Her Counterfeit Husband (6 page)

It was on th
e tip of her tongue to suggest he stop trying to bait the stranger, but she managed to hold her tongue.  Anything she said would only make things worse.  His suspicions were already raised.  She didn’t need to add fuel to the fire.

“I won’t intrude any longer on your time with your wif
e,” Lord Mason told him
.  “It’s very kind of her to tend to your wounds when a servant could do it.  She must love you very much.” With a glance in her direction, he added, “Who knew?”

She clasped her hands together so she wouldn’t shove him o
ut the door as he left the room
.  She closed her eyes and counted the seconds until she could hear his footsteps going down the hallway and toward the stairs.  Once she did, she shut the door to the room and released her breath.  Her gaze went to the stranger who smiled at her.

“You tend to my wounds because you love me?” he softly asked.

Unsure of how to answer that
question, she went over to him.  “I’m your wife.  Caring for your needs is something I do.” She reached under his shoulders.  “Let’s see how your
back is healing
.”

He obliged and aided her
and rolled to his side
.  “Do I like my brother?”

“I don’t know.” And that was the truth.  She had no idea if her husband had ever liked his brother or not.  Most of the time, it didn’
t seem like the two had a good relationship, but how could she know for sure?  “Don’t worry about it.  What’s important is that you’re feeling better
.” So he wouldn’t ask her anything else about Lord Mason, she quickly a
dded, “You wanted to know about the first time
we met?”

As she inspected his back to see how the bruises were healing, he said, “Yes, I would.  Are you ready to tell me?”

“Yes.” She was as re
ady as she was ever going to be
.  “I was in my first Season and enjoying a walk
through Hyde Park with a
friend when an inconsiderate gentleman insisted on joining us.  My friend and I asked him to leave us alone, and though he went his way for
a few minutes, he returned
.”

She
wiped one of the cuts along his
upper back with a cloth
.
  Even though
it was
n’t
necessary, she a
dded more ointment to his back so she could
avoid eye contact with him.

“You noticed that the gentleman wouldn’t leave us alone,
” she continued,
“
so you
politely suggested he find some other form of entertainment.  We were grateful for your assistance, and after a brief
conversation
, we learned we’d be attending the same ball that evening.” Blinking back the tears from one of the few good memories she’d had of her husband, she added, “At the ball, you asked me to dance, and
it was then that
I knew I wanted to be with you.”

“So we married because we loved each other?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“
I don’t know if we loved each other, but I was fond of you and thought that in time…” She decided not to finish the sentence, but if she had, she would have admitted aloud that she thought the Duke of
Watkins had been worth loving
.  And that was the last thing she wanted to think.
  “Anyway, there’s not much else to tell about how we met.  We danced, you talked to my parents, and soon we
got married
in front of family and friends.”

“That doesn’t sound very exciting,” he said.

Unable to resist the chuckle that rose up in her throat, she asked, “And what would have made it exciting?”

“I suppose something exciting would have been if I had saved you from the threat of a wild an
imal attack or
gained control over
a horse that you’d been riding which had broken
free of your reins and was galloping
out of town.”

She laughed harder. 
“Neither of those scenarios are
l
ikely to happen in London.”

“Hmm….  Then perhaps I could have saved you from a burning building.”

“You have lofty ambitions, Your G
race.”

“I think if I am going to be someone worth marrying, I ought to do something impressive.”

She finished putting the ointment on his back and changed the towel on the mattress so he’d have a clean
one to rest on.  After he was settled
onto his back
, she wiped her hands on a clean cloth and sat beside him.  “What else do you want
to know?”

The more she told him about being the duke, the better off he’d be when
he talked to his friends, and now that she knew there was nothing
binding him
to his past life, she felt safe in moving forward.

“Can I have some water?” he asked.  “My throat feels dry.”

“Of cour
se.” She stood up and filled his glass with water.  When she turned back to him, she remembered that he needed to be sitting up and placed his glass back on the table.  “I need to help you up.”

Once
she helped him up, he finished his drink and she
settle
d
him
back into the bed again, but before she sat in the chair, he patted the spot on the bed next to him.  “Will you sit here?  I can see you better if you do.”

With a nod, she did as he bid.  He took her hand in his, and she resisted the urge to pull away from
him.  He was far too likable
, fa
r too gentle, far too appealing
.

“What do I enjoy?” he asked.  “What are my interests?  How long have I been a duke?  What do I do as a duke?”

