Chaste Kiss (28 page)

"Thanks.” She gave him a tight smile with a sniffle. “Well, I guess I'd better get going. I wouldn't want Officer Pauley to wear out the waiting room rug."

"Knock, knock,” Debi said, as she stuck her head in the door. “I thought I'd find you here, Isabel.” As usual, her friend entered the room with a flourish.

With a groan, Mick rolled his eyes back into his head.

Isabel smiled a real smile for the first time in days. These two picked and poked at one another more than her uncle and Constance.

For a moment, she felt jealous. They'd probably get together too. It seemed everyone had someone but her.

No, that wasn't quite right. She had someone, but he only existed in her heart instead of her life now.

"I need you to save me,” Debi said with wild exaggeration. “Jerome and Constance are driving me batty. You snuck out on them, and now they're camped out at the shop. Please, take them home.” She clasped her hands together in mock prayer.

Isabel choked back a chuckle. Debi had a way of bringing laughter with her no matter where she went. Even in light of all that had happened, she found a way to make everyone smile.

Taking her friend's hands in hers, she played along with the melodrama. “I'll go over there right now and send them home. And since you've been punished beyond reason, take the rest of the day off."

"Isabel,” Mick warned.

"I'm going to work, Mick. It's all I've got left.” She turned back to Debi. “You, my friend, enjoy your afternoon. Think of it as a long weekend with tomorrow being Sunday and all. And I'll go see what I can do with Mrs. Bondurant's guestroom. And you,” she said, moving to back to Mick's bedside. “Do what the doctor tells you.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He struggled to contain the crooked grin sneaking across his mouth. “Yes, ma'am."

"What's this about the doctor?” Debi asked.

Isabel stopped at the door and looked back over her shoulder. The small smile had slipped from Mick's face.

"He told me to get well. And I'm well. Now unless both of you ladies want the full show, I suggest you hightail it out of her, because I'm getting dressed.” He started to rise out of bed.

"Just a minute there, Superman.” Debi pressed her hands against his bare chest, pushing him back against the pillows.

Isabel grinned. The stunned look on his face was priceless.

Debi waggled her finger beneath his nose. “I talked with the head nurse, and you're not scheduled to get out of here for at least another day."

"I get out of here when I say I get out of here. And that time is now."

"Nope.” She pressed him down again.

"Lady, if you don't watch it—"

"Like you're in any condition to make threats. You lost a lot of blood, Columbo, and that means rest.” She turned and plopped a large canvas bag onto the bed table. “I came over here to find Isabel and to drop off some magazines for you to read."

Mick turned to look at Isabel. “Please, take her with you so I can get out of here."

"Sorry, Detective. Looks like you're on your own,” Isabel said. “I've got work to do.” With a smile and a wink, she left.

She had no doubt her friend would keep him in bed even if she had to tie him down. Debi probably felt the same as Isabel where he was concerned. She may say he wasn't her type, but Isabel had a sneaking suspicion the gruff detective had managed to get under her skin. Debi just didn't know it yet.

Biting back her jealously, Isabel made her way out to the parking lot with Officer Pauley on her heels and a silent prayer of thanks on her lips. Mick was all right. If only she could say the same for William. Was he in pain? Was he lonely? Had he been allowed to take his memories with him into Purgatory?

"Stop it,” she hissed, and climbed into her car. “Just go to work and get on with your life.” Choking on the words, she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

A flash of color from the corner of her eye caught her attention, and for a moment, she hoped. Even though she knew he wasn't there, she had to look at the passenger seat.

Empty.

Tears fell steadily as she made her way down Main Street.

The incessant pounding in William's head overwhelmed him. With each throb, tiny stars burst in front of his eyes, blinding him. Or was there anything to see at all?

"Wake up, dear,” a worried voice said.

With Herculean strength, he opened his eyes and focused on a woman with two heads staring down at him.

No, wait. Not two heads. A head wearing a rather ugly hat. Her hair, nearly completely gray, complimented her pale blue eyes quite nicely, but the soft wrinkled features of her face were distorted with concern as she studied him.

"Aunt Tess?” he asked groggily. How had he known that was her name?

"Wonderful! You're awake!"

