Willoughby 03 - A Rogue's Deadly Redemption (9 page)

He raised a hand, pressed it to his temple. “My head feels like it’s going to break into two.”

“You’ve been in an accident. You really shouldn’t be up until the doctor has examined you. Especially after—”

She stopped. It wasn’t the time to tell him about the unwanted visit. But, as usual, he paid no heed to anything she said.

He was shaking his head, turning around, looking about the room in an odd, frantic way. Then his gaze met hers, and she startled.

Lily expected the usual dismissive look, one that advised she had no right to insist upon anything regarding him. But instead, a panicked uncertainty filled his gaze.

“Where am I? Who are you?”

“What? I am…Robert, that isn’t funny.”

“I agree, but I still don’t know you.” He was playing games. The softening she’d felt…why had she allowed that? He was still the same man.

Why had she come back? Why had she been so stupid to think he needed her?

She was unable to tell if he had no regard for how his choices affected others or worse, he did and everything was intentional. “I shall be on my way. Good day.” She swiveled on a foot and turned toward the door.

“Wait!”

She ignored him and made her way to the door, counting steps to give her something else to think about. She wasn’t fleeing. She was strategically leaving before he could strip her of even more pride.

“Don’t go,” he called after her. “I don’t understand. I don’t …Please. I don’t understand any of this.”

She took a step that put her into the hallway.
Keep going, Lily
.
He doesn’t need you.
She shook her head and took another step toward the staircase.

“I don’t know who I am.”

Lily’s heart plummeted into her gut. What kind of cruel game was he playing?

Anger rushed through her, and she swiveled, planted her hands on her hips. “If this is your way of mocking my decision to leave with a sudden awareness of conscience, well, it—” She faltered as the horror of what he was doing, the sheer madness of it all, hit her. “You are reprehensible.”

He stood in front of her, unsteady and as he lost balance, he reached out to grasp her shoulders. “Please, I need your help.” His grasp grew weaker as he tilted sideways.

Lily let out a cry as the man tumbled to the ground, taking her with him.

“Milady!” Mrs. Tandy cried.

Lily hit the floor with a painful thwack, her skirts and legs tangled with Robert’s limbs. She struggled to find her bearings, tried to separate herself from the sheer bulk and heat of his body. But he’d become dead weight.

“Oh dear God, what happened?” She pushed up on her hands so she could see his face.

His eyes were closed.

“Robert?” She placed a hand on his chest, and pushed. “Robert!” She met Mrs. Tandy’s gaze. “We must get him off the floor.”

“Is he…dead?” Fear clogged Mrs. Tandy’s words.

His chest moved with a reassuring solid pattern. “No.” Lily yanked on her skirt, to pry it from underneath his legs. Finally, she’d untangled herself completely and she sat next to his prone body.

Lily lifted her hand, let it hover over his chest. She just needed to be certain he was breathing. She let her hand drop, ever so gently, until it rested on his chest.

At the shallow, slow movement as he breathed, she let out a relieved sigh. But she couldn’t seem to make her hand move.

“Send for the doctor,” she told Mrs. Tandy. “Then get Jonathon to put Mr. Melrose into his bed.”

Mrs. Tandy nodded. “Jonathon is in the kitchen. I’ll get him now.” She scurried out. Lily couldn’t blame her.

Something was wrong with Robert, and Lily was almost terrified what might happen when—or if—he awoke again.

What game was he playing?

Lily ran a hand over her face and rubbed the grit from her eyes. She sat next to Robert, as she had done for the three hours since he’d collapsed. For the last half hour, he’d stirred every few minutes. The frenetic pace her heart set every time he moved was exhausting. He would wake up at any moment, and…well, she didn’t know what to expect.

What had happened to him?

Lily had never heard of people who forgot their memories, and the idea it could happen to Robert was preposterous. That had to mean he was conducting some elaborate charade.

But for what purpose? Did it have something to do with the men who had roughed him up?

Whatever he was about, it wouldn’t mean anything good for her. And yet, well, she wouldn’t just abandon an injured dog. She figured her husband had earned at least that much consideration.

“You’re here.” The soft words were raspy and Lily met Robert’s gaze. Pain was evident in his lowered eyelids, as if the very light injured him.

“You collapsed.” She reached for the glass of water by the bed and stood to administer it. His gaze moved with her, never leaving her eyes, sending an uncomfortable flare through Lily’s belly.

She lifted the glass to his lips and tilted so he could take a sip. And another.

“The doctor is here, he’s waiting.” She set the glass down and stepped back. “I’ll go get him.”

“Wait. Would you…talk to me for a minute?”

Her heart twisted. He hadn’t wanted to talk to her in months. “I wasn’t with you when the accident happened.”

