“Originally you did mean to wait, Ashton,” Georgiana said. “But when you came to me to ask my blessing, you said that since you were heading off to Scotland, you wanted to offer for Janey before you left.” She smiled fondly. “You didn’t want her to fall in love with someone else during the Season.”
“I…see,” Adam said slowly. Mariah saw how he was struggling to accept that he was betrothed to a woman he couldn’t remember. “Where is Janey now? Why didn’t she come with you today?”
“She was in alt after you offered,” Georgiana explained. “Having had two Seasons already, she had no taste for this one without you, so she decided to visit my sister in Lincolnshire until you returned. I was planning to hold a grand ball to celebrate Janey’s birthday and announce the betrothal, until we heard the terrible news about your accident.” Georgiana’s expression turned grave. “She was devastated when I wrote her about your apparent death. She chose to stay in Lincolnshire and mourn there privately, rather than return to London.”
“Does she know I survived?” Adam asked.
“I wrote her as soon as we received Masterson’s letter, so she must know by now. She’ll want to rush back here to greet you, but she has been ill, so she’ll be delayed.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.” Adam’s words were wooden.
“She came down with the ague, a combination of grief and the dampness of the fens, I think.” Georgiana frowned. “I worried about the damp when she decided to make the visit, but she wanted to see her aunt and cousins. My sister won’t let her return to London until she’s well enough to travel, so it might be several weeks.”
“I wish her a speedy recovery,” Masterson said.
Georgiana glanced at Mariah, her gaze cold. She was glad that her daughter was going to be a duchess, and her expression made it clear that a nobody from the country was not going to interfere with this perfect family arrangement. “As you see, Miss Clarke, it’s quite impossible for you to be betrothed to Ashton.”
Trying to hold on to what dignity she could, Mariah said, “Of course Ashton and I were both aware that there might be an existing relationship that had not yet become public. You know you have my best wishes, Ash.” She thought she managed to sound calm, though Masterson and Julia watched her with worried expressions.
“Thank you.” His voice was a whisper as his hand dropped from her shoulder.
The congealed silence broke when servants entered with two new place settings. The guests seated themselves and the first course appeared in an abundance of platters and bowls. Masterson and Kirkland carried much of the conversation, with help from Hal Lawford. The women were uniformly silent, and Randall frowned into his plate. Adam looked numb. Though the food was undoubtedly delicious, it sat in Mariah’s stomach like gravel.
The luncheon dragged on for what seemed like forever. As soon as was polite, Mariah excused herself, saying she was tired from the journey and wished to rest. Adam’s wounded gaze followed her as she left. If she were more selfish, she might be glad that he was as unhappy as she.
She was very proud of herself. She managed to control her tears until she was safely back in her room.
The luncheon party broke up quickly after Mariah left. In the bustle as guests prepared to leave, Adam took Will Masterson aside. “This betrothal to Janey Lawford—is it plausible that I asked her to marry me?”
“You never gave a hint that you might ask her, but yes, it does make sense,” Will replied, his brow furrowed. “You’ve always been very fond of Janey. I thought you regarded her more as a younger sister, but feelings change, and she’s grown from a tomboy to a beautiful young woman.”
Adam thought of the dream he’d had of embracing a green-eyed young beauty. Was he remembering when he and Janey had become engaged? “No one seemed surprised to hear of the betrothal.”
“You were more relaxed with Janey than any other woman in the ton, but as her legal guardian, you would have considered it inappropriate to declare your feelings before she came of age.” Will looked thoughtful. “If you were quietly waiting for her to turn twenty-one, it would explain why you showed no interest in courting anyone else.”
Adam felt the prison bars clanging shut. He was betrothed to a woman whom he couldn’t remember. Afraid he knew the answer, he asked, “If I recall correctly, it is unacceptable for a man to cry off a betrothal.”
“Quite. It simply isn’t done by any man of honor.” Masterson’s expression was sympathetic. “When you meet Janey again, you will remember why you wish to marry her. She is a warm, charming, intelligent young woman.” He hesitated. “If you had met Miss Clarke before offering for Janey, it might have been different. Miss Clarke has equal warmth and intelligence, plus a maturity and seasoning that Janey hasn’t had the opportunity to develop. But you met Miss Clarke too late.”
Too late. Damn, but he should have insisted Mariah run off to Gretna with him!
Before Adam could say more, a soberly dressed gentleman of middle years approached him. “Your grace, I’m George Formby, your secretary. If you have time this afternoon, there are urgent matters of business that require your attention.”
So much for going after Mariah. Duty called, and apparently the Duke of Ashton always did his duty.
The well-organized Formby had a mountain of documents for Adam’s consideration. Adam signed the ones that were simple, urgent, and easy to decide. More complex issues he set aside for later. The secretary patiently explained everything. There was a vague sense of familiarity to all these business matters, but without Formby, Adam would have been lost.
It was an exhausting session for both of them. The afternoon was well advanced when Adam said, “I’ve absorbed all that I can for one day. Are there any other matters that must be addressed instantly?”
Formby reached for some papers, then stopped. “Nothing is so urgent that it can’t wait. You’ve done well for your first day home.” He collected the papers that Adam had signed. “On behalf of the entire household, your grace, we’re glad you survived.”
