Chapter 4 #2
Alaric ran a hand through his hair. “Your story is easily verified and proved. His story is not.”
“I will not let you abandon him.” Her eyes were like steel.
This woman is a force of nature. Why were they living separate lives? Surely they should have been partners. Why was he in Bath while she was elsewhere? It made no sense.
“I have no intention of doing so. But there is something here, some piece that I cannot see, and that troubles me. There is too much we do not know.” Alaric could feel a pressure building in his head, and he gently massaged his scar.
“Perhaps as my memories are restored, more will reveal itself, but for now…”
“Then what are you proposing?” Catherine looked at him, her blue eyes dancing in the sunlight.
“You and Oliver should remain here with me while we try to untangle this situation. The circumstances raise more questions than I have answers for. I do not like it.” Alaric felt the pressure in his head ease.
“I am vulnerable, and I remember enough to know that there are those in the ton who would exploit that weakness in me.”
“You think I would do that to you?” There was an odd note to her voice that Alaric could not quite trust.
“No.” He shook his head vehemently and regretted it as it made his head ache and nausea creep through his stomach. “I do not. But I cannot rule out that someone may mean me harm and, by extension, seek to harm you. I do not wish that to happen.”
“I see.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of the sofa.
“More to the point, I think you would be more useful here.” Alaric smiled at her.
“Is that a demand, dear Duke?” Her eyes narrowed at him, and he saw her shoulders stiffen.
He wondered if he had somehow managed to smile wrong.
Perhaps I should practice? He had thought that he remembered how to do such things, but perhaps he had been mistaken.
“You need not call me Duke, I am your husband after all.” He frowned at her. “And no, it is not a demand. It is a request.”
“What if I refuse?” She canted her head toward him, and Alaric could not help the feeling that she was testing him somehow.
He waved a hand in the air and attempted to smile again, hoping that this time it would be more successful.
“Then I suppose I will have to manage without you. In any case, I think it would be best if you remained here until the morning. There are only a few hours of sunlight remaining, and traveling by carriage at night seems a danger that is best avoided. After all, it was a carriage accident that took my memories from me. I have no wish for one to take yours as well.”
Or your life. The thought made his blood run cold, but he kept it from his face. He did not want to frighten her.
She looked at him, and he could practically hear her thoughts turning in her head. Alaric met her gaze. “I will not force you to stay, Catherine, but I hope you will.”
“In truth, Your Grace, your presence here might help the Duke recover his memories more quickly,” the physician added.
She nodded slowly and stood. Alaric stood as well, sensing this was the correct thing to do. “I will stay, but only because I want answers too. Once we have them, we will go back to how things were. Though I will need to have some things sent up from London.”
Alaric felt his heart soar at her words and decided to chance a smile. “Of course.”
Catherine bit her lip, looked at Alaric, and then back at the door. “I should make sure Oliver is all right.”
“I will have one of the maids make up a room for him. There are several guest rooms not too far from our quarters.” Alaric looked at Mr. Wilkins, who nodded.
Catherine’s eyes widened, and spots of color appeared on her cheeks. “I think it would be best if you had the Duchess’s quarters prepared for Oliver and me.”
“If that is what you wish, I did not want to presume you would give up your quarters for the boy.” Alaric canted his head toward her, unsure why her cheeks were flushed and noting the way she seemed unable to look at him.
“Though if he is in the Duchess’s rooms, it will make it easier for you to check on him.
There is a passage that connects my rooms to those. ”
“You misunderstand me. I... I will sleep in my own chambers, and Oliver will share them with me,” Catherine replied, her voice firm though Alaric thought he heard a little breathlessness. “I think that will be the most suitable arrangement.”
Alaric’s frown deepened. After all, they were married; why should they not share a bed? He was fairly certain a husband and wife shared a bed.
“I shall ensure this is arranged, Your Grace.” Mr. Wilkins inclined his head toward her. “Mr. Templeton, I shall leave it in your hands.”
A footman nodded and vanished out of sight.
Alaric took a step toward the door. “I usually have dinner at around six; will that suit you and Oliver?”
“You want us to have dinner together?” The surprise in her tone was clear.
“I see no reason not to. It makes the servants’ lives easier after all.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “I am not particularly attached to the time that I eat, so if you are used to dining at another time, I can adjust things accordingly.”
“Six will be fine.” She swallowed. “Though I did not bring anything to change into. I only have traveling clothes and day clothes with me.”
“Why would you need to change for dinner?” Alaric asked, his brow furrowing.
There was a beat of silence, and he thought he saw her lips quirk upward, but he could not be sure. “You really have lost your memory.”
“I have.” His heart sped up, and he wanted to make her smile broaden. “Though I do not think I appreciated just how much I had lost before now.”
Her eyes widened, lips parting slightly. Alaric’s heart beat so hard and fast, he was sure she would be able to hear it. “I will see you at six.”
Catherine tilted her head toward him, and the scent of lavender drifted over. Alaric inhaled deeply and felt the urge to take her hand and press it to his lips, but he held back. “I look forward to it.”
Catherine turned from him, and Alaric felt his heart speed up and took a step toward her before he even realized. “Catherine.”
Her blue eyes flicked toward him. “Yes?”
Alaric felt a flush spread across his face. “You have not been to the castle before, have you?”
“No.”
“Then you will not know where you are going.” He gestured to the door. “It is a little like a warren in this place. I would be happy to escort you to the kitchens.”
“I am surprised a man like you knows where they are.” Her smile was sharp, teasing, but it was still a smile.
“The accident did more than take my memory. It has affected my senses, particularly my sense of smell. But it has also given me rather odd cravings that strike at the most unexpected times. I saw no reason for the staff to suffer for my whims, and I did not wish to keep waking them up at all hours of the night.” He ran a hand across his jaw, feeling the stubble once more and noticing the way her eyes lingered on it.
“It seemed the most sensible thing to do would be to procure my own food.”
She said nothing and simply looked at him in a way that made him feel like she was gazing into him, as if he were a book she was studying.
“Speaking of which, I find myself in want of a snack, and as you are heading that way anyway, I may as well save a servant the job of escorting you.” Alaric tilted his head, making it a question.
“I suppose that makes sense.” Catherine’s hand twitched, but she did not reach for him. “Thank you.”
“It would be my pleasure.” Alaric had never felt the truth of those words more, or if he had, he could not remember them.
With a sense of triumph filling his chest, Alaric fell into step beside his wife. The smell of lavender wafted over him again, and for the first time since his accident, Alaric realized he was quite grateful for the changes it had brought to his senses.