Page 26 of Once Upon a Midnight Dream

She angled her head. “I shall see what I can arrange. Tooth powder and a comb as well, I should think.”

He liked that about her.

No immediate promises, vows, or claims.

Pragmatic and logical was Miss Lilibet Granger.

“Pleasant dreams…Zander.”

The door closed with a soft snick and a second later, the key clunked the lock tight.

Laying back, Zander stared at the ceiling.

“If I dream of you, Lilly, they are sure to be sweet,” he whispered to the still night.

Nine

Kelston Hall’s drawing room

Nine days later—early afternoon

After another fruitless perusal that failed to jog a single memory, Zander uncrossed his knees and, sighing, snapped the news sheet closed. He tossed the well-read paper on the muted red and beige striped chintz settee beside him before bending forward and resting his elbows on his tweed covered knees, chin cradled on his fisted hands.

Staring into the unlit hearth, he tapped his toes, needing to expel the energy his healing body accumulated almost hourly. He might not remember his previous life, but he had not been a man of leisure, nor did he enjoy being idle or sedentary now.

Three days ago, Lilly had lifted the order that he must remain locked in her chamber.

She did not give a reason, but Charles said she detested animals being confined in cages, much less humans, and he presumed Lilly had concluded after nearly another week that Zander did not pose a threat.

Giving the news sheet an undeserved, side-eyed glower, Zander plowed a hand through his hair.

One would think if someone went missing for weeks, a caring family would post adverts describing the missing person, where they were last known to have been, and perhaps even offer a reward, if financially feasible.

The papers remained conspicuously absent of any such notices, which led him to believe no one cared about his absence. Or, if he had any living family, they were too poor to place a notice in The Times.

Even as his physical body healed, his frustration grew.

It seemed he would need something substantially more powerful than outdated papers to regain his memory.

Who the blazes am I?

Over a week had passed, and he was no closer to discovering who he was than he had been when he had awoken.

Actually…that was not entirely true.

Over the past few days, hazy bits and bobs had filtered into his consciousness.

A petite, gaudily attired, bespeckled woman dripping with jewels and feathers.

A small, rundown cabin in the woods.

A snowball fight with grown men—and an auburn-haired a woman too.

Staring out the window, Zander blew out a long breath.

What did any of it mean?

What was more, he was bored out of his bloody mind.