Page 51 of Once More, My Darling Rogue
“In search of your memories.”
Chapter 14
He’d hired out a hansom cab. She couldn’t recall ever traveling in one although she couldn’t put much stock in her recollections since most were missing. She was, however, acutely aware that it was an incredibly small vehicle. He sat beside her, leaving no room between their hips, thighs, shoulders.
“I know etiquette,” she said quietly, the small confines immersing her in his intoxicating masculine scent with its hints of tobacco and whiskey. But beneath it all was the distracting fragrance of rugged man, his unique blend. “And proper comportment. In a carriage, the gentleman travels backward, allowing the lady to travel forward.”
“You’re assuming I’m a gentleman.”
“Aren’t you?”
“You’ve called me a scoundrel on occasion.”
“And still you kept me in your employ?”
He flashed a self-deprecating smile. “I don’t know what possessed me,” he uttered.
“You needed someone to tidy up after you.”
He chuckled low. “Have you not noticed I am the one doing most of the tidying up?”
She had noticed. He was very particular about it, constantly picking up her discarded articles of clothing and folding them neatly, putting them away. It occurred to her that he wouldn’t have a cluttered home even after he finally began to fill it with furniture. He would have only the pieces he needed. He required space; he required order. He required someone more adept at caring for things than she’d been since her tumble into the river. If she didn’t regain her memories soon he might be forced to let her go. Although she’d made some progress today with Marla’s assistance, she wasn’t certain she’d made enough to be valuable.
“So where precisely do you think we’re going to find my memories?” she asked.
“I’m not really sure. I spoke with Dr. Graves earlier—”
“Graves? What an unfortunate name for someone who is supposed to keep peoplefromthe graves.”
“Yes, I suspect there are times when he regretted choosing such a somber name.”
“Wasn’t he born with it?”
“I doubt it. He began his life on the streets during a time when names were changed on a whim. Regardless of that, however, he is remarkably skilled, so I sought his counsel. He suggested the familiar might stir your memories back to life. I thought it worth giving a try.”
“But shouldn’t you be at the club?”
“It’s still early in the evening. Most of the business comes later and this shouldn’t take long.”
She could tell by the curtness of his words that he was still out of sorts about the newspaper clipping. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
She felt his gaze home in on her. “I beg your pardon?”
Had he not heard her or were apologies from her foreign? Had he never heard her utter one before, as the words did seem odd on her tongue? Or did he not know what she was apologizing for?
“The box. I should have never opened it, should have left it be.”
“Yes, you should have let it alone. I suppose you have no recollection of Pandora and the harm she caused.”
She felt light-headed for a moment with the realization that she did indeed know the story. “Why would you keep that particular clipping and no other?”
Reaching up, he opened a hatch and shouted, “Here!”
The hansom came to a stop, and she wanted to scream because she knew he would ignore the question now. She heard the clank of the driver releasing the levers, and the doors sprang open. Drake stepped out, then reached in and took her hand. She’d placed her foot on the first step when he squeezed her hand, stilling her actions. They were on eye level now, something she doubted they often were. Little light was out this time of night, save the lantern hanging on the side of the cab, but it was enough for her to see into the coal-black depths of Drake’s eyes, to see his battle, to recognize when it had ended, and to wonder briefly why it appeared he’d lost.
“While you are striving to recall your past,” he replied quietly, “there are parts of mine that I would rather forget, and yet I believe it imperative that I not.”
“Was this Robert Sykes a friend of yours then?”
