Do I have siblings?
Am I truly alone in this world?
A dark fear sat upon his heart then, and he hissed, ruthlessly fighting the sensation.Not alone, a small voice reminded him,you have a wife…a home…a place to rest, heal, and recover.
How do I not know my age or what kind of food I like?
Daniel thought so hard on this matter, he provoked thumping pain at the back of his skull. That was his first warning that the physician’s advice might be necessary to follow.
“Do not try and strain to remember. It will only agitate the pain in your head.”
“Try not to indulge in any strenuous activity.”
The man had said that with a flush about his face, and dark humor had washed through Daniel.
“Miss Heyford has assisted me greatly from time to time here. Her kind, compassionate attentions should speed your recovery.”
His lips quirked. What kind, compassionate nature? After escorting him to this chamber, she had turned and fled as if a devil chased her. Daniel had filed away her discomfort and the skittish way she appeared whenever he’d devilishly allowed his fingers to graze her skin or linger on her hips as she assisted him up the stairs.
The final advice had been,“I believe yourmemory will return with natural ease. Your only job is to heal and stay in a surrounding that is familiar.”
He turned his head on the lumpy pillow, peering through the small window to the overcast sky outside. There was nothing familiar about this room and the bed he had spent the last several hours sleeping in. While it was tidy, clean, and gave the appearance of being lovingly tended to, the room had no pretensions to fashion, and the furniture could not be worth more than a few shillings. The wallpaper was dingy and must have been at least twenty years old. The mattress and pillows could all do with replacing, and the patchwork quilt on the bed, while beautifully crafted, was not luxurious. Daniel also found it damn astonishing that this confining space would now be his bedchamber.
He sat up slowly, grateful the peculiar spinning sensation had fully abated.
Why can’t I remember anything?
He once again waited for a hidden part of him to answer, and when none came, he rose from the bed, padded over the basin on the washstand, and splashed his face with the cool water. The bar of soap provided smelled like lemon, and he used it with the washcloth to tidy his body, a peculiar feeling of being unmoored stabbing through his belly. Dropping the washrag, he used the dental powder someone had thoughtfully provided with the brush to complete his ablutions.
As he made his way over to the large armoire, he spied a set of clothes laid out on the small chaise by the windows, presumably by his Miss Heyford, for last night he had not seen a valet, footman, or a maid.
I am a man used to having servants.
Daniel glanced at the connecting door, which he suspected led to his wife’s bedchamber.
There went that odd kick inside his heart again.I have a wife. The notion of it felt bloody absurd, and he wondered about that instinctive awareness. Was he a man who had not believed in marriage or this nonsensical throe of love? Or was it simply that he did not think Miss Heyford could have been a right fit as a partner?
Why did I choose you? Was it because I was broke and she had…
Looking around the drabness of the room, he dismissed that thought. A broke man would marry an heiress, unless his reputation was so damn terrible no one would have him. Given her lack of connections and wealth, the only reason he would marry Miss Heyford was as she said, they had been caught in throes of wicked passion or he had irrevocably compromised her, and she might be with child.
Turning back to the clothes, Daniel frowned. They appeared outdated but of his size. Shoes that had seen better days had been polished and also set aside for him. A few minutes later, he was dressed in a white cambric shirt, dark trousers, a striped vest, and a neck cloth. Daniel scowled at his appearance, for while he seemed decently garbed, the overall presentation felt wrong. He looked for the clothes and boots he had taken off last night, but they were nowhere to be found.
Someone had indeed entered the chamber while he slept.
Was it you, Miss Heyford…and did you notice I was in the nude?
Thinking about her supposed stiff, moral rectitude, amusement washed through him. Leaving the bedroom, he walked along the empty hallway and down the stairs, noting the threadbare appearance of the home. Whomever tended it ensured it was clean, the interior smelling of lemon, beeswax, and fresh flowers, but it was in desperate need of… Hell, the place needed a serious injection of money.
But I am broke.
His gut tightened upon recalling that. He needed a swift understanding of his financial background, his family connections, and a conversation needed to be had with his wife without delay.
The house was far too quiet, but he searched the lower floors, first peeking into a music room that held an outdated pianoforte and a harp. The sofas needed to be upholstered, and the rug was so worn, he could see the unspooling of the intricate threading.
He ventured into another room, a small parlor that had a fire going on in the hearth but was once again empty. Daniel took his time exploring the manor, which revealed in its entirety six bedrooms upstairs, and on the main floor, a drawing room, a parlor, an office, a music room, a very small sewing room, a dining room, and a depleted library which also seemed to serve as a schoolroom. Each room was sparsely furnished, well-tended, clean, and empty.
The only place left for him to explore was the attic, which he decided to leave for the next day, and the kitchen below stairs. He ventured farther into the office, glancing down at the stack of papers on the large oak desk. Flicking through the pile, he recognized bills, several unpaid, and invitations to a few soirees. A sound had him glancing over his shoulder to see a rather large ginger-and-white cat veering close to corpulence staring at him from the doorway.
