Page 10 of His Unforgettable Bride (Bride Ships: New Voyages #4)

Ten

Avoid loud talking and laughing, and still more carefully avoid any action or gesture that may attract attention and make you conspicuous.

N ot for a minute had Gray expected to find himself in the middle of such a pleasant evening.

The group had gathered in the drawing room. Livy delivered a thick knitted blanket of blue wool to where he sat in a comfortable, well-stuffed chair. “We can’t have you catching a chill.”

He raised his brow, not cold in the least. The pain in his temple mainly had subsided, and his strength had rallied. First thing tomorrow, he hoped to speak with the constable, then venture to the dock to investigate which ships had arrived in port recently. Hopefully, the name of a steamer, a city, or a person on a sailing log would trigger his memory.

Lord willing, something would register soon.

Juliet sat beside him in a rosewood chair, her ankles crossed. Had he been wicked to have helped her cheat with her dining room lesson before dinner? He wanted to think of himself as a hero who had come to her rescue, but something about the exchange told him he had once been a bit of a rogue…and perhaps still was.

He had recognized every item on the table, another reason to believe he was raised in a well-to-do home. Or else he had an unusually keen interest in dishware.

The sisters had invited Juliet to stay at the table for the evening meal. But she declined and insisted on eating her nourishment alone in the kitchen. Although he had enjoyed the supper with the sisters, he could admit he would have liked it more with Juliet present.

Thankfully, she’d rejoined them now in the drawing room. Tabitha had stepped out to retrieve a photograph of her brother and his wife. Livy continued to flit around, striding past another grouping of chairs at the far end, including a deacon’s black settee, large enough for three or four people. She paused beside the piano near the entrance and Peaches’s cage. “Where is my etiquette manual, my pretty bird? It seems I’ve misplaced it again.”

The delicate creature whistled in reply.

Gray studied Juliet, who now pumped her toe. Was she growing restless? He did not want her to leave when the evening was still spread before them. “Do you care to play chess or perhaps checkers?” Both games were set up on small side-by-side tables near where they lounged.

Before Juliet could reply, Tabitha entered the room with her posture perfectly erect and holding a picture frame. He had not recognized himself in a mirror. Would viewing the faces of anyone else lead to a different outcome?

Tabitha handed him the silver-framed images. “This was taken the day Nolan and Katherine sailed back to England.”

Slowly, Gray turned over the picture and stared at the grainy photograph, longing for an emotion, anything other than disappointment.

The lady’s large hat shadowed her eyes. But most of her small, delicate face remained open to inspection. Compared to him, her chin was pointier, her nose was slimmer, and her round, puckered mouth resembled the button on his cuff. His did not.

A generous display of facial hair covered two-thirds of the man’s face, and his large forehead revealed a receding hairline. Gray patted the top of his head to ensure the strands sticking out of his bandages remained. To his relief, they did. A pair of deep-set eyes bore no resemblance to his either.

He desperately wished for a familiar chord to connect him with this couple, but that chord failed to strum.

When he glanced up, all three women stared back at him. “Perhaps it would help if I heard more specifics regarding your brother and his wife.”

Livy had settled into the chair next to Juliet. Between them sat an oval table and a unique lamp, designed with a cut glass chimney, a pink reservoir for the oil, and a brass base. A vague memory resurrected, and the lamp seemed familiar. Had he been in this room at least once before amnesia addled his brain, confirming he was Alex Sherwood?

Livy leaned forward. “Your father’s middle name is Alfred, and your mother’s is Louise.”

Not beneficial.

“Oh.” Livy raised her finger and stood. “I’ve thought of something else that may awaken your memories. Please excuse me while I collect it.”

“Of course.” He tried to keep his tone pleasant, though he remained doubtful.

Livy left the drawing room, humming to herself.

Tabitha moved to take Livy’s vacated seat, but before she perched on the cushion, she tapped Juliet’s knee. “Young ladies never sit with their legs apart. It’s grossly unbecoming.”

“Thank you.” Juliet slapped her legs together, the fun from the earlier lesson gone and now frustration written on her face.

His jaw tightened, and he strongly suspected he had also failed to meet someone’s rigid standards once or twice before. But whose? Did he have a stern taskmaster in his life?

He knew the sisters only meant well, but a kinder way to point out someone’s error would be to pull them aside and provide the instruction one-on-one, not in front of others. Was that not common courtesy, or was he mistaken? “Would you care to view the photograph, Juliet?”

She squared her shoulders before reaching for the image he handed her. “Do you recognize even the slightest kinship toward the people in the picture?”

“Not yet, I fear. Tabitha, what else have you not disclosed about your brother and his wife? Anything substantial?”

