The Unforgettable Hero (6 page)

Her blush returned with a vengeance. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. You must want me back on my way as soon as possible.”

“No. No. You misunderstand me.” He smiled at her. “You’re welcome here as long as you like.”

“And I hope you don’t mind, but I sneaked downstairs to the library last night and borrowed a book.” She nodded toward the bedside table where the works of Shakespeare sat.

“You’re welcome to borrow whatever book you like. As long as you promise to stay away from carriages in the street,” he said.

She laughed at that. “We know what we are, but know not what we may be,” she quoted.

Adam smiled at her. Odd that she would choose that particular phrase when she didn’t remember her identity. But Lucy was right. This young lady was intelligent, soft-spoken, and well read. She could quote Shakespeare, for God’s sake. She must be a member of the
ton.
Another reason he needed to keep his distance from her. He was merely a mister. A poor relation to a duke. He smiled at her softly. “I think you should rest today, Lady Magnolia.”

He turned toward the door.

“Peter?” she asked tentatively.

He turned back to her, his fingers on the handle again. “Yes?”

“Do you think you might consider calling me Maggie? When it’s just us, I mean.”

He nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yes, Maggie. I would.” He liked that. It was so much less formal than Lady Magnolia.

Adam pulled open the door and made his way out. He shut the door and leaned back against it, expelling his breath. Lady Magnolia—Maggie—was actually quite nice. She seemed kind, thoughtful, and intelligent. She was also exceedingly beautiful. He grimaced. It was just like him. The one time he met a lady he actually had an affinity for and she was ailing and had no clue as to her own identity. That was the only reason she suffered his company, too. She believed him to be a duke. And not just a duke. Her betrothed. He shook his head. If her memory suddenly returned, she’d no doubt run screaming from him.

He rolled his eyes. Yes. Taking her to a Society ball this evening was a
brilliant
idea.

But something she’d said had sparked
his
memory if not her own. She’d mentioned a book. The papers he’d gathered in the street had seemed to be part of a story. He’d left them in a stack somewhere downstairs. Perhaps he hadn’t studied them closely enough. Perhaps the story held a clue to her identity after all.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Adam had spent the better part of an hour that afternoon looking for those blasted papers to no avail. They were not sitting on the table in the drawing rooms where he was certain he’d left them, and even after he’d inquired with both the housekeeper and the butler, the pages were still nowhere to be found. Apparently, none of the servants recalled moving them.

In the end, he’d been forced to give up the search and leave for his appointment with the gentleman who had the rooms to lease. The appointment had taken far longer than he’d planned. He’d returned home with little time to spare to prepare for the ball this evening. He hadn’t had a chance to further search for Maggie’s manuscript. In the end, he’d hoped she’d be recognized at the ball tonight. The papers would have to wait until tomorrow.

*   *   *

The duke’s carriage pulled to a stop in front of a grand town house that evening. Maggie sat inside the coach with Peter, his brother, Derek, and Lucy. Maggie was outfitted in a glorious gown of pale peach that Lucy had presented her with this afternoon. It worried Maggie that she didn’t remember the gown; then again, as Lucy reminded her, she’d sustained quite a serious blow to the head. “Your mother informs me this is one of your favorites,” Lucy had said with such a confident, happy look on her face that Maggie didn’t dare question it.

“I’m concerned about Mother,” Maggie had said to Lucy. “She’s never ill.”

“Yes, well, she was adamant that you stay far away from the house. She doesn’t want you catching whatever she’s got on top of your injury.”

“I completely understand,” Maggie replied. “And I certainly don’t want to worry her further. I can only imagine how worried
she
must have been when she learned of my accident.”

Blushing, Maggie didn’t add that she was actually happy to remain in Peter’s company. She dared a glance at him. Why couldn’t she remember their first kiss? He’d stolen one of course, when he’d proposed, but for the life of her she couldn’t recall the details. That was a shame. Her head was still fuzzy. But no doubt her memory would return at any moment. She glanced up at the facade of the fine house in front of them. She didn’t recall this location, either, but perhaps she’d never been to a ball here before.

