by Jane Charles
“But it will,” Elaina insisted. “As soon as I heard your name, Xavier, I recalled that you were in medical school. When I heard Micah’s, I remembered him in his uniform.”
Xavier slid an eye to the youngest. “Is that so, or did you tell her?”
“I did not.”
Xavier studied Elaina for a few more moments. “Very well.”
Elaina turned and studied the room, then looked to the man by the fireplace.
“Lucian.”
She smiled. “Lucian….Sinclair.” She now remembered her last name. Or what it had been before she married Tristan. Excitement rushed through her being. It would only be a matter of time before all of her memories were recovered. Of that she was quite certain. “The Earl of Garretson,” she said as much as a surprise to herself as anyone else.
“Can you tell me anything else?” he asked out of curiosity.
Yes, she could but one memory of Lucian stuck out. “You collect rocks.”
He laughed.
“You have your treasure room, as you like to call it, with rocks, gems, minerals and fossils all under glass and a library of books on the subject.”
He frowned. “That is an odd memory.”
“Not really, because you used to spend a vast amount of time in there.” She studied him. “You wished you could have become a geologist, travel and study, but were denied because you were the heir.”
Sadness filled her. Lucian had dreams that he’d not been able to follow all because he’d been born first.
“Yes, well, be that as it may. I can pursue the study from Wyndhill Manor.”
More memories came. “Except, you decided to concentrate on gems.” She looked into his eyes. “Did you invest in diamond and emerald mines in Africa?”
“Yes, I did.”
Satisfied that there was hope for her memories, she looked to the gentleman who had a book open on his lap.
“Asher,” he offered.
Yes! Asher! Asher was horse mad and learned to ride when he was still practically on leading strings. Elaina grinned. “You took over the stables when you left school. You wanted to improve the racing stock.”
“That is correct.” He returned her smile.
She then looked to the gentleman who had joined her outside.
“Silas.” He bowed with formality.
She frowned. “You were at Eton, but that was three years ago so I don’t know what you’ve made of yourself.”
“He’s considering the clergy,” Lucian offered. “But is taking his time in deciding what to do with himself.” The tone indicated that the oldest believed Asher should have decided by now and gotten on with it. He was twenty, she believed, and perhaps he should have furthered his education after Eton. Did he come home and not continue on at Oxford or Cambridge?
Even though she’d never known about herself, she knew everything else, such as the universities gentlemen attended following Eton, who was king, or anything she would have recalled from reading books or the newsheets, but nothing of a personal nature.
Elaina frowned as she studied Silas. “I’m not certain you have the temperament. Most pastors are, well dull and strict.”
Micah barked out laughter. “I do believe our sister is going to recover quite well.”
Xavier slid him a warning look. “A few facts does not make a memory whole. We must still proceed with caution.”
“Yes, Sir.” Micah saluted his older brother.
At that, Harrison stepped forward. “Do you now recall me at all, or Tristan, or anyone?”
Elaina frowned and as much as she tried, other than Portsmouth, the rest of Harrison’s family were no more than strangers that she’d not met before. “I’m sorry, my earliest memory of you was when you appeared in Mr. Abbott’s home.”
His shoulders slumped with disappointment, but she couldn’t pretend to remember something she did not.
Chapter 10
Tristan was due to return any day and Elaina still had no memory of him, their marriage, or of Cornwall.
“You appear troubled,” Lucian remarked as she wandered into his treasure room.
“The holes that remain in my memory continue to plague me.” Elaina had intentionally come in search of her older brother, knowing that he’d be here, and alone. Every time she broached the subject of what she was missing, Xavier was always around to warn her brothers away from saying anything that might disturb Elaina. Did he bother to take into consideration that not knowing could be as equally disturbing?
“I’m certain they will return in time,” he assured her as he returned a book to its shelf.
“What are you doing?”
He held out a stone of various shades of blues and greens. It was really quite lovely. “Where did you get this one?”
“It was sent to me from Ma…a friend.”
“Lucian,” Elaina nearly whined.
“I cannot say the name because you’d wonder at the context.”
Oh, this was so frustrating and why didn’t anyone realize that an actual name with context would help?
“Can you at least tell me what it is?”
“Eilat Stone.”
“Where is it from?”
He just stared at her. Apparently, a location could also give her a clue.
Blast them all!
“You are the earl, not Xavier. Shouldn’t you be making the rules?” The few memories that she had of being a miss, ready to embark on her first Season, were of Lucian being more than a bit dictatorial. She’d chafed at taking orders from him, especially since he was only two years older than her. He was her guardian and the Earl of Garretson, so Elaina had to do what she’d been told. But Lucian had also worried that he’d not be able to protect her or that he’d agree to a match that would leave her miserable and had wondered if either one of them were old enough to know what was best. He’d taken to running the estate and seeing to his younger siblings as any lord would and approached his position with a seriousness that Elaina rarely witnessed in someone of his age. Yet, his constant worry was her, no matter how often she promised that she could take care of herself and wouldn’t make any rash decisions.