He grimaced at her joyful declaration.

"Jonathan, he's awake,” she said, turning her head to the side.

"About time, old man. We were beginning to worry about you."

A wave of pain sliced through his skull as he turned to see the owner of the other voice. Through foggy vision, he made out a fair-haired man with a thin moustache atop a wide smile.

"Jon?” Images faded in and out of his mind. Jonathan Harthcourt, his life long friend. They went to school together.

No, that couldn't be right. He'd been tutored at home, hadn't he?

"Right on the money as usual, old man. How do you feel?"

Feel? He shouldn't be feeling anything, should he? What an odd thought, but he was definitely feeling and it wasn't good. “Like I've been bludgeoned by a mace. Where am I?"

"You're still a little disoriented, aren't you, dear?” His aunt patted him on the arm. “You're in the hospital. You had us all so worried."

"How did I get here?"

Jon moved closer. “In a car, of course. Tessie wasn't too pleased with my driving,” he said, grinning at his aunt.

"Now, Jonathan, I did not complain.” She pursed her lips. “Even though I still feel a bit woozy from such a harrowing speed. I hope you don't drive that way all the time."

Jon chuckled. “Don't worry, Tessie. I got you here and that's what counts.” Turning back to William, he asked, “You were thrown from your horse, remember?"

He rubbed his throbbing head. “No. Not a thing."

"Come now, you must remember. You and I went for a ride, and a rabbit scurried out of the brush, startling Arif. You took a nasty blow to the head,” Jon explained.

A bolt of clarity came and went through his befuddled brain. “Arif. The stallion I purchased from you. But I thought—wasn't it a man who came out of bushes?"

"Good God, no. You are mixed up, my friend."

Mixed up was an understatement. Everything seemed out of place, off-kilter. He remembered falling and then he didn't. He had the oddest sensation of being in two places at once. Not unlike the feeling of seeing one's reflection several times at once in a house of mirrors. Only he couldn't quite figure out which one was the real man.

William focused on his aunt's face, still wrought with worry. “I'm fine, Aunt Tess. Everything's just a bit fuzzy."

That's what it had to be. He recognized her and Jon, and he knew his own name. Didn't he? His mind searched for a fraction of a second before quickly settling on his identity.

He was Thomas William Ashenhurst, the Earl of Kent.

"How long have I been here?” he asked.

Tess brushed his hair back from his brow. “Several days, I'm afraid. When you'd fallen, you seemed to be merely dazed, but by the time we managed to get you into the car, you'd collapsed entirely. We hurried you to the hospital as quickly as we could."

The door swung open and a tall man with red-brown hair and a bushy moustache walked in carrying a clipboard. He reminded him of someone, but he couldn't quite place his finger on whom.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Hanes. Glad to see you've finally decided to join us.” He took his hand and shook it firmly. “I need to have a bit of a look at you."

He pulled out a small flashlight and pointed it in his eyes. “From the looks of things I'd say after a few more hours or so of observation you will be able to go home. There were no broken bones and only a mild concussion. We were quite perplexed by your unwillingness to wake up, but that appears to have solved itself. Any problems, questions, or concerns?"

"Other than a grand headache, no,” William replied. “However, my memories are a bit fuzzy, but they're slowly becoming clearer."

The doctor placed the torch back into his jacket pocket and made a few notes. “I see. Very unusual for so slight an injury. Have you been under a great deal of pressure lately?"

"Not that I can remember. Aunt Tess?"

"No, dear. You've been fine as far as I know.” She turned her worried from to the doctor. “Is he going to be all right?"

"Oh, don't worry yourself, mum. He'll be right as rain in a day or so."

The doctor stroked his moustache thoughtfully as he studied him. “Most unusual,” he muttered, then quickly lifted his chin. “But if you're confident that you're feeling all right, I see no reason you can't go home. Unless of course you'd like to stay another night."

"No. I'd like to go home.” Although at the moment, William wasn't quite sure where that was.

"Right. Well, then. No alcohol for at least twenty-four hours, and it would be best if someone woke you up every few hours or so during the night. Just to be on the safe side. I'll be getting along, now. If you should need anything or have any questions, just buzz the nurse and she'll find me.” With that, the man left.

