Page 2 of I Never Forget a Duke (The Night Fire Club #1)

H e woke up with the light shining through a window he didn’t recognize.

He lay in bed for a long moment and took an assessment.

His head pounded and the light hurt. His stomach felt tied in knots.

He dimly understood that these were symptoms of the morning after a long night of drinking, but he did not believe he’d overindulged the night before.

Had he? The fact that he could not remember where he’d been the night before was likely further evidence of too much drink.

He sighed and decided to roll over to sleep the rest of this off, but then there was a rap at the door.

The sound entered his head like a needle. He swallowed a groan. “Come,” he said, but it came out hoarsely.

A woman entered the room. He did not know her, though something in the back of his mind said he would like to.

She was quite pretty, albeit plain; her brown hair was swept off her face and tied into a twist at the base of her head.

She wore a pale-blue dress that hugged her bosom in a way he found appealing.

Her face was nicely drawn, with thin eyebrows and a slightly pointy nose and plump lips pressed into a line of concern.

“How do you feel, sir?” she asked.

“Like I was run over with a curricle. I apologize, but where am I?”

“Yes, of course. The apologies are mine. You were largely unconscious when we escorted you in last night. You are in the residence of the Countess of Sweeney.”

“Sweeney?” It seemed like a name he should know, but as he cast about his mind for a face to pair with the name, he could not do it.

“Yes. I will grant you, the countess is no longer quite a grand dame of the ton , more a wilting rose, although do not tell her I said that. And the house is, unfortunately unfashionably close to Regent’s Park rather than Mayfair, but we can’t all be dukes.

” The woman chuckled and shook her head. “Ignore me. My manners are ghastly.”

“Are you… her daughter?”

“Oh, no. Apologies again, sir. I am Lady Adele Paulson. I am the countess’s companion. Wilton and I, that is the butler and I, were getting some fresh air outside last night when you were tossed out of a carriage. You must have hit your head.”

“I must have.” He touched his hair, taking stock again. There was quite a lump on his crown.

“And you are, sir?”

He opened his mouth to tell her, but then realized he could not remember.

“Perhaps I should have begun with a simpler question. What is the last thing you remember?”

He closed his eyes, but his memory seemed a thing shrouded in gray clouds.

“I do not know,” he said. “How can it be that I do not know?”

“I’m sure it will come to you in short order.”

Her tone indicated she did not find this turn of events nearly as alarming as he did. He sat up in bed and realized he’d been stripped of all but his drawers.

“I do apologize also for absconding with your clothing last night, but I turned them over to the housekeeper for cleaning. In the meantime, I’ve found a few garments that once belonged to the current earl that I believe will fit you.

As he’s taken up residence at some pile in Yorkshire, I do not believe he will miss them.

The current earl is the countess’s son, so don’t be concerned that these clothes are too terribly old fashioned.

” She walked out of the room and returned with a parcel wrapped in brown paper.

She placed it atop a chest of drawers in the corner.

She patted the parcel, so these were clearly the clothes.

It was like his thoughts were blocks he couldn’t make fit together. “I am sorry, but I do not…” He gestured around him. “I cannot remember anything. Not where I was last night, not where I was three days ago, not even my name.” Panic started to crowd into the edges of his mind.

The woman, Adele Paulson, stared at him for a long moment. It occurred to him that Adele was a lovely and somewhat unusual name, but he pushed the thought aside.

“You are serious,” she said.

“I’m afraid so.”

She frowned. “’Tis a good thing Doctor Willis is coming here this morning to attend to the countess. If you’d prefer to stay abed, I can have him visit you as well.”

He lay back down slowly. “That seems like a good idea.”

“What shall I call you?”

“Pardon?”

“You may not know your name, but I still feel like I may need to refer to you in some way.”

“Let me think on it. Maybe I just need a few more minutes to recover my memory.”

“I do hope so. All right. You must eat, so I will instruct Cook to send a tray up for you. Doctor Willis should be here within the hour, so I will send him to check on you after he sees to the countess. Does that seem agreeable?”

“Quite.”

