Actually, it was mine,” she objected, and her eyes met his openly. “If anyone is to blame for this confusion, it’s me.” She sighed. “When you couldn’t remember Catherine after the accident, I thought getting to know her without the pressure of everyone expecting you to love her would…help.” She shrugged, and the self-assurance he had seen on her face the past few days was suddenly gone. “Maybe I was wrong. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to see my sister suffer such heartache any longer. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Again, silence returned as Wesley and Christine looked at him, waiting.
“Is there anything you would like to know?” his brother asked, clearly confused by William’s lack of interest.
Unable to process everything he had learnt in the past few minutes, William sat back, resting his head against the back. For the moment, he simply couldn’t look at them.
When Christine had removed her mask at the ball, everyone had laughed. It had been a wonderful joke. The best they’d seen in a long time!
Only for William, it was not a joke. It was his life, and what he had learnt in the past few moments had changed everything.
He remembered the moments he had woken up after his accident. He remembered the shock on his brother’s face when he realised that William couldn’t remember the past five years of his life. And he remembered the moment his wife−it had been his wife, hadn’t it?−had come to his chamber, relief all over her face at seeing him awake.
William had not recognised her, and he had feared to be tied to a woman he could not love.
But everything had changed, hadn’t it?
Was this the truth? Or would he wake from this dream and find himself once again married to the wrong sister?
Chapter Thirteen − Impossible to Resist
By the time, the carriage drew up in front of Harrington Park, Catherine’s hands were frozen stiff. Not from the cold, but fear instead.
All the way home, her husband had barely uttered a word, barely looked at her. He had sat in his seat, his back rigid as he had stared out the window, his eyes distant as though he didn’t know any of them.
Stepping into the foyer, Christine turned to them. “Maybe you should let us explain in more detail,” she began, her eyes almost pleading that Catherine feared all hope was truly lost. “Let us sit and talk about this.” Stepping into the parlour, she gestured for them to follow.
To Catherine’s surprise, William did although his face still betrayed hardly an emotion.
“Maybe we should leave them alone,” Wesley suggested as he stepped forward.
“But−”
“We should go,” he insisted, taking Christine by the elbow and ushering her out of the room. “They need time alone,” Catherine heard him say before the doors closed behind them.
Turning to her husband, Catherine found him standing by the windows, staring out into the night, his hands linked behind his back.
Swallowing, she wrung her hands, uncertain how to begin. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I assure you I never meant to trick you. I was just so afraid.” A shiver went down her back when she remembered the moment after William had woken up after his accident and his eyes had not lit up with recognition upon seeing her. It had been the darkest moment of her life.
“Afraid of what?” he asked, his voice hard and unyielding. However, the fact that he had asked gave Catherine the courage to speak.
“Of losing you,” she whispered. “From the moment we met, we were in love. And then, after the accident when I looked at you, I only saw confusion and apprehension in your eyes, and I…I couldn’t bear it.” Twisting the hem of her sleeve between her fingers, Catherine spoke to his turned back, uncertain if she wanted him to look at her or not. “I didn’t just want to be your wife. I wanted to be the woman you loved, and I was afraid that you would only feel obligated to me because we are husband and wife, and there is no changing that.” Again, she swallowed, and her mouth felt dry as though she was dying of thirst. “I know you. I know the man that you are, and I was afraid that you would simply pretend to care for me because you thought it your duty. When you saw my pain, you cringed because you felt for me. Only not because you loved me, but because you are a gentle and caring man.” As she dragged up the emotions of the past few weeks, tears welled up in her eyes and silently ran down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry for this whole charade, but…our time together, free from duty and obligation, it reminded me so much of how we first met that I couldn’t give it up. That night in the kitchen when you kissed me,” nibbling her lower lip, a soft smile came to her face, “my heart just overflowed, and I had hope again. For a moment, I considered telling you the truth, but I was so afraid to lose what I thought we had found again. I couldn’t give that up. I couldn’t let go.”
Unexpectedly, he turned to face her, and Catherine flinched. His gaze held hers, deep and demanding, and she feared that he did not believe her.
Catherine swallowed, her own eyes pleading. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re furious with me, and you have every right to be. I can only hope that−”
“Is it true?” he interrupted, his voice strangled. “Are you my wife?”
