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for in yearspast. In many ways, she was closer to him now than she’d ever been.“There are indeed, my lord.”

“Enough of that, now.”

Hero looked up to find his brow furrowed. “Mylord?”

“Aye, that. I am Ian, my lady, if you would,”he insisted. “I’m afraid I haven’t gotten used to being ‘mylord’-ed as yet.”

“You will, my lord.”

“But not yet.”

Hero met his dark gaze. Nothing would pleaseher more than to say aloud the name that had been pounding in hermind since she had discovered it. “Very well, Ian.”

Ian watched Hero as she left his arm andgreeted his butler, Boyle, warmly hugging the old man and peckinghim on the cheek. It was a display entirely improper for amarchioness, yet that impropriety charmed Ian thoroughly.

“Welcome home, my lady. I am so pleased tosee you much recovered since your arrival,” the starchy old butleroffered in an affectionate voice that Ian had not been privy tosince taking over the marquisate. “The others and I were quiteworried for you.”

“Thank you, Boyle,” she answered graciously.“Please let everyone know how much I appreciate their concern. I’msure I will get around to seeing them all on the morrow, if theyare all still here. I am so glad to see that Lord Ayr kept you onwhen he arrived. I had wondered.”

“My lord made nary a change, my lady, sincehis arrival,” the butler returned as he stepped forward and pulledout a chair for her at the foot of the long dining table. “Everyonewill be glad to greet you on the morn.”

“Please move Lady Ayr’s setting to join me atthe head of the table, Boyle,” Ian suddenly commanded, startlingthe pair as well as himself. At Hero’s inquiring look, he offeredonly a shrug. “It makes no sense to sit so far away if there areonly the two of us here.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” she smiled in returnand journeyed up the long table to wait beside the chair that wouldbe to his right. Boyle hastened to please her, pulling out herchair and seating her before doing the same for the newmarquis.

Once they were seated, a pair of footmenpoured their wine and Ian lifted his in toast. “Welcome home, LadyAyr.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Hero tilted her glassand took a sip, her bright eyes questioning his over the rim. “Nochanges?”

“Who am I to change anything?” Ian respondedlightly. In truth, he hadn’t even considered dismissing theexisting staff or engaging new ones an option. He still had much tolearn about being the marquis.

Hero’s eyes danced inamusement then, and Ian wondered if she might be able to read histhoughts.

Chapter Six

At the back of Hero’s mind, Mikah wasthinking that this was simply the craziest dream she’d ever had inher life and she mustn’t break character by bursting out inlaughter over the absurdity of it all. She’d never dreamed likethis before, being another person with thoughts of her own, and herdreams had never before featured a scenario filled with charactersso real, with memories and emotions attached to each one. Shethought of Mandy, Boyle, and her chambermaid, Nancy. Each was asfamiliar to her as if she had known them for years. And she had ahundred, a thousand, memories of the Duke of Beaumont as well, eachas vivid as her memories of her own dad.

The conflicting memories had renewed heraching head over the course of the afternoon as she had tried onceagain to sort it out. The fogginess had returned until Mikahreminded herself that if she simply relaxed and let Hero drive—soto speak—everything became much simpler. The remainder of the dayhad been much easier. Hero was a pretty conservative girl, Mikahthought, recalling how she had spent the afternoon following theirarrival at the castle. The hours would have been labeled “tame” byanyone’s standards, past or present. Hero had read awhile, napped,taken tea, done some needlepoint—Mikah thought she might havementally dozed off for a while there—then Mandy and Nancy hadreturned and prepared a bath for her in the attached dressing roombefore helping her to dress for the evening.

All Mikah knew was that she’d had moreexciting moments sitting through Professor Hickman’s History 101class in college. Those quiet moments, however, had given her timeto sort through all the new recollections that were gathering inher brain, examining the new memories. If this truly was but adream, it was certainly a vivid one, and already it was longer thanany other she could recall.

It had become even more vibrant since she’dmet Ian’s appreciative gaze while descending the stairs thatevening. Just the sight of him standing tall and proud, his bearingstraight from years in the military had sent her heart racing. Theintensity she saw in his eyes held her focus, sharpened everythingaround her, making it all the more real. Mikah almost felt as ifshe might live Hero’s life with her with happy acceptance if Ianwere part of her future. A pleasurable thought … if a tadvoyeuristic.

Such a bizarre dream!

A more sobering thought struck her then andMikah was surprised that she hadn’t considered it before. What ifit weren’t a dream at all? Perhaps, when that car in front of themuseum had smacked her, she had been seriously injured. Even now,she could be in the hospital, unconscious, or even in a coma!Perhaps that was why all of this was so different from what she hadpreviously experienced and why it was lasting so long.

She was comatose.

She had heard that people in comas wouldsometimes awaken describing different experiences during theirunconscious periods.

Other notions popped into her head then, oneafter another. Perhaps she was dead and this was some sort oflife-transference thing. Or perhaps this was a step on the road toNirvana and some Dharman traffic controller had mistakenly put herinto a life already in progress. Or a past life perhaps. Mikahwasn’t much for the paranormal, but she knew that many people andreligions believed in such things, including Hinduism. Given thesimilarity in their appearances, perhaps Mikah was a reincarnationof Hero and had slipped back into this life when she was injured.It was plausible, if illogical.

All she knew now was that she knew nothingfor certain.

Mikah was Hero now, with her and in

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