She nodded once. “All right. I will leave you. There’s a bell pull to your right should you need anything.”

She left the room, leaving him to sit and contemplate his situation.

It was as if someone had erected a wall between himself and his memories.

He glanced at the bell pull. It was a familiar object, in that he could recall seeing one before, although the handle was tarnished.

Would one inside of his own home be thus?

Was his home clean? Where was it? Miss Paulson had rambled about this neighborhood being unfashionable, had she not? But this was the home of a countess?

And how was it that he could recall social ranks but not his name or address?

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was somewhat relieved when a servant girl came in, left a tray of food on the bedside table, and left again with only a bow of her head. He was not certain he could endure speaking.

The offerings were modest: a few scones, a small bowl full of jam, a pat of butter, and a cup of tea. So he could identify food, but not himself.

He sighed, sat up straight, and tucked into his breakfast.

*

As she escorted Dr. Willis down the hall, Adele explained, “We discovered last night that he has a rather large lump at the back of his head.” She touched her scalp near the top of her head to demonstrate.

“He had a cut near his temple as well, although it was minor. The especially troubling thing is that he has no memory.”

“An overindulgence of drink will sometimes wipe out recollections of the night before.”

“No, you misunderstand. He has no memory of anything. He cannot recollect his name or where he lives or how he came to have a bump on his head.”

Dr. Willis stopped walking and tilted his head. “I have heard of such things occurring but have never witnessed it myself. How curious.”

Adele knocked on the door, and when a weary sounding, “Come!” came from inside, she pushed the door open. “Hello, sir. May I present Doctor Willis.”

The mystery man had put on one of John’s shirts, which meant Adele could now look at him without being distracted by his bare shoulders.

Who would have thought the bare shoulders of a man, the jut of his collarbone, the hint of hair on his chest, who knew any of that could be so…

appealing. And on a fairly young man—Adele guessed he was older than thirty but younger than forty—who had a handsome face with a strong jawline and an aristocratic nose, those shoulders were something Adele would not soon forget.

Seeing them had made her babble this morning, and she was mortified to speak with the man again, but he seemed intent on the doctor.

“My memories have deserted me,” the man said.

“Yes, Lady Adele explained. I have not treated a case such as this myself, but I have read about them. You hit your head in some way, yes? May I examine?”

“Please do.”

Adele looked on from the corner. Probably she should have left, but she found the mystery man mesmerizing. Who was this man? Was he a lord of some type? His clothes had indicated a certain amount of wealth. But how had he come to be in that carriage that had thrown him overboard?

“Did you fall?” asked Doctor Willis.

“I cannot recall.”

“Another patient of mine achieved a bump like this when his brother hit him over the head with a flowerpot. That patient was nine years old, though, so I doubt very much you were having an argument about who owned the wooden horse, at least in a way that would have resulted in getting hit with a flowerpot.” The doctor chuckled. “How do you feel physically otherwise?”

“All right. I woke up with quite a headache, but it has lessened somewhat. The rest of me seems to be intact. There’s a bruise on my hip, but it will heel.

” He glanced at Adele in the corner, probably trying to signal to the doctor that he would not be displaying that bruise for the doctor with her watching.

“It’s not my body I am worried about, but my mind. ”

“Yes, quite. Well, in similar cases to this, the memory returned all at once within a few hours or days after the injury, or it returned in dribbles over a longer period of time, or it never recovered completely.”

“Oh, god. Surely this state cannot continue on indefinitely.” The man touched his head. “It’s almost as though I can feel my memories are there, floating around in my brain, but I cannot get to them right now.”

“Yes, and in all likelihood, your memory will return. I believe putting yourself somewhere familiar may help. Perhaps Lady Adele can help you discover who you are.”

Adele smiled in a way she hoped was encouraging, although inside she felt nearly giddy at the prospect of an investigation.

How dull had her life become in the last few weeks of caring for the countess that this should excite her so much?

She shrugged it off and stepped forward. “I would be happy to help you, sir.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“And if you discover any other symptoms, if you have other injuries or feel nauseous,” said the doctor, clearly preparing to leave, “Lady Adele knows how to reach me. Otherwise, try to be patient.”

