The Prince's Bewildered Bride (The Blushing Brides Book 5) Page 10

  I could see him as plain as day.

  It was Edward, and he looked happier than I’d ever seen him before. His eyes were lit up and a huge smile spread across his face until it couldn’t go any further. He dropped to one knee. “Annette, will you marry me?”

  “Yes!” I cried.

  And then we both laughed because this wasn’t a surprise. We’d both known the question was coming—our parents had discussed it at length—but it didn’t matter because it was what we both wanted, and we were so happy and thankful to be together.

  The image faded away, and I was back in my room, standing before Edward as he slept on the lounge chair next to my bed. I had loved him, and he’d loved me. It was real and strong and, now that I remembered, I felt it deep in my heart, and I never wanted to lose something that precious again.

  I shook his shoulder harder this time. “Edward, wake up.”

  He sat up with a jolt. “What? What’s going on?”

  “It’s okay. It’s just me.” I knelt down before him and put a hand on his chest. “I remember, Edward. I remember you asking me to marry you. We were so much in love.”

  He stared at me in surprise. “You remember? Everything?”

  “No. I only remember the moment you asked me to be your wife. We were so happy. We did love each other.”

  His eyes softened. “Yes, we did.”

  “And what about now?”

  Pain flickered through his eyes so quickly I almost missed it, and then he stared back at me, not answering, not saying a word. It was quiet for so long that my heart began to ache and tears formed in my eyes.

  “Is it too late?” I asked, my voice cracking.

  When he didn’t respond, a feeling of despair encompassed me, wrapping its ugly claws around my throat. But all was not lost because he stood and pulled me into his arms, and he held me so tightly I knew he didn’t want to let go. He lowered his lips to mine and kissed me softly, tenderly, with so much care and reverence.

  “I hope not,” he whispered. “I really hope not.”

  Chapter 11

  Edward

  Several days passed after the incident at the ball when I’d punched Leo and then Annette fainted. I’d stuck by Annette’s side during her recovery from the flu, refusing to distance myself as I had before. She’d been in bed the entire time, and as hard as it was on her, it solidified something in my mind.

  I loved her so much I couldn’t even fathom walking away, or rather, making her go. Just thinking about a divorce made me sick to my stomach. Made me want to punch a wall. Triggered this caveman response where I wanted to toss her over my shoulder and take her far, far away where no one could hurt either of us.

  When she’d said she remembered the day I asked her to marry me, I’d seen the truth in her eyes: she really did have feelings for me. It was real…not a delusion on my part. She was happy she remembered, and that joy spread to me as well. I hadn’t felt that in a long time.

  She’d also explained what happened with Leo in the ballroom, and how they’d ended up in the hallway. Besides being infuriated that he’d made a pass at her in our own home, I was strangely calm about it all. Her feelings for him weren’t what they used to be since she didn’t remember him. That part was evident. She’d spoken about him with disgust in her voice, and, from what I could tell, it wasn’t an act.

  I was ready to forgive and let the past stay in the past. I wouldn’t even bring it up to her. She didn’t remember, and it would only make her sad to know about the hotel room Leo had booked under his name. Come to think of it, she might not have been aware of his plans. Sarah had found a note from him, but nothing from her. Maybe I’d jumped to conclusions too quickly.

  At any rate, it was time to move on, and although she still didn’t remember much, I was ready to woo her as if we were starting all over again. She remembered how she’d felt when I proposed. She just didn’t have all the other memories to consider. I would do my best to give her new ones to grasp onto.

  I’d promised her that when she was better, I would take her on a carriage ride around the castle grounds. I had an old, vintage carriage that could still be used as long as we took good care of it, and I’d already made sure it was in safe, working condition. The old Annette had laughed and mocked me when I’d brought up taking a ride, so I’d left the carriage to rust in the stable, but the prospect of going on a small day trip delighted the newer version of herself.

  “There you are,” I said walking into her room, holding my hand out to her.

  She took it and smiled. “Sorry. Your mother gave me a more detailed tour of the castle this morning, and she was being so nice, I didn’t want to cut it short. I’m trying to mend my relationship with her.”

  Warmth flooded through me at her attempt to connect. That she would even try after my mother’s behavior at the ball spoke volumes about her character. My mother was not an easy woman to adapt to, and she had never liked Annette, but I was thankful they were both making the effort to get along. Annette was still the same person, but some of her values had changed…that was very clear to me. “I’m glad.” I cleared my throat. “Did she show you the secret passageway?”

  She arched an eyebrow. “There’s a secret passageway?”

  I laughed. “Of course. This is an old castle. The original architect created a quick escape for the king and queen during times of attack. We have a few minutes right now if you’d like to see it.”

  “Please,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “That sounds exciting.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  “Have I seen it before?”

  “No. After we got married, and you moved into the castle, I offered to show you but you said you weren’t interested in a smelly old passageway that wasn’t properly lit.”

  “There aren’t lights?”

  “Unfortunately, no. It’s always the last thing on the budget since an escape route isn’t as necessary as it was in the old days.”

