“Of course.”
As Hobbs escorted the doctor down the stairs, Trevor turned back toward the bed, his gaze settling on the woman lying still as death, though her chest rose and fell with steady, gentle breaths. The doctor had suggested she stay at the manor to recover, but Trevor couldn’t help but wonder if her fate would be any better under his roof. After all, he seemed cursed when it came to women—they always seemed to die in his presence.
The thought gnawed at him. If this woman didn’t pull through, it would be yet another cruel reminder of the tragedythat seemed to follow him. He could almost feel the weight of it bearing down on him, that inescapable belief that his very presence brought death. Gwendolyn’s passing still haunted him, even if the truth was far more complicated than he allowed himself to admit.
It was simple—he had killed his wife, even if not by his own hand. And if this young woman didn’t survive, it would only confirm what he feared most: that his fate was sealed, cursed to bring death to those who came too close.
Chapter Three
Pain pulsed inLouisa’s head with every beat of her heart, radiating through her entire body as if she’d been crushed beneath a heavy weight. Even her eyelids ached as she struggled to open them. When she finally managed a squint, confusion set in. Had she died and gone to Heaven? Why else would she be in such a luxurious room, dressed in warm, clean nightclothes and nestled between soft sheets on a bed that felt like a cloud? The scents surrounding her were foreign—everything smelled too clean, too fresh.
A low moan escaped her lips as she closed her eyes again—the simple act of breathing sending sharp stabs of pain through her chest. What had happened to her? Her mind was a fog, offering no answers, only a heavy emptiness where memories should have been.
Suddenly, a soft, soothing voice broke through the haze, accompanied by a gentle touch on her fingers. The kindness of the moment lulled her into a brief, peaceful sleep, but she was soon stirred awake by a new sensation—a tantalizing scent wafting through the room.Food.
Her stomach growled hungrily, the smell of fresh bread teasing her senses, reminding her just how long it had been since she’d last eaten anything at all. “Come now, dearie. Open your eyes,” the kind voice prompted her.
Louisa blinked and slowly opened her eyes. The room wasn’t as bright as it had been earlier, thank goodness. The older woman leaning over her wore a servant’s black-and-white attire, with a white mobcap covering her brown hair.
“Let’s sit you up, shall we?” The servant helped to adjust Louisa by stuffing pillows behind her.
Louisa clenched her teeth, trying to suppress the wave of sharp pain that surged through her with each movement. But once the pillows were adjusted beneath her, offering much-needed support, the intensity of the pain eased just enough for her to take a shallow breath. As her body relaxed slightly, she glanced down at her arms, momentarily transfixed. The delicate sleeves that covered them were pristine—whiter than anything she had worn in years—and adorned with intricate lace embroidery that seemed far too beautiful for her reality.
This has to be a dream.Her mind struggled to accept what her eyes were seeing. It couldn’t be real. How could she, a ragged, starving girl, be swathed in something so fine, so elegant?
“How are you feeling, dearie?” the older woman asked, amber eyes narrowing with worry.
“I—I—” Louisa cleared her dry throat a couple of times before the servant brought up a cup of tea for her to sip. She closed her eyes and savored the taste.Wonderful.
When the servant took the cup away and set it on the stand next to the bed, Louisa cleared her throat again. “I ache all over.”
“That’s to be expected from the dreadful accident, or so the doctor explained.”
Louisa’s head throbbed harder. What accident? She didn’t remember any accident. “I do not understand, ma’am. What accident are you referring to?”
“Why, the accident you had last night when His Grace hit you with his horse and curricle.”
Fright surged through Louisa, tightening her chest and making her head throb with unbearable intensity. Why couldn’t she remember?
Panic clawed at her insides as she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her fingers to her aching forehead. Try as she might, she couldn’t recall being struck by a horse and carriage—or anything else, for that matter. Her mind was a void, terrifying in its emptiness. Who was she? The weight of that question was crushing.
Her gaze drifted toward the unfamiliar woman standing beside the bed. Desperation took hold as Louisa raised her cold, trembling hands to cup her own cheeks, as if trying to ground herself in the present, trying to find something real. Tears brimmed in her eyes, blurring her vision, while a thick knot of emotion swelled in her throat.
Her voice, broken and raw, finally escaped. “I—I—I don’t remember,” she whispered, her voice quivering as the enormity of her fear settled over her like a suffocating blanket. The sense of loss—of not knowing who she was—was more than she could bear.
“Hush, dearie.” The servant sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Louisa’s hair. “The doctor mentioned you would be disoriented a bit when you awoke. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Louisa shook her head. “You don’t understand. I cannot rememberanything.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I’ve no memory of what I did last evening, or before that, or the day before that.” Her voice rose in panic.
“Shh… Not to fret, my dear. Calm yourself, and I’m certain your memory will return.”
Louisa lowered her hands to her lap. “Do you truly believe so?”
The servant nodded. “Yes, I’m certain. My name is Mrs. Smythe. I’m the housekeeper here at Kenbridge Hall. I shall take care of you until you are better.”
Louisa nodded, trying to take the woman’s advice and calm her fears. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Smythe. My name is Louisa…” Her memory stopped. Once again, fear flared inside her, bringing a state of panic with it. “Oh, no. I—I do not even recall my name!”
“Good heavens, child.” Mrs. Smythe took Louisa’s hands. “You do not remember your own name?”
