“I have some important information.”
Smith made note of the page he was on and set the book aside. “Yes?”
“I believe I know your identity.”
A flutter went through Smith. He sat up a little taller, waiting to hear.
“That is, I discovered today that a certain gentleman went missing a week ago, and the family’s coat of arms does indeed include lions and boars. I brought a friend home with me. That is, he is not my friend but a friend of this missing man, and I believe will be able to confirm my identification. But I wanted to warn you before I brought him in.”
“Will you not tell me my name?” He was desperate to hear it.
“Lord Waring, please come in,” said Adele instead.
The man who entered had dark hair and eyes and impeccable dress. Smith thought him familiar. The man clasped a hand over his mouth. “Hugh.”
Hugh. Yes. That was his name. And this man was… “Lark.” Hugh stood. The name had just popped into his head. “I recognize you.”
“Yes, my good man. Lady Adele tells me you have lost your memories.”
“Yes, I am afraid I cannot recall my surname. Or yours. But I know you are Lark and we are friends.”
“Yes. I am Larkin Woodville, Lord Waring, heir to the Duke of Beaufort. And you.” Lark pointed at Hugh. “You are Hugh Baxter, the Duke of Swynford.”
“Swynford,” Hugh whispered. TheSon the signet ring had stood for Swynford.
“How are you feeling?” Lark asked.
“Confused much of the time. Lady Adele and the staff here in the Sweeney house have been taking good care of me, and my head does not pound the way it did a few days ago, but it is enormously frustrating not to remember things. It’s like everything in my mind is separated from me by thick curtain. If I could just pull the curtain aside, I could remember everything, but I haven’t managed that yet.” Hugh sighed and sat back in his chair. “Instead I get little flashes of memory, but nothing like a complete picture.”
Adele gestured toward the other chairs in the room. Lark took one across from Hugh. Hugh studied him for a moment. “Do I call you Lark?”
“Yes, usually. Sometimes Waring if we are at our club and other gentlemen are about.”
“We have known each other a long time.”
“Since we were boys. Our mothers are dear friends.”
Hugh had a flash of running through a garden with a dark-haired boy at his side. Something told him he could trust Lark. “Where do I live?”
“On Upper Brook Street near Grosvenor Square. In one of the finest houses in Mayfair.”
“Who is there now?”
“Your mother, for certain. The dozen servants you keep there.”
“I cannot go home yet,” Hugh said.
Lark glanced toward Lady Adele, whose face displayed a befuddled expression.
“I would not think of keeping you from your family,” said Adele.
“It’s not that. I just need more time to prepare myself to see my mother. Am I correct that she is quite overbearing?”
“She can be,” said Lark. “She is also quite worried about you. I should like to put her mind at ease.”
Hugh found himself in a bit of a conundrum. Something told him that once he left Adele’s house, that would be it for them, and he was not ready for it to be good-bye yet. His lips tingled when he thought about kissing her. But he did not want his mother to worry, either.
“You may be right, though,” said Lark. “I had tried to postpone letting it be known that you disappeared as long as I could, but as we had no clues as to what had happened to you, I spoke to a writer I know and we ran a story in the paper. My intention had been for you to pop out of the woodwork and announce your presence, or to coax someone who knew who you were out of hiding, but instead, of course the story has ripped through thetonlike wildfire. Should it become known that you have returned, you’d be beset by callers at all times of day, and I imagine that would be unbearable to you at this point.”
