A four? How long had his head been aching and he hadn’t told her? “Miles, why didn’t you say you were hurting?” she admonished.
He glanced at her sheepishly and slid his hand in hers. “I was having too much fun.”
“Stubborn fool.” She squeezed his hand.
“I’m encouraged to see the swelling has decreased dramatically. But the bruising is significant and I must caution you to rest as much as possible in order to fully recover. You said that you have no recollection of who you are?”
“I cannot remember anything.” Miles’s voice was sharp with frustration.
“What is your opinion Mr. Kent? Do people with amnesia regain their memories?” she asked.
“I can’t say for sure; some do and some never get it all back. Only time and rest will tell.” The doctor gave Miles a stern look. Then he gathered his coat and hat from a nearby chair. “I must go. Lord Hawksridge, don’t worry over much, perhaps your memory will come back when and if your brain has recovered from the trauma of the blow.”
“I will walk you out, Mr. Kent. Thank you for coming,” Mr. Marlow said.
When the two men had left the room, Susanna crossed her arms over chest with a huff. “Don’t worry,” she mimicked the doctor in a high-pitched voice. “After he just told you you may never get your memory back.Only time will tell…I could have told you that!”
“He was just being truthful.” Miles leaned back against the back of the settee and closed his eyes. His lashes looked impossibly dark against his pale skin.
“Miles, let’s go upstairs. You should follow the doctor’s orders and take a nap perhaps.”
“I’m not a child,” he muttered. But there was no heat in the statement.
She smiled. He was so adorably grumpy. She leaned down and tugged his arm. “Come on, my lord. Upstairs, right now.”
He stood with a glower. “Bossy.”
Susanna wrapped her arm around his waist and tucked herself under his arm. “What do you require to do as I ask?”
“You.” His eyes filled with heat. “Lay down with me for a bit?”
She patted the center of his chest. “All right. But no funny business. You will rest.”
He grumbled but began moving forward.
*
The next coupleof days went by in much the same manner. They shared breakfast and then a morning walk. In the afternoons she read to him from Mr. Marlow’s bookThe Isle of Skye. They had supper with their host in the evenings and she made sure that Miles got lots of rest. Even if that meant lying curled up next to him all night. That part she didn’t mind at all in fact. He confessed he didn’t like to sleep alone, his panic clawed at his chest as he lay in the dark. She was quickly becoming addicted to sleeping with her head tucked against his chest and his arm wrapped tightly around her.
On the fourth day it rained, a steady downpour that made for a dim gloomy day. Susanna suggested they play cards and the two men agreed. They played loo falling into easy banter and teasing each other when a trick was won or lost. Susanna slid a glance to their host. “Mr. Marlow, I can’t help but wonder if you ever think about reuniting with Lady Diana? Surely you must think about her on occasion?”
He gave her a wry smile. “You mean since you told me she was no longer married?”
“Well, yes.” Susanna sat forward. “Do you wonder what it would be like to see her again?”
Miles gave her foot a shove under the table. “Susanna, don’t meddle.”
“I’m not meddling. I am simply making conversation.”
Mr. Marlow interrupted. “Yes, I think about seeing her again. But I highly doubt she would want to see me. I was angry and hurt when we last spoke.” He sighed. “The memory of her tearstained face is forever ingrained in my memory. I know now that it was unfair of me to ask her to climb out that window and leave behind her whole life just to be with me. But my younger self only knew that I wanted her with an all-consuming passion.”
Susanna rested her chin on her hand. “Your letters certainly expressed that passion. They were beautiful.” Mr. Marlow’s cheeks flushed. Her and her blasted loose tongue. “Oh Mr. Marlow, I’m sorry. We didn’t know who the letters belonged to when we found them. And they were so very romantic.”
“It’s all right, my dear. I guess I never expected they would be lost and roaming through London’s bookshops.”
“Now, I feel as though I’m missing out not having read the letters,” Miles said. “Have I?”
Susanna shook her head. “You expressly told me that you did not want to think of your aunt ever having um, romantic liaisons with anyone.”