“In this instance, I bow to my younger brother, the physician.”
“You are so aggravating. Have you always been so?”
He laughed. “You accused me of it often enough.”
“Are you certain you should have told me that? Isn’t that giving me a clue to my past?” she questioned sarcastically.
Lucian ignored her. “Let’s take tea and you can tell me about the holes in your memory that are bothering you.”
Elaina blew out a sigh and followed Lucian from his treasure room and into the parlor where a service was being delivered, as it always was at this time of day whether anyone was present or not. “I have regained a number of my memories these past few days, up until our parents died. Then there is a large gap. I remember nothing from after the funeral to being here to prepare for my first Season in London. Further, I recall very little of that as well and I am not at all certain I enjoyed myself. Then my mind goes blank again, until I woke on Alderney.”
“You recall nothing from when you were thirteen until you were seventeen?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. It was so very vexing. Why could she recall a childhood but nothing else?
“And you still recall nothing of Tristan, the family, or your home in Cornwall?”
“No. It’s as if I’d never met them before Harrison took me to Portsmouth.”
Lucian took a sip of tea and sat in thought for a moment. “I wonder why that is?”
“I wonder as well. You would think one should remember one’s husband. Why had I gone to France without my husband?” she asked. “Had I run away? Is Tristan a cruel husband?” That had been one of her fears because why would she have left him for a country they were at war with?
“I can’t give you an answer, as you know.”
“Or won’t?” she argued.
“I
can assure you that Tristan was not cruel, but don’t let Xavier know I told you.” He winked.
Elaina blew out a breath. It had been one of the fears that had plagued her because the circumstances were so very strange.
“I honestly don’t know why you don’t remember those years or the rest of your Season.”
“As in one Season. Did I have more?”
This time Lucian narrowed his eyes and stared her down.
“Oh, why does Xavier insist on me learning on my own? I might never recall, and it would be much simpler if everyone would just tell me.”
“He worries that in providing such information it could—”
“—could prove to be detrimental to my sensibilities,” Eliana mimicked Xavier. “The not knowing could prove to be just as detrimental if I don’t receive any answers.” With that she set her teacup and saucer on the table and stood.
“You have only begun to get your memories back,” Xavier said as he stepped from the shadows.
How long had he been there listening to them? Did he follow her around, ready to interrupt if someone was going to provide her with too much information?
Odd, from what she was able to remember, it had been Lucian who was annoying. Apparently, Xavier had taken on that role. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Just long enough.” He sauntered further into the room and poured himself a cup of tea.
Chapter 11
As Wyndhill Park came into view, Tristan blew out a sigh of relief. He’d received no word from Garretson or any member of the family and was anxious to learn if Elaina had recovered her memories.
Once the carriage pulled to a stop, Tristan exited, eager to see his wife—his one and only wife—his now very much legally alive wife—and bounded for the entrance, which was opened by the butler before Tristan could even knock.
“Where might my wife be?”
“In the gardens, I believe, Lord Hopkins.”
“A word, Hopkins.” Xavier stepped out of the library.
“I’d like to see Elaina first. I’ll speak with you later.”
“Don’t you wish to know her progress?”
“I’d hoped she’d recovered her memory,” Tristan stated. “Harrison wrote that what he witnessed that first day was promising and it’s been nearly a fortnight.”
“Yes, promising but she’s not nearly recovered.”
His hope sank, and Tristan followed his brother-in-law into the library where Garretson also waited. “Have her memories returned or have they not?”
“Some,” Garretson answered as he poured brandy into a glass.
“What has she recalled and what is missing?” Tristan demanded. “Tell me that she at least remembers me.”
Xavier and Garretson shared a look and Tristan knew that he was still a stranger to his wife. Then he was told what years Elaina could recall, what she remembered and what portions of her life were blank.
“She recalls nothing after?”
“No,” Garretson answered.
“I believe her memories are tied to either a person or a place. She was with my brother in London which is why she might recall a fraction of her time there, but all other memories were from when she lived at Wyndhill Park.”
“Then if I take her home, she might begin to remember me, our children.”
“In time, possibly,” Xavier offered.
“In time?” Tristan wanted to take her home now. He wanted his family to be whole again.
“She’s not recalled everything of her childhood, and I’d prefer she remain here where I can watch over her progress with you.”
“I’m her husband,” Tristan argued. “There is nothing to watch over.” How dare Xavier believe that he could usurp Tristan’s role in Elaina’s life.
“I’m not saying that she needs to stay here forever, only long enough to become comfortable with you again.”
As much as he hated the circumstances, Tristan had to concede that he was still very much a stranger to his wife. However, perhaps he wouldn’t be if he were allowed to take her home.
“She needs more time adapting to Wyndhill Park and hopefully more memories will emerge and she’ll finally be comfortable traveling to your home.”
