Her Counterfeit Husband (8 page)

As she
led the laundry maid out of
the room, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something important he didn’t know but should?  And did he dare press the issue when it was clear their marriage had been on shaky ground prior to his illness?
  It seemed to him the best recourse was to start fresh, to make this a new beginning for them both, and if he was going to make that new beginning, he couldn’t afford to rehash the past.  Closing his eyes, he promised himself that he wouldn’t think of the past anymore.  From now on, he’d focus on the future and see where it’d take him and Anna.

A
week later, Anna played her favorite melody on the piano in the drawing room.  Many times, this tune brought her a sense of peace
, and right now, it seemed to be the only escape she
had from her worries.  Her fingers pressed down on the keys as she closed he
r eyes.  As in times past,
she
tried to conjure up a
world she often imagined—a world where she was alone in a cottage near a stream surrounded by wildflowers and sunshine.  It was her special place, and she didn’t dare tell anyone in case they laughed at her.  She
was a duche
ss, a wealthy one at that.  Why
would she have need to escape to a better place?  But if people understood how shallow money was when one was miserable, then perhaps they wouldn’t think it so strange that she loved her daydreams as much as she did.

A tear slid down her cheek, and she stopped playing so she could wipe it away.  Today her mental escape to the cottage with the gentle flowing stream wasn’t
coming.  For the life of her, she couldn’t get the stranger out of her mind.  It shouldn’t grieve her that he was so nice.  She should have welcomed it after years of feeling like she was walking on eggshells to accommodate her husband.  And yet…  And yet,
he
terrified her.  She didn’t know how to respond to him.

It was h
er fear someone might realize he
wasn’
t her husband and track down her husband’s
body rotting in the ground
of
the forest that compelled her to tend to him as much as she did.  As long as she
could keep them from getting
close, they might not suspect anything was different.  And the stranger was different.  It was easy to explain the lack of memory for things her husband had known and did.  But how could she explain why he hated quail or playfully joked around or asked for things instead of barking out orders?  It was
so
obvious that he wasn’t the same person
.  Someone was bound to notice, or so she feared.

“I hoped you would finish the music,” Appleton said as he entered the room.

She blinked back another tear and took a deep breath so he wouldn’t
notice her weakness.  It was ironic how he’d seen her at her weakest in the past
when it came to her husband, but
she did
n’t dare let him see how much the stranger
unnerved her.  She straightened her back and cleared her throat.  “I think I missed a note as I played,” she finally replied and picked up from the beginning of the piece.

“We
can’t get it right every time, Your G
race,” he replied.  “I thought you mi
ght like to have tea and scones
.”

“Has it already been an hour since you came in to ask if I wanted them?” She turned to the mantle above the fireplace and looked at the clock.

“Yes, it has.”

She turned her attention back to him and sighed.  “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood to eat or drink anything.  I’ll just wait until dinner.”

“As you wish.  I also came to inform you that the
gentle
man upstairs would like to see you.”

Her heart pounded in a mixture of excitement and dread.  “Oh?”

“I suspect he’s getting restless staying in his bedchamber all day.”

“Yes, he probably is.” She ran her fingers over the smooth keys of the piano and tried to decid
e if she should wait
or go up there immediately.

“You can’t keep him away from the world forever,” Appleton kindly said, his voice low.

“I know.
”

He offered her an understanding smile.  “I realize it’s easy for me to say that since I’m not in the precarious position you are, but it is comforting to know he’s a good
gentle
man.”

“But since he is a good
gentle
man, are we condemned for lying to him?  We’re making him a liar right along with us.”

Appleton sat on the bench next to her and kept his voice low so no one would overhear them.  “And what would be the alternative?  Lord Mason becoming the d
uke?
  Then what?”

Of course, he was right.

“Wherever the
gentle
man upstairs is from, it’s not from around here,” he said.

“I don’t suppose we’ll ever know what brought him to the forest that night or why someone wanted him dead.”

“Probably not, but I see no reason to worry about it.  Whatever he did t
o end up in the forest, I’d rather have him be the duke than Lord Mason
.  At least he’ll treat you well.”

The sound of someone coming toward the drawing room caused them to stop talking.  She cleared her throat and faced the piano while Appleton hastened to his feet and approached the doorway.  To her surprise, the stranger entered the room.  Even if he had a cane to assist him, she didn’t think he should be so careless.

She bolted from the bench a
nd hurried over to him.  “Your G
race, you shouldn’t push yourself so hard.”

“I feel well enough to walk.  As long as I take it slow, I’m fine,” he assured her, glancing at Appleton.  “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” she quickly replied.  “Appleton was just telling me that you wished to see me.”

