Page 17 of An Earl to Remember
“Good heavens, are there truly situations like these?”
Albert sighed. “What I do know is that he needs proper rest and to not be agitated. He took a blow to the head, and he was in the water for heavens only know how long. There is no dock nearby, and it can only be a miracle that he lives. There was a slight fever last night that abated this morning, and I can tell he is a man in pain but the proud sort who does not seem behooved to ask anyone for help. He needs your care, Georgie.”
She nodded, feeling numb. Albert shuffled from the room, and the earl turned to face her. They stared at each other, Georgianna unable to read his indecipherable expression and she no doubt appearing like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap.
Oh God, what have I truly done?
Chapter Six
“I am irrevocablycertainthat I do not live here,” Daniel said, staring at the modest white stone-washed manor and the overgrown garden to the side. Incredulity writhed within his chest. “There is a chicken walking about as if…as if itliveshere, too. There is a certain assurance in those steps that says it knows it will not be eaten.”
His bride of only a few days, if the tale could truly be believed, made a sound low in her throat, and her cheeks pinkened. A whirlwind romance, she’d said, throes of passion and love. He might not have his memory, but he was damn certain he was not the sort to believe in any sort of romance. The surety of it settled deep inside his chest.
The damn chicken waddled over and pecked at her shoes, as if in greeting. Daniel made a sound of disbelief in his throat, and Miss Heyford peeked up at him from beneath incredibly long lashes.
“You and Hetty are good friends, Mr. Stannis. I am certain she misses you.”
“Hetty? The fowl has aname?”
“Yes.”
He paused and stared at her carefully bent head and subtly shifting shoulders. Was Miss Heyford laughing? He arched a brow but made no comment, relieved she would find some sort of humor from this damn situation when earlier her eyes had been dark with embarrassment at his recitation of all the reasons he would not have married a woman like her, even if she was in possession of some beauty.
Except I did.
She was not at all plain as he suggested, he could admit, even if she was arrayed plainly. Miss Heyford…or Mrs. Stannis, he supposed, was astonishingly pretty. She owned petal-soft skin with a golden hue indicating she spent a copious amount of time outdoors. She also had a lush mouth with full and inviting lips, which evoked too many lurid thoughts.
Daniel frowned when the door to the manor opened, not by a butler or a footman, but by a young lady who greatly resembled his wife. A sister perhaps. That this young lady opened her own door struck him as…wrong.
“I am used to servants opening my doors,” he said with certainty.
Miss Heyford’s golden-brown eyes widened. “That…that was before the collapse.”
His gut tightened. “The collapse of what?”
Her throat worked on a swallow. “Your fortune. You are broke.”
He bloody recoiled. “I ambroke?”
“Yes,” she said, careful to not look at him.
Why, what are you hiding from?“I had several bank notes in my pocket,” he said gruffly.
“I…I was surprised by the sum that you were found with, Mr. Stannis.”
Fucking hell. He looked back at the manor that was in desperate need of a coat of paint, the overgrown weeds, and perhaps a new roof. Daniel knew he was not a man who could exist being damn well broke. The very word offended his senses.
“Is this perhaps a quaint country cottage we visit from time to time because…I might be a tad bit eccentric?”
She glanced up at him, her mouth shaping a smallOof surprise. “This is your only home now. If you own others, I do not know their addresses or anything about them, sir.”
A desperate feeling of unreality crept over his senses. Why could he not recall any bloody thing? Raw frustration and fright surged through his veins, and he took a deep breath to steady himself against the sensation. Anger and panic would do little to solve his dilemma. Daniel believed in calm practicality and logical planning in solving problems.
“I don’t…I don’t remember anything. You, this house, my name, or even where I am from.”
Her gaze softened. “I know. I am terribly sorry… It must feel so petrifying. You need to rest and heal. Perhaps in a few days you could…do more to try and remember. My cousin has recommended nothing strenuous, and I am certain pushing yourself to recall too soon might be detrimental.”
Daniel was not at all certain what to say, hence he remained silent.
