Loving a Lost Lord (18 page)

In the three days before their party left for London, Mariah barely saw Adam. He was frequently busy with his friends, while she spent most of her time at Julia's as they worked on their wardrobes. It was more restful to be with her friend than with Adam.

They saw each other long enough to exchange messages: Yes, Julia was willing to accompany Mariah. Yes, Kirkland had hired two post chaises in Carlisle, and they would collect everyone on Tuesday morning. No, there would be no problems with Cochrane running the estate while Mariah was gone, and he knew to write her at Ashton House while she was away if anything vital required her attention. The steward had been most impressed at learning she was to be the guest of a duke.

She presumed that Adam would have told her if there had been any breakthroughs on the memory front, but he said nothing. Though his friends were teaching him about his life, so far that had triggered no flood of recollections.

She spent her last evening in the library, which she used as an office and workroom. She was sewing trim on a sleeve when a light knock sounded on the door. Adam entered looking calm and reserved, and damnably handsome.

“Sorry to interrupt you.” He stood in the doorway as if wary of getting too close. “I wanted to check that all was in order for leaving in the morning. Is there anything you would like me to do?”

“No, I'm ready as soon as this gown is finished and packed. Julia is also prepared. She's quite looking forward to the trip.” Mariah knotted a thread and bit it off.

“Good.” He rubbed at his head. His hair was long enough to cover the healing scar, but the wound obviously still bothered him. “I never even asked you if you were willing to come with me to London. I wanted you there so I wouldn't feel so alone. But if you'd rather not make the trip, it's not too late to change your mind.”

He'd left this very late indeed. She threaded her needle again. “No matter what happens between us, I do want to go to London. I need to talk to my lawyer, Mr. Granger, and learn why he hasn't answered my queries. Perhaps he has no more information about my father's death, but I should have heard about my inheritance.”

“Of course. Perhaps I can be of aid there. It sounds like the sort of situation where being a duke might help.” Adam shifted from one foot to the other, restless but obviously not ready to leave. Desire radiated off him in waves. And God help her, she felt desire, too.

There was a reason why unmarried males and females were kept apart. With only two of them here, impious thoughts were all too easy. She wondered how he would react if she crossed the room, wrapped herself around his lean, muscular body, and kissed him.

Her guess was that he would forget all his doubts and take her right on the carpeted library floor with her full cooperation. She closed her eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by sensual memories of when they had made love.

No!

Reminded of the news she must tell him, she said, “You may rest easy on at least one score. I found out today that I am not with child.”

“Thank God,” he breathed, his expression relieved.

How glad he was to be free of her. She jabbed her needle into her hem with such force that she stabbed her finger. “There is really no need to take me to London. Your friends will look out for you, and by this time you know them well that you won't feel alone. I will travel to London on my own.”

“Nonsense. You'll be much safer in our group. More comfortable, too.” He gave her a wry smile that melted her irritation. “And I really would like to have you close. At the least, I owe you some hospitality, and at the most…a good deal more.”

“Very well. I'll save a good deal of money by traveling with you.”

“I hate being dependent on my friends. First you, and now the others. Kirkland is paying for the post chaises, and Randall and Masterson are discussing how to split lodging and food. I intend to pay everyone back, but at the moment, I don't even have the clothes on my back.”

“I have the impression that you've done much for your friends in the past, and they are very happy to help you now.” She took another minute stitch. “Accepting graciously will be good for your soul.”

He grinned, more relaxed. “Excellent advice. I'll do my best.”

She took another stitch. “Do you wish us to maintain the illusion of betrothal?”

“Yes.” He sighed. “Please be patient with me, Mariah. I haven't stopped caring for you. Not even a little bit. But—I need to understand the life I will be inhabiting before I know what I can change and what I must accept.”

She wondered if any of his friends would be as willing to admit vulnerability. Masterson possibly. Kirkland…she wasn't sure. Randall would probably rather be torn apart by wild horses than admit weakness. “You're right to proceed cautiously. I try to imagine what it would be like to deal with all that has been thrown at you, but I can only guess.” She smiled at him. “You're doing admirably, you know.”

His brows arched. “I feel clumsy and incompetent. I'm glad you don't think so.”

Mariah rested her hands on the fabric in her lap. “Loss of memory is as much a gift as it is a disaster. You have the opportunity to be the person you are meant to be, without the constraints of how you were raised or what other people expect of you. Do your friends find you different from before?”

“Masterson made such a comment today,” Adam said with surprise. “He said that I seemed somewhat less reserved. Less…less dukely.”

“Probably not a bad thing, given that dukeliness was forced on you at such a young age.” Her brows furrowed. “I wonder what I would have thought of you if we'd met before your accident? I have had little to do with the beau monde. I probably would have found you too grand to speak to. Now you're very approachable.”

He laughed. “Approachable is all very well, but like most men, I would prefer to have a beautiful woman think of me as dashing or handsome or intriguing.”

“All of those as well,” she said softly.

His hand locked on the doorknob as their gazes caught. Dear heaven, she wanted to go to him! He said tautly, “I will leave now before we do something we'll both regret.” He pivoted into the hall and shut the door behind him, hard.

Mariah bit the knuckles of her right hand from sheer, raging frustration. In a few minutes of talk, her blood had been raised to boiling point. A real lady wouldn't feel such…such
lust!
Sarah wouldn't. Mariah was more like a wanton dairymaid.

The only consolation was that Adam had felt exactly the same.

 

Adam realized that it had been a mistake to talk to Mariah before going to bed; seeing her had left him aroused and yearning. She looked so guileless and honest, as well as entrancingly lovely. But she had looked honest from the first time he'd opened his eyes and found her leaning over his bed. His judgment was flawed. Perhaps he could trust her. What was clearer was that he couldn't trust himself.

