Seven

Still in Lilly’s bedchamber

Ten awkward heartbeats later

Charles half-turned, a green and gold striped nightshirt clutched in his hands. Clothing rumpled and hair unkempt as usual, he gave her a sideways smile. “Our guest was less than comfortable wearing a matron’s cast-off nightgown. I rummaged through the recent donations and found this.”

He held the faded garment up.

It appeared too small, hence why she had selected the lacy nightgown. The previous owner must have been quite large. Finding a nightshirt that would accommodate his broad shoulders had been somewhat of a challenge, as had maneuvering the insensate man into the garment. As he had been unaware of his attire, Lilly had opted for pragmatism rather than fashion.

Lilly almost blurted, Beggars cannot be choosers , but held her tongue.

She conceded such a rugged man had looked rather silly with ruffled lace at his neck, wrists, and several rows across his chest. At least she had removed the slew of pink ribbons previously adorning the garment.

With a devilish twinkle in his eye, their guest looked over Charles’s shoulder.

“I usually sleep nude, but in consideration of your tender sensibilities…” He trailed off, but a distinctly wicked gleam shone in his gray eye.

Of all the things to remember.

Flames licked her cheeks, but Lilly held his mocking stare.

Their invalid must be feeling better, the rogue.

Charles choked on a cough.

Or was it a chuckle?

In truth, Lilly was not sure which.

She leveled him a contemplative glance.

Surrounded as he was by women, from servants to teachers, Dear Charles likely relished a jot of masculine company.

“I assume we can chalk that tidbit up to another recalled memory?” Heat still scorched her cheeks, but Lilly refused to give their patient the satisfaction of averting her gaze.

She advanced farther into the room.

By Jove, he would not intimidate her or ruffle her composure.

She wore her poised comportment like a second skin—a requirement when dealing with children and difficult adults as well.

He chuckled, a pleasant rumbling deep in his chest, then grimaced as Charles swiftly slid the nightshirt over his head. It took several tries and as many minutes, accompanied by a series of grunts and low curses, to maneuver the patient’s arms into the sleeping attire.

As she suspected, the fit was too tight.

To his credit, he did not complain but merely reclined against the pillows, the fabric straining over the muscles of his broad chest and broader shoulders. And revealing a shocking expanse of masculine chest at the vee created by the too-tight fit.

Even Lilly had to admit the nightshirt was a vast improvement over the frilly lady’s nightgown.

Still, what did he think?

They had a variety of sleeping attire stored away for every scenario?

This was a children’s home.

Nothing went to waste here.

The discarded nightdress would have been made into two or three nightgowns for little girls.

“Charles, may I have a word with you please?” she asked, careful to keep her tone professional and benign.

Pulling his eyebrows together into a puzzled vee, Charles nodded as he faced their guest .

“Please excuse me. I shall remove the bandages on your hands and head when I return.” He grinned.

Yes, Charles was relishing the male company.

“Then we shall have that game of cards. Provided I do not get called out to see a patient,” he said. “Your ribs will need to stay wrapped for at least another week.”

“Thank you.” Their patient responded to Charles, but his keen, steely gaze never left Lilly. “How did your meeting with the sheriff go, Miss Granger?”

Ah, he fretted she had revealed his presence.

Because he genuinely did not trust a man he had never met, or at least did not recall knowing, or because this whole amnesia business was a well-thought-out ruse?

Picking the castoff nightgown off the floor, Lilly straightened with it dangling from her fingertips. “It did not. He never arrived.”

“Oh, bother.” Slapping his forehead, Charles offered a sheepish smile.

“I completely forgot, Lil. Forgive me. This morning, I bumped into Wrottesley in Prudhoe.

“He said he had been called away on official business to Berwick-upon-Tweed this afternoon. Something to do with smugglers. He said he would be in touch when he returns.”

Knowing the sheriff’s propensity for corruption, Lilly bet Wrottesley wanted to ensure he received his cut of the booty.

Everyone knew of the smuggling that occurred along the North Sea coast.

With the many hidden coves and inlets, the geography was perfect for running illegal goods and avoiding customs fees and taxes. Plus, Berwick-upon-Tweed’s proximity to the English-Scottish border provided an even more lucrative way to distribute the contraband.

She eyed the man lying in her bed.

