Husband Wanted (HC #1)

17: A Memory for the Amnesiac

John had made a mistake. That became apparent when the entirety of the next day followed and he saw neither hide nor hair of Beth. He had hurt her feelings. No, he had done worse than that; he had insulted her and her... beau. The word made John flinch.

By late afternoon, he could stand it no longer. Grabbing the crutch from where it was propped against the wall, John hobbled out of the room in search of the woman he could not stop thinking about. He made it to the foyer before he spotted one of her brothers.

"Good afternoon, Simon, have you-"

The man glanced up from his conversation with the butler, offering John his usual friendly smile. "Ah, John! Good to see you up again," he offered cheerfully, cutting the man off. "Now that you're more mobile, you should take meals with us if you wish. We are about to sit down to an early supper if you're hungry?"

It was an odd juxtaposition to see a man as kind and gentle as Simon holding a title where he was used to being obeyed; it meant very polite offers that were near impossible to refuse. Not that John was inclined to say no.

"Thank you," he said, following the direction of Simon's extended arm, "I am." He was not, but he would make himself hungry if it would give him the opportunity to talk to Beth.

Though the entire family was seated in the dining room, John's gaze found her instantly. She was sitting at the far end of the table, opposite her young sister, and the moment he entered her own eyes fell to her lap. The room wasn't warm enough to explain the pink in her cheeks, and John swallowed nervously.

No one appeared to notice either of them.

Except one. Phillipa twisted in her seat, rising up onto her knees to appeal to him. "John, will you come sit by me?"

He shifted his gaze to her with some difficulty. "I'd be honoured, Phil."

The men in the room smiled or bobbed their heads at him – Vincent was the exception as he looked up from his book in surprise, apparently not having noticed John enter – but otherwise said nothing as they accepted him into their midst. Another plate appeared before him as John settled in the seat Phil had indicated.

Instantly, she began to ask him about the crutch. Did it work? Was it comfortable? Did he feel like it was impacting the healing of his leg? John tried his best to answer, but he couldn't help but glance at Beth. She was studiously avoiding him each time.

As the food before them began to cool, Simon offered a wry reminder to Phil to 'let the man eat', delivering John a few moments of quiet as she wolfed down her own meal. Of course, he looked at Beth. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, brown wisps falling against her cheeks. The ribbon that wound its way around was the same soft blue as her day dress, a gentle colour that matched her creamy skin perfectly.

John ripped his gaze away quickly. "Beth, please let me-" She stiffened as he spoke, but neither would ever know if she would have heard him out. Mr Grayson appeared at the doorway, issuing a gentle but clear cough that must have been taught to all butlers of good standing. The room looked at him quickly.

"Forgive me, your Grace," he said, stepping further into the room to direct his words to Simon. "You have a visitor."

Beth's neck snapped up suddenly, her wide eyes fixed on the doorway. John could have sworn he could read a name in them; Pendrake. Although he felt bad for his rude behaviour to Beth the night before, John could not bring himself to change his mind about her suitor. Pendrake had been... too attentive, never taking his eyes off Beth for a moment. And it had not seemed to be in a loving way. It seemed a petty complaint, but it was his complaint nonetheless.