The Forgotten Marquess

by Jane Charles

  His problem? Jillian was the duke’s daughter. What man thought of his own child in such a way? “Why?”

  “Father had no need for a daughter. It wasn’t as if there was a prince he could marry me off to that would allow him to increase his power, so I was more of a hindrance and embarrassment than an asset.”

  Tristan could feel his jaw opening but hadn’t the will to stop his reaction to her shocking statement.

  “I’ve been a disappointment and you are not the first gentleman he has chosen for me that I failed to keep.”

  “It’s not your failure. My wife returned, and I believe your father would frown more on his daughter participating in bigamy.”

  “I’m not certain Father would care, other than it might tarnish his reputation and I’ve already tarnished it well enough.”

  “You have a sterling reputation, Lady Jillian.” Tristan hadn’t heard even the slightest hint of scandal connected to her name.

  “That is because my father is very good at hiding the unpleasant.” With that she turned to look out the window.

  Tristan would love to know what had been hidden from Society, but it wasn’t his place. However, he did wonder if he would have ever learned, had they remained married.

  “Father ordered me to bring you up to scratch because he was not going to endure another Season of me being unmarried. I’m in my twentieth year and Father assumed I’d be married in my eighteenth year because who wouldn’t want the daughter of a duke who brought with her a substantial dowry.” Self-loathing dripped from her words. “It shouldn’t have mattered how I looked or my personality. Father determined I was a prize and was flummoxed that I’d not received any worthy offers.”

  “Worthy?”

  “Gentleman my father considered worthy,” she explained. “When you announced your intention to return to Cornwall, I panicked. I couldn’t fail again so I kissed you.”

  “Did you know that your father would find us?” Tristan had always wondered if he’d been set up by both father and daughter.

  Jillian shook her head. “No. I had hoped to seduce you, not that I know how to do such a thing but prayed human nature would have taken over and then I’d be quite ruined.”

  As much as Tristan had enjoyed Jillian’s company in London, their encounter would never have gone beyond a kiss. She did not inspire a great passion in him. However, he certainly would not tell her so, as she was troubled enough already.

  “If you are not your father’s concern, then who or what is?” he asked, returning to a comment she’d made earlier.

  “Henry, my brother.”

  “Marquess Broadridge?” Tristan knew the name but barely knew the gentleman. Broadridge hadn’t even attended the small, secret wedding making Tristan and Jillian man and wife.

  “Father’s heir,” Jillian confirmed. “Henry avoids Father as much as he can and even threatened to run away to the continent when he learned of our marriage.”

  “Why would he do such a thing?”

  “Father has very clear ideas on who Henry should marry and gives him no peace on the subject. However, as long as I needed to be married, Father couldn’t devote as much time to his son and heir.” She sighed. “At least Henry will be glad for my return, even if my father is not.”

  “I hope His Grace doesn’t make matters too difficult for you,” Tristan offered with sincerity.

  “It will be as it has always been, and I know what I must do and how to conduct myself,” she answered with reservation and then tilted her chin and studied him. “After all, you are not the first gentleman that I’ve attempted to trap into marriage. In both instances, it was the only way to land the gentleman my father determined I should marry.

  “How are you not married, to the other gentleman.”

  For the first time Tristan noted a slight humor in her blue eyes. “I attempted to blackmail him. In turn, he blackmailed me.”

  What could Jillian have ever done that gave someone damaging enough information to blackmail her?

  “I know you are wondering, but I shan’t tell you.”

  Whatever it was, or is, it couldn’t be too damaging, or the entire ton would know. Besides, as they were to terminate their marriage, it wasn’t necessary that Tristan know the secrets that Jillian kept.

  “I will no longer attempt to trap anyone, as it has proven impossible to stick.” This time she gave a little giggle. “Besides, do I really wish to be married to a gentleman who I had to force into the union. If that is my only option, then I think I prefer to be a spinster.”

  If only Jillian would have decided that before she had followed him into the garden, then they wouldn’t be in this predicament and Tristian would be reacquainting himself with his real wife.

  “I will miss what we shared,” Jillian offered after a moment.

  “Shared? We don’t have a great love, Jillian.”

  “Of course not,” she dismissed with a wave of her gloved hand. “But I’d like to think that we were developing a friendship, one I enjoyed.”

  “That is true.” Tristan had liked Jillian and had enjoyed the conversations they shared at various entertainments.

  “And, as your wife, I had a freedom I hadn’t known existed.”

  Tristan frowned. She had sequestered herself away in Harrison’s set of rooms and not ventured out. To what freedom did she refer?

  “Since the age of six and ten, before I was to be presented to society, I’ve been told what to do, how to dress, what to say and how to behave, from the moment I was awakened in the morning until I was allowed to retire.”

  “Every moment?” He found that difficult to believe. Yes, schedules were important, but there must be times for nothing as well.

  “While I waited for your return to Portsmouth, I did as I pleased, wore what I wished and read, and stitched, and ate what I wished.” Her eyes brightened. “My maid went out every morning and purchased the most delicious tarts and brought back a selection of books from the lending library. Those I was not interested in she returned the following day.”

