The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga) (20 page)

“Wentworth,” she said, tearing her eyes off Bridgeton and looking
directly at her brother. “May I please have a word with you in private?”

They excused themselves from the drawing room and made their way to
Wentworth’s study.

“Are you feeling ill? Is this too much for you?” her brother asked with
concern.

“No. Thank you. I am fine. I wish to speak with my husband in private.”

Wentworth gasped. “Private. I would rather—”

“Yes. I’m quite certain you would rather chaperone the meeting. But I
must speak with him privately. We have much to discuss. Please.”

“Very well,” the duke muttered. “I will send him to you. And would
someone please tell me when you became head of my household?”

Wentworth did not wait for an answer as he knew one would not be
forthcoming.

***

While Amelia stood alone in her brother’s study, she inhaled and
exhaled slow and steady breaths, trying to calm her nerves. What did one say to
the man she had married when she did not remember him? Would he be angry with
her for what Wentworth had done to him? Her brother had imprisoned him in
Newgate. Not something most gentlemen would forgive.

“Amelia,” Wentworth said as he opened the study door to let Bridgeton
enter. “I will be outside if you need me.”

“Please, Wentworth,” Amelia pleaded. “There is no need for you to play
guard. I am perfectly safe with my husband.”

“Regardless, I’ll be here,” Wentworth said as he shut the door, giving
her no chance to protest.

“I must apologize for Wentworth’s actions,” Amelia said as she sat on
the edge of one of the two chairs facing the desk, her back stiff and straight.
She gestured to the chair beside hers. “Please sit.”

“Thank you. There is no need to apologize for the duke’s actions. He
only has your best interests at heart.” Bridgeton sat down and stretched his
long legs out.

His show of ease and comfort did not fool her. One glance at his hands
told her they trembled. Knowing he was also nervous calmed her. “Bridgeton—”

“Please,” he interrupted, “call me William.”

“William,” Amelia said, “I am at a loss here.”

“Amelia,” he said, pulling his legs in and pivoting in his seat so he
faced her. His kind eyes looked directly into hers. “We are both at a loss. You
have been through a terrible ordeal. You do not remember me, although I...” He
closed his eyes for a moment. And when they opened again, the anguish she
witnessed took her breath away.

“William. I am so sorry. I can see I’m causing you terrible pain,”
Amelia blurted out as she sprang up and began pacing the room. “I didn’t even
remember my child Olivia. I want to remember. I try, but when I try too hard my
head hurts so badly I become nauseous and I must stop. All I know is what I’ve
been told. That my family found me in the stream, unconscious.” She paused at
the window. As she stared outside into the formal gardens, her vision blurred.
“I want to remember what happened. I want to remember you. I want to know it
wasn’t you, and I
need
to remember my life, our life.”

***

William sat frozen in his seat. The sight of his beloved wife, her
shoulders hunched forward and shaking, tore at his heart. He knew without a
doubt she cried. He was torn. Should he go to her and comfort her? Or would it
make matters worse?

Without waiting for a revelation he rose from the chair and hurried to
Amelia. Without another thought he wrapped his arms around her waist and held
her close. It took but a moment before she leaned back into him and rested her
head against his chest. William signed with relief. He had been so afraid she
would reject his consoling.

“Amelia, my dear, I am sorry for what you’re going through.” William
rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. “I will do everything in my power
to make things right.” He groaned. “I need your help though.”

Amelia turned around and buried her face in his chest. Her loud sobs
made him weak in the knees. He would do anything to take away her pain. William
whispered soothing words to her while he stroked her back.

The sound of her crying, the warmth of her body pressed to his. The
silky feel of her dress sensitized the palm of his hand. The beat of her heart
joined his in perfect rhythm.

William had no idea how long they stayed together. It seemed like
forever and yet no time at all. Eventually Amelia pulled away. “Please forgive
me for crying all over your jacket. I’m not usually such a watering pot.”

William reached inside his pocket and handed her his handkerchief,
which she took and used to dry her eyes. “No need to apologize.”

“Thank you,” she said.

And just like that they were back to being polite strangers. William’s
heart ached at the loss. A moment ago, he had wanted to believe things could go
back to normal. He wanted to believe his wife knew and loved him.

