Richard stood and started to pace. “We have heard about this before, men who went to war and came back with only pieces of their pasts. It could be from a head wound.”
There was a grimness about her brothers that she had never seen before.
“There are men who have never recovered their memories, Fanny.” Nicholas sighed. “What do you want to do?”
She stood, walked over to the mantle, and poured sherry into a glass. Fanny drank it down in one long swallow and then refilled her glass. Her brothers exchanged glances, but neither protested her choice. She thought back to that night, that brief flash of recognition before it had vanished. She thought back to all their moments in their cottage, their moments swimming together, laughing and frolicking in the lake, reading together, and loving each other. She thought of their child, Lily, their darling baby who looked remarkably like her father with her midnight black hair, sparkling green eyes, and dimpled smile.
“I cannot let him go,” she whispered. “Not in this lifetime. Not without trying.”
Richard came up to her and touched her shoulder. “Simply tell us what you need.”
She faced them, smiling at the stamp of resolute support on both their faces.
“There is a cottage…deep in the woodlands at Penporth.” Fanny blushed, but she held their gazes. “It is attached to his family’s estate. We…we would meet there.”
Richard’s eyes widened. “I sense a scandal in the making. Colin will not like this.”
“Colin is about to get married,” Nicholas said. “We will handle this one ourselves.”
Fanny chuckled for the first time in days. “You do not even know what I want.”
“You say that because you cannot see your own expression, hellion,” he said with fond glee. “Now make it good. What about this cottage?”
Fanny took a deep breath. A few days ago, the old dragon, as they fondly called the Dowager Countess of Celdon, had informed Fanny that chastity, modesty, and obedience were the pre-eminent female virtues that she should strive to emulate. Those virtues were far from her current thoughts, and for a moment, she wavered.
A lifetime of unhappiness loomed before her whenever she thought about the man she loved marrying another and never knowing his child. Lifting her chin, she said, “Kidnap the viscount and take him there.”
Fanny waited for their objections, but none came. A fierce rush of love and gratefulness filled her heart.
“We will do it,” Nicholas said with a thoughtful frown on his face. “It might take a couple of days to work it out fully, but we will get it done.”
Relief made her tremble. “Thank you,” she whispered. “The cottage is abandoned. I visited there for weeks after…after we were told he died, and no one came to clean it. Please arrange for it to be cleaned and stocked with food. There should be no carriages or horses about.”
Richard wiggled a brow. “No means of escape, eh?”
Fanny fought the blush, and Nicholas scowled at him.
Nicholas folded his arms across his chest. “We are not going to leave you alone at the mercy of a man who does not recall how much he loves you, Fanny. That is expecting too much from us. A day to speak with him at most.”
“You must!” she cried, stepping forward. “I am not a helpless damsel. I know how to shoot and how to plant a mean facer. You and Colin taught me.”
“Fanny,” Nicholas began warningly.
“Seven days,” she interrupted. “Leave us alone for seven days, or I shall never speak to either of you again.”
Her brothers exchanged glances.
“Colin is going to kill us if you are hurt,” Richard muttered.
“He will not hurt me.” I hope.
“You do not know that, Fanny,” Richard growled. “You have not seen this man in over two years”
“He would never hurt me,” she stubbornly insisted.
Nicholas sighed. “If this ever gets out, the reputation that we are supposed to be fixing will burn.”
“No one will know! We will be most discreet. I cannot hurt any more than I do now,” she said, the ache evident in her voice. “A part of me died when Simon died. Only it has not come back alive now that he lives. It is still dead, Richard. I want a chance to…to see if I will once again feel that…feel that connection with him.”
He jerked as if she had slapped him, and then he held out his arm. She walked into his embrace, returning his hug. “So, it is a most diabolical kidnapping then,” he whispered, kissing her hair.
Yes, it is indeed a kidnapping.