  “Why didn’t you go yourself?” Then she could have chosen the books she intended to read.

  “I didn’t wish to be seen or recognized. If anyone knew I was there, I’d be required to attend a luncheon or tea, then I’d need to be careful in how I explained my presence in Portsmouth. I simply didn’t wish to do so.” Then she offered the most genuine smile that Tristan had ever seen on Jillian’s face. “I’ve discovered that the most marvelous feeling is being left alone and allowed to do as I wish with no expectations. I believe that is what I will miss most about our marriage.”

  “I’m sorry to have taken that from you.” Tristan genuinely wished he didn’t need to take her back to her father and that Jillian could be free to do what she desired. Wasn’t that something everyone wanted—to be free to make their own decisions?

  “I had peace for the first time in my life, and I’m going to hold on to the feeling for as long as I can. And, I can assure you that it is something I will carry with me when deciding who I should marry, or if I should marry at all. I’ve no wish to be married to a tyrant, as one tyrant in a girl’s life is more than enough.”

  There was a conviction in her tone and Tristan had no doubt that Jillian would do her best to avoid her father’s dictates if she found a way to do so.

  “I do wish you well, Jillian, and if ever there is a time that you need my assistance, all you need to do is send word.” The words were not said lightly but held a depth of truth. He would help her if she needed and he could.

  Her blue eyes softened when she looked at him. “Thank you, Tristan. I doubt a time will come when I need you, but it’s a comfort knowing that you will be there for me.” Tears spiked her eyes. “I really will miss the friendship that could have been.”

  Elaina couldn’t stop staring at the portrait. That woman was her mother. The one she’d lost as a girl. Her mind flashed to being seated in the chair by the fireplace while she was told by her governe
ss that her parents had perished in a terrible accident.

  How old had she been? Just a girl, of that she was certain.

  “Elaina, this is wonderful,” Harrison said from behind. “Your memory is coming back. The doctor was right.”

  “The doctor from Alderney that Jamie told us about?” the brother by the window asked.

  “Yes, a Dr. Webber,” Harrison explained.

  The brother nodded.

  “Do you know who everyone is now?” Harrison asked.

  She knew her mother’s face, but that was all, though there were snippets of memory starting to form.

  “She recalled one person.” The man by the window walked forward. “To push for more could be damaging.”

  At that, Elaina wanted to scream. What could be so damaging? Didn’t she have a right to know the names of those in the room, or why this house was familiar? Then again, that didn’t need to be answered. She had sat in that very chair by the fireplace when she was told her parents were dead, which meant that this had been her childhood home. If one could draw that conclusion, then the five gentlemen in the room could very well be her brothers.

  Brothers!

  Yes, she had siblings.

  “Elaina, why don’t you explore the gardens,” the man said. “You enjoyed them at one time. I’d like a private word with Harrison with regard to this Dr. Webber’s findings.”

  It wasn’t really meant to be a private conversation as the others would remain in the room. However, instead of arguing, she made her way across the parlor and stepped out through the open doors and onto a terrace. It would be good to have some peace, away from others watching her with such concern as if they feared she’d shatter before their very eyes. Elaina may not have her memories, but she was certainly made of sterner stuff. She’d lived with the condition for over three years now and if anyone could muddle through, it was her.

  Had she been so fragile before that her brothers had wrapped her in woolen cloth to protect her?

  Elaina nearly snorted. Her memories may be gone, but she couldn’t imagine being so delicate.

  At the edge of the terrace, she paused as familiarity once more sank into her being. Beyond was a sitting area, sheltered beneath shade trees surrounded by gardens in full bloom and the parterre that had been designed when she was but a child. She’d bothered the gardeners to no end at wondering how they could follow a pattern of squares and curves and which flowers were to be planted where. She’d been no more than five at the time.

  The memories were returning. Could everything finally come back to her?

  Would they come back to her quicker if someone would just tell her who everyone was and how long she’d lived here, or how her parents had died?

  Elaina slid a glance to the right as a smile pulled at her lips. Yes, the memories were returning because she knew for a fact that if she stood just to the side of the potted bush that she’d be able to hear everything said within the parlor.

  They may wish to have a private discussion but as the topic was her, Elaina had every intention of eavesdropping. Further, she had a right to know what was being said. Slowly she glided away from the entrance and made her way to the bush, keeping her movements slow so as not to alert anyone if they were watching. Once she knew that she was out of sight of those inside, she quickly slid into her place beside the bush and listened.

  “I agree with Dr. Webber’s assessment,” someone said. “The memories could return, but they shouldn’t be forced.”

  “So, we tell her nothing of her home in Cornwall or who else lives there?” another questioned.

  “She must come to it on her own. To be told something ahead of the fact or of her seeing an item, person or place could prove to be detrimental to her mental stability.”

  Just as she was told nothing of this place before she arrived, the same could occur when Tristan returned to take her home.