Adam rubbed his aching temple. “Thank you, Formby. And thank you for your patience with my shortcomings.”
The secretary inclined his head and withdrew. Adam sat wearily at his desk. This ground-floor study was a handsome room with dark wainscoting, lavish Oriental carpets, and plenty of books and comfortable furniture. It made a good cave for him to hide in.
He hadn’t the vaguest idea what to do next. During his journey he’d hoped that returning to his real life would bring back memory and a sense of belonging. Instead, he felt more like a stranger visiting this life on sufferance.
When a tap sounded at the door, he called out permission to enter. His heart somersaulted when Mariah entered. He rose and gazed at her hungrily. Her expression looked almost normal, though she stood with her back against the closed door, as if prepared to bolt.
“I came to ask permission to borrow a footman to escort me to my lawyer’s office in the morning,” she said in a voice of exquisite neutrality. “I want to take care of my business promptly so I can return home.”
“There is no need to rush away from London,” he said, his throat tight. “You are always welcome in my home.”
“There is every need to leave,” she said softly. “I have no place here.”
She was wise. Wiser than he, because he wanted nothing more than to keep her close. But saying so would be wrong and would make the situation worse.
Forcing his voice to evenness, he said, “Of course you can have the services of a footman, but why not start by sending a note? That way you can set a time rather than go to his office and perhaps find him away.” He smiled. “Use Ashton House stationery. That will catch his attention.”
She made a face. “I hate to rely on your name, but that would be convenient. Mr. Granger has been neglectful. He hasn’t answered a single one of my letters. Though perhaps he is ill and can’t.”
“It’s generous of you to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it’s mor
e likely that he’s incompetent,” Adam said. “A capable man would have a clerk to carry on the business if he’s ill. Would you like me to come with you? It would be my pleasure.”
She considered, then nodded. “A lone female may not be taken seriously. After I meet the man, I’ll know if I need to find another lawyer.”
“I will be happy to help you, and Mrs. Bancroft as well.” His smile was wry. “I might as well get some use out of my exalted station.”
Her answering smile was equally wry. “If there is one thing I’ve learned in my irregular life, it’s to be practical. I’m sure you’ll alarm the lawyer, and if George Burke ever returns to threaten a lawsuit, I will be happy to watch you terrify him. Thank you, your grace.”
He drew in a painful breath. “Please don’t call me that. I prefer Adam, or Ash, or Ashton, but ‘your grace’ is just too absurd from you.”
“Very well, Ash.” She turned and reached for the doorknob.
He wished she would call him Adam, but that was too intimate. Needing to speak of their situation, he said haltingly, “When you speculated that perhaps I had made a commitment to a woman I didn’t remember, I really didn’t think it likely, but you were right. I’m…very sorry indeed.”
Mariah looked wistful but shook her head. “So am I, but when your aunt revealed the betrothal, I realized we had been wise to wait before doing anything rash.”
They’d been rash that afternoon in the garden, and he wasn’t sorry. “You are a better person than I. My first thought was regret that we hadn’t gone to Gretna. Nothing could have been done if we had come to London married.”
“You say that now because you don’t remember Janey, but think of how that would have been for her. She’s known you most of her life, and probably loved you all that time. She would be devastated if you returned with a bride.” Mariah’s expression turned brittle. “And she may well be a better wife for you. She was raised in your circle; she knows your friends and how to be a duchess.”
Adam sighed. “You may be right, but it’s hard to feel for a stranger. You’re the one whom I know and want.”
Her eyes narrowed. “When we met outside the dining room, you looked at me differently.”
“While in my quarters, I realized I’d been less than honest in my own life, and decided I had made too much of the one lie you told,” he said. “I was about to ask you to forgive me in the hope that we could resume where we left off.”
“There is nothing to forgive.” She looked away, no longer able to meet his gaze. “I am glad that we met, even if I never see you again after I leave London.”
Her words were searing, but irrefutable. If he was bound to another woman, it would be foolish and unfair to see Mariah again.
But even if he couldn’t spend his life with Mariah, he wanted her to know the hidden part of him. “Will you come up to my rooms? There is something there I’d like you to see.” He smiled wryly. “I know it’s not respectable to take you there, but my motives are not dishonorable, and I think you’ll find it…interesting.”
“My curiosity always has been stronger than my judgment,” she said with an answering smile that almost made him forget his honorable intentions. “Lead on, your grace—Ash.”
As they left his study and climbed the stairs, he asked, “Is your room comfortable?”
“It’s the best I’ve ever had, and I speak as someone who has been a guest in far too many country houses.” She glanced at him curiously. “How do you feel about this house? It is familiar?”
“A little. But I had hoped that returning to my home would bring back my past.” At the top of the stairs, he directed her to the right. “Instead, it’s more teasing frustration. There is only one place so far that really speaks to me. That’s where I’m taking you.”
He opened the door to his suite, then crossed to the writing desk and removed the key from its hiding place. He made no attempt to hide the location. This was only a small act of trust compared to revealing his inner self.
“Enter my secret retreat.” He opened the door and gestured her inside.