“Will you stay here in the duke’s home, or will you come home with me?”
William held his breath as he awaited his wife’s answer.

Several emotions flashed across her face. Uncertainty, worry, and the
one that shocked him to the core––terror, the sheer terror he glimpsed in her
eyes. The fact that she feared him made him feel ill.

“Take all the time you need,” he urged, his heart breaking. “I did not
mean to press the issue. I thought if you came home it might help you
remember.”

“Yes. I understand. Wentworth has hired runners to protect me and our
property. There is no reason they could not accompany me and Olivia home with
you,” Amelia said as she opened the door. She turned to her brother, waiting
beyond the door. “Your Grace, may we have a word with you?”

William watched, his breath suspended in his lungs, as Wentworth
entered the study and took his seat at his desk. He sat up straight and glared
right at him. Intimidation would not work. William wanted his wife back and
would not leave without Amelia and their daughter.

One glance at Amelia, who sat beside him, her hands fidgeting with his
handkerchief, told him of her uncertainty. She spoke of wanting to go home with
him, but something about that also frightened her.

“Your Grace,” William began, as the silence in the room tortured him,
“I would like to ask your permission to take Amelia and Olivia home with me. I
believe Amelia’s memory will come back sooner if she gets back to her normal
daily routine.”

“Indeed you do. Yet I must disagree,” Wentworth replied curtly.

“Amelia has informed me you have hired guards. I presume Smythe is
overseeing the runners? They can guard Amelia just as well at my estate. I will
incur all costs.” William tried to think of anything he could say that would
convince Wentworth to agree.

“Please, Wentworth,” Amelia said. “I want to go home with my husband.
Even if I can never remember the past, I am still his wife. I must get back to
my life. Olivia and I will be perfectly safe with Bridgeton.”

William saw Wentworth struggle, which made him respect him all the
more. He truly loved his sister. “I give my consent.” Wentworth glared daggers
right at him. “Smythe will be reporting to me daily. If anything—”

“Nothing will happen,” William assured him. Amelia’s attacker would
have to go through him first. “She will be safe. You have my word.”

Wentworth said in warning, “You make damn sure nothing happens to her,
because if something does I will string you up and slice out your entrails.”

“Wentworth,” Amelia interjected, “you will do no such thing. Besides, I
will be safe.”

***

The carriage ride to Spencer Estate took longer than normal. Not only
did Mr. Smythe and his dozen Bow Street Runners accompany William, Amelia and
Olivia back to Spencer Estate; her brothers, Wentworth and Sebastian did as
well. Having her brothers with her lessened Amelia’s anxiety. As much as she
believed moving back in with the earl was in her best interests, she worried.
Not so much for her safety, but for Olivia’s. Amelia thought about leaving
Olivia in Emma’s care, but when it came time to go she could not leave her
behind. For her daughter’s sake, life needed to get back to normal. Amelia and
Olivia needed to be together to work on their bond as mother and daughter.

Upon arriving, the staff, dressed impeccably in the earl’s colors,
greeted them. Amelia wanted to believe they treated her the same as before, but
the uncertainty in their eyes and the stiffness in their behavior did little to
hide their apprehension. She did not blame them. After all, someone wanted her
dead. Perhaps they believed her being in residence put them all in danger. No
wonder they were unsettled by her arrival.

After the nursemaid took Olivia to the nursery, Amelia’s maid, who had
accompanied them as well, led Amelia to her chambers. Amelia dismissed her
because she needed time alone to take in her surroundings. How odd that the
room seemed warm and familiar when she did not remember anything else. The
physician said that things from her past would come back in bits and pieces.
This must be one of the pieces.

This room must hold good memories for her. She had been afraid to come
here, but now, her fears were subsiding. She had nothing to fear inside these
walls.

Amelia
stretched out on the pink-colored chaise and enjoyed the warmth from the
blazing fireplace. Her heart slowed. For the first time in days her muscles
relaxed and peace descended around her. Amelia could not fight her heavy
eyelids any longer, and she fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“How is she?” William’s grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Spencer
asked, as William entered the drawing room. How he loved his grandmother.
Actually, she was more his mother than grandmother as his mother had died of
infection a fortnight after giving birth to him. When his father died of a
broken heart only a year later, Geoffrey had inherited the earldom at the
tender age of three.

