“Thank you, Doctor,” Lucy said politely. She did like the man but a small part of her felt his visits were unnecessary. If there was nothing he could do, then why should he bother to visit? However, even the thought made her feel guilty; it was not the doctor’s fault she could not access her memories.
When Andrew returned, Lucy was donning her gloves. He did not look happy. “So, you found a way to weasel your way out of the visit to Crookhorn?”
Lucy feigned surprised. “How dare you!” she argued. “I simply told him the truth of how I am feeling. It was he who suggested that I stay here rather than risk traveling. Who am I to repudiate the doctor?”
Andrew narrowed his eyes. “Yes, but you are not ill.”
“Oh, very well, I did not want to go on a silly trip with you,” she snapped. “I would rather stay here and rest and have time to myself. But I also admit that the thought of a long journey tires me just thinking about it.”
Andrew let out a heavy sigh. “Very well. I understand.”
Lucy smiled as she watched him walk to the door. Then he stopped and turned back to her.
“Your friends will be coming Monday for tea, correct?”
“Yes,” Lucy replied. “Why do you ask?”
The smile that crossed his lips made Lucy shiver. “I thought I would entertain myself. You would not mind if a few of my friends came to visit and share in drinks and business discussions?”
Lucy’s jaw dropped. “You would not have them over on the same day?”
He gave her a thoughtful look. “Perhaps I will,” came his reply. “We shall see.”
Before she could respond, he was out the door leaving her fuming once again. Monday was to be her day, and she refused to allow him to ruin it.
***
Andrew hurried down the hallway and out the front door in hopes of catching the doctor before he left the grounds. Dark gray storm clouds threated rain at any moment as he made his way to the stable. Relief washed over him when he saw Doctor Cooke taking the reins of his horse from one of the stable boys.
“Doctor Cooke,” Andrew called out before the man could mount.
“Your Grace,” the doctor replied with a quizzical look on his face. “Is there a problem?”
Andrew gave the stable boy a pointed look and waited for him to leave before engaging the doctor in conversation. “There is no problem,” he replied as he attempted to level his breathing from his rushed exit from the house. “I only wished to share with you what I have been doing, but I could not tell you in front of Lucy for fear of ruining everything.” The doctor nodded but said nothing, so Andrew continued. “What I told you was true, I have been taking Lucy to places we have visited before during our courting. However, I have also reverted to my behavior of that time, playacting if you will. I thought that if I did so, we would have a better chance of her recalling those events.”
“I see,” the doctor replied before slipping into quiet contemplation as he rubbed his chin. “What is your opinion of the progress so far?” he asked finally.
“She is the same woman I knew eighteen months ago,” Andrew said. “What I mean by that is that her reactions are like they once were.” It was difficult to put into words what he meant and not appear a madman. “Let me explain. On our first outing together during our courtship, we had gone into town.”
Andrew explained how they had stopped at the same businesses, how he had acted just as he had before, and how Lucy had sneaked out the back of the shop. “You see, she did exactly the same thing—leaving the shop through the back entrance—as she had done a year and a half ago. What are your thoughts?”
The doctor once again stood rubbing his chin as he contemplated Andrew’s words. “At this point, I see no harm in continuing with your plan,” he replied. “However, my only concern is any undue stress. So, my recommendation would be to stop immediately if she appears to be overly distressed.”
“I will,” Andrew replied with relief.
The doctor mounted his horse and once he was settled, he looked down at Andrew. “I wish you continued good fortune in your endeavor.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Andrew said and then the horse trotted off toward the front of the house and soon disappeared down the drive. Then Andrew made his way to the gardens in hopes of enjoying a bit of quiet before the rain came in. As he strolled, his gaze fell on a patch of yellow hypericums, which was Lucy’s favorite color—or so she had mentioned before all this mess had happened. Was yellow still her favorite? He could not help but wonder if she was indeed the same person she had been when they first began to court. Her attitude was very much the same, but that did not mean the person she was, her likes and dislikes, were identical.