Catherine nodded. “I am.”
“You’re my wife?” he repeated, his jaw clenched as he stared at her. “Make certain your answer is the truth for there will be no turning back.”
Confused, Catherine stared back at him. “I am your wife. That’s the truth. And you have every right to be angry with me for lying to you.”
A snort escaped him, and then he suddenly started toward her. “I have every right to kiss you,” he almost growled before his hands reached for her.
Catherine’s eyes opened wide as he yanked her against his chest and his mouth claimed hers. There was nothing soft or gentle about his kiss. It was as though the dam to his heart had finally broken, and like a flood of water, all his emotions rushed over her at once.
His hands held her tightly, possessively, and Catherine would have sighed in relief, in joy, had he given her any chance to do so. Instead, his lips claimed her as his own again and again, demanding her answer as though he still did not believe her.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clung to him like someone afraid to drown, feeling the rapid beating of his pulse under her fingertips, a faint echo of his heart as it hammered in his chest.
Suddenly, he took a step back and his hands slip up to cup her face. Staring into her eyes, he swallowed. “When I look at you,” he whispered, his voice strangled with emotion, “I feel as though I know you, as though I’ve seen you before. Your face, your eyes−especially your eyes−look so familiar.” Then he sighed in regret. “I still do not remember our time together,” for a second Catherine’s heart stopped before a gentle smile touched her husband’s lips, and she exhaled the breath she’d been holding, “but I know that I love you.”
Catherine’s knees buckled, and she would have sunken to the floor had he not caught her. As new tears streamed down her face, she curled her fingers into the front of his shirt, unable to bear even the smallest distance between them. “I love you, too,” she gasped, nodding her head for emphasis.
A deep smile came to his face, and for the first time after his accident, his eyes shone in such sparkling intensity as they had before. “When I realised I loved you,” he admitted, “I thought I would go mad. I looked at your sister, and although she’s a wonderful woman,” he shook his head, skimming a finger over her cheek, “she is not you. I thought I was trapped in a nightmare, married to the wrong sister. I wish you had told me sooner.”
“As do I.” Slowly, Catherine felt the strain fall from her muscles and a gentle warmth settle in her stomach and spread through her body. “I’m sorry for putting you through this. I was just so afraid that you would come to think of yourself trapped in a marriage you don’t even remember agreeing to. I needed to be certain that you cared for me. I couldn’t have lived with the doubts.”
Noddi
ng, William wrapped his arms around her. “I understand,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “It was an impossible situation for the both of us, and I do regret that my memories have not returned, but−”
“Maybe they will…someday.”
“Maybe,” William agreed. “Although it would be wonderful to remember how we first met, I don’t need those memories to love you now, here, today.” A slow smile came to his face. “All I need is you, you by my side, you in my arms,” a mischievous twinkle came to his eyes, and Catherine’s breath caught in her throat, “you in my bed.”
Heat rose to her cheeks, and for a second, Catherine averted her gaze, slapping him gently on the shoulder. “William, you’re impossible.”
A rumbling laugh rose from deep in his chest, and he held her close once more. “And you’re impossible to resist,” he whispered in her ear.
At his words, the breath caught in her throat and a tantalising shiver went over her. Blinking, Catherine couldn’t believe her ears. Had she heard him wrong? Leaning back, she met his gaze, the hint of a question in them.
“Are you all right?” he finally asked, his brows slightly drawn down.
Smiling, Catherine nodded. “I’m fine,” she whispered, and her heart had never felt so light. “Everything will be fine. I know it.”
Even if he didn’t remember her now, in that moment, she felt certain that one day he would. Maybe his memories would not return all at once. Maybe they would come back one little detail at a time. Maybe even without him noticing.
But whatever the future held for them, nothing mattered as long as he loved her. And he did.
A deep smile on her face, Catherine took his hand, and together, they climbed the stairs to the upper floor. After all, they had a lot to make up for.
Epilogue
With his mind elsewhere, Wesley had no idea how much sugar he had already put in his tea. He glanced at the brown liquid, puffs of steam rising up and tickling his nostrils, and his hand stilled, spoon suspended in mid-air. Frowning, he took a sip and grimaced.