Lucy, that dear, seemed to like the Findleys immensely. That was all Maggie needed to know. She glanced over at Lucy. Peter’s sister-in-law was a beautiful lady. Her husband, Derek, was an enormous man who looked a great deal like Peter only seemed to be about twice his size. Derek was indeed quite handsome, but Maggie much preferred her betrothed’s slender build.

“My friends Cassandra and Jane will be here this evening. I’m so looking forward to introducing you to them,” Lucy said, snapping Maggie from her thoughts.

She searched her memory. “Cassandra? And Jane?” The names weren’t familiar.

“Yes, Cassandra Swift, the Countess of Swifdon, and Mrs. Jane Upton, the future Countess of Upbridge.”

No. Neither name was familiar, and neither were the titles. That was odd. Maggie didn’t want to let on that her memory was still so poor. It might worry Lucy further, and she’d been so kind to Maggie.

“I look forward to meeting them both,” Maggie said with a bright smile on her face.

Peter was quiet, but she surreptitiously glanced at him again as she’d been doing the entire ride to the party. She’d caught him looking at her once and blushed. He’d smiled at her and then reverted his gaze out the window. My, but he was handsome, and after their talk this morning she’d decided he was kindhearted as well. He’d been so nice to her.

The coach came to a stop, and a footman opened the door and let out the stairs. Derek alighted first and helped down his wife. Then Peter alighted and turned back to assist Maggie. She blushed when he took her hand. Oh, perhaps it was better that Mother wasn’t here to see this.

As soon as Maggie settled her slippers onto the ground, Peter offered his arm and she took it. They followed Derek and Lucy to the queue where the guests were waiting to enter the ballroom. Odd that Peter, the duke, should follow his brother.

Lucy scanned the crowd. “Do you see anyone you know, Lady Magnolia?” she asked in what Maggie could only describe as an overly loud voice.

Peter elbowed his sister-in-law. Lucy shrugged.

That was also odd indeed.

Maggie looked about, but no one in the sea of faces seemed familiar to her. Panic filled her chest. She should know these people, shouldn’t she? All of these people. Most of these people at least.

The queue had barely begun to move when Lucy grabbed Maggie’s hand, her other hand atop her coiffure. “Lady Magnolia, won’t you come with me to the retiring room? I find I am having a crisis with my hairpins.”

Maggie frowned. Besides the hand planted atop her head, Lucy’s hair looked perfectly in order. “Now? Before we’re introduced?”

Lucy squeezed her wrist. “Yes, please. I do so need your help.”

Oh, dear, perhaps there was underlying mayhem in Lucy’s coiffure after all. Maggie had little choice but to accompany the duchess into the house, where they wended their way through corridors full of polished marble floors until they came to the ladies’ retiring room. Lucy certainly seemed to know her way around the Findleys’ home.

“I don’t recall ever being here before,” Maggie said, still frowning as they entered the large room. “It’s the oddest feeling.”

A few other ladies greeted Lucy, who made a show of stationing herself in front of a looking glass and plucking at the pins in her hair, which continued to look perfectly fine to Maggie.

“This is Lady Magnolia Makepeace,” Lucy said, introducing Maggie to her friends.

The ladies greeted her with friendly smiles but they also narrowed their eyes on her as if they didn’t recognize her.

“Lucy, I don’t remember any of them or their names,” Maggie whispered moments later after Lucy had declared her coiffure was as sorted as it was going to be and announced that it was time to go in search of the gentlemen.

“They didn’t seem to remember you, either,” Lucy whispered, a decided frown on her lovely face.

“What was that?” Maggie asked.

“Nothing.” Lucy grabbed Maggie’s hand and pulled her along after her, out of the retiring room. “I daresay Derek and Ad—er, Peter, have been announced by now.”

The two ladies made their way downstairs to the ballroom. Lucy dragged Maggie along in her wake as she searched for her husband and brother-in-law. “There they are!” she declared, pointing toward a small group on the sidelines of the dancing.

Maggie looked up to see not only Derek and Peter but also a tall handsome blond man, an equally good-looking blond woman, and a well-matched brunette couple.

As soon as the two women came to join the small group, Lucy flourished a hand toward Maggie. “Lord and Lady Swifdon, may I present Lady Magnolia Makepeace?”