She carefully thought over his q
uestions.  The last thing she wanted to tell him was that his favorite activities involved mistresses and gambling.
 
She licked her lips and exhaled.  “All right.  You like to go to
White’s
when you’re in London.”

“
White’s
?”

“It’s a gentleman’s club.”

“What
do I do there?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Gentlemen’s clubs are for gentlemen only, and what happens there is none of the wife’s business.”

“I’ll have to go there to find out then.  Maybe it’ll help spark a memory.”

“Maybe,” she whispered, though she knew it wouldn’t.  “While in London, you enjoy going to the theatre.”

“Are you allowed to go to theatres?”

“Yes.”

“Did you go with me?”

She nodded.  As his wife, it was her duty to
attend social activities with him while in London
.

“Do you like the theatre?” he asked.

“Y
es, I do.” It was the one thing she enjoyed doing, though she couldn’t say she cared to do it with her hus
band.  She just enjoyed going there
.

“We should do that.”

“We’ll have to do it when we go to London.”

“And when will that be?”

“I’m not sure
,” she replied
. 
“
Maybe next
s
pring
.”

“What season is it now?”

“Autumn
.”

“W
hen do people usually
go to London
?”

“
In the spring
.”

His smiled widened.  “Then I should be well enough to go to London
when it’s spring
, and you can take me to the theatre so I can see why I enjoy it.”

Despite her apprehension about going to London with him, she felt herself softening and wanting to do what he wanted in order to please him.
  “All right, but you must be healed enough first.”

“I’ll be good
and get plenty of rest.
”

“You’re hard to say no to,
Y
our
G
race.”

He sighed.  “Won’t you call me Jason?”

She shook her head.  “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“And you won’t let me call you Anna?”

“I think it’d be better if you didn’t.”

“Why not?” he wondered, his thumb stroking the top of her hand in a way that made her heart give an unexpected flutter.

Wishin
g to change the topic, she said
, “You enjoy horseback riding, fox hunts, and…and…” She struggled to think of another activity her husband liked that hadn’t involved drinking, mistresses or gambling, but her mind drew a blank.

“What about my parents?  When did I become a duke?  What do I do as a duke?”

Deciding those were safer questions to answer, she relaxed and told him all about her husband’s upbringing and role as a duke.

A
month later, Jason felt well enough to examine his bedchamber. 
He saw a small room off to the side of the main room.
  Curious, he
entered
it
and
studied the intricate carving along the edges
of the desk
.  The top was clear, but he thought the drawers
might hold some clues
to his past
so he pulled them open.  He sorted through the papers, but given his lack of memory
and inability to read
, the names and numbers made no sense to him. 
In one
of the drawers was a locked safe
.
  Next to it was a key, which he used to unlock it.  More papers.  He sighed.  How unfortunate it was he c
ouldn’t read.  He locked the safe
and put the key in the cabinet next to his bed since that seemed like a safer place for it
.
 
He returned to the desk and resumed his search. 
In another drawer, he
saw a couple bottles of liquor.

The door to his bedchamber opened.  Eager to see Anna, he carefully rose to his feet, ready to greet her.  To his surprise, a couple of maids followed Anna into the bedchamber, carrying
a bathtub and buckets of water. 
He watched as they filled the tub, and after they left the room, Anna closed the door and turned to him.

“You’re in need of a bath, Your G
race,” she said as she approached him.

“Do I smell bad?”

“Te
rribly.”

He sniffed himself and coughed.
  “All right.  I agree.  I need a bath.”

She giggled.  “Did you doubt me?”

“No, but I had no idea I was that filthy.”

“I wiped you down the best I could
when I gave you those sponge
baths
, but I could only do so much.”

His lip
s curled up at her slight joke.
He didn’t know why, but he got the feeling that she rarely made a light-hearted comment, let alone tell an outright joke.

She walked ove
r to him and held her hand out.
“Do you think you can
get into the tub on your own or would you like help
?”

Since
he welcomed any chance to touch her, he said,
“I better not take the chance.”

He slipped his arm over her shoulders.
  A sharp pain twisted in his side, and he
st
umbled as they rounded the bed.  S
he had to hold him so he wouldn’t fall forward.  His face warmed from embarrassment.  He knew he was having a rough time bouncing back from being ill and injured, but he’d hoped he could manage the walk across the room without incident.