When he finally dozed off, his dreams were the most upsetting yet, starting with him as a small, shrieking boy being dragged from his home. The setting was clearly India and the sentiment understandable. That was a memory he would have been happier not to recover.

That was followed by a disturbing dream of a lovely young woman in his arms. He spoke to her, and she raised her face, radiant. She was fair and green eyed and English, not his mother. Though he had no wife, might he have a sweetheart? Mariah had wondered if she resembled another woman in his life, and she might be right.

Worst of all was his dream of walking into a ballroom filled with beautiful, exquisitely dressed people—and discovering that he was naked, every inch of his too dark skin exposed. He woke up sweating, both head and heart pounding.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
He managed to find wry amusement in the situation after he calmed down. He was quite sure no such incident had ever happened. The dream must have been about his fears of entering London society when he felt so unprepared. He would feel naked and vulnerable no matter what he was wearing.

Thank heaven for his friends. Though his lack of recollection frustrated them, they showed no signs of abandoning him. He would be well defended.

He must also give thanks for Mariah. Her lying about their marriage was a deep ache that he didn't want to contemplate, but she was still his favorite person. More than anyone, she saw him as he was now. He felt better when they were together.

Unfortunately, he couldn't even talk to her without having his brain clouded by desire, and the less he saw of her, the more intense his yearning. That was another reason for his difficulty in sleeping.

At least he had figured out how to alleviate unruly lust, though doing so was less satisfying than being with Mariah. As he touched himself, he wondered if such behavior was forbidden in English society. That was one piece of information he didn't need.

 

After three days of busyness, Mariah found it a relief to let Adam hand her into the “yellow bounder,” as post chaises were called. The bright yellow body made the hired carriages unmistakable. This one had room for four passengers and was drawn by four horses. The chaise that was collecting Adam's friends in Hartley would be the same.

By changing horses several times a day, they should be in London in a week or so. A mail coach was faster, but the chaise would be quicker than most other methods of traveling. She and her father had usually traveled by regular coach, which was slower and less comfortable, so a post chaise was luxury.

She relaxed back into the leather seat and smothered a yawn. She'd slept little the night before, worrying about whether she'd packed all she would need as well as brooding about Adam. Annabelle had jumped off her bed this morning, given her an injured glance, then stalked off to the kitchen. Mariah hoped the cat would forgive her absence when she returned to Hartley. But cat and estate would be in good hands with Mrs. Beckett and Mr. Cochrane.

Adam was about to join her in the carriage when Bhanu leaped inside enthusiastically. She seemed prepared to settle down and travel to London. Mariah leaned forward and scratched the dog's head. “I'm sorry, but you'll have to stay here. Think how Annabelle would miss you.”

Adam scooped the dog into his arms. “I think she'll have to be locked inside or she'll follow. I'll take her to the kitchen and she won't notice we're gone.”

A short time passed as he took Bhanu inside. Then he returned and the driver set the chaise in motion. Adam's gaze rested on the house as they pulled away.

“Are you thinking you might never return?” she asked, keeping her voice even.

Looking uncomfortable, he replied, “I certainly hope to come back, but…I just don't know.” The carriage turned into the lane that led to the road, ending his view of the house. He gazed at Mariah. “So much has happened here.”

“I've wondered if something will happen to bring back memories of your early life, and this time since the accident will disappear,” she said reflectively. “I once met a physician who had dealt with many head injuries, and apparently anything can happen.”

“I cannot imagine forgetting you.” His gaze was intense.

She shifted restlessly under his gaze at the same time the chaise hit a rut. Her knee brushed his. He caught his breath. “I think I should ride in the other chaise most of the time. Not a rejection of you. Rather…the contrary.”

“Very wise,” she agreed. “Of course, Julia will ride with me, but if she didn't, there would always be the danger of
this
happening.” She slid forward and caught his shoulders, then offered a kiss that tried to say everything that she couldn't put into words. That she loved him, desired him, was sorry for lying…

If she hadn't claimed they were husband and wife, would they have become so close? No point in wondering now.

He gasped and circled his arms around her waist as he kissed her back, his mouth devouring. “This is dangerous,” he said huskily.

“There isn't room for misbehavior in a carriage,” she said with a choked laugh.

“You think not?” He tightened his hands around her waist and lifted her toward him, pulling her onto his lap with her legs straddling him.

She was shocked at how intimately they were pressed together. Shocked, and aroused. As his hands caressed her back, she melted into him, her hips moving in an involuntary rhythm. “It would be
easy…
” she gasped. The rocking of the carriage added to the intoxicating motion. Her hand slid down between them.

“Easy, but not wise.” His breathing ragged, he caught her hand before it could descend farther. “Luckily, it's a short ride into Hartley.”

“Oh, heavens!” She tried to break away as reason returned.

He held her on his lap, his hands again caressing. “We still have a few minutes.”

But only a few. She wondered if this would be their last kiss. There would be few opportunities to be alone together during this journey, and once they reached London, circumstances would rapidly come between them. She rested her head on his shoulder as she thought about the days ahead. “Are you ready for London?”

“As ready as I can be.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I've asked the others not to discuss my amnesia. My close friends and family will need to know, but I'd rather not have my weakness tittered about by everyone in London society.”

“It's not a weakness; it's an injury.”

“It feels like a weakness when everyone knows more about my life than I do.”

“You're a duke,” she said. “Sneer them all down.”

He gave a surprised laugh. “You're a mischievous minx.” His arms tightened around her. “How can something wrong feel so right?”

“Because you're weighing on two different scales.” She stroked her hand down his chest. “Feeling is…feeling. Taste, touch, emotion, excitement—matters of the heart. Right and wrong are quite a different matter. They involve morality, wisdom, justice—matters of the mind.” She sighed. “So often they don't agree.”