‘Sorry,’ Will said, still not feeling particularly apologetic. ‘I have the devil of a megrim.’ He frowned. ‘But do not call for laudanum. If, as you say, I have been asleep for months, I do not relish the thought of drugged slumber tonight.’
‘If?’ Adam looked at him with arched eyebrows and took a sip of his drink. ‘Tell me, William. You have known me all your life. In that time, have I ever lied to you?’
‘Of course not,’ he said, staring down into his drink and feeling foolish for sounding so sceptical. Then he added, ‘But I have known you, on occasion, to believe the lies of others.’
Adam nodded. ‘Who do you think is lying to me now? And how could they have managed, against such clear-cut evidence? I have watched you insensible in that bed upstairs for nearly two months. There was no question about the severity of your injury, or your nearness to death.’
‘But you were not there at the time of the accident,’ he prodded.
‘No,’ Adam agreed, ‘I was not.’
‘And you believe the story told by this Justine de Bryun?’
‘Yes, I believe her story,’ Adam replied. ‘But her name is Lady Justine Felkirk. Because she is your wife.’
‘How do you know that?’ Will slammed his fist down on the table in frustration, making the crystal glasses shudder. I know that you were not at the wedding. ‘Have you seen the licence?’
Adam did not hesitate. ‘You married in Gretna, just as I did. No licence was necessary.’
‘Then why do you believe her?’ Will pressed him. ‘What evidence do you have, other than the word of this stranger? How do you know that she is not responsible for the state I am in?’
His brother responded with a quelling look and said, ‘Because I can find no reason to explain why she would injure you, then arrive at my home, exhausted from days spent in a coach, cradling your broken head in her lap, so that she might nurse you back to health.’
‘Perhaps she is not at fault,’ Will admitted, feeling even more foolish. ‘But that does not mean I married her. If I experienced a grand passion that moved me to act so rashly as to wed, I would hope to feel some residue of it.’
‘Residue?’ Adam was smiling now. ‘You speak of love as if it were a noxious mould.’
‘Is it natural that I should forget a woman who looks like that?’ Even his happily married brother must have noticed that Justine de Bryun was a beauty worthy of memory. ‘Is it normal that I feel nothing, when I look at her?’
‘Nothing?’ his brother said in surprise.
Will shrugged. That last had not been precisely true. There was not a man alive who could look at his alleged wife and feel nothing. But surely he should not feel such a strange mix of suspicion and desire.
‘Nothing about these last few months have been natural,’ his brother said as though that explanation would be any comfort. ‘But I can tell you that the one thing we have all grown to count on, since you were returned to us in such an unfortunate condition, was the love of your Justine. She never wavered in her loyalty to you, no matter how unlikely recovery seemed.’
‘I do not fault her for her devotion,’ Will said. ‘But a compassionate stranger might have done the same for me.’
‘She is more than that to you, I am sure,’ Adam said. ‘Once we knew her, I could not help but love her, as I am sure you did. She is not simply devoted and beautiful, she is talented as well. Good company, well mannered, the very opposite of the sort of empty-headed chits that sought you out in London.’
‘It is all well and good that you love her,’ Will reminded him. ‘But you have a wife of your own.’
‘Do not be an idiot,’ Adam said with a snort. ‘Penny loves her as well. They are practically sisters. In two months she has become like a member of our family.’
‘That does not explain why I married her,’ Will announced. ‘Nor does it explain why you were willing to take her into the house with such a sham story as the one she brought. Sudden elopements? Riding accidents? That does not sound at all plausible. Have you ever known me to make major decisions on a whim? Do I drink to excess, bet foolishly, race my horses, or take up with strange women?’
‘You are the most sensible of men,’ Adam agreed. ‘Almost too sensible to be a younger brother. It is I who should be lecturing you. I remember the way you scolded me, when I brought Penny to London...’
‘Let us not speak of it,’ Will said, holding up a hand. ‘I was wrong. But as you say, I am almost too cautious. That is why I doubt the events as they have been presented to me. It is totally out of character for me to behave in such a way as Justine de Bryun ascribes to me. And you have only her word for the truth of it.’
Adam frowned and then admitted, ‘We did doubt, at first. But once we knew her, all doubts were gone.’
‘For what reason?’ Will said, frustrated almost to anger.
‘Because once we had spoken to her, it was clear she was exactly the sort of woman you’d have chosen for yourself. She is level-headed, wise, calm in adversity and has a quick wit. Her tastes and opinions, her sense of humour, and the hours she keeps? All are a perfect match to yours.’ Adam shook his head in amazement. ‘She is obviously your soul’s mate, Will. How could you have married anyone else?’
‘You cannot be serious,’ he said. He thought back to his interactions with the girl, who would barely look him in the eye, much less speak aloud, and wondered if that was truly what others saw in him.
Adam smiled. ‘I know it is difficult, at the moment, But you must have seen these qualities yourself, when you met her. It was clearly a matter of like attracting like. Trust me, Will. More accurately, the two of you are like iron and a lodestone. She has been nearly inseparable from you since the first moment she arrived. She allows herself a brief walk each morning, but other than that, she was never far from your side.’
‘Except at night,’ Will added. The thought of such constant scrutiny felt almost oppressive.
‘Most nights, she slept on a cot in your dressing room,’ Adam said. ‘She wanted to be near if you awakened. There was no part of your care too lowly that she would not at least attempt it.’
There was that thrill of fear again, that he had felt as he’d thought of her holding a razor. She was certainly as lovely as Delilah. Could she not be as dangerous as well?
But it seemed that Adam had no such worries. ‘She has worked, from the first, as though she already possessed your love and admiration. I am sure you will find it again, once you are fully recovered. In the mean time, if you cannot trust your own heart, trust your family. All will be well. Now finish your drink and let me help you to your room. No doubt you will feel differently in the morning.’
And when had he ever trusted his heart when making such a momentous decision? As Adam shepherded him up the stairs, there was no point in telling him the futility of that advice. The heart was a capricious organ, likely to say the opposite of his poor dented skull. As his valet helped him prepare for bed, he still felt headachy and weak, and utterly confused. He did not dare tell Stewart, or even his brother, that, now that it was dark, he dreaded returning to the bed he had lain in for so long. Suppose he closed his eyes and opened them to discover that he had lost another half a year?
Surely that would not happen. He had improved since the afternoon. While the pain and confusion remained, the blank slate of his memory had begun to fill again, even if the scrawls he imagined on it were written in someone else’s hand. Now, he must sleep, even though he did not feel tired. In the morning, he would walk, though he had no real desire to move. Little by little he would fight off the stupor and force body and mind to function at his command.
Stewart