A large mirror hung above a dressing table. He could barely make out his own features in the shadows. Lighting a candle, he studied the man staring back at him. At one time, he had a well-ordered, predictable life. Now, a haggard expression gazed back at him. An angry red scar creased a jagged line across his bare chest, a knife wound he didn’t remember. The blow to his head was a recent wound, possibly from thieves or worse. Yet someone had saved his life and sent him here.

He didn’t know himself anymore.

The uncertainty unnerved him. Every time he searched his memory for a fragment of the past events, his mind shut down. He didn’t remember his supposed marriage, or anything leading up to it. It was as though an invisible wall barricaded him from the truth.

He was about to retreat when his gaze narrowed on a black symbol edging the back of his neck. Turning, he tried to distinguish what it was. Though he could not see the entire design, he recognized it as a tattoo.

Why? When had this happened? Never in his life would he have considered such a thing. Now, the indelible ink marked yet another facet of the mysterious past.

He tried in vain to see more of the emblem, but from the awkward angle, he could not see the full pattern. Stephen stepped away from the mirror. He would find the answers he needed, regardless of the effort.

Emily held some of those answers. She was wary of him, and well she should be. Likely she had lied to him to protect the children, using him for a place to stay.

He simply couldn’t believe that he’d married her, even though they had been friends as children. More than that, if he were honest with himself. Like Eve, she had tantalized him with the sweetness of a first love. Then his father had found out and had forbidden him to see her again.

How had their paths crossed after so many years? And why couldn’t he remember?

A fretful noise caught his attention. Stephen paused a moment, then opened the door to the corridor. The whimpering grew softer, then stopped. Was it an animal? He frowned, wondering what else had been brought into his house without permission.

As he passed down the hallway, he heard the sound coming from a bedchamber. He opened the door and inside saw a bundled shape beneath the covers. It was too small to be Emily, and as his vision adjusted to the dark, he recognized the boy he had met earlier. What was his name? Ralph? Roger? The child’s face was buried in the pillow, his small shoulders shaking.