The Unforgettable Hero (3 page)

Adam scrubbed his hand through his hair. He was only glad to know that the lady was awake and obviously speaking. “Is she all right?”

“She’s got quite a bump on her head, but I suppose we won’t know for certain how she is until Dr. Archibald examines her.”

Adam nodded. “Of course.” He strode toward the window at the end of the corridor. “Magnolia Makepeace.” He couldn’t place the name either, but he was hardly an expert on London Society. “Do you think she’s from the country?”

Lucy pushed a curl behind her ear. “It’s possible. But even then, you’d think I’d be acquainted with her relatives. Though I wasn’t about to ask her to recite her family tree under the circumstances. I think it’s best to leave her to rest until the doctor arrives.”

“Agreed.” Adam cleared his throat. “Did she mention where her lady’s maid was?”

Lucy plucked at a fold in her skirt. “No. She didn’t seem to even remember her lady’s maid’s name, which is also odd,” she added. “But then again, she’s suffered quite a shock. I doubt she’d be pleased to know that her trusted servant ran off.” Lucy sucked in her breath. “Oh, you don’t think her servant was involved in pushing her down and taking her coin, do you? She doesn’t have a reticule.”

Adam shook his head. Leave it to his imaginative sister-in-law to come up with an outlandish scenario. “No. I saw the coach that hit her and there was no sign of a lady’s maid. Nor a reticule for that matter.”

Lucy shrugged. “At any rate, I informed her that the doctor is on the way and I begged her to rest before he arrives.”

Adam unrolled his sleeves. “That sounds sensible.”

Lucy rocked back and forth on her heels and gave Adam a mischievous look. “But I believe she wants to see
you.
”

Adam looked twice. “Me?” He pointed at himself.

“Yes.” Lucy nodded, her curls bouncing. “She was carrying on about someone named Peter, but I got the distinct impression that she meant you.”

Adam frowned again. “Peter? That’s odd. Besides, I never told her my name. She wasn’t awake.”

“Which explains why she doesn’t know you’re named Adam.” Lucy laughed and nodded toward the lady’s bedchamber. “Go on then. She won’t bite. At least I don’t think she will.”

Adam tugged at his cravat. “Do you truly think it’s a good idea? She should rest.”

“I don’t see what it can hurt. She’s perfectly decent. And I don’t see how much more rest one can get while lying in a bed. I assume she wants to thank you for saving her life.”

Adam swallowed hard. He hadn’t saved her life. He was no hero. He’d never been a hero. Never would be one. No, that role was reserved entirely for Derek.

At Lucy’s second insistent nod, Adam reluctantly agreed. He squared his shoulders and made his way to the bedchamber door, where he paused momentarily, his hand arrested above the handle. He took a deep breath, then pushed the handle and swung open the door.

She was sitting up against pillows. Lucy had managed to place a bandage on her forehead but otherwise, her long dark hair hung down around her shoulders and she blinked at him with big, dark doe-like eyes. Adam sucked in a breath. She was … well, breathtaking. And
that
was a horrible thing to be thinking about a poor young woman who could easily have lost her life earlier today.

He closed the door behind him and took a few tentative steps toward her. She gave him a dazzling smile and he felt … aroused. Good God.
That
was inappropriate.

She tilted her head to the side. “There you are.”

He eyed her carefully, his brow furrowing. “You remember me?”

Her dark eyes widened. “Of course I remember you.”

The furrow deepened. How was that possible? The woman had been completely insensible when they’d—ahem—met. “You do?” he prodded.

“Yes, of course. You’re my betrothed, after all.”

CHAPTER SIX

“Your betrothed!” Adam couldn’t keep the shock from his voice, though the words came out louder than he’d intended them to.

Her brow furrowed. “Yes, of course.”

“Have you lost your—” He stopped abruptly. The look on her face was quickly turning to fear. In that moment he realized she was entirely
serious.
And he needed to remain calm and not frighten her.

“Lost my what?” She searched his face.

Adam began backing away. “I think there’s been a mistake.”

She sat up, her back ramrod-straight, but the look of concern still creased the corners of her eyes. “Mistake? What mistake?”

He studied her face carefully. “What is your name?”

A shadow of hurt crossed her pretty features. “You don’t remember the name of your future spouse?”

