when you left us,’ Penny said, encouraging him. ‘You did promise us a surprise. But really, we had no idea how welcome it would be. When Justine returned with you...’ She gave an emotional pause again, just as his brother had done. ‘She has been so good to you. To all of us, really. She never lost hope.’ Under the guise of wiping her fogged spectacles, Penny withdrew a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.
Only the woman, Justine, seemed to take it all calmly, as though a husband returning from death’s door with no memory of her was a thing that happened to everyone. When she spoke, her voice was unbroken and matter-of-fact. ‘You will be all right now. Everything is better than we could have hoped.’
‘As if being concussed and losing half a year of one’s life is a thing to be celebrated.’ He glared at her. Perhaps this lovely stranger had done nothing to deserve his anger. Or perhaps she had got him drunk and knocked him on the head so she could pretend to be his wife.
But that made no sense. He lacked the money and title necessary to be the target of such intriguing. If she meant him ill, why did she bring him home, afterwards? Why bother to nurse him back to health?
The mysterious Justine ignored his dark look and smiled down at him. ‘It is to be celebrated. The physician said you would never wake, yet, you did. Now that you can eat properly, you will grow stronger.’ But did he see a fleeting shadow in her eyes, as though his recovery was something less than a blessing?
Perhaps she was as confused as he, after all. Or perhaps he had hurt her. He had taken the trouble to marry her, only to forget her entirely. Now, he was snapping at her, blaming her for his sore head. Had he treated her thus, before the accident? Perhaps the marriage had been a mistake. If so, he could hardly blame her for a passing desire that his prolonged illness would end with her freedom.
When he looked again, her face was as cloudless as a summer day. The doubt had been an illusion, caused by his own paranoia. When he was stronger and had a chance to question her, things would be clearer. For now, he must rein in his wild thoughts and wait. He shook his head and immediately regretted it, as the pain, which had been ebbing, came rushing back.
She leaned closer, reaching across him for a cool cloth that lay beside the bed, pressing it against his forehead.
How did she know it would soothe him? It did not matter. If she guessed, she guessed correctly. He took her hand and squeezed it in what he hoped she would know as gratitude. But though the pain was lessening, his doubts were not. There was nothing the least bit familiar about the shape of the hand he held. Surely, if he had married her, the joining should not feel so entirely alien. As soon as he could do so without appearing awkward, he withdrew his hand.
She made sure the compress was secure and withdrew her own hands, folding them neatly in her lap as though equally relieved to be free of him.
While the two of them were clearly uncomfortable with each other, the rest of the room was ecstatic. ‘Whenever you are ready, we will bring you downstairs,’ Penny said. ‘Perhaps we can procure a Bath chair so that you might take sun in the garden.’
‘Nonsense.’ The compress slipped as he tried to struggle to his feet again. This time he made slightly more progress. He was able to swing both legs over the edge of the bed and sit up. Almost immediately, the dizziness took him and he felt himself sliding to the side.
Once again, Adam rushed in, taking his arm and holding him upright. ‘Easy. Do not try too much at once. There will be no Bath chair, if you do not wish it. You may go at your own pace. I am sure you will be walking well on your own in no time at all.’
‘But you do not need to do it now,’ Penny insisted. ‘Rest is still important. And quiet. For now, we will leave the two of you alone.’
‘No.’
‘Yes.’ He and the woman spoke simultaneously.
‘You need your rest,’ Justine said, laying a hand gently on his chest to try to ease him back down to the mattress. ‘There will be time later for us to speak.’
‘I have had more than enough rest,’ he said. ‘If you are all to be believed, I have been asleep for months.’ She was probably right. His head ached from even this small bit of activity. He needed time to think. But before that, he needed answers. Despite the innocent look on the beautiful face in front of him, Justine knew more than she had said.
‘Leave, all of you. Please,’ he added after noticing the shocked looks on their faces at his short temper. ‘But send for my valet. After all this time in bed, I want to wash and dress. Until he arrives, I will talk to my wife.’
‘Of course,’ his brother said, with a relieved smile. ‘If you are well enough, you can come down to dinner, or we will have a tray sent up. Either way,’ he stepped forward again and clasped Will’s hand in a firm grip, ‘it is good to see you recovering. Come, Penny, I am sure they have much to discuss that does not concern us.’
Once they were gone and the door shut behind him, he was alone in a room with a woman who claimed to be his wife. He suppressed a rush of panic. He was still too weak to defend himself, should she not be as kind as she appeared. But why could he imagine such a sweet-faced thing as a danger to him? If she’d meant him harm, she’d have had ample opportunity before now.
Still, should not a new bride be happier to see her husband recovering? If she loved him, why was she standing at the side of his bed, mute like a criminal in the dock? There was something wrong about her. It was one of many things he could not place.
She seemed to realise this as well, for she attempted a hesitant smile and slipped easily back into the role of caregiver. ‘Is there something I can get for you? Anything that might give you comfort?’
‘What a good little nurse you are, to be so solicitous.’ he said, not feeling particularly grateful for it. ‘At the moment, there is nothing I need, other than an end to this charade.’
‘There is no charade,’ she said, looking more puzzled than frightened. ‘We are not trying to trick you. You were injured and have been unconscious for several months. Come to the window and you shall see. The christening was at Easter time. It is no longer spring, or even summer. The leaves are falling and the night air is chill.’
‘I do not need for you to tell me the weather,’ he grumbled, glancing at the grey sky beyond the glass. ‘I can see that for myself. And I know I was injured, for I still feel the pain of it.’ He ran a careful hand through his hair, surprised at the crease in the scalp. ‘But that does not explain the rest.’
‘What else is there?’ she said, though she must know full well what he meant.
‘It does not explain you. Who are you, really? And who are you to me?’ He looked full into the wide green eyes. ‘For I would swear before God that you are not my wife.’
‘William,’ she said, in a convincingly injured tone.
‘That is my name. And what is yours?’
‘Justine, of course.’
‘And before you married me?’ he said, unable to help sneering at such an unlikely prospect.
‘My surname? It was de Bryun.’ She paused as though waiting for the bit of information to jar loose some memory. But nothing came.
‘So you say,’ he replied. ‘I suppose next you will tell me you are an orphan.’
