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Just stared at Ian with a flat, dull-eyed look. His fingers closed reflexively around the picture.
"But I do not remember you," Selena said in a small, stricken voice.
Elliot looked at Selena for a long moment, then turned to Ian. "What have you done to her?"
"I saved her. What did you do to her? She came here half-dead, her head bashed in."
The color slid from Elliot's face. "What happened to her?"
"You tell me," Ian snapped.
"I don't know. How ... how did she survive?"
"I'm a brilliant surgeon," Ian said bitterly. He wanted to believe that Elliot had caused her injury, but there was no mistaking the old man's sudden horror. Elliot hadn't hurt her-Ian had no doubt about that. But he wished he did. Oh Christ, he wished he did. It would give him the excuse he wanted to kill the man.
"Is that why she doesn't recognize me? A head injury?"
Ian heard the hopefulness in the old man's voice, the pain that lurked beneath the simple question. "Yes."
Elliot blinked hard. Tears filled his eyes as he looked at Ian. "I .. .I don't know what I'd do without her. Thank you."
The words, the plain little expression of gratitude, hurt more than anything that had preceded it.
"I misunderstand." She looked from Elliot to Ian to Elliot again, her eyes brimming with tears. "I-I was a virgin."
Elliot's face drained of color. He turned to Ian.
Good, Ian thought. Be mad. Challenge me to a duel. Something. Anything that would bring back the anger, the heat of emotion. Anything to fill the yawning numbness that was slowly suffusing his insides.
But there was no hatred in the old man's eyes, no anger. Just a draining, inexpressible sorrow.
And suddenly Ian understood, and the understanding
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almost killed him. This big man loved Selena, loved her the way Ian loved her. He had come all this way, searching with blind faith for his wife, his love, and he found that she'd slept with another man and had no memory of their life together.
And all he said was a quiet, shaking, "Was?" "I misunderstand," Selena said again, her voice rising with fear. "How can a virgin be married?"
The hat slipped from Elliot's big fingers and fell to the floor with a muffled thump. He crossed his arms and stared at Selena. "I married you to save you, Agnes. You were all alone, a little girl picking pockets on the streets of New York. When I found you, you'd been beaten up and left for dead." A smile twisted his lips, squeezed his left eye almost shut. "But you had a lot of fight in you, even then. You said your pa'd beaten you up and that he'd be back for you. You wouldn't go anywhere with me unless I married you. You thought I'd sneak out on you if we weren't legally wed. So I agreed."
"But still, we must have ... touched." He was silent for a second, then he said quietly, "Look at me, Agnes." She did. "Yes?"
She didn't understand, but Ian did. Elliot's face had repulsed Agnes and kept them from being intimate. Sweet God, it must have hurt. Loving a woman like her for all those years and never being able to touch her ... "What has your face to do with our marriage?" Selena asked.
Elliot released a long, low breath before he answered. "You said my face . . ." He swallowed hard, looked away. "You didn't want me that way." "Oh, Elliot Brown." Selena breathed. "Why?" "Why?" He frowned. "I would think that's obvious." "I mean why would you love a woman like that?" An uncomfortable silence descended again. Selena looked at Ian, then back at Elliot. "I am certain you are
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a good man, Elliot; I can see it in your eyes. But I cannot lie to you. I feel great love for Ian."
Elliot squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment, then slowly opened them. "You are still my wife."
"What do we do now?" she asked quietly.
"Do?" Elliot repeated. "Why, we go home."
