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Lost in her musings, Emma had not realized the man had awakened.

Whereas Lord Beaufort’s features were as if they had been sculpted by God’s fingers, Lord Graham’s were carved out by God’s thumb.

Not as beautiful. Yet, strong and steady and equally as compelling.

Even the ugly scar marking the man’s cheek did not destroy his appeal nor the smoothness of his light olive complexion.

He possessed chestnut-colored hair and mesmerizing hazel eyes and a strong Scottish chin line, which spoke of the strength of his character.

“I had a memory return,” she admitted in a whisper.

Lord Graham sat straighter and in apparent interest. “Something that would identify your attacker?” he asked.

Emma frowned, but she could not prevent the gesture.

“I do not think so,” she murmured as the image danced through her mind a second time.

“I was at the Tower of London. There were a dozen or more people around me, all laughing and pointing to the different displays. I cannot tell you their names, but I seriously believe I knew them. They were my household staff.” She paused before adding, “I believe it was their half day off.”

“Did you fear them? Fear any of them?” Lord Graham pressed.

“I am relatively confident I did not. Though I could not view my facial expressions, I felt the happiness we shared. I believe I paid for their admissions,” she confessed.

“Interesting,” he remarked. “I cannot imagine any lord or lady of the Realm spending a day at the Tower with his or her household staff.”

“Would not you?” she challenged.

“I admit I wish I had thought of it,” he stated in frank tones.

“I recall enjoying myself, as if the people with me were important to me,” Emma admitted.

“According to Orson, you are your own mistress and have been so for some time,” he explained. “Being a young lady on your own must be truly daunting. I find it so sometimes, but, as a man, I am permitted more freedom than you are likely to know.”

“Quite daunting, I suppose it is. To the best of my knowledge, I have had no one to teach me how to conduct myself in relation to my household duties. I am beginning to think I have presented my staff with too many liberties. I suppose I wished them to like me, though purchasing their respect is obviously not the way to proceed.”

“We all have ladders to climb to reach the top,” he said in reply.

She asked, “Are you like Lord Orson? His lordship said he lost his father when he was nine and his mother the following year.” When Lord Graham hesitated, she said, “Forget I asked. I did not mean to pry. Your past is none of my concern. I should keep my curiosity in check. I simply feel so disconnected to everything and everyone about me.”

“Honestly, I do not mind. My life became part of a public court proceeding, where Lord Duncan stood as my parent.

The people with whom I resided were his tenants, so his lordship stood as my guardian.

My mother gave birth to me out of wedlock, which would have been the end of my future, but, eventually, first his cottagers and then Lord Duncan and his wife took me in.

I was five at the time. Much younger than was Orson, who had already resided with the Duncans for more than a year.

“As you are likely aware, in Scotland, even in this time, people may marry in what is customarily called ‘over the anvil,’ as well as by a tradition called ‘handfasting.’ Essentially, it was proven I was Lord Aaran Graham’s son.

My father refused to acknowledge me, for he despised my mother’s many stratagems. Even so, legally, he could not deny me his title unless he outlived me.

Thankfully, Lord Duncan kept me safe from both my parents. ”

“Oh, my,” Emma said and reached a hand to him, which he unexpectedly accepted. “We never know what people have suffered by only looking at their outsides, do we? I have long thought my parents’ continued absence is a form of abandonment. Such is difficult to admit, but very true.”

“My trials were often difficult,” Lord Graham insisted.

“However, I have come to believe that siring a child and being a parent are two different facets of life. Some embrace the first, but never quite consider how to proceed with the second.” He shrugged and released her hand.

“Was there anything else significant about your recovered memory?”

“Yes,” she said, “and thank you for insisting I remember it all. A woman was walking by my side. My heart tells me she is my lady’s maid. She was frowning at someone. I am not confident whether the person was one of our party or perhaps someone following us.”

“Then you do not know the person’s identity?” his lordship asked in serious tones.

“I could not see his features,” she admitted. “Is that significant?”

“Was it a man?” Lord Graham asked.

“I cannot speak with assurance. The image was blurry. But the person wore black or a dark blue.”

“It was a well-executed ceremony,” Duncan said as he stepped up beside where Richard watched Hunter and the new Lady Wickersham circulate about the room, hand in hand.

“Hunt appears happy. I pray his relationship with Lady Wickersham remains as such,” Richard said, still watching his friend closely.

“You never thought the woman was worthy of your friend,” Duncan observed.

“I always believed Hunt sought out another too soon after Lady Anne Christopher’s father turned down his request to court the earl’s daughter. Lord Christopher thought his daughter could do better than a mere baronet,” Richard said in bitter tones.