Her eyes widened and she turned in a slow circle, her fascinated gaze studying the statues. “This is prayer, not art, I think.”
He nodded. “You said it better than I could.”
She touched the dried flowers in front of Lakshmi. “You have kept your childhood faith in your heart.”
“Are you appalled by my heathen habits? I’m not a proper English Christian gentleman.”
“You knew the Anglican prayers and responses as well as I did,” she said thoughtfully. “I think you have become more than a usual Englishman, not less.”
He gave a sigh of relief. “I wasn’t sure how you would feel about this. Perhaps I shouldn’t care what you think of my Hindu nature, but…I do care. I don’t want you to be repulsed.”
“Granny Rose said that long, long ago, the Rom—the Gypsies—came from India. Perhaps we are far distant cousins.” She gestured at Lakshmi. “You were not appalled when I told you of my Gypsy blood. We can share tolerance.”
“Thank you for your acceptance,” he said quietly. “Would you like to know more about the different gods?”
She gave him a quick smile. “Please.”
Talking about the different deities helped him control his simmering lust. As they left the room, she said, “You remember a great deal about the gods. This part of your memory is working, I think.”
“So it is,” he said, surprised. “I hope that’s a good sign. I think that acknowledging the Hindu side of my nature is critical to my regaining my past.” He locked the door. “I wonder if Janey will accept this part of me, or if she’ll be appalled.”
“I don’t think you would have offered for her if you didn’t have faith in her acceptance,” Mariah said. “In fact, perhaps you’ve already brought her here.”
“Interesting thought. You’re always one step ahead of me.” He frowned as he tried to visualize himself and Janey in his sanctuary. “It doesn’t feel like that happened, but I can’t trust myself on that when I barely remember what she looks like.”
“Do you remember her at all?”
“I think so,” he said reluctantly. “I have an image of her throwing her arms around me while she smiled radiantly. Perhaps it was when I offered for her.”
“Very likely.” All the animation left Mariah’s face as she glided to the door that led to the corridor. “Thank you for sharing such an important part of yourself.”
Her expression was a blade in his heart. She was walking away, and soon she would be gone from his life entirely. The thought was unbearable.
He caught up with her before she opened the door. “Mariah…”
She turned, her face anguished. They came together like a firestorm, kissing and touching frantically. He buried his fingers in her sunshine hair. Her mouth intoxicated like wine, and her warm body molded perfectly to his. He forgot the barriers between them as he caressed and tasted and inhaled her essence. Mariah, his savior and delight, the center of his life. He wanted to protect her forever, and make love to her for just as long.
“I’m trying to do the right thing, Adam,” she whispered brokenly, “but it’s so hard to want you this much when I can’t have you.”
They pressed against the door, hips pulsing in an instinctive desire to join. Burning with tenderness and desire, he kissed her throat. “How can this not be right?”
She gasped, her fingers digging into his back. Then she wrenched away, panting as she struggled for control. “What we are doing is dishonorable. We mustn’t continue, no matter how compelling lust is.”
He wanted to take her in his arms again. Even more, he wanted to carry her to his bed. But the corner of his mind still capable of reason knew she was right. “What I feel for you is far more than lust. But…honor matters.”
“We can’t be alone again.” She smiled shakily as she brushed her hair back. When had the golden waves tumbled loose? “Neither of us have the willpower for
that.”
“We can’t be alone in private, but surely we can be together in public for what little time we have left.” He needed to store memories for the dark years when she would be gone. “Will you ride with me in the morning? On horses and in a park with a groom behind, surely we can control temptation.”
She gave a rueful sigh. “If I had any sense, I’d say no, but I’ve proved I have little sense. Very well, tomorrow morning we go riding. But tonight, I will take dinner in my room. I don’t think I could manage sharing a table with you after this moment.”
With a ride to look forward to, he could let her go now with some semblance of calm. “Let me check the corridor. It’s better you not be seen leaving my rooms.”
She smoothed her hair back and rearranged her expression to calm detachment. “By all means, let us maintain appearances since it’s far too late for good behavior.”
He opened the door and glanced out. No one in sight. Stepping back, he gestured her through.
But as she left, he touched her shining hair and locked his hand around the gossamer memory.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As soon as Mariah reached her room, she folded onto the bed, shaking. Would it have been better if Adam hadn’t forgiven her lie? It was agonizing to know that he wanted her now but that unbreakable social custom stood between them.
She had the wicked, un-Sarahish thought that she might be able to seduce him into marriage; his amnesia meant that his grasp of a gentleman’s code of honor was weaker than it would be otherwise. The thought was tempting, so tempting. But Adam’s life was still too volatile, too full of changes. She’d be a fool to manipulate him into doing something he might regret forever.
But the idea was still…painfully tempting.
Mariah shared tea and toast with Julia in their sitting room early the next morning. Then Julia helped her friend don a dark brown habit with silver trim that Adam had not seen her wear.
After Julia left, Mariah examined her reflection. She would not disgrace a duke. Even though the habit had been given to her by an older woman several years before, Mariah’s skillful alterations had removed the worn fabric and made the outfit look new and fashionable.