Page 24 of A Countess Captured for the Captain
“There is much still to remember, I am sure,” his uncle said, as his aunt took hold of Nox and peered at him.
“Zee very image,” she repeated.
“We must have a celebration, a chance to show you off to the world you have returned to. The whole of London will be speaking of it,” his uncle said.
“Yes, Albert, a ball, we must have a ball, and invite everyone we know to share it,” Nox’s aunt declared.
She was a formidable-looking woman, quite a contrast to his uncle, who seemed somewhat shy and retiring in comparison. Nox could remember nothing of them, but then he could remember little of anything. The sea was all he had known, and his mind turned to the fate of Strap and the others.
“I suppose there is a lot I must tell you,” he said, thinking that it was best that he offer an explanation of his time at sea.
His uncle nodded, offering him a brandy, as his aunt rang for the maid to bring tea.
“We must hear it all,” he declared, rubbing his hands together, as Nox began to explain.
* * *
The following days were nothing short of whirlwind. Nox was introduced near and far, his return heralded as the greatest of miracles. His uncle had wisely decided that his link to the pirates be downplayed, and the story was told that Nox – or Norman as his aunt insisted he be known – had been the victim of a terrible ordeal at the hands of a vicious band of pirates.
“Remember, you are a respected aristocrat, and expected to behave as such. You are to be declared the Earl of Brimsey. The rightful heir is returned and he must be known as a respectable gentleman,” Nox’s uncle said, after Nox had been subjected to the barber’s chair, and fitted for a new wardrobe.
It was put about the ton that a ball was to be held in his honor at the townhouse in Knightsbridge, a ball to which all and sundry were to be invited. This was to be his coming out, a chance for society to meet the long-lost Earl, whom all believed had perished at sea. His uncle was quite beside himself, declaring it a miracle, one he could hardly believe.
“I would like Samantha to be invited to the ball,” he told his uncle, as the preparations were made.
His uncle looked at him in surprise. Amid this excitement, Nox was all too aware that he had heard nothing from Samantha. He missed her terribly and wanted to see her, aware not only of his ever-growing feelings for her, but of the debt of gratitude he owed her.
“You wantherto come?” he asked, and Nox nodded.
“I want to prove to her father that I am not merely some outlaw and pirate, and yes, I do want her to come. I want her to come very much,” he replied, thinking back to the tender moments they had shared.
“I suppose it may be of benefit,” his uncle mused.
“I want her father to accept me, I want to marry her,” he declared, and now his uncle raised his eyebrows.
“Marry her?” he asked, and Nox nodded.
“Is that not what an Earl should do?” he asked, though his thoughts were far from duty, concentrated instead upon the delight of knowing Samantha further.
“I suppose it would be a suitable match,” his uncle mused, and Nox wasted no time in further extolling Samantha’s qualities.
“She is the only woman who has ever truly captured my heart, the only woman I can think of who would make me happy. I want to marry her. It is as simple as that,” Nox declared, and his uncle could hardly dissuade him from that, so happy did he appear to have his nephew returned.
“How fortunate we are to have you returned to us, fortunate, indeed,” his uncle would say, as the two of them walked together in the parks or took a stroll about the gardens.
But still Nox could not remember the truth, not about his uncle, nor his parents, it was the one stain on what now appeared a happy life, and even the possibility of marriage to Samantha did little to quell that ever-present feeling that there was something he needed to remember. All he had was the pocket watch and the likeness to the child in the paintings. He would stand in the hallway looking up at the painted figures of his mother and father, wondering what they were like, trying desperately to summon some long distant recollection. But alas, to no avail. The past was as closed to him as a forgotten dream, just out of reach, as though hidden behind a thick fog.
“I wish I could remember,” Nox said to his uncle, but his uncle only smiled and shook his head.
“Do not trouble yourself, my boy, those memories will return and, in the meantime, your aunt and I can furnish you with anything you wish to know,” he replied, stating again how astonished he was to have found the nephew he thought long ago dead.
* * *
“Why can you not sit still, Samantha, really,” Regina said, as the two of them waited for the arrival of Reginald Spencer.
He was due at eleven o’clock, but it was now fifteen minutes past the hour and Samantha was growing impatient, not least because she was forced to suffer the company of Regina for far longer than she wished. She had heard nothing from Nox and had grown ever more despondent in the hours since they had parted in Knightsbridge.
She had passed a restless night, tossing and turning, wondering what would become of her. Regina had taunted her all morning, reminding her it was she and not Samantha that had the Duke’s ear. Samantha despised her, wishing that there was some way of proving to her father what a wicked woman she really was. But he was besotted, entirely caught up in love for the woman who had him wrapped around her little finger.