Tristan didn’t like this change in his plans, but what was most important was Elaina and her recovery.
“Do the same rules still apply?” Tristan finally asked.
“Yes. You can answer questions, but not too specifically.”
“I can’t tell her about our children?”
“No,” Garretson and Xavier answered at the same time.
Alarm rushed through him.
“She should not be told of someone she’s not yet seen and cannot remember. I can’t begin to predict Elaina’s reaction if she learns that she’s forgotten her own children.”
Tristan let the words sink in. The Elaina before the ship would have believed it impossible to forget Jonas or Eloise. If she were still the same person, it might be just as harmful to learn that she had. Tristan thrust his fingers through his hair and reluctantly agreed to hold to Xavier’s rules. “I’ll not tell her anything.”
“She’s walking in the gardens,” Garretson offered.
“Thank you.” And with that, Tristan made his way to the open doors and out onto the terrace, heart heavy, stopping only when Elaina came into view. His pulse quickened at the sight of her beside a sea of pink, blue and white delphinium’s in full bloom, her golden hair falling across her shoulder and her head tilted in such a manner that the sun shone upon her beauty.
His wife, Elaina, was truly back. She hadn’t died.
Even though he’d seen her not even a fortnight ago, their meeting had been too short, especially after three years. The longer he had been away in London to see about one marriage being dissolved and his wife being declared alive, he’d begun to wonder if it was all true or if he had longed for her so deeply that he’d imagined her return.
She was here, and Tristan couldn’t wait to take her home. To return to the happiness of what once was. To bring the joy back into the household as there’d been little since he had learned of her demise.
“Elaina,” he called.
She turned and glanced at Tristan then gave a quick nod as she slowly moved in his direction. Her back was straight, chin level, and her mouth set in a manner one used to greet a stranger and not as someone anxious to see her husband after a long parting.
In the past, before she’d sailed to France, when the two of them had been separated for only a few days, Elaina always rushed toward Tristan and they’d embrace and tell the other how much they missed the other.
Elaina still didn’t remember him. Xavier had said as much, but Tristan had still hoped that with her other memories returning that once she saw him again, she’d recall what they once shared.
“Did you have a safe and pleasant journey?” she asked as if he was no more than a mild acquaintance.
“Yes,” he answered absently, searching her green eyes for some sign of recognition, that he was more than someone she’d just met, but it wasn’t there. No love, no teasing, no warmth, no laughter.
“Your marriage? Was it annulled?”
“It is as if it never was.”
Elaina gave a slight nod. “And me? Am I alive again?”
“Yes, you are.” He smiled.
She frowned, studying him, her light eyebrows drawing together above her nose, causing the slightest of wrinkles to appear. “I do hope my return hasn’t caused you heartache. Did you love Lady Jillian so much?”
“I didn’t love her at all,” he answered honestly. “We were friends, caught in an awkward situation.” Tristan would tell Elaina the whole of it one day, when they returned to what they’d once been. Though, perhaps she might not appreciate the fact that he’d kissed another, even though the world had believed Elaina had been dead for three years.
Elaina nodded as if she understood.
“How are you? Xavier told me that you are
beginning to remember.”
She sighed. “Not as much as I’d hoped, but everyday something new is revealed.”
He led her to a bench so that they could sit and talk. It’s what they’d done when he’d called on her and they’d gone walking in London and it appeared that they were to start courting all over again.
Elaina had hoped that when Tristan returned she would recognize him as her husband, that the memories of their life would begin to come to her, much like her childhood had in her brothers’ presences and being at Wyndhill Park, but he was just as much a stranger as he’d been in Portsmouth.
Oh, this was so maddening, more so than when she knew nothing while living in Alderney. Then her life had been a complete blank and somehow it was easier than having holes with no explanation.
“Tell me about your life on Alderney,” Tristan said.
She wasn’t certain that she should. “Why?”
I want to know where you were, what you were doing, what your life has been like.”
“Harrison didn’t tell you?”
“Very little and I assume he didn’t know much. He was more concerned with Dr. Webber’s prognosis and course of treatment.”
“Very well,” she sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to share everything with him, but what would his reaction be to Clive? Then again, Tristan had married another in her absence so it wasn’t as if he could have a complaint. With that, Elaina told him everything from waking in the Pettigrew’s home, being a companion, Clive’s courtship, the minister’s assurance that she was free, and the betrothal, up until Harrison called her name.
“Did you love him?”
“Clive?”
“Yes, the man you intended to marry.”
“In a way, I suppose. He was a good, kind man and I knew he would be good to me.” Elaina couldn’t look into Tristan’s eyes. “I didn’t wish to be alone for the rest of my life, always wondering. After three years, I assumed I’d never remember so I decided to begin anew.”
He just nodded.
“Are you angry?”
“Jealous,” he acknowledged. “I missed you in ways I didn’t think it were possible to miss a person, but I understand that in the circumstances in which you found yourself why you’d turn to another.”