The Bride Lottery by Tatiana March

Author:Tatiana March
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Miranda steeled herself for a confrontation as Cousin Gareth bolted to his feet. He’d lost a great deal of weight. No longer puffed, his features looked handsome now. The straight nose and blue eyes and elegant posture reminded Miranda of her father, the older brother to Gareth’s father. There was a fresh scar on Gareth’s forehead, a livid red welt that ran from the hairline to the temple.

He charged up to her and fisted his hands in the front of her wool poncho, rattling her so hard her teeth knocked together. “Who am I?” he yelled. “What is my name?”

When she didn’t reply, when she merely stared uncomprehendingly at him, he shook her harder. His eyes were wild, his expression fraught. “Do you know me? Do you know who I am? Gareth? You said Gareth. Who am I? Tell me? Tell me?”

He didn’t know who he was. Startled, Miranda gathered her wits. Cousin Gareth must have lost his memory. The scar on his forehead might be from a blow.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I made a mistake... I saw the walking stick... I thought I’d seen something similar before but I can see now it’s not the same.”

The man uncurled his fists from her clothing and sank back down on the wooden chair that had scuttled backward when he jumped out of it. “I thought... I hoped...”

Miranda avoided meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He gave a small shrug, as if of acceptance, and spoke quietly. “They found me on the train with this gash in my head.” He touched the scar on his forehead. “The doctor says it is just a severe concussion. No real damage to my brain. He thinks eventually I’ll remember. There’ll be some trigger that lifts the mist in my mind.”

He shook his head wistfully. “When you said Gareth...it seemed so familiar... Suddenly I thought I could smell the salty ocean breeze instead of this infernal prairie wind...”

When he fell silent, Miranda felt compelled to say something. “Perhaps your home is by the ocean. You speak like an educated Easterner.”

“Yes. Yes. I’ve been told so.” He fastened his gaze upon her. “People have been calling me Wolf, because of the emblem on my walking stick, but I like Gareth. Do you mind if I adopt it? Use it as my name until I find out my real one?”

“By all means,” Miranda said. “It suits you.”

Cousin Gareth picked up the deck of cards with one hand, spread them into a fan, then shuffled them with a mere flick of his wrist and twist of his fingers.

“I might not know who I am, but at least I know what I am. I’m a professional gambler. Cardsharp. Good at it, too. Must have always been, for I don’t seem to know how to cheat. I only play an honest game. That’s good, because in these parts a man gets shot if he is caught cheating at the card table.”

Miranda realized he was talking to her just to keep up the conversation, to connect with another human being.

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