Название | Loving A Lost Lord |
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Автор произведения | Mary Jo Putney |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | Lost Lords |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781420131673 |
Adam smiled at her with a sweet intimacy that made her catch her breath. “I couldn’t let that fellow hurt my wife.”
“I am very glad you came to investigate.” She was ashamed of the quaver in her voice. “How did you manage to toss a great lummox like Burke across the room?”
Adam frowned uneasily. “I…just knew. There are ways of using a man’s weight and size against him. Not that I thought about that. I just saw you fighting him and acted from instinct.”
So whatever his past, he knew how to fight. That went with his workman’s hands, but not his cultured speech. He was an enigma. And he believed completely in their marriage. Knowing he had defended her honesty to Burke made her feel wicked. “I’ll help you back to your room when you can walk again. You’re recovering splendidly, but Julia won’t like it if I let you overexert yourself.”
“I should like to sit up for a bit.” He pulled her down next to him on the sofa and put an arm around her, drawing her close. “I have missed you.”
Though she knew it was unwise, she relaxed into him, grateful for his strength and protectiveness. “Do you remember being with me?” she asked warily.
“I’m afraid not.” He rested his cheek against the top of her head. “But holding you feels so right that I know I must have been missing you.”
Her deception was getting more dangerous by the second, yet she couldn’t bring herself to move away from him. She, too, felt right when they were close. “You’re feeling better, I gather.”
“My head still hurts and right now I’m too weak to swing a cat, but I feel much better than when I was hanging on to wreckage at sea.” His warm hand stroked down her arm. “Though it might be best not to talk about my past, what about your father? How did he come to win the estate from the unpleasant Mr. Burke?”
“He supported us by traveling from one house party to the next. He was a charming guest, a good sportsman, never a burden. His card playing was good enough to keep us comfortable,” she explained. “Mr. Burke is not a good card player.”
“Was your father from around here?” Adam halted. “Where am I, anyhow?”
“Cumberland. The extreme northwest of England, just south of Scotland. Does that make sense to you?”
He frowned and with his free index finger began to trace a shape on the fabric of his banyan where it lay across his knee. Mariah saw that it was the rough outline of Britain. “Cumberland is here, yes?” He touched a spot on the northwest coast.
“Exactly. So you remember Britain.” She glanced up at him. “Do you know if you’re British?”
He frowned again. “In my mind, I hear yes and no at the same time.”
“It’s such an interesting mixture of things that you know and you don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “Surely you will recall everything soon.”
And the sooner, the better. It struck her that with Burke leaving Hartley, she could now tell “Adam” the truth—that they were strangers, not spouses.
But she couldn’t do that to him. Not when he looked at her as if she was the center of his universe. She could not bear to tell him that he was alone, with no name or friends or family. His help had freed her from Burke. Now she must aid him while he was vulnerable.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said. “Where were you born? Where is your family from? Now that your father is gone, do you have relations nearby?”
She smiled ruefully. “I know little more about my family roots than you do. My father and I were close. I knew him better than anyone in my life. Yet he would never talk about his past. I don’t know where he was born, who his family was, how he and my mother met, or even how she died.”
“So you have had two men of mystery in your life.” Adam’s mouth quirked up. “Why wouldn’t your father talk about his past?”
“I think that he was born into a gentry family, and that he was cut off because of bad behavior,” she said candidly. “He was barely twenty when I was born, and he lost my mother when I was about two. I remember nothing about her. After that, I lived with my grandmother in Shropshire. My father would visit several times a year. We had the loveliest Christmas holidays. Then he’d go off and join some hunting party.” She sighed, remembering how hard it was to say good-bye whenever he left.
“His family was from Shropshire?”
“Though Granny Rose lived there, I never heard anything to suggest that we were related to anyone in the neighborhood.” She didn’t intend to say more about her grandmother but changed her mind. The fact that she had told Adam a big lie made it seem essential for her to be truthful in everything else. “Granny Rose was half gypsy. She was my great-grandmother, actually. The village midwife and healer.”
Mariah watched to see if Adam was shocked to hear that she had gypsy blood, but he seemed only interested. “I can hear in your voice how special she was to you. Did you get your brown eyes from her?”
Mariah nodded. “She said the gypsy blood made the women in our family irresistible. I think the blood has thinned in me, but Granny Rose was beautiful till the day she died, and her daughter was lovely enough to win the heart of a gentleman.”
“The blood has not thinned in you,” Adam said firmly.
His gaze was so warm that Mariah blushed and looked away. “I was eighteen when Granny Rose died, and after that I traveled with my father.” Her lips thinned. “Burke accused him of cheating to win Hartley, but that’s a lie. Papa never cheated. He didn’t need to. Burke threatened to sue me to regain the property, using cheating as his grounds. If I’d have him for a husband, no lawsuit.”
“Outrageous that he talked so to a married woman! I should have thrown him into another wall before he left.”
“You weren’t here and I didn’t really discuss my situation with anyone.” She laughed a little. “Not talking about the past seems to run in my family, so I can understand why he didn’t believe me. But it was maddening that he thought I needed a man to take charge of Hartley Manor. Though I don’t know much about agriculture, I can learn, and I’m far better with the account books than George Burke ever was.”
“When I’m a little stronger, I can take over managing the farm,” Adam said.
She stared at him, startled by his calm presumption that he would take over management of her estate. But he thought he was her husband, and in English law, a wife’s property belonged to her husband. Still another drawback to having him think they were married.
Misunderstanding her expression, Adam said, “I believe that I actually do have farming experience, though I can remember no particulars.” He frowned. “It just feels like something I understand.”
“More mysteries.” She pulled herself together. “I expect you to remember everything soon, but if not, when you’re better I’ll show you around Hartley Manor and we can test your understanding.”
He stood, swaying with the effort. “I think I can make it back to the bedroom with your help. I promise to revive if you need any other unruly chaps tossed.”
She laughed and slid a supportive arm around his waist. She liked touching him, liked the way his arm came easily around her shoulders. They returned to his room and she helped him out of the banyan and into the bed. As she pulled the covers over him, he murmured, “Could I persuade you to lie down with me? Just till I fall asleep.”
His suggestion was equally shocking and appealing—and wouldn’t have been shocking if they truly were wed. The deciding factor was her fatigue. “That sounds like a lovely idea.” Carefully she stretched out on top of the covers on his right side so he wouldn’t injure his head if he rolled