  Home! That word meant nothing to her. It wasn’t here, at least not any longer.

  She missed Alderney. At least there she knew who everyone was, and why those in her circle of friends were so important.

  “I advise that we let Elaina recover her memories here, if it’s possible, and answer any questions she may have.”

  “Do you think it wise to answer the questions?” Harrison asked.

  “Yes, especially if it regards a specific event or person. In those instances, the mind may just need a little assistance in bringing forth the memory, but to provide information not asked, could overwhelm.”

  “But we are not to answer any questions with regard to Cornwall, correct, Xavier?” another asked.

  Xavier! She knew that name. He was her younger brother.

  Excitement built. Xavier was studying to become a physician, at least she remembered that he was attending medical school. He must have earned his degree. He was also the one who had stood by the window and watched her. Of course, it made sense now. He was looking for signs of her illness or injury, or whatever the blazes was wrong with her.

  The five were brothers. They were her brothers!

  Oh, if only the other names would come back to her then she’d know for certain that her memory was returning.

  “I’ll watch over her and see to her care so that Elaina is not unduly upset,” Xavier continued. “There is so much we’ve yet to learn about the mind, but I’m most troubled that she’s suffered from this amnesia for over three years without a single memory returning until she viewed Mother’s portrait.”

  “Good God man, you are discussing Elaina as if she were any other patient and you a scientist. She is our sister.”

  Xavier blew out a sigh. “I must treat her as if she were a patient with no emotional attachment if I am to help her at all. I cannot allow my thinking to be altered. I’ve seen men treat a loved one and too often emotions clouded judgments and mistakes were made.”

  “Perhaps love and kindness would also help her remember who she is,” someone said with disgust.

  “I’ll leave that to you, Micah. Perhaps the two of you can spend your time healing together.”

  Micah, the one with the cane. How had he been injured and what was wrong with him?

  In an instant, her younger brother, in his regimental uniform flashed in her mind. He’d been a foot soldier. Had he been injured in battle?

  “Sometimes you are a cold prig, Xavier,” Micah grumbled.

  “Yes. I’m well aware.”

  “Quit bickering,” someone interrupted. “Our priority right now is Elaina and seeing that she recovers the best that she can. We will give her the support and care that she needs and follow Xavier’s advice on how to go about treating her. Is that understood?”

  The last words were said with authority. They’d come from the oldest, of that Elaina was certain. Which meant the auburn-haired gentleman by the fireplace had spoken. What was his name? Did he have authority over the others simply because he was the oldest or was he more important than that?

  Her parents were dead, which meant he had been the heir, but was it simply that he inherited the manor, or had there been a title?

  Oh, if only she could remember.

  Elaina rubbed her temples, but as much as she tried, she could not recall his name or their last name.

  “Learn anything interesting?”

  Elaina jumped at the whispered voice behind her and turned. It was the youngest. Or at least she assumed he was the youngest because he had a boyish look about him still. She’d known instinctively that the one by the fireplace was the oldest, but it wasn’t so much that he appeared so much older than the others but carried the weight of dominance about him. “How did you know that I was here?” she hissed.

  He quietly laughed. “Because you are the one who taught me that this was the best place to eavesdrop.”

  She had? “I don’t recall doing so, nor do I recall standing here before, I just knew this is where I’d hear everything.”

  “It will come to you eventually,” he assured her.

&nbs
p; “How can you be so certain?”

  “You recognized Mother and she’s been gone a long time.”

  “How long?” Elaina asked.

  The young man pursed his lips and gave her a look that bespoke that she should know better than to ask that question.

  “Oh, this is so frustrating, I’m not going to fall apart if I learn something about myself.”

  “I agree, but Xavier would have my head if I told you anything.” Then he grinned and mischief lit in his blue eyes. “Oh dear, I mentioned a name.”

  Elaina nearly snorted. “Someone else called him that and then I remembered that he’d been attending medical school. At least that is a vague memory, but that part I recalled on my own.”

  “What other names were mentioned?” he asked.

  “Micah, and I remembered him in his regimental uniform. Was he injured in battle?”

  He studied her for a moment. “As that occurred after we thought you were gone, I see no harm. He suffered a near debilitating injury at the Battle of Vitoria. We honestly didn’t think he’d walk again. Sometimes he can get around without the cane, but not very often.”

  “I do hope you are not going against my wishes and filling Elaina’s head with things she must discover on her own.”

  The two of them jumped and turned to find Xavier leaning out the window staring at them.

  “Only how our brother was injured because she asked and it isn’t something that she’d have memory of,” the youngest defended.

  Xavier shook his head and blew out a belabored sigh. “Please keep all information to yourself in the future. Elaina must heal on her own.”

  “You could at least tell her everyone’s name,” the youngest argued and then stepped through the large window since their location was no longer secret, then he held his hand out to assist Elaina in doing the same.

  She giggled when she was back in the parlor. “I do believe I’ve done that before.”

  “Yes, you have,” the gentleman by the fireplace confirmed. “Often.”

  “I’m not certain giving her names will be of assistance.”