It isn’t a real marriage.
He cleared his throat, doing his best to chase the image of conjugal relations with Lady Tabetha Fitzwilliam,rigorous or not, out of his head.
“I appreciate your advice.” Although part of him wondered precisely how much of a quack this Dr. Finch was.
Stone widened his stance and extended his hand, paying the man without ceremony. If she didn’t regain her memory quickly, they’d have to set out for London sooner than he’d planned. No doubt he and Tabetha would meet up with Westerley. Her brother had to have realized by now that this was where Culpepper had headed with her.
And as her brother, he’d provide some of the familiarity Finch recommended. The earl could take his sister to Westerley Crossings if necessary.
Stone hoped it wasn’t necessary.
The trouble with that particular plan was that it failed to take into consideration Tabetha and his marriage.
It had been impulsive. Reckless. Madcap. Stupid of him to allow her to drink. It had been even more stupid that he’d gotten so drunk. What was it about Tabetha Fitzwilliam that turned his brain to mud?
First, he was kidnapping a cat, then he was acting as her lady’s maid, and next, he’d rushed her off to the altar.
He punched a fist into his opposite hand at the same time Mrs. Hettrick emerged from the room.
“She’s resting now. Don’t hesitate to send for me if she has need of anything.”
“My thanks.” Stone nodded. “Please thank your husband for bring the Doctor so swiftly.”
“Close to a doctor as we have in these parts.” She nodded. “And we don’t mind at all.”
Stone murmured something as Mrs. Hettrick shuffled away, staring at the closed door of room number five.
They would have the marriage annulled. Once she was safe. It was insane that they hadn’t considered the repercussions of what they were doing when they’d decided on such a brash course of action.
He needed to think, and he needed to do so without the influence of the impulsive blonde debutante in his care. Stone quietly reentered the room, sliding the locks into place as he did so. If he was lucky, she would be sleeping, and he could consider the pros and cons of his options.
“What did he say?” Tabetha’s voice disabused him of any such notions. “Tell me the truth.”
Even without her memory or knowing her own name, she was still the same; feisty, demanding.
Vulnerable.
Seeing some color in her cheeks, he had to acknowledge that for once, he wasn’t annoyed by her relentlessness. She was a fighter, and all his life, he’d respected the fighter’s spirit.
“He advises that I should take you home. He says it’s best for you to heal in familiar surroundings.” He lowered himself onto the bed beside her, cringing at the sight of blood crusted in some of her silky golden locks
“In case I don’t remember.”
He didn’t want to lie to her. Not any more than he already was.
“Yes.”
Her big brown eyes held him captive, looking helpless now and innocent. And more trusting than they ever had before.
“I’m scared.” Her admission was not like her at all. “But at least I’m not alone. Even though I don’t remember you, and I don’t know anything about you other than the fact that you are my husband, your eyes are familiar.” Her gaze dropped to where her fingers clutched at the bedclothes. “Would you… hold me?”
Chapter 10
Husband
Tabetha shivered, overwhelmed that this rough-looking individual was herhusband. And yet she had no doubt he cared for her. She’d seen the concern in his eyes the moment she’d woken up. And his presence comforted her. He made her feel safe.
“Hold you?” His eyes widened at her request but he only hesitated an instant before raising his feet to the bed and lying beside her. “This will make you feel better?”