“Katherine is French.”

French? Could he speak the language? Oui . A litany of French words rattled inside his head, not enough to fill a dictionary, but several pages, at least. Was he raised in France? No, he primarily spoke English. Perhaps he had visited his maternal relatives there. “Are Katherine Sherwood’s parents still living, and what was her name before marriage?”

“Last I knew, her family still resided in France. If I correctly recall, the name was Moreau.”

Gray waited for the name to stoke a memory, but none sparked inside him. Was he expecting too much progress too soon? Putting his life back together would take time. Therefore, maybe he should temper his expectations instead of losing what remained of his mind.

Still, what if he traveled north to where Alex Sherwood had served his sentence? Yet how could he leave town and simultaneously assist the sisters? He had an obligation to help them with their tearoom, did he not? They had fed, sheltered, and saved his life, for mercy’s sake.

Yet he could not stop wondering if he possessed the know-how for the project.

Juliet passed him back the frame. “They’re a fine-looking couple.”

“Indeed. That could help explain my good looks, could it not?”

A delightful laugh burst from her lips, bringing life to her face and a light to her eyes. To see and hear her happy again removed a weight from his shoulders.

Tabitha shook her head. “A lady never guffaws. It’s…vulgar.”

Juliet squeezed her chair’s doily-ridden armrests and clamped her mouth shut. Never mind that she had merely expressed joy. Never mind that calling laughter vulgar was absurd. And never mind that loud guffaws were inappropriate in certain circumstances, but not always.

Was Tabitha incapable of softening her many criticisms?

It was clear he needed to come to her rescue again. “Your charming laughter reminds me of music, Juliet. Bach, perhaps.”

Smiling, she waved off his praise. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

Tabitha was watching his face. Did she see his disapproval of her criticism there? He hoped so.

“Joviality has its place, I suppose.” The sister seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “But I have read the etiquette manual Livy carries around from cover to cover. It clearly states that speaking loudly, talking out of turn, and laughing boisterously are ill-bred and…vulgar.”

Juliet’s brows knitted. “I mean no disrespect, but I was raised believing laughter was happy and joyful.”

Gray nodded. “The Bible mentions laughter in a positive vein more than once. I trust that book more than any etiquette manual ever written.”

“I do, as well.” Although Tabitha agreed, her eyes and voice held a frostiness.

After a moment, he cocked his brow. “Did you and your sister attend finishing school?”

“Naturally.”

“Then I presume,” he continued, “you already know everything necessary to deliver etiquette lessons with good sense and a gentle hand.”

Tabitha picked at a piece of lint on the arm of her chair. “Perhaps we have been overly harsh in our methods. I’ll consult with Livy, and we’ll determine whether to proceed with or without the manual.” She shifted toward Juliet. “I apologize if I’ve been too exacting, but we’re trying to prepare you for the open house and dance afterward. Life in general, as well.”

“Dance?” Juliet’s voice squeaked. “I never learned how.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll teach you whatever you need to know beforehand.”

Juliet rubbed her hands on her skirt. “I am grateful for all the lessons, even if I muck them occasionally. Well, frequently.”

“You’re doing fine. However, memorizing our teachings isn’t enough. They need to sink into your soul and match your deeds.”

Juliet’s blue eyes carried a keen sincerity. “I’ll work my best on that.”

“I found it!” Livy waltzed into the room, carrying a rectangular gold box. When she reached his side, she handed him the item. “As a boy of two, our nephew loved this music box. It belonged to our mother.”

An inlaid circle of brightly colored flowers and fruit covered the lid’s middle portion. When Tabitha slid a lever, the top lifted, music played, and a feathered bird in blues, reds, greens, and purples popped up and spun.

Held captive, a memory gathered shape, and he pictured a child sitting at the knee of an older man, admiring such a contraption. Was he the youngster?

His temple pulsated as it typically did when straining to recall his past. He tried to blink aside the pain, which threatened to send him back to his bed in the sitting room. Slowly, he drew a deep, helpful breath.

A loud knock came from the front door, startling them all.

Tabitha stood, her brow furrowed. “Who is at the door at this hour?”

“I suggest we go and see.” Livy withdrew a tiny gold key from her skirt pocket and handed it to Gray. “If you wish to crank the box again, go ahead. We’ll return shortly.”

Juliet rose, as well. “I’ll wash the teacups from earlier.”

Tabitha nodded before she and Livy turned to leave, whispering as they exited the drawing room, Juliet trailing behind them.

He glanced around, uneager to return to the sitting room where he had been confined the past few days. Should he read a book? Challenge himself at chess?

