The Sweetest Touch

by Marie Higgins

  “No, I don’t recall them ever mentioning one, but there’s an uncanny resemblance between Louisa and Lady Danvers. Are you not friends with Lord Danvers’ nephew, Wellesley?”

  “We were briefly introduced a few years ago, but I wouldn’t say we were close.” He squeezed his mother’s hand. “Do not fret. I’m quite certain if Louisa is of any relation, we shall hear about her disappearance soon.”

  “As always, you are correct.” She sighed heavily. “It’s just devastating to think that her family could be out there somewhere praying for her safe return. I know I prayed day after day for word about your brother, Tristan, when we thought he had died. Because his body was never found, I hoped that perhaps he lived and was lost somewhere.”

  Trevor’s heart clenched, remembering the tragedy of his brother’s death, only to discover two years later he was alive and had lost his memory. “Yes, that was a joyful day when Trey brought him home alive. I wish the same fate for Louisa, but Mother, please don’t think she will be as fortunate. Those scars on her back tell me her life has not been good. She may not have a loving family to return home to as Tristan did.”

  Tears gathered in his mother’s eyes. “I have been kept in a sheltered world, I suppose, and it’s hard for me to image anything so disturbing.”

  “It is hard. All I’m saying is don’t mention anything to Lady Danvers or her nephew. Don’t even speak a word of this to your friends. Miss Louisa may become a servant in my home eventually and I would hate to have gossip going around about her.”

  His mother lifted her hand to her throat, toying with her pearls again. “You really intend to make Louisa a servant here?”

  He nodded. “Don’t you agree it will be a better life than what she may have come from?”

  “Of course it would be a better life. I just worry about you and the twins and I would hate so see anything bad come out of all this.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You are such a thoughtful man.” She pulled away but hooked her hand around his arm. “Now, take me to see my beautiful grandchildren.”

  “As you wish.” He gritted his teeth as he walked with his mother toward the nursery. It had been a few days since he’d seen the twins himself, and he geared for the heartache that would slam through his chest when he looked upon them.

  Until he discovered their true parentage, which might never be possible, he held his emotions inside. The twins were only two years old, and it would be easy to love them with all of his heart. But he refused to give them his love until he knew the truth. Their mother had broken his heart, and he feared any more damage might do him in for good.

  He tried to focus on his mother’s chatter about her other grandson—Trey and his wife, Judith’s first child. A boy that looked exactly like Trey—poor lad. Trevor hoped his nephew would inherit Judith’s sweet nature instead of Trey’s stubbornness. Trevor loved his brother, and thanked the Lord his brother had changed for Judith, but Trevor still felt his nephew would do better in life if he took after his mother.

  They reached the nursery and his mother opened the door and walked in. Trevor forced himself to move behind her. Mrs. Jacobs sat in a chair reading a book. Amanda lay, tummy side down beside her on the floor, concentrating on her small wooden farm animals. Adam sat next to his sister playing with blocks. When the little girl’s head bounced up to meet her grandmother’s, Amanda’s cherubic face bloomed with color. She jumped to her feet and squealed, throwing her arms out. Adam smiled wide and ran into Trevor’s mother’s embrace.

  “Oh, look at how much you two have grown.” His mother picked them both up in her arms and kissed their chubby cheeks. “Grandmamma has missed you terribly.”

  Mrs. Jacobs set her book down, stood and bowed. “Your Grace. What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

  His mother set the twins down and took each of their hands. “So, what have my wonderful grandchildren learned today?”

  As Mrs. Jacobs told his mother about the twins’ accomplishments, Amanda snuck a peek at Trevor around her grandmamma’s skirt. Big, wondrous eyes, so much like Gwen’s. In fact, Amanda looked a lot like her mother. Both children did. If only they’d have a hint of Worthington show through, Trevor would give his twins the world on a silver platter. As it was, Amanda peered at him as if she would cry at any minute. Another piece of his heart broke again—just like what always happened when he came into the nursery.

