Page 57 of His Sinful Touch

“I don’t want to fall in love with her! It could be disastrous. She doesn’t know who she is.”

“She does now—Miss Holcutt told her. That’s what she is good at, knowing everything.”

Alex chuckled. “You’re rather hard on Miss Holcutt. She’s not so bad.”

“She’s not bad at all. Ever. And that is her problem. But we’re talking about you and Miss Blair right now. Why does her lack of memory stop you? She’s the woman you know now, whatever her past may be. I can’t imagine that her lack of lineage would make you hesitate.”

Alex made a face. “Of course not. And it’s not because I’ve known her such a short time. I trust my instincts, as we all tend to. I know who she is right now. But what’s going to happen when she remembers her past? I want her to recover her memory because it distresses her that she cannot. I want her to look at me then and say, ‘Oh, yes, you are exactly the man I want.’ But what if she doesn’t? She might be a very different person when she comes back to herself.”

“You really think she would change that much?” Con cocked a skeptical eyebrow.

“I have to consider the possibility. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m trying to be practical. To do the right thing. It would be vastly unfair of me to take advantage of her vulnerability. To woo her, knowing that she’s grateful to me, to us all, and needs my help, that she can’t really weigh me against the other men she knows.”

“Well, she knows Peter Dearborn. I think you can safely say she likes you better than him.”

“You can be very irritating.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“The thing is, what if this claim of marriage isn’t a lie? She could be married, and she’s not the sort of woman who breaks her vows. If she remembered after we...after she’d committed herself to me, it would cause her a great deal of pain. If she loved me but felt obligated to him, she would be torn. Or maybe he’s telling the truth, and she did love him. That’s possible—maybe his father is merely obnoxious, but he had nothing to do with their marriage. Or maybe she loved some other man. She’s twenty and beautiful. How likely is it that there aren’t men lined up, wanting her? Or that she hasn’t fallen in love with any of them? Whoever it was, she would feel guilty because she had been unfaithful to him—and guilty for hurting me when she went back to him.”

“That’s a lot of speculation.”

“It’s hardly a well-ordered situation.”

“You think too much about everyone else’s wounded feelings and what they want or deserve. What about you and what you want?”

“I am thinking of me,” Alex protested. “Don’t you see? How can I give her my heart when I know she may realize she doesn’t love me? What happens when this deep Morelandesque love isn’t returned?”

Con looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. “I don’t know.” He finished his drink and set aside his glass. “Makes it even more imperative to find out the truth about her, then, doesn’t it? I’m going upstairs now to get out of this idiotic disguise. Come with me and we’ll decide what we’re going to do once I look normal again.”

“Or as normal as you can look.” Alex followed him out the door.

“Ha. Any criticism of my looks only reflects badly on yours,” Con retorted.

They went up the stairs, amiably exchanging brotherly insults. At the top, they heard the sound of women’s voices coming from the small room their mother had taken over as her office. The men exchanged grins.

“Sounds like Mother has taken the girls captive,” Alex said. “I guess Sabrina didn’t make it to her room to rest.”

“The mind boggles at the idea of Mother and Miss Holcutt exchanging ideas.”

They turned in that direction, and as they drew near, they heard the duchess speaking in a tone that brooked no argument. “...the time for extreme action! Women are fully capable of deciding their own destinies.”

“Of course they are,” Miss Holcutt replied in a cool, precise voice. “But surely a woman can be strong and accomplish much without having to perform outrageous stunts.”

“Chaining oneself to the prime minister’s railing is not a stunt. It is a very apt symbol of the blatant slavery in which women have been held for centuries. Moreover—”

The twins stepped into the room as Alex said, “Careful, Mother, you’ll frighten our guests away.”

“Ha! I doubt Miss Holcutt is the sort who will cut and run.” The duchess’s eyes were sparkling, her color up, and it was clear she was enjoying herself thoroughly.

Apparently so was Miss Holcutt, if high color and bright eyes were any indication, though she sat with the same prim correctness she had downstairs, with her hands folded in her lap. Of Sabrina, there was no sign.

“Where’s Sa—Miss Blair?” Alex asked, glancing around the room.

“She’s taking a nap. I was leaving her room when I ran into the duchess,” Lilah explained.

“Yes, we have had a most invigorating chat. I can’t tell you how good it is to have a discussion with someone of the opposing viewpoint who can actually think.”