"Oh, thank heavens. I was so worried,” Tess said.

"Not much of an examination,” William muttered.

"Don't worry, old man. He saw plenty of you over the last few days. He didn't seem to be too pleased with you sleeping away when there was nothing physically wrong with you,” Jon said with a chuckle. “Oh, by the way. Your fiancé is here to see you. The minute she heard what happened she rushed right over and camped out in the lobby. I do believe she must have a few spies at Ashenhurst Hall. Seems to always know where you are and what you're up to. Now where's the fun in that, I ask you?"

His mind swirled with images he couldn't explain, but one intrigued him the most. A woman with auburn hair and emerald eyes. She must be his fiancé, but for the life of him he couldn't name her.

"Would you send her, Jon? I'd like to see her,” he said, hoping he might recognize her.

His friend headed for the door with a shake of his head. “You're a braver man than I."

"Jonathan Harthcourt,” Tess scolded. “You shouldn't talk that way about Winifred. It isn't seemly."

Chuckling, he bowed slightly then strolled out the door.

Winifred
. Why didn't that fit the image of the woman in William's mind?

A few minutes passed and a tall skinny blonde hurried into the room. “Thomas! Are you all right? They wouldn't let me in to see you.” She threw her gangly arms around his neck.

Definitely not the woman, and she'd called him Thomas. Although it was his name, for some reason it didn't sound right. His head pounded harder, something he didn't think possible as he struggled with his thoughts.

Jon stepped up beside the bed. “I told you, Winny. Only family was allowed in."

The woman released him and turned to face his friend. “And how, pray tell, did you get in here?"

"I have connections.” With a crooked grin, Jon winked.

She placed her hands on her tiny hips. “A slew of nurses who have fallen under your charms, no doubt."

"My charms don't seem to affect you, Winny."

"Haven't you heard? They've created a new vaccine. It's called wolfs bane.” She turned up her nose triumphantly.

"So you've had your shots?"

"Are you implying—why you—” Winifred crossed the room and thrust her finger into Jon's chest. “You are the most contemptible man I have ever met. Why Thomas continues to associate with you escapes me."

"I'll wager that's not all that escapes you,” Jon grumbled.

William sat in silence, listening to their exchange. Their bickering felt familiar and yet the thought of being engaged to this twig of a woman seemed drastically wrong.

"That's quite enough out of both of you.” His aunt's firm tone quickly quieted the room. “Thomas has had a nasty fall and doesn't need this upset."

"I'm all right, Aunt Tess,” he lied. Their continued use of his first name irritated him nearly as much as his pounding head.

"Rubbish. Come along you two. Thomas needs to rest before I take him home.” She pushed his friend and fiancé from the room. “I shall be back in an hour, dear, to collect you.” She threw him a kiss and closed the door behind her.

William wanted to shake his head to clear the cobwebs, but didn't dare. Instead he settled deeper into his pillow, closed his eyes, and tried to rest. But she was there again. The woman without a name.

Who was she? Was she even real? He drifted in and out of sleep, but always with the unknown woman not far from his thoughts, and he had the strangest feeling she was in danger. But if that were so, then she was real, which brought him back to his original question. Who was she?

When his aunt returned, William was more than ready to go home. He had a definite picture of Ashenhurst Hall in his mind and hoped it would be as he remembered it. The unfamiliar, yet familiar images constantly churning in his head were unsettling.

The drive wasn't overly long from the little country hospital, but long enough to allow his thoughts to wander. As he took in the landscape, he noted how everything seemed normal yet completely changed. William despised the sense of duality. He could scarcely wait to get home and put his life back into an orderly fashion.

The car stopped in front of the old hall and again he felt as though everything were different. He'd remembered it correctly, or at least most of it, and tried to latch on to the facts at hand. The ones that were clear as crystal and standing before him, but as he stepped out of the car and scanned the grounds, he noted too many inconsistencies. There were no formal gardens. No azalea bushes or rhododendrons.

A small pang of disappointment settled over him. He'd hoped to take a walk among the flowering shrubs along the quiet pebbled path to clear his mind, but there were no paths. The gardens were natural and surrounded mostly by fields.