  He tried to give her a pleasant smile as he nodded. She quickly buried her face in his mother’s dress. As much as he wanted Amanda and Adam to be his blood, he didn’t dare hope.

  Betrayal mixed with overwhelming guilt began to suffocate him, and he knew he needed to escape. “If you will excuse me,” he interrupted the two women. “I have business matters to attend.”

  “Of course, my dear.” His mother smiled warmly as she stroked each child’s head. “My grandchildren and I will spend some time together.”

  He gave a small bow before turning and leaving the room. Pain speared his heart, bringing back the same ache he’d experienced when he first discovered Gwen with another man. Trevor had longed for a child to call his own, and his wife snatched that from him by sharing herself with others. Was it any wonder he stayed away from the nursery? The suffering was too great to bear.

  Hurrying to his study, he cursed his weakness and vowed to harden his heart once more.

  Chapter Three

  Louisa sat on the window seat with bent knees against her chest as she peered outside. The sun’s descent painted the palest pink hues and a burnt orange on the horizon. Coolness from the window relaxed her a bit while the hearth held a roaring fire. Although she still couldn’t remember her life, she sensed her body wasn’t used to such warmth.

  She glanced at her toes peeking out from underneath her nightdress. Why were her limbs so thin? She’d been eating like a starved person, and thanks to Mrs. Smythe, the food kept coming. Louisa also had the impression she had never eaten such scrumptious meals, either.

  As the housekeeper busily tidied up the room, Louisa stared in bewildered silence. This wasn’t right. She couldn’t allow the servant to wait on her. Louisa jumped to her feet and straightened the blankets on the bed.

  Mrs. Smythe spun around and gaped. “Miss Louisa, what are you doing?”

  “I’m helping you.”

  “But why?”

  “I don’t think I’m used to being waited on.” Louisa stilled for a moment. Deep inside she had the horrible feeling that she’d had no one to look after her. The realization left her hollow and cold.

  Mrs. Smythe shooed her with her hands. “You are still very weak. Please sit back by the window while I finish up here.”

  Louisa nodded and did as requested. Boredom fell over her quickly, and she realized something else about herself. She couldn’t stay idle.

  From the corner of her eyes, a lovely jewelry box sat on the small table closest to her. Carved with swirly gold lines and red hearts, the wooden box was decorated with chips of colored glass. Curiosity pulled her nearer. Those chips weren’t just colored glass, but…rubies.

  She glanced at the housekeeper who wasn’t looking, and then quick as lightning, Louisa snatched the object and hid it under her leg, knowing this would bring a tiny sum to her pocket.

  Wait… What was she doing? There was no reason she needed to steal this. Unease spread through her as if she’d just been bathing with the pigs. What on earth had made her want to take such something, especially from the people who were nursing her back to healthy? Cautiously, she withdrew the jewelry box and placed it back on the table.

  The housekeeper picked up the tray of empty dishes and turned to Louisa. “I’m happy to see you have a healthy appetite. His lordship will be relieved to hear that as well. Do you need me to get you anything before I leave?”

  Slowly, Louisa blew out a relieved breath that the older woman hadn’t seen her take the expensive item. “You have been so thoughtful, Mrs. Smythe. I feel I should be doing that instead of you.”


  “Oh, nonsense. You need to gain your strength.”

  “Indeed, I do. Even with all the food I have eaten, I feel weak as a kitten.”

  “I must say, you have more color in your face this evening.”

  “That’s good to know.” Louisa smiled. “Before you leave, I do have one small request, if you please.”

  “What is that, miss?”

  “Would you find me some books to read? I have become bored today and wish to indulge my mind with stories since I don’t have anything to think about.”

  The housekeeper’s eyes flew open wide. “You can read?”

  Louisa scrunched her forehead. What an odd question. “But of course. Why would you think otherwise?”

  Mrs. Smythe shrugged and gave a light chuckle. “Forgive me for doubting your ability, but when his lordship brought you here, your clothes were ragged beyond reason. I figured you to be an uneducated vagabond.”

