Regardless, Adam had made his decision and he would see it through. The first order of business was to secure new lodging. He had an appointment today with a man who had space to lease in a somewhat fashionable area of town. Adam had saved enough of his pay during his years in the army to afford it for the time being. He would just go to his bedchamber, fetch his coat, and be off.
Determined, he took the stairs two at a time. When he came to the upstairs landing, he turned toward his rooms at the far end of the corridor but stopped when he spied the door to Lady Magnolia’s bedchamber. Had she remembered who she was overnight? Was she in there hoping someone would come and tell her why she was in a strange house? Was she still sleeping? Or was Lucy in there talking to her, trying to help her remember?
Adam told himself to turn around and continue to his room, but for some reason he remained rooted to the spot near Lady Magnolia’s door. Why? Why did he care so much? Why did he care at all? It was only his curiosity, wasn’t it? Who was she? Where did she belong? She was injured and without a home at present. That’s right. He would treat a lost dog with the same courtesy. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that her skin was like porcelain, her eyes dark and compelling, her lips like rose petals. Oh, God. What was happening to him? When had he ever compared a woman’s features to rose petals, for Christ’s sake? He was waxing downright poetic. He took a step closer to her door.
“Go on then.” Lucy’s voice startled him.
Adam turned to see his sister-in-law standing behind him, the hint of a smile on her lips.
“I wasn’t going in,” he replied, straightening to his full height and clearing his throat.
Lucy cocked her head to the side. “Weren’t you?”
“No.”
“I think you should,” she ventured.
“Why?”
“To check on our patient, of course.”
“I thought you were going to check on her.”
Lucy shrugged. “I was, but she was sleeping. However, I just heard some rustling about so I do believe she’s awake now.”
“Do you think she’s … remembered?” Why did that thought make his gut churn?
Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s only one way to find out.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Adam’s knock on the mystery woman’s door resulted in a soft, “Come in.”
He took a deep breath and slowly walked inside. How had Lucy managed to make this sound like a good idea? And why in the bloody hell had he gone out to the gardens and picked a few roses before he’d knocked on the door? That was unlike him.
Lady Magnolia was sitting at the writing desk, a quill in her hand. She wore a soft pink gown that she’d apparently borrowed from Lucy, and her hair was up in a knot on the top of her head. The bandage remained on her forehead. She turned to Adam and gave him a dazzling smile.
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
There was his answer. Apparently, she had not remembered.
“Good morning,” he replied, his throat dry. He hated like hell pretending he was someone he was not.
She glanced over at him and her eyes went wide when she spotted the flowers. “Are those for me?”
“They are,” he replied, crossing over to the desk and handing them to her.
She put them to her nose and breathed them in deeply. Then she laid them next to the paper. “Thank you very much,” she said shyly. “I must look a fright without Esmeralda to fix my hair.” She self-consciously touched a hand to her head.
“You look breathtaking.” He reached out and pushed a curl behind her ear.
Their gazes locked and Adam took a step back.
Apparently ready to change the subject, she tapped the quill against her cheek. “I cannot imagine why Mother hasn’t come for me yet.”
Adam cleared his throat and repeated the story Lucy had invented. “She, er, wanted to ensure you’re feeling better. Dr. Archibald said you shouldn’t go home until you’re entirely healed.” Of course that made little sense, but he hoped she didn’t examine it too closely.
“I do hate to lie abed all day,” she said with a sigh. “But I’m up writing letters to the chef and the caretaker, and Esmeralda and—” She fluttered a hand in the air. “Do you know I thought Lucy was your sister but she told me last night that she’s your sister-in-law?”
“Yes, that’s true,” he began. “Wait. Letters? What letters?”
“For the wedding plans, of course.” She turned her attention back to the paper in front of her.
“Perhaps you should wait and—”
“Wait? There’s no time to wait, Peter. You cannot imagine how difficult it is to plan a wedding of the size and scale that ours is meant to be.” She shook her head.