He let out a sigh and closed his eyes. Inside, he was reeling from the frustration he was certain he was causing her. Returning to his former ways had not been an easy task, for he did not approve of the old Duke, a man who was obnoxious and cared little for others.
“Why do you despise me?” a voice behind him asked.
Startled, Andrew opened his eyes and turned around. When his eyes fell on her, his heart sank. Lucy stood before him as beautiful as he had ever seen her. What was different, however, was the pain in her eyes and voice, and it pained him to see her thus.
“I do not despise you,” he said quietly.
“Then why are we playing these games?” she asked. “When I first awoke, you spoke of some love we shared between us. Yet, when I told you I did not feel that love, you became hard and cynical.” Her eyes narrowed for a brief moment. “Or perhaps you have always been so?”
Andrew wished to explain, to tell her that this was not the case. That this was only a scheme to help her remember. That he feared it was the only way she would love him again as she had before her accident. That her love was precious and he would do anything to have her returned to him. However, rather than voice these thoughts, he shook his head instead.
“There is love between us, and I know it is still there. As for my ways, I am a Duke. How is it you believe I should act? Like a merchant?”
Lucy shook her head and then walked over to a rose bush. She reached out a hand and traced a single finger on the petals of a flower. “I will go with you to visit the Skinners in Crookhorn if you prefer.”
He waited for her to follow up her words, perhaps with some sort of extortion. However, it did not come. “Why have you changed your mind?” he asked, taking a few steps forward so he could stand next to her. How he wished he could simply pull her into his arms and hold her as he had before her accident. He missed the feel of her body next to him, true, but he also missed their conversations together. Was he truly doing the right thing in recreating their life together before they were wed? When he saw the tears in her eyes, he knew he was.
“I chose to go with you for the same reason you are trying to help me remember,” she replied, still not looking at him. “I wish to remember my sister giving birth, to Charlotte marrying, and,” —she turned to look at him— “I wish to recall whatever it was that led me to marry you.” The first drops of rain fell on them as she wiped a hand across her eyes. “Let us keep this petty argument between us at a minimum,” she said.
A surge of joy rushed through him at her words, for they were the same words she had spoken to him on her second visit to his home when her parents accompanied her. Though the weather had been bright and sunny that day, and her mother had been standing under a tree just down the footpath with a ready eye, this had been the exact spot in which they had stood and she had said those words.
“Very well, then,” he said, reaching over to grab a rose.
Her hand, however, shot out and touched his forearm. He stared at her in bewilderment as she said, “We do not need you tearing your sleeve and embarrassing yourself again, do we?”
Andrew found himself unable to move, his shock was so great.
“What is it?” Lucy asked. Then she released his arm and gazed around her in shock, a hand over her mouth. “Your
sleeve. My mother…over there.”
Andrew nodded. “Yes! You scolded me…” he said in an attempt to encourage her to remember.
The rain had increased in volume, but Andrew cared not. His love was remembering, and he would stand there for the rest of his life if it meant her returning to him whole once again.
“I remember no more of that day,” she said excitedly, “but I do remember you tearing your sleeve!” She jumped up and down like a child who had just received a wonderful gift and then swung her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
Andrew reveled in her embrace and closed his arms around her as she sobbed into his chest.
“Oh, Andrew,” she cried, “I remember something! It feels so wonderful!”
As Lucy cried tears of joy, Andrew allowed a single tear to escape his eye as well. The woman in his arms, his wife and, more importantly, his love recalled a single moment from the pages of times past. And though the story of their love was nowhere near complete, this memory was certainly a wonderful beginning.
Chapter Fifteen
Monday came round sporting blue skies with a scattering of clouds, though it had rained throughout the night. A new housekeeper had been appointed but would not begin until the following day, the former housekeeper having given her notice due to her sister falling ill and needing a caregiver. Hence, Hannah had taken over the woman’s duties until the arrival of the new housekeeper.