“I will see you out,” said Adele.

“No need, I know the way.” Dr. Willis tipped his hat and left the room.

The man narrowed his eyes at her. “He referred to you as Lady Adele. Are you nobility?”

“My father is the Earl of Canbury.”

The man shook his head. “The name does not ring a bell, although that hardly signifies given my present mental state.”

“You may not know him under better circumstances. Papa is not often in London these days. Says the air disagrees with him. He prefers the country.”

“Then how is it his unmarried daughter is a caretaker for a wilting rose of a countess?”

Adele couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “I told you not to mention I said that.”

“You said I should not tell the countess you said that, but I have not yet met this elusive woman.”

“Yes, I’m afraid she is in poor health, hence the doctor’s presence.”

“Nothing too difficult, I hope.”

“A fever. The doctor thinks she will be back to her old self in a day or two. She is also quite stubborn and would likely tell the devil he’ll have to wait if she is not ready to go yet.”

The man laughed. “She sounds like an interesting woman.”

“We manage to find ways to entertain each other.” Adele sighed. “You knew enough to know by the way the doctor addressed me that I must be nobility. Between that, your accent, and the quality of your clothing, I believe we can infer that you are a lord of some sort.”

“Are you sure?”

“No. I was just hoping to narrow things down. Do you remember anything?”

“Nothing. My head feels as though it is stuffed with cotton instead of memories.”

“Then how do we narrow it down? Because while I do not think you live in this neighborhood, my only evidence is that I have not seen you before. My father might be able to help, because he knows everyone, but since Parliament is not in session, he is not in town. I suppose we could check with Bow Street and see if anyone has reported that a man meeting your description has gone missing.”

The man tilted his head. “Bow Street?”

“Law enforcement. A detective may be out looking for you as we speak.”

“No, that does not seem right. My memories may return in short order.”

“I do hope so. But perhaps if they don’t, we can go out on the town tomorrow. Walk you through some fashionable spots, see if anything jogs your memory.”

“That seems reasonable.”

“In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here as long as you like. I already spoke with the countess, and she says it’s all right.

This house is not the fanciest, but we have a nice library and the little garden in back of the house is a nice place to sit.

We have plenty of food if you’re hungry.

Regent’s Park is not far if you want some fresh air, and—”

“Fresh air,” he murmured.

“Would you like to go outside?”

“No, I have a recollection… I believe one of the last things I did before everything vanished from my mind was go for a walk for some fresh air.” He rubbed his forehead and then dropped his hand and shrugged. “I can’t recall more than that.”

“Rest today. We’ll walk in the park tomorrow, perhaps. Please ring the bell if you need anything.”

“Will that summon a servant?” He asked.

“Yes. We have a small staff, but this is not a large house, so one of the maids or footmen will come quickly if you need them.”

“How do I summon you?”

It occurred to Adele at first to take that as a jest, but he seemed sincere. “Pull the bell. A servant can fetch me. As I said, it is not a large house. I am always close by.”

“Because you are caring for the countess. I do apologize if I get in the way of that. I did not mean to take you away from your duties.”

She smiled. “You didn’t. That is, things had gotten a little dull around here of late. The countess spends a great deal of her time either asleep or reading these days, so I have not had many people to speak to who aren’t the household staff. Your intrusion was not unwelcome, sir.”

“All right. Glad to be of service, then.” He smiled and Adele felt it in her chest. He was quite breathtaking.

She swallowed. “I do need to attend to the countess now. She’s always a little grouchy after the doctor visits. But ring if you need anything and I’ll check back in with you in a little while.”

“Yes, all right. Thank you, Lady Adele.”

“’Tis my honor, sir.”

She left, and as she walked down the hall to the countess’s room, she tried not to feel anything about the way he’d asked if he could summon her.

A girlish curiosity about whether he fancied her was ridiculous and beside the point.

She was a spinster destined to spend her days taking care of the older women who had fallen out of favor with the ton , and he’d go back to whatever his actual life was as soon as he recovered his memories.

So there was no use in dwelling on it, no matter how handsome he was.