Free Some Enchanted Waltz by Lily Silver Page A

to Glengarra Castle and she wouldn’t recall it.
    Adrian sat down on the bed again, deciding not to allow his mother to dominate the situation. This was his home and Tara would soon be his wife. He took Tara’s tiny wrist in his hand, tracing his finger on the inside of her forearm as he explained their story to his agitated parent. “Captain Gilamuir brought Tara to me near dawn several days ago. Mick found her unconscious on the shore. I have been consumed in the past days with Tara’s recovery and overseeing the retrieval of the poor wretches who did not survive, her father included. We have yet to recover his remains, and my dearest Tara is unable to remember anything before waking here.”
    His mother’s features melted from granite indifference to horrified empathy.
    If there was one thing his mother understood, it was grief. He noticed the slight weaving of her step as she crossed the room. She bent and proceeded to give his bride a soft peck on the cheek. The distinct odor of brandy wreathed in strong perfume confirmed his suspicions. If she could appear at the wedding ceremony without brandy on her breath and a foul demeanor, he would consider himself fortunate.
    “There, there, my poor child. I am sorry for your loss. Adrian, pray excuse me, my nerves.”  His mother clutched her chest in an irritating effort at high drama. “I need to lie down. Send for Dr. Magnus. I need a dose of Laudanum, I feel a spell coming on.”
    Adrian rolled his eyes to the ceiling before glancing at the fair Tara to see how she was taking this wrung out drama straight from the gutters of Drury Lane. Tara was the one suffering injury and supposed loss, yet his mother claimed the mere telling of his fiancée’s sorrows was sufficient to send her to her bed with the need for sedatives.
    “Dr. Magnus left a bottle for Tara’s comfort.” He replied, instantly regretting his hasty words. Her brandy excesses he could overlook. Her more recently acquired thirst for opiates was another matter.
    “Excellent. Have Cora bring me a dose, I shall be in my room.” The granite eyes moved from his face to that of his fiancée. “Poor child. Adrian, give her a dose as well.”
    “I don’t need it.” Tara was quick to respond. The slightest flicker of disdain flashed in her green eyes, vanishing as quickly as it surfaced.
    “My poor nerves benefit from its calming effects. Excuse me.”  Fiona Dillon sauntered out of their presence with the regal bearing of a Queen, belying her words regarding her fragile emotional state.
    “Mother needs time to overcome her grief.” Adrian explained, more as a reminder to himself than for Tara’s enlightenment. “She was devoted to Althea.”
    “ Althea ?”  Tenderness was reflected in those emerald pools, recognizing his pain.
    “My younger sister. She died three months ago. She was seventeen.” A stinging began behind his eyes as he remembered his sister, once so full of life and now a distant memory of all that was good and true in his life. “Althea had weak lungs. The winter months always affected her. She died of pneumonia last October.”  
    “I’m sorry. Did she and I ever meet?”
    “No.”
    “Where did we meet? You and I? If we are engaged we must have a history.”
    “Italy.” Adrian lied quickly, experiencing panic as he realized for the first time that Tara was not playing a game: she did not remember her past. Did she even realize she was fey? “It was last year. You should rest.” He rose, feeling unequal to the task of answering the questions he saw clouding her eyes.  
     “Wait.” She pleaded, before he could make a clean break. “There are so many things I can’t recall.”
    “Perhaps it is for the best.”
    “I can’t remember anything. It’s frightening. Please, help me.” The emerald jewels became liquid as she regarded him with a wounded expression that tore at his soul.
    “Concentrate on the present. Tomorrow we will be married, just as your father