 “Grandmother.” William bowed before her, then bent and kissed her
wrinkled cheek. “Thank you for coming, but you did not have to leave London on
my account.”

“Nonsense. After your ordeal in Newgate, I had to witness with my own
eyes that you are well.” Her worried eyes looked him over from head to toe.
“You look tired. And would you please eat? You look as though a gust of wind could
topple you.”

“Yes, Grandmother, I will. Please tell me you did not travel alone.”

“Nonsense, me travel alone? My maid accompanied me. And my two most
trusted footmen.”

“You should have stayed in London with Elizabeth and Mary,” William
said. “Who will chaperone them for the rest of the Season?”

“Your aunt will. It is high time she took on the duty.”

William wished he could have been privy to that conversation between
his grandmother and his aunt who hated social functions. “I’m quite sure Amelia
will be happy to see you.”

“Do not tell fibs to an old lady. If Amelia does not remember you, it
is unlikely she will remember me. Now sit down and tell me what you plan to do
to remedy the situation.”

He took a seat across from his grandmother and pondered how he would
solve the dilemma of Amelia’s missing memory and how to catch the murderer
before he succeeded in his task. He hadn’t a clue. Then a thought came to mind.
“Please excuse me, Grandmother. I must attend to something.”

William hurried from the drawing room, ignoring his grandmother’s
concerned look and sought out Smythe, Wentworth, and Sebastian, who, low and
behold, were helping themselves to his brandy in his study. “I do not recall
opening up my study to you, Your Grace.”

“I did not think you would mind,” Wentworth said as he stood looking
out the double-paned window that overlooked the circular front drive.

William went on to explain his plan.

“You want to do
what
with my sister? Are you out of your bloody
mind?” Wentworth bellowed, which caused William to cringe. Not a good start.
“You want me to host a ball in honor of your marriage and invite the two
gentlemen we believe tried to kill my sister?”

William tried to sound confident in his plan. “This way we are in
control. The killer has no idea he is walking into a trap. And I believe with
all my heart it is the only way.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Wentworth turned and faced him with stormy
eyes. “If anything happens to her I will kill you with my bare hands.”

“If anything happens to her, I’ll kill myself,” William replied. “Now
if you will all excuse me, I need to explain things to my wife.”

As William entered his chambers his mind raced.

What was he doing?

Could he keep Amelia safe?

Did he really believe he could give his wife back her memory?

William knocked on the adjoining door that led into his wife’s
bedchamber. The sooner he told her of his plan the faster they could be in
London executing it.

“Amelia,” he spoke quietly as she lay on top of her chaise. Her eyes
were shut.

“I’m awake,” she replied. Amelia swung her legs over the side and sat
up. “I did sleep, but I awoke a short time ago.” She looked at him shyly and
his heart ached. “Is there something you want?”

“May we talk?”

William joined his wife on the chaise lounge; his weight caused the
cushion to sink. Her body slid close to his, and they touched. Instantly she
scooted away, and once again his heart broke.

“I had a conversation with Wentworth, Sebastian and Smythe. We believe
the best way to find your attacker is to bring him to you.”

He continued talking even though she gasped. “We will travel to London
and let everyone know your memory is missing.” Once again she gasped. “I believe
your attacker will not risk your memory returning, and he will try to silence
you.” William reached for her trembling hands. They were ice cold. He rubbed
them between his large warm ones. “Smythe and his men will keep you safe. It is
the only way to draw the killer out. We need to end this so we can get on with
our lives. Please say you’ll do this.”

Time ticked by in silence. Disappointed, William began to rise off the
chaise when Amelia finally spoke.

“I shall do whatever it takes.”

William did not know whether he was relieved or sickened by her reply.
He hated putting her in danger. But what other choice did they have? The killer
would come for her eventually. Why not forward the clock and catch him sooner
rather than later?

“My dear, I trust you will be ready to leave first thing in the
morning.” William bowed. “Until tomorrow.”

***

Once Bridgeton left her, Amelia lay back down on the chaise and closed
her weary eyes. She began counting the beats of her heart, but could not keep
up. Deep down inside she knew what her husband planned could work, might work
if the culprit did not see through the plan. Did she worry for her life? A
little, but she would do anything to keep those she loved safe. Because what if,
next time he attempted to kill her, he killed someone else as well? Someone she
loved.