Why not dry a dish or two?

Yes, that was a fabulous idea. He could put himself to work.

After standing, he lowered the blanket, key, and music box to the chair and crossed the room. His stride was stable, and his legs were strong. Although headaches still nagged him daily, his physical strength had fully restored.

As he slipped out of the drawing room, the sisters stood in the doorway at the front entryway, speaking to someone outside, and did not seem to notice him as he made his way to the kitchen.

He slipped into the spacious room to find Juliet reaching for a pot dangling from a metal hook. When he realized he was staring at her pleasing form, he raised his eyes to her equally pleasing face.

Her brows were quirked as if questioning his arrival in the kitchen.

“I came to help you.”

“How so, exactly?”

“After you wash a dish, I shall dry it.” He glanced around the kitchen. “Where would one find a towel for such a task?”

She wrapped one hand around the kettle, and the other found her shapely hip. “I suspect you’ve never dried a dish in your life.”

“Perhaps I have done all sorts of shocking things.”

“Most likely, my past would surprise you twice as much as yours would me.”

“Oh, really? Have you ever startled someone with a kiss?”

Her brows shot high as either mirth or astonishment danced in her beautiful eyes. “Are you telling me you remember kissing someone?”

“No.”

“Then why mention it?”

Why indeed? “I have determined I was raised a gentleman, but maybe I am also someone who speaks his mind, laughs at least once a day, and…flirts with pretty ladies.”

A moment passed before her eyes widened and she realized he had referenced her. A teasing smile curved her lips. “I don’t know whether to applaud or slap your cheek.”

He chuckled. He appreciated her straightforwardness, how she was easy to like, and how a tendril of her flaxen hair lay against her cheekbone.

Juliet’s face grew suddenly somber, and she unflinchingly studied him. “Smooth, flowery talk doesn’t impress me. I’ve heard it all before, mister.”

“I am not trying to impress you. I am merely being me, I believe. However, your message is noted.”

She nodded. “Thank you for coming to my aid with the etiquette lesson in the dining room and your comments with Tabitha regarding my laughing. It was nice of you.”

How easily she offered gratitude. Did he, as well? If not, perhaps it was time to take a lesson from her. “I propose since you saved my life, I shall help smooth the way for you however I can.”

Her brow cocked. “How exactly might you do that?”

“I may make you laugh when I think you need it. Or, again, show you what fork to use with dessert.”

Her eyes sparkled with that same conspiratorial glint as earlier. “What kind of dessert?”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Chocolate cake.”

“Excellent. If Icala ever bakes a chocolate cake, I shall ensure you use the proper utensil to devour it. And on occasion, I might remind you that learning something new takes time.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

“Me too.” Wholeheartedly, he approved of Juliet, ladylike or not. Together they would determine how to proceed in a world, or at least a household, foreign to them both.

The clacking of heels in the hallway drew near, and in the next instant, Livy stepped into the kitchen.

Juliet moved toward the basin, then reached for the dipper, quickly busying herself by filling the pot with water to warm it.

Livy paused beside the table, her usual cheerfulness replaced by a frown. “Our visitor was the constable, making his rounds. Apparently, we left the double door to the carriage house open earlier, and he shut it on our behalf. He didn’t want an animal or trespasser slipping inside.”

“Is he still here?” Gray’s pulse raced. “If so, he shall save me a trip in the morning.”

“No, he’s already left for home. However, Tabitha asked if there were recent reports of a missing man in the area, and Mr. Blake assured us he hadn’t received any. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, nobody has asked about you, Gray.”

He could not stop his shoulders from sagging just a little.

Juliet cast him a half smile that seemed to offer encouragement, yet the news was not what he had hoped for.

Livy started to leave, then turned back around. “I did inform him that our nephew finally arrived and has moved into our home.”

“The constable was aware of my…I mean, Alex Sherwood’s pending arrival?”

“Oh, yes. Tabby and I are good friends with his wife and attend the same church. We haven’t mentioned Alex’s criminal record, and I believe it’s still best to keep that detail to ourselves. No need for others in the community to form negative opinions of you from the onset.”

“There.” Juliet’s smile widened. “You don’t need to go to the constable after all.”

Perhaps she was right. What good would it do if the constable had not heard of a missing man in the area?

Maybe it was time to consider that he was Alex Sherwood. More and more missing puzzle pieces had been coming together to create that picture.

However, he detested what he had learned about the sisters’ nephew thus far. Maybe that was why, somewhere deep inside, he felt dissatisfied with himself, because he had not been living an upright life.

What if God had given him this hardship to turn things around and become a better man? If so, he must not squander the opportunity.