The blond woman gave Lucy a quick furtive glance before turning her attention to Maggie. “It’s a pleasure, Lady Magnolia,” Lady Swifdon said. “And I do hope you’ll call me Cass as all my friends do.”

“And I am Julian,” the good-looking blond man announced, bowing to Maggie.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lord and Lady Swifdon.” Maggie curtsied to the friendly couple before turning her attention back to Lucy, where she was quickly introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Upton, the brunette couple, who each in turn insisted she call them Garrett and Jane. Jane paused in her endeavor of munching on a teacake to greet Maggie warmly. They all seemed quite nice but Maggie had never met them before, she was sure of it. Why had she never met people who were obviously Peter’s good friends?

“Likewise, it’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” she said to the group. “Have you all known Peter long?”

“Peter?” Julian’s brow furrowed.

His wife cleared her throat loudly. “Yes.
Peter,
” she repeated in a warning tone.

“His Grace?” Maggie clarified, giving Julian a hopeful look.

Garrett began coughing. Jane slapped her husband on the back a bit too hard. Lucy elbowed Garrett. There was certainly a great deal of elbowing happening here this evening. It was as if they were all in on a jest that Maggie knew nothing of. She tugged nervously on the strings to her borrowed reticule.

“Oh, yes. Of course. We’ve known him for many years,” Julian hurried to say.

“Indeed,” Garrett added while being glared at by his wife.

A waltz began to play. Peter stepped forward and offered his arm. “Lady Magnolia, may I have this dance?”

“Of course!” She grabbed his muscled forearm as if it were a lifeline, happy to leave the strange little group. She’d had enough uncomfortable conversation for one evening. Not to mention the fact that she was greatly looking forward to waltzing with her betrothed. The Peter she’d come to know over the last two days in his house was different from the Peter she thought she knew. The Peter of her memory was a duke, arrogant, authoritative, always in control. But the Peter she’d come to know stopped by her bedchamber and asked how she was doing. He brought her roses and tucked hair behind her ear. He’d even made her laugh when she’d been frightened and felt alone. Then he’d agreed to call her Maggie even though she knew he didn’t like informality.

Peter spun her around on the dance floor and Maggie completely forgot the awkward conversation she’d been engaged in moments before.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Peter asked, his green eyes studying her intently.

“I am,” she replied, averting her gaze. “Though I…” She bit her lip and glanced away.

“What? What is it?”

“I wonder why everyone isn’t treating you with the respect due your rank.”

Peter missed a step in the dance and Maggie had to catch his upper arm to straighten him. She pulled back her hand quickly.

“My apologies, my lady. I, er, well, with friends I’ve always been quite informal,” he said.

Maggie nodded. She didn’t remember that about him but then again she didn’t seem to remember much about him. It was all so odd. Her head was beginning to pound. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to come here this evening after all.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying that you are breathtaking this evening,” Peter said.

Maggie pressed her smiling lips together. Ah,
there
was the charming.

It turned out that Peter was actually a marvelous dancer, despite that one misstep. He was also a delightful companion, making her laugh and keeping her entertained with comments about the other dancers and the ball in general. By the time their waltz was nearly finished, Maggie was glancing at him from beneath her lashes and hoping that they would have a chance to be alone this evening.

When the dance came to an end, Peter led her back to the sidelines. As they made their way toward their friends, a blur in blue bumped into Maggie.

“I beg your pardon,” a blond lady said just before she looked up at Maggie and her eyes widened. “Cecelia?”

Maggie frowned. “No, I—”

The woman narrowed her gaze on her. “Cecelia, is that you?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Cecelia? Was that her name? Adam searched her face. If the name sparked a memory, her countenance did not betray it. Not at present.

She shook her head. “No … I … Have we met?” she said to the young woman who was studying her face.

The woman cocked her head to the side and frowned. “No. I suppose not. You simply reminded me of someone else. Someone I used to know. I apologize for the mistake.”

The young woman picked up her skirts, turned, and drifted back into the crowd, but Adam made a mental note of what she was wearing so he could point her out to Lucy later. Perhaps they could find her again and learn some answers.