  “Well, as long as you hold my hand, I’ll be fine.”

  I wiggled my eyebrows. “I can definitely do that.”

  She followed me to the other side of the castle, and we passed the upper west-wing drawing room to a small study with several antique paintings and a large bookcase. A desk and chair sat near a window that looked out towards the back of the house to extensive gardens and the green countryside beyond that. I walked over to a painting of a woman with white voluminous hair, most likely a wig, and an elaborate hat with a feather draping down. She was holding a bouquet of roses and smiling serenely.

  “It’s behind this painting.” I lifted the frame and pulled the handle behind it. The door swung wide open and a dusty, dank smell filtered into the room. “We rarely go down here, and there aren’t any windows to let in fresh air, unfortunately.”

  I kept several flashlights in a desk drawer, and after taking one, I took her hand and led her down a huge flight of stairs that wound around and around until we came to the bottom floor. “Careful where you step. I don’t want you to lose your footing.” I made sure to shine the flashlight on the steps and gripped her hand so she wouldn’t fall. “It sometimes feels like the stairs will never end, but I promise you, they will.” My voice echoed off the walls as we continued.

  She laughed. “You won’t get any complaints from me. I’m enjoying the adventure.”

  We finally made it to a small sitting room with a sofa, a few chairs, and a small table in the corner. I shined the flashlight on the wall next to the stairs and found a light switch. “At least we have this one. No one wants to sit in a dark room.”

  “Wow,” she said, looking around. “It almost looks like a museum in here.”

  “Since we don’t actually use the room, we haven’t updated much. Some of the furniture dates back to the 1600s.”

  “This is amazing, Edward. I’m so grateful you showed me.” She circled the room, taking note of the paintings on the wall as if she didn’t want to forget a single detail.

  I walk
ed over to a picture of a landscape and lifted the frame. “The door is right behind this painting, and I won’t need to lock it since we station our security around the perimeter.” I opened the door wide and gestured for Annette to walk outside. Once she did, I followed her out and shut the door. There was no handle on the outside and the door blended with the rest of the wall. “Are you ready for the carriage ride now?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes sparkled. “I can’t wait to ride in an old-fashioned carriage and see the beautiful land of Calais.”

  We walked arm-in-arm to the stable where the horse and carriage waited. The groom had already taken the initiative to get everything ready for us, including blankets since it was an open carriage without a covering. One of the kitchen staff had brought over a picnic basket full of sandwiches and fruit and miniature tarts for us to enjoy. I helped Annette into the carriage, and I jumped up next to her, taking the reins of the horse, and then we were off with a jolt.

  Annette squealed in surprise, and I laughed. We followed a dirt road through green pasture that led further south, away from the castle but was still part of the castle grounds. It was quiet as we traveled, the only sounds the clop, clop, clop of the chestnut mare and the birds fluttering in the trees above.

  “This is a beautiful trail,” Annette said. “I can’t believe we haven’t done this before. It’s so green and lovely.”

  One side of my mouth tipped up in a lop-sided smile. “There’s a first for everything.”

  “I’m glad I’m sharing this first with you today.” She shivered as the wind picked up and blew her ponytail back and forth.

  “You cold?”

  “Just a little.”

  I held onto the reins with one hand and put my other arm around her shoulders, drawing her in closer. “I’ll just have to keep you warm then.”

  She grinned. “That was easy.”

  “What?”

  “Getting you to put your arm around me.”

  I laughed. “You didn’t get me to put my arm around you. I freely put it there.”

  “Because you saw me shiver.”

  I glanced at her and when our gazes locked, her eyes twinkled. “You rascal,” I said. “You shivered on purpose.”

  “Uh-huh.” She wore a mischievous smile and scooted even closer.

  I tried to contain my amusement, but it didn’t work. “You’re flirting, aren’t you?”

  “Yep. Thought I’d give it a try and see how the Prince of Calais would respond.”

  “Oh, so it was a test. Did I do the right thing?”

  She snuggled against me and breathed out a sigh of contentment. “Yes, you definitely did.”

  I tightened my hold on her and pressed a kiss to her temple, liking this banter between us. If everything stayed just like this, we might have a fighting chance.

  “I’ll take one here, too, please,” she said.

  I turned to see her pointing to her cheek, so I leaned in and brushed my lips against her soft skin.

  “And here.” She pointed to the corner of her mouth.

  I kissed the corner of her mouth and then the other side. I brought us to a halt and lowered my lips to hers, kissing her with so much urgency we both had to take a breath, and then my mouth moved over hers again and again until she quivered in my arms and I knew it was time to stop. I cleared my throat and straightened, facing forward. I needed to make sure I didn’t rush things or I might spook her, and we definitely didn’t want more setbacks in our relationship. We were husband and wife, so we’d been intimate before her memory loss, but everything was new to her now since she didn’t remember our past together. I had to go slow and do this the right way.

  We continued our journey, both of us remaining quiet, still feeling the effects of that kiss and needing to find our equilibrium again. Annette finally broke the ice.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure. Ask me anything.”