He swallowed again. How in the devil was he supposed to deal with this? “I’m not sure you remember the name of yours.”

She smiled at him and shook her head. “Oh, Peter, you’re always so droll.”

Peter? Who the hell is Peter?

“You’re Lady Magnolia Makepeace?” he asked, eyeing her as if she were some type of wild animal that might bolt at him at any moment.

“Of course I am.” She patted the coverlet and gave him a look that clearly indicated she was certain he’d taken leave of his senses. “And you’re Lord Peter Peregrine, the Duke of Loveridge.”

The Duke of Loveridge?

Bloody hell.

Adam braced his hand on the solid wood table near the door to ground himself. He hunched his shoulders, exhaled, and glanced up at the woman staring at him from beneath the sheets in his brother’s guest chamber. There were multiple problems here. First, he clearly was
not
the Duke of Loveridge. Second, there was no such man as the Duke of Loveridge. At least no man Adam had ever heard of. Adam might have been born a mere mister into a military family, but he’d met quite a lot of the aristocracy since his brother’s advent into their midst.

He narrowed his eyes on the pretty, insane woman. For clearly she
was
insane. Either that or the hit to her head had been worse than they’d first feared. He opened his mouth to argue, to explain that he was not and never would be a duke, let alone her betrothed.

And then it hit him. He snapped his mouth shut. If he was not the Duke of Loveridge and she thought he was, perhaps
she
was not Lady Magnolia Makepeace. He slapped his palm against his forehead. Of course. It made perfect sense, hence Lucy never having heard of such a lady before.

A hundred thoughts flew through his mind. Was she a criminal? Someone after Derek’s money? Was she a liar, pretending to be someone she was not? He quickly discarded that notion. He’d seen the carriage strike her with his own eyes. That had certainly not been faked. She might be a crazy person but more likely she had suffered a head injury from the accident. It was best to leave her be until the doctor could examine her. Adam spoke softly, carefully, as if speaking to a small excitable child. “Would you excuse me for a moment, my lady?”

She waved her hand in the air. “Yes, Peter, of course.”

Adam sprinted from the room. He nearly knocked Lucy over, as the young duchess had obviously been listening at the door. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he grabbed Lucy by the shoulders and pulled her into an alcove.

“Do you know any such man as the Duke of Loveridge?” he asked.

Lucy scrunched up her nose. “The Duke of Loveridge? There’s no such person. Not in England at least.”

There, confirmation. Adam let his hands drop to his sides. Lucy had been born into the world of the English aristocrats. She knew positively everyone.

Adam rubbed a hand across his forehead. “She seems to think I’m the Duke of Loveridge, some chap named Peter Peregrine, and she’s Lady Magnolia Makepeace, my betrothed.”

Lucy’s different-colored eyes widened, and she blinked rapidly. “Peter Peregrine? Why, I never—Betrothed!”

“Yes.” Adam grimaced. “Betrothed.”

Lucy scanned his face. “You don’t suppose Lady Magnolia Makepeace is not her name, either, do you?”

Adam scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck and groaned. “I have
every
reason to believe it’s not her name.”

Lucy slid down onto the light-blue cushion of the window seat that was built into the wall. “Oh, dear. This is quite bad.”

Adam braced a hand against the wall. “You’ll get no argument from me on that quarter.”

“She must have hit her head harder than we thought.” Lucy tapped a finger against her cheek again.

Adam nodded once. “Agreed.”

Lucy half rose from the seat. “Did you tell her your name isn’t Peter?”

Adam crossed his arms and slowly shook his head. “No. Nor that I’m not a duke or any sort of lord. I didn’t want to frighten her.”

Lucy lowered herself back onto the seat and tugged at her fingers. “That’s probably for the best. What are we to do?”

Adam sighed. “I have no idea.”

The doorknocker sounded from the floor below. Lucy stuck a finger in the air. “Oh, thank heavens. The doctor!”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Despite his name, Dr. Archibald was in possession of a full head of hair, gray though it was. He was also in possession of an unfashionable mustache for good measure. He was brisk and efficient, with a business-like air that was no doubt severely tested when Lucy ushered him into the drawing room and informed him that their patient
might
just be touched in the head.

