Page 25 of His Unforgettable Bride
Then she turned to assess the patient. Dark shadows bloomed under his eyes, but a dab of color flushed his cheeks. His thick dark hair matched worn leather.
His handsome face could easily tongue-tie a young woman, even in its bruised and swollen state. And his soulful eyes carried a sadness that made her stride closer to the bed. How could she best help him?
Livy leaned forward, her plump face creased with concern. “Al-ex. Does your name trigger a memory?”
“Not in the least.”
“Sher-wood.” Livy drew out the two-syllable word as if the man’s brain needed extra time to operate. Maybe it did. “Do you recognize your last name?”
“It means nothing to me.” He rested his head against the headboard, a slump to his shoulders.
Was there a better method to spur his memories? For a moment, Juliet closed her eyes to scour her brain. Grandfather’s friends had called him Cobbie because he toiled as a cobbler. Her eyes popped open. “By any chance, has your nephew gone by anything other than Alex? A nickname, perhaps?”
“Now that you mention it, he did,” Tabitha said. “Our brother’s hair turned gray by the time he reached the age of thirty. Back home, it’s common to call such a man’s eldest son Grayson. Alex went by the name for years, though I’m unsure if he still does.”
The patient straightened, his eyes growing vast and almost wild. “Gray resonates with me.” He placed his chin in his palm as silence gathered until he continued. “I may be mistaken, but I sense Gray is my name. Even the word Grayson carries a vague familiarity.”
“Oh my. Oh my.” Livy rose and gently embraced him before standing beside her chair. “I knew you were family, and we’re elated your memory is returning. Aren’t we, Tabby?”
“Indeed.” Tabitha spoke the word dryly.
A skeptical thread wound tight inside Juliet. Hadn’t Livy leaped to a three-story conclusion? Yes, ma’am, she had. Couldn’t the name Gray belong to a horse or a family dog? Or maybe the street from where the man once hailed?
On the other hand, perhaps he’d discovered a link to his past. Who was she to cast doubt? “It’s a good, strong name.”
Clearing his throat, Icala slipped into the room. “Peaches flew inside.”
Livy clapped her hands. “Thank the Lord.”
Juliet drew in a breath of relief. “Yes, praise be.”
Icala’s expression, however, looked anything but pleased. “Another shipment has arrived for the tearoom, and I’m afraid everything fragile is shattered.”
“Oh my goodness.” Livy’s face turned pale, and she fanned herself. “That’s terrible, terrible, terrible.”
Tabitha hurried from the sitting room without a word but with her lips pressed tightly, followed by Livy and Icala.
Juliet stared at the door. Should she stay with the patient while he ate? Someone had remained with him constantly since he’d awakened, but was she the best person for the task?
At least she was wearing something other than her nightgown.
Society folks tended to assume a young man and woman couldn’t resist each other romantically while unchaperoned. What a crock full of nonsense, especially regarding her and him. Whyever would they need a chaperone? Not when he was battered and bruised and bedridden.
“I brought you soup. Would you care for a taste?”
“It smells wonderful.”
“I won’t argue with you on that score.” She retrieved the tray from the table and carried it to the bed. Carefully she set the offering on his lap. “Would you like me to feed you?”
“Feed me?” One of his dark brows quirked, and brown eyes homed in on her with a strangely arresting playfulness. “Tempting, very tempting. Though I shall manage unassisted, you may accompany me while I eat.”
“Hmm…” She wrinkled her nose. Bossy, wasn’t he? “I’ve known men like you.”
“Amnesiacs?”
“Men who make offhanded comments that women prefer not to hear, especially when they barely know the fellow.”
He lowered his spoon to the tray, the playfulness fading away. “I did not mean to offend.”
