His stomach growled loudly. “I guess I am hungry.” He offered her a smile before accepting the roll. Taking a bite, he stared at her trying to see if her features might spark some recognition. Her porcelain complexion was mottled red, especially around her eyes which were quite puffy. “You look as though you’ve been crying.”
She turned away, crossed the room, grabbed a ladder-back chair, and pulled it to the side of the bed. “That is because I have. Not that you should be pointing it out. A gentlemen wouldn’t comment on a lady’s distress.”
“I’m sorry,” he replied automatically.
Susanna sighed. “I’ve always cursed my fair complexion. Some girls can cry delicately into their handkerchiefs, but I always look like a blotchy mess and it takes forever for my skin to calm down.”
“I think you look beautiful. Even with a splotchy face.” It was true.
While she had been downstairs, he’d lain with his eyes closed trying his best to piece together any memories. But his mind felt like a blank slate and he with no chalk to draw any pictures. As the panic had risen, he’d focused on Susanna’s face. The beautiful honey color of her eyes encircled by a dark brown rim. The straight slope of her delicate nose. The perfect symmetry of her eyebrows, her cheekbones. Somehow it had soothed something in him and he had been able to breathe calmly again.
“Well, thank you, I guess.” She speared a piece of ham on a fork and handed it to him. “Keep eating.”
He complied because actually he was quite famished. “How long was I unconscious?”
“A little over twenty-four hours.”
“I’m sorry that I worried you. I do remember someone examining my head, and muffled voices from time to time. But the pain always pushed me back to unconsciousness.”
Susanna sat forward, her eyes anxious, her bottom lip trembled. “No, I am sorry. It’s all my fault. You would have never gotten hurt if it hadn’t been for me.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened.” He handed her back the fork. He highly doubted any of it was her fault unless she had knocked him upside the head with a shovel. “Was it a lover’s spat? Did you throw something at my head?”
Susanna let out a choked laugh. “No, not at all. Although you do drive me mad sometimes. You are very bossy.” She handed him another roll and a mug which turned out to be tea.
He sipped, and tasting bergamot, he knew it was Earl Grey. He frowned down at the mug. Why could he remember the type of tea but not his own name?
Susanna continued. “We were traveling in a rented chaise and were attacked by highwaymen. You were hit in the head by the butt of a pistol. Possibly twice. You were trying to protect me.”
“That’s hardly your fault. Of course, I would protect my wife.” He frowned at his assumption. Although she had been sleeping next to him, he felt foolish for having to ask. “Are you my wife?”
Her mouth opened then closed. Then she nodded. “But I am the reason we were traveling here in the first place. You thought it was an ill-advised adventure. You could be visiting with your brother and his family as you planned.” Her gaze was fixed on her lap and her bottom lip trembled again.
The need to soothe her was bone deep. This woman obviously meant a great deal to him. “Wait, I have a brother?”
Her gaze snapped up to meet his. “Yes, a twin brother, Daniel. He is married to my bosom friend, Charlotte.”
A twin brother.“You’d think I could remember someone I shared the womb with. Bloody hell.” He shut his eyes against the pity he saw in hers. What the hell was he going to do with himself if he couldn’t remember a damn thing about his life?
A soft hand lay on top of his. “Mr. Marlow said that amnesia as a result of a head injury was something he often saw when he was in the military, and that it is usually temporary. I believe that your memory will return as you heal.”
He opened his eyes not bothering to hide his anguish. “Do you really think so? Or are you one of those annoying optimistic people?”
“I really do.” She hitched her skirts and climbed onto the bed next to him. Taking both her hands she gently cupped his cheeks. “Oh Miles, I’m so glad you’re not dead. We’ll figure all the rest out.” Then she kissed him gently before sliding down to lay her head on his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. The need to connect with someone was overwhelming. Susanna fit herself against him and hugged him back. He may not remember her face but the rightness of holding her in his arms gave him comfort. He closed his eyes and buried his nose in her hair. The light scent of freesia and roses felt familiar and that sense of familiar was a balm to his fear that he would never regain his memory. Perhaps she was right, he just needed to heal. He sighed deeply and let his full stomach and her warm embrace lull him to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Susanna blinked asshe woke up. Her head jostled against something warm and hard and it took her several moments to realize she was still laying half on top of Miles. She lifted her head to find that he was awake and trying to disentangle himself from her.
“Sorry, I was trying not to wake you. I desperately need to use the chamber pot.”
She sat up with a start. Her hair was coming out from its pins and she was still fully dressed. She glanced at the window, shocked to find that the soft light of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains. They had slept all night! She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept so many hours, and in a deep dreamless sleep at that. She scooted off the bed. “Here, be careful. Sit up first and see how your head is feeling.”
Miles swung his long legs off the side of the bed. “All right, I think. It is just a dull throb this morning.” He stood slowly.
She watched him carefully. He didn’t sway on his feet; he didn’t wince or grit his teeth in pain. “I’ll wait outside the door in case you need me.”