Lucy looked forward to the arrival of her friends Mrs. Eliza Treverton, Lady Martha Sorenson, and Lady Nancy Drake. She had spent many an afternoon gossiping over cups of tea, and despite all she had forgotten, Lucy felt a sense of excitement and comfort at the possibility of resuming her life as she knew it once again.
She walked over to the window, which overlooked the gardens, and gazed at the rose bush where she had stood the previous day with Andrew. How delighted she had been remembering that he had torn his sleeve on that very bush, and though it was all she recalled, she was thankful for that one tidbit of memory. It had bought a joy to her heart, and she had to admit that being in Andrew’s embrace had brought up another feeling, as well. Safety. In his arms, crying into his chest, she had never felt so secure. The embrace had been firm and yet gentle. Granted, he was a rogue of sorts at times, but at that moment, he was more like the man from when she had awakened after her accident. He was handsome, strikingly so, and though their squabbling angered her, she could not stop the attraction she felt for him.
A gardener walked past with a shovel on his shoulder, and for a moment Lucy was drawn out of her thoughts, but once he disappeared from sight, she once again fell into thoughts of Andrew. Rogue or not, he had remained a gentleman. Some nights she worried he would storm into her room and press his lips to hers as she attempted to escape him.
Her cheeks heated up when she admitted inwardly that she might not try to stop his advances. Nevertheless, her memory returning was of the utmost importance, much more significant than kissing a man she did not love.
“Your Grace,” Mason announced in a formal tone, “Mrs. Eliza Treverton has arrived.”
Lucy turned and Eliza entered, her white dress billowing around her slippers. A pink ribbon matched the tiny pink tambour flowers on the bust and around the hem of her skirts, and Lucy found herself admiring the woman’s tastes immediately.
“Eliza,” Lucy said as she kissed the woman’s cheek. “Thank you for coming.” She gazed behind Eliza and added, “You are alone?”
“Yes, unfortunately, Martha and Nancy had prior engagements.” She took a step away and looked Lucy up and down. “You look well. I trust you are feeling better?”
“Oh, yes,” Lucy replied. “I am making progress with my memory.” Then remembering her manners, she indicated a beige settee with large purple and red flower print. “Please, sit. I will have tea brought to us.” She went to the bell chord and pulled it and in no time, Millie arrived and gave a quick bob. “Would you see that tea is brought up?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the young girl said with another quick curtsy before turning and rushing out the door to do her mistress’s bidding.
Lucy took a seat on the opposite end of the settee and smiled. “I must admit it is wonderful to see you again,” she said. “There is so much I wish to discuss with you.”
Eliza moved a loose strand of hair from her face. “Oh? Well, ask away, my friend. However, before we begin, you must tell me…what is the last thing you remember?”
Lucy was not surprised by the woman’s request; it had to be a topic of great interest among the gossip-mongers these days. However, Eliza’s tone told Lucy the woman was more concerned for Lucy’s well-being than for gathering ammunition for the latest discussion groups. She shared with Eliza her last memories and then explained that everything that happened after that point in her life was clean as a blank slate.
“I do remember a majority of the stories we shared when we met for tea,” Lucy explained, though she felt her face heat up at the memories of each woman sharing what she had heard about someone else and how everyone had an opinion about what had happened. “How I miss those days.”
The tea arrived, and once it had been served, Eliza took a sip from her teacup, but Lucy did not miss the slight scrunch of the woman’s brow. “What is it?” she asked. “Is there some tidbit of gossip I do not know about? Or is this something concerning me?” She said the latter with trepidation. Had she now become a topic of gossip? The idea horrified her somehow. Every woman was subject of gossip at one time or another, but when she learned of it, knowing so did not lesson the misery of it.
“It is not that,” Eliza assured her. “I am simply surprised. The last time we spoke, you informed me that you did not wish to listen to such things anymore.”
