She'd saved him in so many ways. It didn't matter how it came to be, or how he came to be the one rescuing her, all he cared about was that they were here now. She was safe. And now they could go home.
He lay back, looking up at the roof.
Home.
He had a home and family, and he had a woman he loved. Even if his memory never returned and he had to learn some things all over again, he already felt complete.
The hole in his memory was mostly filled just by her. Everything else could slow down and take its time returning, as long as he had her.
That was what love was, and he couldn't wait a moment longer to make it official. But first he needed to return her to her family and convince her that no matter what happened, he would spend the rest of his life loving her. How could these feelings be a mistake?
They drove every breath in his lungs. The very beating of his heart.
This would never go away.
What did he have to do to show her, to make her feel as confident as he did?
He forced himself to leave the bed, and the cozy nest they had made together. He splashed water on his face, and in the clouded mirror, he examined his wound. Wesley stared at his reflection. He didn't look like a stranger. He didn't feel like he was seeing himself for the first time. This had to be a good sign. He wasn't surprised by his brown hair, his eyes, the small cleft in his chin. The face of a man popped into his mind that looked just like him but older. He shook himself free of it. How strange. Was he picturing himself older? He pushed the thought away and dressed.
When Willa still hadn't stirred, he gently woke her by kissing her brow. She opened her eyes. The smoky quartz pools shimmered in the morning light, clouded by sleep.
“What time is it,” she asked.
“A quarter before seven. We have to get dressed and grab something to eat to catch the stage,” he said.
Her brow furrowed. “Are you sure you want to do this so soon?”
“I'm sure there's nothing left for us here. Willa, we have to go back and face your family and my family.”
She nodded solemnly.
“Hurry and dress. We don't have a moment to lose.”
Down in the taproom, Wesley had no issue pretending to be a doting spouse. They requested a quick breakfast, drank a cup of tea each, and accepted extra muffins for the road.
Mrs. Davies and Willa hugged goodbye. Wesley thank the innkeeper and his wife for all their help, care, and concern. They still called him Lord Knightly, and he didn't have the heart to inform them otherwise. He didn't want to begin his marriage to Willa with a scandal. He wanted to marry her properly, in a church with their families present, not because of rumors but because they were in love.
The carriage arrived promptly at eight, the ostlers switching horses with miraculous speed. He escorted Willa to the coach and paid the driver.
The driver frowned at his bandage. “You good to travel, my lord?
Wesley grinned. “I promise to see the surgeon as soon as we get home, but please, try not to hit every rut in the road.”
“I will do my best.”
He handed Willa in, and they took seats closest to the door, so they could be the first to exit at each stop. Wesley’s palms were sweaty as the driver cracked the reins and the carriage began to move. Children ran along the side of the coach, shouting and cheering as they left the inn yard and joined the main thoroughfare. Smaller carriages and carts moved out of the way.
“Are you all right?” Willa asked him.
“I'm fine.” Though his head felt like it was knocking around billiard balls inside his skull. “What about you?” Wesley asked. Last time she was on the stage, she was kidnapped by highwaymen.
“It's a little nerve-racking,” she admitted.
“We should be home tomorrow evening. I heard the coachman say they've been making good time. The roads are clear, and it hasn't rained in days.
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
He tucked her hand in his. They didn't speak much the remainder of the journey. As the hours wore on, Wesley's head began to ache, then throb, and then pound with the force of a blacksmith's hammer. As early evening set in, the driver asked the patrons if they’d like to push on another ten miles, ensuring they would reach London tomorrow evening. Wesley quickly agreed.
