“Not well, no.”
“Ah. My mistake.”
He regarded her with a strange glint in his soft green eyes, the color of pale moss. The corner of his mouth quirked in a knowing grin that seemed to say, “You have passed another test, but it shan’t be the last.” The grin emphasized the deep brackets on either side of his mouth. Not dimples, but long grooves, masculine and appealing.
Stop it, Hannah, she reprimanded herself. Attractive though he was, she could not trust this man. Heaven help her if she began to admire him.
Hannah was massaging Sir John’s calf muscle with one hand as Dr. Parrish had instructed when the physician came in to pay his daily call.
“Ah, how diligent you are, my lady. Well done. It will help him, you will see.”
She looked up to acknowledge his encouragement and froze. Sir John’s eyes were open. He was staring at her. And not with the vacant look they had seen before. He was lookingat her.
“Well, well!” beamed Dr. Parrish. “Look who has returned to us at last! Thank the Lord and pass the glass! Good day, Sir John.”
The patient’s gaze slowly slid toward the physician, then returned to her.
Immediately self-conscious, she began lowering the bedclothes over his exposed leg. “He must wonder what I am doing. How strange to wake up and find someone rubbing his leg.”
“Oh, I don’t think any man would object to that!” The good doctor winked at Sir John. “Would he, sir?”
There was no change in Sir John’s expression.
“Ah! I forget you don’t know me. You may not remember meeting me earlier, but I feel as though I’ve come to know you quite well. I am George Parrish, your physician and neighbor. My son Edgar showed you about the place when you first visited.”
The barest flicker of comprehension shone in Sir John’s eyes before returning to Hannah.
The doctor gestured toward her and smiled. “And you know this lovely creature, of course.”
When his patient failed to respond with word, smile, or even nod, the doctor asked him to follow his finger, to blink one for yes and two for no, and squeeze his hand.
“Now, there’s no rush, Sir John. You speak whenever you’re ready. No hurry. You are healing nicely and no doubt will be your old self soon.” The doctor brightened. “I know! Perhaps you would like this dear lady to read to you. She has a fine reading voice. In fact, I heard her reading to Master Daniel only last evening.” He turned to her. “Has Sir John a favorite book?”
Hannah hesitated. “I ... shall find something.”
“I think reading to him for an hour or so each day an excellentidea. Stimulate his brain. Help him rediscover words again, which seem to have left him.”
Hannah began that very afternoon. She’d been pleased to find the first volume ofThe History of Sir Charles Grandisonamong his salvaged things. Her own copy was lost forever, along with her valise.
She sat in the armchair near his bed and began reading. Sir John opened his eyes and watched her as she did so. His bruising and swelling continued to fade, and his marled brown-and-silver beard continued to thicken.
Half an hour or so later, Mrs. Turrill knocked and entered with a tea tray. “Shall you have your tea here with Sir John, my lady? Ah! He is awake, bless my soul, he is.”
“Sir John, this is Mrs. Turrill, our housekeeper.”
Mrs. Turrill dipped her head and smiled. “What a happy day this is. Well, I shall leave you. Anything else you need, my lady, you just ring, all right?”
The phrase, “my lady,” which she had begun to grow accustomed to, sounded like a trumpet blast in Sir John’s presence. She winced.
“Thank you, Mrs. Turrill.”
The housekeeper left, closing the door behind her.
For a moment, Hannah kept her gaze on the closed door, all the while feeling Sir John’s scrutiny on her profile. Slowly, resignedly, she turned. Damp hands clasped in her lap, she faced her begrudging employer, her former mistress’s husband, her first infatuation, although he’d never known it. His expression remained inscrutable.
She sighed and quietly began, “When they found us alone together in the carriage after the accident, they assumed I was Lady Mayfield. At first I was insensible, as you have been. And when I regained my senses and realized ... well, I should have corrected them, but I did not. I have a child to think of. Andwith my arm broken, there were few or no posts I would be suited for. I felt I had no choice but to remain here. With Lady Mayfield gone, who was I to be companion to? I would have no employment, no place to sleep, and no way to provide for my son or myself. So I allowed the misapprehension to continue. It was wrong of me, I know. I plan to leave as soon as my arm is sufficiently healed and I might find work somewhere. In the meantime, I hope you will forgive me.”
His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed, but whether his expression spoke of anger, or confusion, or deep thought, she was not certain. Did he even remember her?