Lucy laughed. She not wanting to hear gossip? That was highly unlikely; she reveled in it. “I do not recall saying such a thing, but I assure you, I wish to learn as many new juicy tidbits you have as I ever did.”
Eliza set her teacup in the saucer and leaned forward. “Very well, then,” she said excitedly, “I do have a juicy tidbit. Are you acquainted with Lord Linfield?”
The name sounded familiar to Lucy and it took her several moments to recall the man. “I believe so, yes. He was at the party hosted by Lord Perry for the New Year.” It was also where Andrew had first asked her to dance, but she kept that information to herself. “I believe he is married, but was there not something concerning his wife?”
Eliza smiled as she picked up her teacup once again. It was always a sign when she delayed in the telling that the information was indeed quite good. “One of his scullery maids became pregnant.”
“And?” Lucy asked expectantly.
“It seems,” Eliza continued with a lowered tone. “this is a miracle in itself, seeing as the Earl’s wife is unable to bear children but the maid can.”
Lucy gasped. “So, the Earl is the father?”
Eliza nodded. “Not only is he the father, but rumor has it that his wife, the Countess, has run off with the Earl’s brother!”
Lucy shook her head in disbelief, just as she would be expected to do; however, there was an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was not a memory exactly but rather the feeling of having discussed these people in much the same way. Yet, that was not what bothered her. For whatever reason, hearing about the misery of others did not hold the same sense of exhilaration as it once had.
“Oh, I cannot blame the woman for leaving,” Eliza said as she brought her teacup back up to her lips and took a sip. “I cannot imagine living with a rogue such as he.”
When it seemed Eliza might consider telling Lucy another juicy tidbit, Lucy decided it was time to ask her questions. “Eliza, what do you remember of Lord Balfour and my courtship?” she asked, trying to sound as casual as she could. “I must admit that I am afraid I do not recall parts of it and I wish to fill in the information that is missing.”
“Well, let me see,” Eliza mused. “I was preparing for my wedding
to James, so we did not speak often at that time. However, I do remember you saying on more than one occasion how handsome he was and that you were willing to look past…” she stopped suddenly and focused on adding another teaspoon of sugar to her tea, although she had already added two. “This tea is quite lovely.”
“What is it?” Lucy asked as her heart beat against her chest. “What was I willing to look past?”
Eliza glanced over her shoulder and then leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper. “You were upset because you suspected that he had eyes for another woman, although you refused to tell me who that woman was. The next time I saw you, it was several months later, nearly Christmas time, and you had sent word of your engagement, so I assumed you had forgiven him.”
Lucy pursed her lips. So, her suspicions had been correct when she had awoken a few weeks ago. Andrew was most definitely a rogue. However, who was this woman rumored to have caught his eye? And why had Lucy chosen to look past it and marry the man anyway?
***
An hour remained before Lucy was to meet Andrew for dinner. Eliza had left only moments before and Lucy searched her mind as to whom this other woman who had caught Andrew’s eye had been. He was handsome enough to have many admirers, but if he was the rogue she remembered him as, any number of women could have been the object of his affections.
The door opened and Hannah entered looking splendid in her new pink dress with white flowers and lace. She still did not seem accustomed to wearing such clothing, nor sitting in the drawing room, for her demeanor was stiff and she had an air of nervousness surrounding her. The woman had a handsomeness about her, an innocence, and Lucy wondered if she knew anything of this mystery woman who had batted her eyelashes at Andrew.
“Hannah, my friend,” Lucy said sweetly. “Would you walk with me in the gardens before dinner?”
“I’d love to,” Hannah replied, her nervousness seeming to lift.
They made their way to the veranda and out into the gardens. A few lone clouds moved in front of the lowering sun, casting a momentary shadow over the pair as they strolled along, their steps slow and leisurely.
The Duchess Remembers Page 10