Jemina’s amnesia was true. If Hope was right, the woman he married, the new Lady Ashbrook didn’t know.
“Talk to her, sir. Tell her everything you have swirling in that brilliant mind of yours.”
“Everything?”
“Yes. Everything. I think she’ll understand and be reassured.”
Is that what was missing? A way to reassure her that no matter who she was, or what she’d done, that Daniel loved her.
He drained his cup, every last bit as if it were his last. “Nothing matters but now. I’ve said that so many times. It’s about time for me to act like I believe it.”
“Excellent, sir.”
His housekeeper clinked her cup with his as if they’d made an agreement. Well, maybe they had. The woman knew him too well.
“I pray that the air is cleared soon. Lady Ashbrook loves that baby as much as you. Do what you have to do to keep your family.”
The family he somewhat created, the one thing he’d always wanted and coveted and promised himself. Why should something like the truth stand in his way?
It hadn’t before.
“Well, look at that, sir.”
“What, Mrs. Gallick?”
She waved him to the door of the nursery.
“They’re both asleep, sir.”
It was a sight. Jemina, so beautiful. The reddish braids of her chignon spilling down her shoulders. Hope with her thumb in her mouth nestled against his wife’s gray walking gown.
“I should do something. My Lady Ashbrook is wearying.”
“Sir, that one was meant to mother a child like Hope, one tortured by memories. She’s the right one. Don’t get confused. This is right.”
“Thank you. Good night, Mrs. G.”
She walked away, leaving Daniel to stare into the nursery. Hope and Jemina, the two of them, both pieces of his heart, both finally at ease.
Tempting fate, he picked up his beautiful little girl and set her in her crib. The doll, Mrs. Feebs, he put in the tot’s arms. “Mrs. Feebs, you keep Hope company tonight.”
Then he turned to Jemina.
Daniel didn’t lose trials often. When he did, he learned to accept what he knew and move forward. Trying to figure out what was right or more in the right was unfair. Jemina still had no memories to even counter a single suspicion.
In the end, this was his fault. He stopped looking for answers. He let his heart become tender to both Jemina and Phoebe. One in the same, or not, it didn’t matter. This was the family he created, the one he’d defend, the one he’d never give up.
As gently as he could, he lifted Jemina.
Her cheeks seemed thin. The woman was worn out.
“I let go. I can’t.” She put her arms about his shoulder, clutching him like her life depended upon holding him. This was her nightmare.
He kissed her brow. “You’re safe. So is our Hope.”
Daniel sat in the rocking chair and held his Lady Ashbrook. That’s who she was right now. They’d stay in the nursery. If Jemina fully awakened, she wouldn’t be startled searching for his . . . her . . . their daughter. “Siphon some of my strength, my love. Nothing else matters.”
Hope snorted but did not cry.
