The Kents and their spouses had all paid visits to offer support. As had the Duke of Ranelagh and Somerville and Maggie Foley, Glory’s grateful parents. Given her frazzled state, Gabby hadn’t entertained the well-wishers for long, but they’d been kind and understanding, offering to help in any way they could. As grateful as Gabby was to have true friends, she’d never been good at asking for help. Moreover, Adam was a man who valued privacy, and the few times she’d confided her domestic concerns to others, she’d experienced a niggling sense of unease, as if she were betraying him.
She knew that things were different this time. She couldn’t handle this situation alone.
“I have friends who would help me,” she said.
“Then do not hesitate to call upon them. Or me.” The doctor rose.
“Thank you.” Recalling her churlish thoughts earlier, she added, “You’ve been a blessing during this difficult time. Truly, sir.”
He bowed then surprised her by taking her hand between both of his. His grip was strong, lightly callused. “Have a proper meal, Mrs. Garrity, and a nap afterward. Doctor’s orders.”
She managed a smile. “I shall try.”
“Do more than try, ma’am,” he advised. “You have a long battle ahead, and you’ll need all the strength you can muster.”
13
Adam came awake,and the first thing he noticed was the absence of fog: his head was as clear as a newly washed window. He saw the green pleats of the canopy, registering that he was in that strange, lavish bedchamber again. Not a dream, then? He turned his head on the pillow: there she was, the red-haired Venus, dozing in a chair beside the bed.
No…not Venus.
She’d claimed that she was hiswife.
He sat up slowly, discovering the pains were still there, though duller and less insistent. Propping himself up against the pillows, he just looked at her. Her long auburn lashes quivered against her creamy cheeks, her generous bosom rising and falling, the ruffles on her pink dressing gown stirring like leaves in a breeze. Her hair was a sleek waterfall of fire.
She wasn’t part of some fever-dream. This fancy place wasn’t either.
Why can’t I remember anything?
Searching his mind for memories was like running through a dark, winding alleyway. No light to guide him, nothing to find, crashing into wall after wall. Frustration built as did the ache in his head.Who am I? How did I get here?As he tried to remember, the pounding increased at his injured temple, spreading to the back of his skull. An agonizing haze began to descend.
He needed something for the pain. Couldn’t afford to lose his senses again.
A word flickered in the misty recesses of his mind.
The goddess: she’d given him her name.
“Gabriella,” he said hoarsely.
Her eyes flew open, as if she’d only been floating on the surface of sleep. Her pure blue gaze focused on him, widening, and she rose in a flurry of pink, hastening to his side.
“Adam, you’re awake,” she said tremulously. “How are you feeling?”
Adam…is that my name? Why don’t I remember it? Why don’t I remember you?
He stared at her, uncertain how to answer.
“I…I’d like water,” he said at length.
“Of course. You must be ever so parched.” As if his wish were her command, she spun around, heading to the half-moon console that held a pitcher and array of glasses, chattering all the while. “It’s been nearly two days since you lost consciousness…the second time, I mean. You were feverish for three days prior to that. I tried to give you water with a spoon, but most of it dribbled out. I was ever so worried, but the physician said your body needed the sleep to heal.” She came back with a full glass, her smile so dazzling that he had to blink. “Here, let me help you with this.”
She placed the glass at his lips, and he drank greedily. The cool citrus-infused beverage slid over his dry membranes, soothing the ache.
“Not too fast, my darling.” She slowed the flow of liquid. “You must take things slowly at the beginning. Dr. Abernathy’s orders.”
“Who’s Dr. Abernathy?” he asked.
Twin lines appeared at the inner edges of her brows. “You don’t remember him?”