“Sir Hunter Wickersham is some five times richer than Lord Christopher,” Duncan stated the obvious. “It was Lady Anne’s loss to be married off to an impoverished viscount.”

“I simply cannot imagine spending the remainder of my days sitting across the table from a simple-minded woman, as is the new Lady Wickersham. The new baronetess has never expressed an original thought.”

Duncan smiled. “You were considering the possibility of your and Lady Emma’s future while you listened to the rector’s instructions to Sir Hunter and the man’s new wife.”

Richard sighed heavily. “I know I am being the biggest fool to walk this earth, but my heart speaks a different language than does my reason. Even if we could come to some sort of agreement...”

“Do you worry that her ladyship’s memory will return and you will no longer hold such a strong connection, as you do now?” Duncan asked.

“How can I not?” Richard admitted as he turned to the man who had been both father and mentor to him.

“Even when I considered Lady Emma’s stance on certain topics as too foolish to be worthy, I admired her.

Whereas, she never knew I existed until I rescued her.

I do not want her gratitude. I do not want the marriage my parents had.

I want what you and Lady Elsbeth experienced. ”

At the mention of his late wife, Duncan smiled wider.

“Elsbeth was one of a kind, but I believe you and Lady Emma Donoghue hold the chance for happiness. You were always the most adventurous of those Elsbeth and I brought to live with us. I imagine you and Lady Emma could set the ton on its ear, but not in a negative manner. Act in a manner that your children would know their parents made society a better place to live. You would both make it possible for your children to know love and support and a vision for their own futures.”

“All of which you and Lady Elsbeth did for me and the others,” Richard admitted.

Duncan expelled a heavy breath. “Elsbeth handled the love and support. I was to be the disciplinarian. My role was to train you to take on the woes of the British government and know the status quo is not always worth saving.”

“I suppose there are worse forms of discipline than learning from target practice and fighting techniques,” Richard said with a grin.

“A bit of competition with the others did not bring harm to your learning,” Duncan asserted. “I was always quite proud of your diligence to your lessons at school and in the training room. You were always the one the others could depend on.”

Richard smiled despite himself. “I doubt any other lord among Hunt’s guests can say they can disable or kill another with the pressure of his thumb on different parts of his opponent’s body.”

“If so, the disagreements in the House of Lords could have a more final resolution,” Duncan suggested with a grin of his own. “Not to change the subject, but when had you thought to leave for Buckinghamshire?”

“Some time tomorrow,” Richard told him. “As quickly as I lose my shadow.”

“I was thinking it might be best if you are seen about London tomorrow and even attending church services on Sunday. You might convince those following you that your relationship with Lady Emma has ended. Moreover, I could use your assistance.”

Richard turned to look upon the only father he could truly remember. His own father had often been from home for long periods of time. He could not say such of Lord Duncan. His lordship and Lady Elsbeth never traveled anywhere without their daughter and all of their “sons.”

“How might I be of service to you?”

“The note you brought me from Mrs. Dove-Lyon should be properly addressed. I had hoped you and Marksman might accompany me to the Lyon’s Den again tomorrow evening.

It would be good to repay Mrs. Dove-Lyon with our patronage.

Hartley tells me that the woman’s business suffered after my shooting.

I thought my return would prove to the ton that I appreciate all the lady and her staff executed to save my life,” Duncan declared.

“As well as to prove to the London populace that the woman is not considered to be a suspect by me or mine.”

“If you believe my presence would make a difference, assuredly, I will accompany you. I originally told Lady Emma that I would see her again in four days. You are correct: I should be seen about London on Saturday.” Richard nodded his agreement.

“I would be happy to share a meal with you and Marksman.” He asked tentatively, “Do you suppose the Widow of Whitehall means to offer you a marriage contract?”

“I imagine such was the reason she had in mind. Mrs. Dove-Lyon relies upon these outrageous contracts to keep herself and her late husband’s legacy from debt.

Colonel Lyon and his family—a family who despises the colonel’s wife—left Mrs. Dove-Lyon with a mound of debts.

The colonel’s making her a woman of society was of little use if he left her buried in mounting bills to pay. ”

“I had no idea,” Richard admitted.

“Few do,” Duncan observed. “Most believe the woman has always been a kept woman, and she fell back on her former ways after her husband’s passing. The truth is Colonel Lyon’s family has tiptoed about their poverty for years.”

“Will you consider an offer of marriage by another woman?” Richard asked in a bit of a tease, though he knew Duncan’s answer before the words were spoken.

“Absolutely not. I would never accept one of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s absurd bets nor will I consider another woman at my side. No one could replace Elsbeth. I fell in love with her the first time I laid eyes upon her.”

Richard understood perfectly: He had presented Lady Emma Donoghue a piece of his heart before he even allowed himself to know what was what.