In response to the good doctor’s confused expression, Adam launched into a retelling of how the young woman had come to be ensconced in the duke’s guest chamber with a large lump on her head. Dr. Archibald nodded and grunted a few times but otherwise remained silent. He’d set down his dark-brown bag that no doubt contained all sorts of doctorly instruments and waggled his mustache at Adam upon occasion. Finally, Adam finished his tale and Lucy jumped into the ensuing silence.

She paced in front of the doctor and wrung her hands. “So you see, she hit her head when she fell and now she believes she is Lady Magnolia Makepeace and my brother-in-law here is the Duke of Loveridge.”

The doctor’s mustache twitched. “The Duke of
what?
”

“Loveridge,” Adam replied with a completely straight face, despite the urge to laugh.

The doctor’s bushy eyebrows met over his dark eyes. “There is no such man.”

“Precisely,” Lucy said with a flourish of her hands.

“That is curious, indeed,” the doctor replied. “May I see her?”

“Of course,” Lucy replied before leading the doctor up the staircase while Adam remained below.

After the better part of half an hour, Dr. Archibald returned with Lucy trailing him. He reentered the drawing room where Adam had remained and tugged at his lapels. “She says her name is Lady Magnolia Makepeace.”

Adam nodded. “Yes, we know. But we have reason to believe no such lady exists.”

Dr. Archibald cleared his throat. “She says she is engaged to the Duke of Loveridge.”

Lucy nodded vigorously. “Yes, we know, and of course no such man exists.”

The doctor inclined his head, a skeptical look on his face. “She says her betrothed lives here.”

“She thinks
I
am her betrothed.” Adam rubbed the back of his neck. “And I do live here, temporarily. But I’m certainly not the Duke of Whathaveyou.”

“I see.” The doctor paced toward the door, his mustache furiously twitching. He rubbed his chin before turning back to face the other two. “I’ve seen this before.”

“You have?” Adam and Lucy replied simultaneously.

The doctor tugged at the ends of his mustache. “Yes. A severe blow to the head can cause a temporary memory loss. It’s not entirely uncommon.”

“How long will it last?” Adam asked.

“There’s absolutely no telling,” the doctor replied. “It could last a few hours. It could last a few days. I’ve read of some cases that lasted years.”

“Years!” Adam’s jaw dropped open.

“Yes,” the doctor replied. “But that would be a rare case indeed.”

Lucy shook her head. “But she must have family. Someone will be looking for her.”

The doctor nodded. “Let’s hope she regains her memory sooner than later.”

“In the meantime, what should we do?” Adam asked.

Lucy nodded. “Yes. I don’t see how we can notify her family if she can’t remember who she truly is.”

“That is a problem,” Dr. Archibald agreed.

“What do you suggest, Doctor?” Adam asked.

The doctor pulled off his spectacles and rubbed the lenses against the side of his coat. “There’s only one thing to do.”

“Yes?” Adam prompted, furrowing his brow.

“Pretend with her.”

Adam’s eyes widened. “Pretend with—I thought you would say we should calmly explain what’s happened to her and ask her if she can remember who she is.”

The doctor closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t recommend that.”

Adam stared at the man as if he’d lost his mind. “Why not? Isn’t it the most direct approach?”

“The most direct approach is not always the preferred one, young man,” Dr. Archibald announced as he placed his spectacles back on his nose.

Lucy cleared her throat. “So you’re saying we should pretend she is Lady Magnolia and Adam is the Duke of Loveridge?”

Dr. Archibald grasped his lapels and nodded. “Precisely, Your Grace.”

Adam pressed a knuckle to his forehead, where a headache was quickly forming. “That’s ridiculous! Are you saying I should agree to be her betrothed?”

The doctor took a deep long-suffering breath. “I’m saying you should agree to
pretend
to be her betrothed … temporarily. If she feels comfortable and remains calm it may hasten the return of her memory. Pretend with her and it may well help her to recall the truth faster. That is my advice.” The doctor turned to Lucy and bowed. “Thank you for your hospitality, Your Grace. I’ll see myself out.”

Lucy smiled and nodded to the man. “Thank you, Doctor. We appreciate your expertise in this matter.”

Dr. Archibald bent to retrieve his bag and promptly left the room while Adam turned back to Lucy with his hands on his hips. “You’re going to let him go? Just like that?”