  Shame weighed heavily in Louisa’s mind. She had ragged clothes? Perhaps she couldn’t read. Yet, she felt she knew how. “How very observant of you, Mrs. Smythe. I understand your reasoning. I wish I could tell you why I was dressed that way.”

  “No need to fret, miss. You must have been raised properly, because you are very well spoken. I’m certain His Grace will give you a better life here as one of his servants.”

  Hope blossomed in Louisa’s chest and she smiled. “Do you really believe so?”

  “Yes, I do. He’s a good man, I assure you. Kensington Hall is going to feel like heaven compared to where you came from. At least his lordship does not beat his servants, like yours did.”

  Louisa lost her smile. What was the old woman talking about now? “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. Why do you think my master beat his servants?”

  Mrs. Smythe frowned and shook her head. “Oh, my dear. I should not have said anything. Obviously you don’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Your back…you have long crisscross scars on it, as if you had been whipped.”

  A slow ache pounded in her head and she massaged her skull. Whipped? For the love of all that was holy, why would anyone do that to another human being? “I wish I could remember, but perhaps it’s a good thing I cannot.”

  “Yes, dearie. I suspect it is a good thing. I shall fetch some books for you right away.” The housekeeper waddled toward the door.

  “One more thing, please,” Louisa called out to the other woman. “Could you ask the duke if I might have a moment with him? I have some questions to ask about the night of the accident.”

  “Certainly.” Mrs. Smythe hustled out, leaving the door open.

  Louisa released a sigh and rested her forehead on her bent knees. From the way the older woman described Louisa’s appearance, she wondered what had happened in her past. She didn’t want to remember. Perhaps it was something terrible and traumatic, and her mind blocked it out. As much as she didn’t want to remember anything bad, she did want to think about something. Currently, all she could think about was the duke and his caring heart and the passion she’d witnessed in his gaze—if even for a brief moment.

  Since she’d first laid eyes on him, she couldn’t stop thinking about his kindness. This morning when he’d visited, his expression seemed hollow at first, as if he was just going through the motions of being concerned about her welfare. His mother appeared genuinely worried, but the duke… It was as if he stared right through to her soul, until he’d stepped closer. Once her eyes locked with his, she couldn’t look away. His mesmerizing blue eyes captivated her; held her prisoner. She didn’t mind at all. He was quite handsome, and the more she stared, the more she wanted to be held in his big strong arms, and drown in the warm compassion of his captivating cobalt eyes. She suspected he didn’t offer this expression very often.

  This wasn’t a proper way to think about someone who might become her employer, especially if Mrs. Smythe was correct and he planned to hire her. Surely Louisa only felt this way because he was her rescuer. If not for him, she would have died. Perhaps she admired him for saving her life and not for the person he really was. Then again, she didn’t know what kind of person he was.

  Heavy footsteps thumped up the stairs and she jerked up her head. Stalling at the door, the duke’s gaze swept over her. Even with the distance separating them, his eyes burned a path over her body. Realizing she was out of bed without her wrapper, she blushed and pulled her knees closer to her bosom.

  “Mrs. Smythe mentioned you wished to see me?”

  The duke’s deep voice stirred flutters in her chest and she nodded. “I would like to talk to you about the night of the accident, if you don’t mind.”

  He meandered into the room toward her. This evening he dressed casually. His white lawn shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, and his tan breeches appeared almost too snug on his thighs. The black knee-boots he wore made her wonder if he’d been out riding earlier. She let her gaze travel back up his wide chest and noticed his collar and cravat were missing, giving her a glimpse of his bare neck. When she caught herself gawking, embarrassment washed over her, yet her heartbeat quickened. Why did she act as if she’d never seen such a robust man before?

  Then again, she still didn’t know if she had or not. In reality, this very well could be her first time.

  He perched next to her on the window seat, which was large enough for both of them to sit without any part of his body touching hers. Although she wouldn’t mind having his leg brush hers—even if it was accidental.

