Page 74 of His Unforgettable Bride
She delivered a caring smile. “What a relief. I was worried about you.”
A rush of tenderness passed over him, and he kissed the top of her head before climbing the staircase. Was she still in denial about who he was? Soon, he would tell Juliet every startling detail about his identity, but only one aspect would spin her head—his royal status.
He continued to his room, closed the door, and lay on his bed, folding his arms beneath his head. Sleeping was not on the agenda. Only quiet to welcome the return of his memories.
Once again, his life had changed in a blink. What did he know about himself? He was christened Henry Phillip Graighton to honor two of his maternal uncles.
More memories arose—visions of horseback riding, Christmas gatherings, dancing in the great hall, swimming in the pond. Even his first kiss with a girl named Gabriella.
One Christmas Eve, he and Sutton had a knockdown brawl in the fencing room. Why? He had no recollection. But he had blackened his brother’s eye. Sutton had shoved him into an old suit of armor that crashed to the floor, bloodying his lip and delivering a gash to his thumb. He rubbed the scar that still lingered all these years later.
Finally, their father intervened by pulling them apart. A massive scolding followed, the root being that his sons had better behave and mature or else. How old were they? Eight and nine?
One son immediately took their father’s words to heart. The other followed a slower, more meandering path. Nonetheless, could he and Father finally make amends? Gray scrubbed a hand over his face. He would soon return to Bascandy, and Everly would become a memory.
A lump lodged in his throat. But what about Juliet?
Holding her on the dance floor had solidified his plans to build a future with the woman of his dreams. How could he leave her? Not when he’d already pictured her as a part of his future. Not when he had formed so deep a connection with her as a friend but also as more. Not when he had come to rely upon her to anchor him through the storms. What would he do without her?
He shook his head. No, he refused to think about life apart from her. Not yet. And not ever.
The sisters’ footsteps pattered in the hallway. Soon, their doors closed. Were they returning to their beds or getting ready for the day? Had Juliet also retired to her room, or had her day of chores already commenced?
He doubted there was a perfect time to tell her about his past, but perhaps now was as good as any, especially if they stole a few minutes alone. After he rose, he left his room, crossed the hallway, and peered into Juliet’s empty bedchamber, the door wide open. Not locating her, he continued down the staircase and into the kitchen.
She stood at the washbasin, her back to him. She had changed into a dress and added shoes and stockings to her attire, but her bundled hair still sat atop her head. “I am happy you are still awake,” he said.
Juliet whirled around, drying her hands on her apron. “It’ll be a full day cleaning up the tearoom and the incident down the hallway. Plus, I’m too worked up to rest since the scuffle.”
“Can you squeeze in time for a conversation? There is something I wish to tell you.”
“If you can walk and talk at the same time? It’ll be the dickens to remove that man’s blood from the carpet, and I’d like to get started.”
“Fortunately, I possess multiple talents, including walking and conversing simultaneously.”
“You could add holding your own in a tussle to the list.” She picked up a wet, wadded cloth from the sideboard. “I was thoroughly impressed.”
“That is what it takes to impress you?”
“It takes very little.” Her eyes held a teasing glimmer as she led the way from the kitchen.
When they reached the drawing room, he moved to the settee, sat, and patted the cushion beside him. “I changed my mind and request your rapt attention while I tell you something vital.”
She pulled her eyes from the dark bloodstain before joining him on the cushion. Someone, probably Juliet, had already righted the end table and removed evidence of the broken lamp. “You are acting quite mysteriously.”
“If you recall the day we met, I told you I was a man of mystery.”
Juliet lowered her damp cloth to the carpet near her feet. “That’s right, and it’s a good memory to hold tight.”
And now he had a million more. “Brace yourself for a shock.”
Her chin rose to an adorable tilt. “There is little that truly surprises me anymore.”
“My memory has returned.”
Wide-eyed, she reared back and grasped his hand. “Holy Moses. That’s…grand.”
An overwhelming need to embrace her wrenched him forward, and he tucked her into a warm hug, his chin resting on her head. Holding her now was different than before, maybe because he understood himself better, realizing he had wanted someone genuine like her all his life.
