Page 50 of Tamed By a Passionate Lady
He would remember, one day. She was sure of it. She just did not want to be the one to remind him.
“Thank you, Isabel,” she said slowly, her heart lifting. “Hewasdeeply unhappy, prior to the accident, and he does have a chance now at a better life. I think that you are right…it would be a shame for everyone, if he became that man again. And I think that if we were able to ask him, he would say the same thing.”
Chapter 18
James wheeled himself into the parlour. He had the portrait of the unknown woman in his hands. His heart was thumping hard in his chest as he gazed down at it. That urge to lock it away, and never look at it again, consumed him for a moment.
He had intercepted Reuben in the hallway, when his friend had returned from his excursion to Hemsworth, asking him if he would meet him in the parlour just before dinner. Reuben had looked intrigued but had readily agreed.
James stared at the door impatiently. He knew that the dinner gong was going to sound at any moment. Where was his friend?
But just at that moment, the door opened, and Reuben slipped in. He was already dressed for dinner, his thinning sandy hair slicked back. He smiled slowly, walking into the room, until he was standing just beside the wheelchair.
James watched as his friend’s eyes alighted on the portrait in his hands. Reuben’s smile abruptly faded, and his eyes grew troubled.
“Where did you find that, old chap?” he asked slowly. “I have not seen that face in many years…”
James felt his heart thump harder in his chest. “You recognise this woman?”
Reuben sighed, walking to the drinks cabinet. “I do recognise her,” he said, pouring two whiskeys, and handing one to James. “But it rather seems that you do not. That her face has been lost to you, along with all your other memories of the last few years.”
James gulped his whiskey, staring down at the portrait. “I knew her?”
Reuben laughed wryly. “Indeed you did, my friend.” He sobered abruptly. “But are you sure that you want me to tell you who she is?”
James kept staring at the portrait. That curious resistance sprang to life within him again. As much as he wanted to know, he didn’t want to know. But he had arranged this meeting, after all, gone to all the trouble of asking Reuben to come here, and he might as well go through with it now.
“Perhaps it would be better to let sleeping dogs lie,” continued Reuben, sipping his whiskey. “That is what they say, is it not?”
James took a deep breath. “Just tell me.”
Reuben nodded. “As you like.” He paused, somewhat dramatically. “Her name is Miss Lydia Hayward. Does it ring a bell?”
James stirred uneasily. “I do not think so.” And yet, as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt another strange shiver run through him.
“You were in love with Lydia,” continued Reuben, pacing the room, in front of him. “Many years ago, before your father died. You were head over heels in love, mad for her to the point of insanity…”
James stared at him, gobsmacked.
“You wanted to marry her,” said Reuben slowly, stopping, right in front of him. “You were determined. But things changed.” He paused. “Do you remember any of this?”
James shook his head slowly. His heart was thumping hard in his chest, and that strange uneasiness was making his skin prickle as Reuben spoke, but he could not remember any of it. He could not remember loving this woman, courting her, wanting to marry her. He looked back down at the portrait. It was like staring into the face of a stranger.
“You swore that you would never marry if you could not have Lydia,” said Reuben slowly. “You were determined. After your father died, you sold the family business to move here. You told me that you just wanted to be left alone, to live in isolation. I thought at the time that you were determined to make your life a shrine to her…”
James frowned deeply. None of this was stirring anything within him. But at least now he had a reason as to why he had deserted Liverpool to come here. He had been a broken man, nursing a broken heart. He had been running away from it, hoping to heal it in this beautiful house by the sea.
“But what about Adaline?” he asked slowly. “If I came here to nurse my broken heart, how did I meet and fall in love with her?”
To his surprise, Reuben burst out laughing.
“What is so amusing?” asked James, feeling irritated.
Reuben sighed. “You did not fall in love with Adaline,” he said, his mouth twitching. “It was your intention to never marry, as I said. But her mother contacted you, saying that she had once been best friends with your late mother, and that they had both dreamt of their children marrying one day. In fact, they had secretly betrothed you when you were only children.”
James was so shocked, he could barely find his voice. “A secret betrothal between the two women? I do not understand.” His head was spinning. “You say that I never courted her, or fell in love with her, prior to us marrying?”
Reuben nodded. “You only met her once, before the wedding. You journeyed to Coventry to meet her, but that was it.” He paused. “When I asked you why you were doing it, you grew sad and pensive. You claimed you were doing it in memory of your mother, because it had been her fondest wish, and said that perhaps it would be good to marry. You had no expectation of ever loving her, as your heart was already taken, but you thought that perhaps you could be companions in this remote location.”