“I don’t…remember.”

“The accident?”

He shook his head, then winced and closed his eyes. After a few moments, they opened again. “Anything. Any of it.” He looked up at her. “You. Who are you?”

Anger shoved to the top of the exhausting swirl of emotions careening inside. “Robert, I will not play whatever game you are about.”

“Is that something I would do?” he wanted to know, his expression guileless. “I…I don’t know anything. You. This house.” He frowned, as though trying to concentrate. “Nothing is familiar. I can’t recall…there is nothing, just this blurred darkness I can’t see beyond.”

She took a step toward him, reached out a hand. “You need to remain calm. You grew agitated last time and it made you collapse.”

“Will you tell me who I am?”

She should leave and never look back.

But Lily couldn’t make her feet move, couldn’t force herself to leave the room. She
knew
it was a game, she
knew
he was playing with her as a cat would a mouse.

That pull from the deepest, darkest part inside of her, that part that demanded his attention, begged for his love, wanted to be needed, beckoned, called. It set her heart to pound, quickened her breath.

“Please.”

The lure of his plea terrified her. She couldn’t get drawn in to whatever mess he’d created. “Edwin. He’s…he’s your valet. He can help.”

“My valet? Who—”

She didn’t stop. He was alive, and even injured, he was stable enough to scheme, to manipulate.

She couldn’t afford to stay in this house one more second, before she was sucked back into the dark hole of trusting him, of believing in him.

Not until she had some answers.

***

“So?” Lily asked a half hour later as Edwin entered the front parlor. As soon as Edwin had returned, Lily had sent him up to Edwin’s room then waited in the room closest to the front door, where she could gain the most distance and maintain a clear path to escape.

Edwin rubbed his forehead. “He didn’t know me.”

“If you’re going to play along with his—”

“I wish I were,” Edwin interrupted, then winced. “Forgive me. But he did not recognize me. He didn’t remember anything I told him.” His gaze met hers in confusion. “He doesn’t know who
he
is.”

Lily shook her head, and set the book down. “He is manipulating us.”

“He wouldn’t manipulate me.” Edwin’s flat words made it clear that he
would
manipulate Lily however. “There would be no point.”

“Why would he do this then? What has he done?”

“I am not at liberty to say.”

“But you said he can’t remember. Don’t you want to help him?” She did not believe for one minute that Robert had lost all memories.

“The doctor is with him now. We’ll see what his examination reveals.” Edwin was vague, as always.

In fact, this was the longest conversation she’d ever held with the man.

They waited in silence for the doctor to come find them. The old man walked in almost an hour later, shaking his silver-capped head. He ran fingers over his thick salt-and-pepper mustache. “I don’t rightly know,” he muttered. “The most confounded situation.” He looked up, as if realizing they were in the room. “This is nothing I’ve dealt with before, though I have heard of head injuries causing damage.”

“You have?” Lily asked with skepticism. He sounded almost fascinated. “So he
really
doesn’t remember anything?”

“I can’t say. His speech is fine. He can walk and talk, but all personal memory seems to be gone.”

“How do you get it back?” Edwin asked.

“No. Wait.” Lily held a hand up. “How do you know he isn’t pretending?”

The doctor shrugged. “I don’t. Not for certain. If he is, he is a very accomplished actor. He appears to have lost most memories of his life. He was also experiencing headaches, losing moments in the present. He couldn’t recall much about his earlier conversations today.” He snapped his bag closed. “I’ll need to confer with a few colleagues, discuss what research has been done on this illness, if any. For now, bed rest is all I can offer. Dismal, I know.”

Had he paid off the doctor? Had he…

God. She had so little trust in him. She expected the worst. Her conversation with Cary may have shed light on Robert’s perspective, but that changed nothing. It didn’t change the months of reading about his exploits in the papers. It didn’t change the months he’d spent taking his life in this dark, dangerous direction with men who would kill.

At the heart of everything, Lily knew that she’d never been able to trust their relationship—even when it had seemed good. It had been built with threads of uncertainty, of distrust.

Nothing Cary said changed the fact that Robert had wanted Cordelia, and he’d been forced to marry Cordelia’s sister instead.

“Someone should stay with him,” the doctor interrupted her thoughts. “Perhaps talk to him of his past, of his memories. Good ones, nothing that could cause discomfort or stress. Focus on the happy times. Maybe it will trigger something.” He gestured at Lily. “Having his wife by his side will be a great comfort, I imagine.”

The man must have missed the gossip column announcing her return to her brother’s house.

“In any case, he requested to see you, Lady Melrose.”

“Me?” Lily asked, surprised. “I thought you said he didn’t remember speaking with me earlier today.”