Hmm, might he be a contrabandist?

With that eyepatch, he resembled a pirate.

And undisguised relief softened the hard contours of their patient’s features.

“I suppose it is just as well for now.” She tore her attention from the mystery man and seized Charles’s arm, practically dragging him from the chamber.

Wearing a befuddled expression, Charles permitted her to tow him along.

After pulling the door closed behind them, she continued several feet down the corridor until she was certain the prisoner could not overhear them.

“Whatever has taken hold of you, Lil?” he asked, using his nickname for her since they had been children.

Despite not being related by blood, Charles was her brother, and she was his sister, in every other way. Both had arrived at Kelston Hall as toddlers and, for whatever reason, Miss Davenport had taken a personal interest in them.

“ Shh , Charles.”

“Why was your chamber locked from the outside?” Charles scraped a hand through his already tousled locks. “And why is it just as well the sheriff did not pay a call today?”

“Please lower your voice, Charles.” After assuring no children or staff lurked nearby, Lilly dropped her voice to a whisper. “It occurred to me today, that we literally know nothing about him.”

She gave a pointed look at the closed door.

“For all we know, he might be a criminal.” She drew herself up to her full height, all five feet seven inches. “So, I decided until we know exactly who our uninvited guest is, to protect everyone, my chamber shall remain locked. I explained my reasons to him earlier, and he was surprisingly amenable.”

Cupping his nape, Charles scraped the toe of his shoe along the floorboard. “I s’pose you are right. He just does not strike me as the unsavory type, though.”

“I understand, Charles.” She peeked around again to ensure their privacy—a rare commodity with this many people under one roof. “However, appearances can be deceiving. What is more, he is extremely worried that I shall notify the sheriff that he is here, and he told me earlier that he believes he was abducted.”

That jerked Charles’s attention from the scuffed floor to Lilly’s face. “Abducted?”

Nodding, she withdrew the paper where she had jotted the notes down about him earlier in the day, sans the additional detail: he slept nude. “Here is a list of things he can remember. It is not much, but there are some interesting details that might be useful to help identify him.”

She passed the creased foolscap to Charles, who swiftly perused the short list.

A thoughtful expression crossed his face, and he wiggled the sheet in the air, causing it to rustle with the motion.

“May I have this? I believe I heard something several days ago in…” He frowned, in concentration, his eyes distant behind his spectacle lenses. “Devil take it, I cannot remember if it was in Hexham, Alnwick, or Morpeth. The tidbit did not register as important, but now…”

“Yes, you may have it. I can make another copy from memory.” She glanced out the window and skimmed the landscape—a habit from years of overseeing children.

Miss Sanders crept from the tree line, then dashed behind the henhouse.

From the corner of her eye, Lilly watched the teacher’s stealthy progress until she disappeared around the back of the house. She was probably using the servants’ entrance to sneak upstairs.

Well, Lilly would be waiting for her.

“I would wait to inform Wrottesley.” Charles rubbed his chin. “We know he is an untrustworthy sot and that he takes bribes. If our friend,” this time it was his turn to focus on the closed bedchamber door, “was indeed abducted, then Wrottesley may well know who was behind it, and in truth might be in cahoots with the blokes.”

That thought had crossed Lilly’s mind as well.

Arms folded, she tapped the toes of one foot. “And in the meanwhile, we do not know whether we can trust our ‘ guest ’ in the least.”

“He is still in no condition to be much of a threat,” Charles assured her with a kind smile. “I promised him a game of cards this evening.”

“Gads, I forgot.” Chagrin stabbed Lilly. “I promised to bring him a book or two and a few news sheets. I shall fetch them after I speak with Miss Sanders.”

“Letting her go, are you?” Compassion darkened Charles’s brown eyes.

Lilly cast him a surprised glance. “Yes, but how did you…?”

“She has been sneaking about for months, Lill.” His gaze held sympathy. “You have just been too busy and too trusting to notice. I did not feel it was my place to inform you as long as the children were not neglected, that is.”

“They have been neglected. Today, I caught three unsupervised boys having a potato war. Which makes me derelict in my duties as the home’s headmistress and director.” She stiffened her spine and jabbed her finger toward her chamber door. “Trust me when I say, I shall not make the same mistake with him. He will stay confined in my chamber until I am certain he is not a threat.”