***

Amelia entered the morning room at first light to find the place
bustling with people and voices. It appeared her whole family had come. She
should have known that not only would her brothers travel back to London with
her, but her mother, Emma, baby Hamilton, and Bella as well. In her quick look
around the room she spied Olivia, and her heart melted at the sight of her
adorable daughter sitting with her nursemaid. Seeing Olivia now, she wondered
how she could have forgotten she had a daughter. God did work in mysterious
ways.

A caravan of three carriages left Spencer Estate. Amelia rode with
Emma, Bella, her mother, and the Dowager Countess of Spencer. Olivia and
Hamilton rode with their nursemaids. The extra carriage housed their other
maids and luggage. The men rode on horseback.

Amelia’s breath caught in her throat when she glimpsed her husband in
his black riding garments. It made her wonder if she had reacted in a similar
way the first time she met him.

He was an imposing figure sitting on his black mount. And when he rode
he made it look effortless. Rider and horse seemed one. She could understand
how she became enamored with him, with his quiet nature, his wounded eyes and
soul. If memory served her correctly, he reminded her of Captain Rycroft. Not
in looks, but in almost everything else.

Why did she remember Captain Rycroft, who died almost two years ago,
and not her husband?

“My dear, are you feeling ill?” the Dowager Countess of Spencer asked.

“No,” Amelia replied, touched by her concern.

“Amelia,” Bella chimed in, “you made a moaning sound as though you were
in distress.”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Amelia said as her face heated up. “I did not
mean to worry any of you. I’m fine. Truly I am.”

“Now, now, daughter…” Her mother leaned forward and patted Amelia’s
hands that rested on her lap. Well, they didn’t rest exactly. Each hand
squeezed the life out of the other. Once her mother let go she flexed her
fingers to work out the cramps. “We are all concerned for you.”

“Mother, I’m fine. I’m getting glimpses and more glimpses into my
past––more each day.” Amelia made it sound better than it was. She had been
witnessing visions of her past, but not anything major.

“Amelia,” Emma interjected, “why didn’t you tell us? This is wonderful
news. Do you remember your wedding to Bridgeton?”

“Not exactly,” Amelia answered. She wished she had said nothing about
her visions. “I remember little things, such as clothing, smells, favorite
foods, and familiar rooms. My chambers at Spencer Estate seemed familiar to me.
I felt comfortable there. The previous Countess had lovely taste.”

“She did have lovely taste. But the previous earl decorated the place,”
William’s grandmother said.

“Then the previous earl, God rest his soul, had wonderful taste. I wish
I had known him. My husband thought highly of his brother. And I can tell he
misses him every day.” Amelia gasped. “See. I might not remember Bridgeton, but
I sense things about him. It is as though we are connected. I might not
remember our life together, but when I’m with him or look at him, something
deep inside me recognizes him. I’m quite confident my memory will return any
day now.”

As the hours ticked by, one by one the occupants of the coach nodded
off. Everyone, that is, except Amelia. Her mind hummed and she could not relax.
She looked out the window every chance she got in search of her husband. Why
did the sight of him settle her nerves? And then Amelia realized that even if
she never got her memory back, her life with William would still be fulfilling.
She was sure she would come to love him in time.

Sadness engulfed her when she parted ways with her family at Wentworth
Manor. Amelia knew she had to stay with her husband at Bridgeton Manor. Even
so, part of her panicked at being separated from her family.

***

William thought the ride to London would never end. Sitting atop his
horse, muscles tighter than a harp’s strings, was agony. He had come up with
the idea to put Amelia in harm’s way and had regretted it ever since. No matter
how much he told himself it was the only way, his brain had other plans. He
could not quiet the screams of warming in his head.

Every time he looked in the direction of Amelia’s coach, he swore his
heart stopped beating. When they finally arrived at Bridgeton Manor, his
muscles should have relaxed and his brain should have quieted. They did not,
they increased. Once he dismounted his horse and passed the reins over to his
groomsman, his attention focused on the ominous clouds hovering on the horizon.
“Please don’t let this be a sign of what’s to come,” he mumbled.