“When I mentioned his wife, he wanted to see you.” Dr. Levenlell headed toward the doorway. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve done some research on how to treat him.”

He left, and Lily turned to face Edwin. “If he is pretending, I need to know. Now.”

“I don’t believe he is.”

“Then tell me who those men were, Edwin, and what they wanted with Robert.”

His lips pressed together and he crossed his arms. “I cannot.”

She wanted to throw something at him. At Robert. At the whole blasted mess. “They will return. Whoever they are, they aren’t giving up. If Robert isn’t pretending, if he really doesn’t remember, he won’t be able to give them what they want.”

“You must leave, Lady Melrose.” Edwin’s face grew hard, unyielding. “Mr. Melrose wouldn’t want you involved. I will fix this.”

Without another word, Edwin turned and walked down the corridor.

He was right, she realized. She should leave. This had nothing to do with her. Whatever Robert had gotten into had nothing to do with her future.

She was boarding a ship, for heaven’s sake, in less than two weeks.

But what if he was truly ill?

What if he really had no memory of their dismal marriage?

No memory of Cordelia.

Equal parts dread and boundless curiosity filled her. Who would that man be had he not fallen in love with her sister first? Had he not set Cordelia upon an unreachable, untenable pedestal so that any woman who came after her would seem small in comparison?

The foundation of their marriage had been upon Cordelia’s lies, her rejection.

What would have happened if
Lily
had come first?

Foolish! Lily wanted to shake herself.

She was not that stupid to engage in useless what-ifs. No matter what fleeting injury Robert had, it would reverse itself. He hadn’t changed, wouldn’t change and there was nothing that would convince her he was even capable of it.

Zebras did not change their stripes.

Robert was not going to exchange his personality for a preferable one. So it was time for her to leave.

But the least she could do was say goodbye.

***

When she walked into the room, Robert lay still. At the rustle of her skirts, his eyelids slid open and he watched her approach. His face was clear, free of anything but simple curiosity.

“Are you my wife?” he asked, and a frown flashed in the dip of his brows. “I…I don’t remember.”

She stopped a few feet away. “So the doctor said.”

“My name is Robert.” He winced as if talking hurt, and she imagined it did. The area around his left eye was black and blue, swollen. “But I don’t know what to call you,” he said, interrupting her study of his injuries.

“Lily.” It popped out before she could stop herself. What would he do if she presented a life that wasn’t fact? Would he admit to his farce? Would he tell her to leave him in peace?

Something compelled her closer. She wanted to break him down, to get past his careful manipulation but a direct assault would never work. He was too smart for that.

She had to be smarter.

She reached out, grasped his hand in an unfamiliar gesture. She ignored the spark that shot up her arm. “Darling, I have been so worried about you.”

His eyes widened a bit, but no sign of irritation flashed.

Lily couldn’t say why it was so important for her to win this moment, but it was. She wanted him to admit he was lying, to admit he was playing her for a fool—playing everyone for a fool. She needed to crush the stupid glimmer of wonder, of want, of
hope
trying to break through the surface.

She laced her fingers with his. Her heart panged in her chest, as though in warning.
Danger ahead. Proceed with caution.

His gaze slid to their intertwined hands. His fingers tightened around hers. “The doctor told me we are married?”

Anger shot to the surface, but Lily shoved it down. She could play the game now, and then leave without a guilty conscience.

“Yes. Almost four years now.”

“A good marriage?” he questioned. “You did call me darling, so I assume we’re on good terms?”

She spread a closed-lip smile across her face, even though it felt tight on her skin. “The best of terms.”

“Do we…do we have children?”

Bastard
.

“How can you ask me that?” The question stabbed right to her core and tears sprung to her eyes. She slid her fingers from his and stood, walked to the window and pulled the drapes aside to let in slivers of overcast light.

Lily forced slow, deep breaths to quell the rage that threatened to burn her hollow.

“I don’t know
what
to ask about.” The plaintive tone tugged at her.

“You seem to have no problem finding questions.” She couldn’t do this. She didn’t care what happened to him. There was no need for the surprising swell of emotion his accident has caused. She hadn’t lost anything new.

She’d lost him already in so many different ways over the years of their marriage. His love. His respect. His admiration. His friendship. Then again, none of those things had been truly hers to begin with. So how could it hurt to lose things that were never yours?

She shook the thought off. Growing melancholy over a past that couldn’t change was pointless.

“What do you remember?” she asked, swiveling around. Time for woolgathering was over. She needed out of this house and
now
.

He frowned. “I try to recall a name, anything, and it isn’t there. Like it’s just out of reach.”

“Your family? Your brothers?”

His gaze shot to hers. “I have brothers?”

His surprise seemed so genuine, so real. “Yes, two brothers.”

“And my parents? Where are they?”