“Yes.  I got impatient waiting for you, so I figured I’d come down to see you.” He smiled in his usual disarming way.  “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no I don’t mind.  I just don’t want you to get a relapse, that’s all.”

Appleton cleared his throat.  “Shall I bring in some tea?”

“Yes, please,” she replied.

After he left,
the stranger turned to the open book on the piano.  “Do you make it a habit of playing this m
elody?” He motioned to the songbook
.

She
closed the book
and placed it on top of the other two books.  “Yes.  Are you sure you feel well enough to be down here?  The doctor says you’re making excellent progress, but I don’t think you should push yourself too hard.”

“I told you I’m fine.” With a smile, he added, “Do you like to play music?”

“It’s something I do to pass the time.” She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to talk to him about it since she enjoyed it so much. Maybe it was something that was too personal.  For sure, she had no intention of playing anything when he was in the room.  She moved away from the piano and pulled aside the curtains.  “It’s a pleasant day.  If
you feel up to it
, perhaps we should venture for a walk.  Nothing long, of course, but a brief one should be all right.  Some fresh air might do you good.”

His gaze lingered on the piano, and she thought he might press her about her music.  But to her relief, he nodded and hobbled toward the settee.  She noted how much he relied on the cane and wondered exactly how extensive his wounds were.  She could only imagine what the men who beat him and left him for dead did to him, but considering the fact that he didn’t
remember and Appleton’s friend hadn’t disclosed the details to her, it’d always remain a mystery.

He eased onto the settee and let out a breath.  With a chuckle, he glanced her way.  “I hope this won’t get me in trouble, but I have to admit that sitting isn’t as easy as it looks.”

Her eyebrows furrowed and she took a step toward him.  “Are you in pain?”

“Only a little.” As she opened her mouth to suggest he take something for the pain, he added, “It’s a minor thing.  I’m already feeling better.”

She wasn’t sure if he said that so she wouldn’t send him right back upstairs to rest in bed.  He shot her a smile, and she ave
rted her gaze.

Appleton came into the room and set th
e tray with the tea and scones
on it.  “Is there anything else you require of me?”

The stranger looked at her, so she shook her head.
  “That will be all for now, thank you.”

Applet
on bowed and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

“Will you sit?”

Blinking, she turned her attention back to the stranger.  Though he patted the spot next to him on the settee, she opted to sit in the chair across from him.  “I can pour the tea better if I sit here,” she quickly explained before he asked her why she chose to sit away from him.

“All right.”

Even if he accepted her excuse, he had to know it was a lie.  She could reach the tea just fine from the settee.  But there was no way she could sit next to him.  Not when being near him was starting to stir up emotions she’d long ago forgotten she could feel.

She poured their tea and dared a look in his direction.  She knew she couldn’t keep thinking of him as “the s
tranger”, but she couldn’t think of him as
Jason either.  Perh
aps it was time she settled on thinking of him as
“His G
race”.  He was here to be the duke, after all, and it was appropriate she start thinking of him as such.  She realized putting him in her husband’s place wasn’t easy, but it was something she agreed to when she brought him here.

Releasing her breath, she handed him his cup, hoping he didn’t detect the slight trembling of her hand. 
As long as he didn’t realize how nervous he made her, she could handle it.

He accepted the cup and scanned the room.  “I take it this is primarily your room.”

“Really?  What makes you say that?”

“The flowers.  They’re all over the place.”

Curious, she turned from the tray and inspected the room.  “They aren’t all over the place.  I only have two vases with flowers in them.”

His smile widened.  “Exactly.”

Realizing he was joking, she relaxed and giggled.  “If you think that’s too much, just wait until you see all the flowers outside
come spring
.”

“The grounds are littered with them?”

She picked up her cup.  “You might feel faint if you think two vases full of flowers are too much.  I’ll bring the
smelling salts
when we go for walks
.”

He laughed.  “
I’m relieved to be in the hands of someone
so practical.  I bet you’
ve
even figured out how you’ll carry me back into the house if I should faint.”

“I wouldn’t carry you.  I’d have the footman or,” she stopped herself before she referred to Appleton by name in front of him, “
the
butler do it.”

“As I said, you have
it all figured out.  I am fortunate
to be in such capable hands.”

She took a sip of tea
.  “I trust you wil
l manage during our brief walk.  Hopefully, you’ll manage the fallen leaves better than flowers.  You
wouldn’t want to be known as the duke who was defeated by such delicate things.”

“No, you’re right.  I’d most likely be the laughingstock of noblemen everywhere.”

Her lips curled up at the way he shuddered.  She drank more tea, glancing at him as she did so.  The resemblance between him and her husband was still disturbing, and she had to remind hersel
f the two weren’t the same person
.

He reached toward
the tray and picked up a scone
to eat.  “It’s quite a strange thing, don’t you think?”