  “Really? I can ask anything I want? Nothing is out of bounds?”

  I hesitated for a moment since I didn’t want to discuss our history with Leo, but I made a quick decision. Whatever she wanted to know, I would tell her. We were married and having open communication was the only way to deepen our relationship. Instantly, guilt stabbed me in the side because I didn’t plan on telling her about the possible affair she might have had, but I was doing it to protect her, not to hurt her. “Nothing is out of bounds.”

  She nodded. “Okay, then. What does ‘Je t'aime’ mean?”

  Relief flooded through me because this was a question I could answer easily. “It means ‘I love you.’”

  The corners of her mouth eased up, and she pulled back just enough to look at me. “You told me you loved me when I was sick.”

  She said it like she was a little surprised, and that cut me to the core because I had distanced myself so much that it had caused her to doubt my love for her.

  “I do love you, and I’m sorry if you ever had to question that.”

  Her eyes watered, and she glanced to the side to hide her face.

  “Sweetheart,” I said, placing a finger underneath her chin and nudging her to look at me. “We had some ups and downs, but I’m committed to you. I’ve never loved anyone as I love you.”

  A tear rolled down her face, and I wiped it away with my thumb. I brought us to a halt again and kissed her lightly on the lips. When I pulled back, I hovered there for a second, wanting to dip down and do that again, but it was time to rein myself in. I let out a heavy breath and smoothed my hand over her hair. This was so hard. It was difficult keeping myself in check when it came to Annette. Now that I’d given myself permission to give all that I had to this marriage, I wanted more with her…I wanted everything. But I didn’t want to ruin what we had at this moment.

  “I wish I remembered more,” she said, regretfully, “but I have the feeling of love from that one memory, and I’m so drawn to you, Edward. I’m glad we’re finally spending time together.”

  “Me too.” Her answer was honest, but it stung a little. It was almost like we’d just met and she was trying to figure out her feelings when it came to me. We needed more time together so she could get to know me better, at least until her memories returned.

  “I think my memory loss may have something to do with my mother,” she blurted.

  My eyes widened. “Why do you think that?”

  “I have this ache when I think of her. I saw the picture my dad showed me, but I don’t remember anything about her.”

  “You were pretty young when she died. You never really brought her up, to be honest.”

  “But every time she comes to mind now, it’s like someone carved out a piece of my heart, and I can’t get it back. I don’t know why, but it hurts so much.”

  I ran my hand up and down her arm, wanting to comfort her. “From what the doctor said, dissociative amnesia often involves intense stress or trauma of some kind. Maybe you never really dealt with that loss as a child and something triggered it more recently.”

  “I think that might be it,” she said. She bit down on her bottom lip and glanced at me with fear in her eyes. “It’s time for me to confide in you.”

  “About what?”

  “I kept a journal. I found it in a safe in my closet, and I haven’t read everything yet—it was pretty long—but, apparently, I didn’t believe my mother’s death was an accident. Before all this happened, I hired a private investigator and was looking into Victor Thibeau. The investigator called me, and he shared—”

  “Wait. The investigator called you recently?”

  “Yes. His name is Reginald Thompson, and he said he wanted to touch base with me because he didn’t think I would remember our previous conversation. It seems I had asked him to locate Mr. Thibeau so I could speak with him. He’s living in France now…in Nice, I believe. He gave me his address.”

  I ran a hand through my hair and stared ahead. “I had no idea you were having those kinds of concerns.”

  “I didn’t eve
r mention it?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess we didn’t share everything with each other.” She had a strange expression on her face as if she was holding something back.

  “You don’t need to be sorry. We have a clean slate…an opportunity to do it all over.” I paused. “We can visit Mr. Thibeau if you want. We’ll go together.”

  She hesitated for a long moment, and then she finally nodded. “I thought about going alone, but I really do trust you, Edward, and I want you there. My dad didn’t seem to think he was responsible for her death, but I’d like to hear what Mr. Thibeau has to say. Maybe he can shed some light on what happened the day she died. It might give me closure.”

  “We’ll need a security team to go with us, but it’s a very short trip by plane, and we won’t even have to stay overnight unless we decide we want to. We have a family home in Nice.”

  She hesitated again and glanced away. “Thank you. It means a lot that you’re supporting me in this. I want to get better…I want to remember everything, and something tells me this is the direction I need to go in order for that to happen.”

  “You seem uncertain. Is everything okay?”

  “I’m not… I just…” She trailed off. “Mr. Thompson told me that when I hired him, I mentioned I didn’t trust you. That I felt the need to go on the trip alone.”

  My brows pinched together as I studied her for a long moment. “I don’t know what to say. I suppose it’s indicative of the kind of relationship we had, but I want that to change.”

  “I do too.”

  I kissed the top of her head and drew her close to me again. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

  She pulled back and peered up at me. “There’s something else I’d like to ask. It’s been on my mind lately.”

  “Ask away,” I said, playfully. “I’m a wealth of information.”

  She smiled. “I bet you are.”

  “Just giving you the facts.”