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The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2(12)

By:Sorcha MacMurrough




"Please, sir, do come sit by the fire. You need to get that hair dried before you head up, or else your neck will be ragingly stiff in the morning. And we certainly wouldn't want you to catch a chill."



"Oh, thank you, Miss," he said, almost eagerly seizing her hand, grateful for the warm contact.



He found to his surprise that he had almost missed her in the tub, her touch, her soft, soothing voice. "I fear I shan't be good company, however, for that hot bath has nearly exhausted me."



She seated him in the chair and spread his long thick locks over his shoulders. She draped a dry towel which Caleb offered her over his jacket, and squeezed his thick rope of hair. Then she fluffed it out again, relishing its silkiness.



"There, it will be dry in no time. And until it is, shall I play for you again?"



"That would be lovely. You're too kind."



"Not at all. I'm glad of the company. My home was always full of music until my brother went away to war. He's only just now becoming accustomed to it once more, and can finally listen to it and perform without pain and regret."



"Regret?" the stranger asked curiously.



Sarah knew she was babbling in an effort to cover her nervousness over being with such a handsome man.



"Yes, he and his childhood sweetheart Jane used to perform duets all the time, both on the pianoforte, and singing. They were exceedingly well matched in that respect, though not in all, I have to admit. She, er, became ill whilst he was away in the Army. Lost her wits. He tried to stand by her, but she, um, finally died this spring. He does not play very often, and has never sung since.



"But I think now, with his new love Pamela, he might be persuaded. It will take time, I think, but he's a good man, with a nobility of spirit which cannot be oppressed forever. But then, you probably know some of this, if you're Jonathan's friend."



"Friend?" he echoed, frowning. "Jonathan."



"Yes, of course. You came to the door asking for him, don't you remember?"



He rubbed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "To tell you the truth, there are some days when I remember very little. Others when I recall far too much."



She combed his hair with her fingers first, reveling in the silkiness, then realized how sensually forward she was being, and used the implement designed for that purpose which Caleb had brought in with him.



"I have to say, Jonathan is unforgettable. I mean, I'm sure that circumstances must have been very bad during the war, but he's always been most congenial company. Forgive me for boasting about him, but he's the very best of men. I'm sure any close friends of his are equally decent."



He raised one hand to test his hair and riffled it in front of the heat. "I'm sorry, Miss," he said with a dejected sigh, "but I really have so few recollections of the past couple of years. And my head is throbbing."



She began to rise from the bench. "Can I get you--"



He stayed her with one hand. "No, please, just sit and play."



"What would you like to hear?"



"I have no idea."



"You enjoyed the Beethoven before."



"Did I?" he asked with a frown.



"Why, yes. You named the piece for me, Fur Elise."



"I did?" He looked as blank as his tawny eyes now.



She tinkled the keys for a moment, wondering at the change in him. "Do you recall what we had for dinner?" she asked after a time.



He had to think for a moment. "Roast beef, potatoes. Apple crumble. Cheese."



He was accurate, but she could see the effort it had cost him. He had also stiffened and tensed up, bristling with defensiveness. "I'm not mad, not like your brother's friend."



"No, of course not. I never said--"



"If you don't mind, I really am exhausted," he said curtly. "May I go up to my room?"



"Yes, of course," Sarah said, rushing to his side to take his hand. She narrowly averted disaster as she steered him safely past the small table next to the settle. "Please, sir, I'm sorry if you're offended. If you thought that I was--"



"It's all right. It's just damned hard not remembering things. Feeling at a loss all the time, with everything so blank, so confusing," he said through lips now as white as bone. "I'm more grateful than I can say for all you've done for me this evening. But I really need to lie down before I fall down. And I apologize for being such a terrible and difficult house guest."



"Nonsense. Caleb, come here please?" she called quickly.



"Yes, Miss?"