“Shall I watch the children until you are finished with her?”
“If you will, I shall appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
“Very well.”
He hurried into his study, closed the door, and poured himself a drink. As he paced the floor, he shrugged out of his overcoat, content to wear just his waistcoat over his shirt. A small fire had already been burning in the hearth, which warmed the room considerably. Nice and cozy. Just the way he liked it.
It took about ten minutes, but soon a knock came upon the door. “Come in.”
The door opened, and Louisa entered. Her sad expression tugged at his heart. He’d do anything to make her happy again.
“You wanted to see me, Your Grace?”
“Yes. Please close the door.”
She did as instructed, then walked closer. “Have I done something that displeases you?”
“Indeed you have, Louisa.” Slowly, he stepped toward her, stopping mere inches in front. “You didn’t say my name.” He smiled.
She returned a smile, but it seemed as if she struggled to make her lips curve upward. Her eyes didn’t twinkle like they used to, either. “Forgive me, Trevor. I have been out of sorts of late.”
He cupped her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing circles on her arms. “I realize this, Louisa. You have been distant ever since the circus. Please, let me help you.”
“If only you could.”
“Mrs. Smythe tells me you went to the place where I hit you to see if your memory would return.”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“I’m assuming by your silence that your memory has not returned.”
Tears glistened in her eyes as she pulled away from him and moved to the hearth. “Oh, Trevor. Sometimes I feel as if I will never get my life back.”
Her body trembled slightly, so he stepped behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. “You don’t need your life back, my dear. You have a new life here.”
She stroked his arms and laid the back of her head against his chest. “I know I do, I just wish…” She breathed deeply, then released it in a gush.
“Louisa, these past couple of days I have discovered some things about your past.”
Her body stiffened. “What have you discovered?”
“Your family might be alive,” he whispered in her ear.
She turned in his arms and faced him. He kept his arms around her waist, not wanting her to leave.
“Are you certain?” she asked.
He nodded. “I met a boy who had worked with you under Macgregor’s control. I discovered this boy was told his family died in a house fire. The next day I met another boy who was about to be sold to Macgregor, and his story mirrored the other. Because of the coincidence, I decided to find out what really happened. I found each boy’s family—alive.”
“But how is all this related to my situation?”
Trevor sighed heavily and sat on the edge of his desk, pulling her in a more intimate position toward him. “Each boy talked about a man who’d told them about their family’s death. Mr. Percy Featherspoon.”
He waited for any kind of recognition—a memory to emerge or anything. Her face remained blank. “This name doesn’t sound familiar to you at all?”
She shrugged.
“Please, Louisa. Try to remember. This is vital to my discovery.”