  As soon as he leaned against the window, he pulled away and threw a quick peek at the glass as he rubbed his arm. “Aren’t you cold sitting here?”

  “No. The room is toasty warm and here by the window it’s refreshing.”

  He glanced at the hearth’s roaring fire. “Indeed, it is quite warm. I’ll have Mrs. Smythe dampen the fire.”

  “I appreciate it, Your Grace. You have been more than generous and I cannot thank you enough.”

  A small smile tugged on the corner of his mouth—a nicely shaped mouth that was hard not to stare at.

  “It is the least I could do since I nearly killed you,” he said.

  “Can you tell me what happened? I have so many unanswered questions, and with my mind blank, getting a few of them answered would be most valued.”

  Nodding, he shifted on the seat. “I will tell you what I know, which I fear is not much.” He braced his palms on the edge of the seat and leaned slightly forward, still keeping his eyes on her. “I was returning home from a dinner party, when I hit you. Clouds hid the moon, and I didn’t see you until too late.”

  “Where was I?”

  “You ran out from a group of trees into my path. I have no clue where you were coming from. And you must have been running fast because all I saw was a shadow before my horse struck you.”

  She rested her folded arms on her knees and leaned her chin on her forearm. “Mrs. Smythe says my clothes were tattered and dirty.”

  “Terribly so. And it appeared you had not bathed for a month.”

  She cringed. “Do you think I’m a vagabond?”

  “I did, yes, but then your appearance suggested you had fallen on hard times. However, I realize how well you speak, and it makes me wonder what really happened to you.”

  “Mrs. Smythe said there are scars on my back.” The duke nodded as though he knew exactly what scars she spoke of. A thrill rushed through her, wondering if he indeed saw her bare back. “D—did you see them?”

  “No. I left the room before she bathed you.”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, she slid her legs to the floor and stood. Threading her fingers through her hair, she walked toward the fire, her mind whirling with confusion as the pound in her head continued to grow. “Oh, I pray I will remember soon. I don’t wish to be a burden on you.”

  When she turned and caught his gaze, her mouth dried. His attention wasn’t on her face as she’d expected, but on her body, sliding over every inch, especially between her
neck and knees. His slow perusal made her heart hammer a foreign rhythm and caused her to burn from embarrassment. Once again, she’d forgotten she wasn’t wearing a wrapper.

  Quickly, she folded her arms in an attempt to hide herself. He rose and walked toward her at an unhurried pace. She couldn’t move, although she should fetch a shawl or something to cover herself. After all, she was a woman, and he was most certainly a man.

  “Miss Louisa,” he said in a deep voice as he lifted a lock of her hair lying on her shoulder. “You are not a burden to me or my staff.” His gaze moved briefly to her mouth before bouncing up to her eyes again. “I feel responsible for the accident, since my thoughts had wandered and I was not watching the road as I should have been.”

  “Please don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Obviously, I was not in my right mind when I ran into the street.”

  He cupped her chin with his other hand as he gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. “As it were, I feel responsible, which is why I shall keep you here until you are well.”

  His tender touch melted her insides, her limbs would soon follow, she was certain—unless she removed his hand, which she was reluctant to do. An invisible pull encouraged her to lean forward and snuggle against his palm, which she did very subtly.

  “What if I never regain my memory?” she whispered.

  His stare danced between her eyes and her mouth once again—but longer this time. Cotton took up residence in her throat, making it impossible to swallow.

  “Then I suppose I shall have to keep you on indefinitely,” he answered in a low tone.

  Somehow, he’d put her in a trance—one she did not wish to leave. She could stare into his blue eyes all night, just as long as he would continue looking at her as if he couldn’t get enough.

  But he pulled away, and his quick movement jerked her back to reality.

  “As a maid, of course,” he finished.

  Her body shook from either the accident or the hold he’d had on her a moment ago. “Of course, Your Grace.” She smiled. “But I wonder what it is I can do?”