Page 17 of When the Marquess Was Mine
“But he’ll remember eventually?” she pressed. “Perhaps the next time he wakes up?”
“Perhaps,” said the doctor. “We must hope so.”
He went and fussed with the curtains, leaving Georgiana staring at Westmorland in renewed terror. Her heart hammered and a chill ran over her arms. She had thought it would be terrible when Westmorland woke up and recognized her.
She hadn’t thought of how much worse it might be if he woke up and actually fell for her lunatic, untrue story.
Chapter 7
The next time he woke it was dark. Cautiously he opened his eyes, and sighed in relief that the only light was from a lamp turned down low. Either due to the darkness or because he’d taken a long nap, he felt much better this time, and better able to ponder his surroundings.
It was too dark to see much in the unfamiliar room, but he could seeher. Lady Georgiana was curled up sideways in an armchair right beside him, her cheek pillowed on one hand, fast asleep. Someone was snoring in the room, but he didn’t think it was she.
His fiancée.
He stared at her, trying to draw even a slight memory from his still-fuzzy brain. She was a beauty, no question. But just as he could not recall coming to this house or where he’d come from, he couldn’t remember meeting her, or courting her, or dancing with her, or kissing her, or asking her to marry him. Perhaps it was arranged.
No. He wouldn’t have an arranged marriage.
That thought caught him off guard. It had been strong and visceral. Well then. He wanted to marry her, and she must have wanted to marry him. The doctor said she’d been here for three days.
As he watched, her eyes opened. For a moment they regarded each other in silence. “Are you awake?” she whispered.
“I think so.” He flexed his hands and shifted, trying to ease the stiffness in his neck.
She leapt out of her chair. “Don’t hurt yourself!” She adjusted the pillows and helped him find a more comfortable position. “Better?”
“Yes.” She smelled lovely, like oranges. He cleared his throat, liking the way she leaned over him. “Could you explain what happened?”
Her hands, tugging the blanket smooth, went still. She sank back onto the edge of her chair. “Do you still remember nothing?”
“I’m trying to.” Especially regarding her.
She stared at him intently for another moment, then her shoulders sagged. “I don’t know exactly what happened.”
“Start with what you do know.” He tried to smile. Damn, his lip must be split. It hurt like the devil.
She sucked in a deep breath and bent her head, plucking at something on her skirt. “I was out riding when we heard a disturbance on the road—”
“Before that,” he interrupted. “Where are we? Is this your home?” He was sure—sure—it wasn’t his.
“This is Osbourne House.” She peeked at him through her lashes as though waiting for a response. “In Derbyshire.” Another expectant look. He made a helpless gesture. Nothing was familiar. He supposed it should be; surely he would know all this about his fiancée.
She sighed and pressed her hands together in her lap. “The lady of the house, Lady Winston, is a dear friend of mine from school.” She shot him a quick look again, as if checking for a flash of recognition, but the name meant nothing to him.
“She’s had a baby and can’t go to town this year, so I came to visit,” she went on. “The countryside is lovely, and I was out for a ride, as I said, when we heard trouble. The groom went to see, and he found you in the road, unconscious, and the men who beat you were fleeing.”
“How many?” he wanted to know.
“At least two, probably three. Adam didn’t get a close look.”
It had taken three men to bring him down. He felt a wholly unwarranted satisfaction at that. Idiot. They most certainlyhadtaken him down, and beaten him to flinders as well. What did he have to be proud of in that?
“It was faster to bring you here than to the village,” she was saying, “so we brought you to Osbourne House, where you’ve been ever since.”
He frowned, as much as his face could bear. “Why would you think of the village, when you’re here? How distant is the village?”
Her lips parted, and she blinked. “Oh—I—I did not recognize you at first. You were covered in blood...”
