A woman with hair the color of fire approached Lucy with a smile. Lucy could not help but stare at her. She was one of the most beautiful women Lucy had ever seen, with kindness that showed in her eyes, which were the color of emeralds. She was several years older than Lucy and it was clear she came from a wealthy upbringing given the way she held herself.
“Your Graces,” she said with a nod, “allow me to introduce myself. I am Alice Blackmoore. Welcome to my shop.”
***
There were so many varieties of fabrics, Lucy struggled to choose which colors she should use for her new hat. Andrew had left, more than likely bored with her indecision but too much a gentleman to comment, saying he would be in another shop down the way. Lucy had waved at him without looking up from the board of swatches she was studying, and she had received a laugh for her inattentiveness.
“I cannot believe you are from Exeter,” the woman, who had insisted she be addressed simply as Alice, said. “And your home, it is not even a half-day’s journey from my own!”
“You are more than welcome to come by my estate for a visit whenever you are staying at Shetfield Manor. I would so enjoy your company.” She studied the sign on the wall. “I would be very interested to know how you came about the name for your shop,” she said.
Alice laughed. “When I first arrived in St. Mawes, even before I had lain my head on a pillow for the night, I spoke with a kind woman on one of the rocky beaches on Rosewalk Cliffs. According to her, the cliffs were named for Rhos, the Celtic word for gorse, which I found amusing.”
Lucy felt her eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline. “That is interesting,” she said. “I would have thought it was because perhaps wild roses grew in the area.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Alice replied. “I loved the word, so I decided it would make a wonderful name for my shop. So, there you have it. Rhos Millinery.”
“Well, I believe it is a wonderful name,” Lucy said. Then she glanced around at the busy shop. “It has brought you great luck, I must say. You seem to have many clients.”
Alice laughed. “Yes, I have been quite blessed. Not only do I have this shop, I have one in London and am looking at a location in Exeter for a third.”
Lucy gasped. “How marvelous! I will be able to purchase more hats when I am home.”
“Speaking of purchases, have you decided on your choices of colors?”
Lucy returned her attention to the fabrics and ribbons. She ran her finger across a swatch of bright yellow. “I believe I would enjoy this fabric,” she said firmly. “It represents the sun and the warmth and brightness it gives us.”
Alice smiled. “How poetic!”
Then Lucy chose a striking blue ribbon. “And this blue, for his eyes.”
Alice nodded. “Very romantic.”
“And finally, I would like this dark red as a reminder that the sun sets with a promise of a new day.”
Alice had noted each choice on a small form and then looked up at Lucy with a wide smile. “What a wonderful story your new hat will tell,” she said with great admiration, which made Lucy blush profusely. “It will take several days for us to complete your order, but I will send a message to you when it is ready.”
“That would be wonderful,” Lucy replied. “We are on our honeymoon, so we will be here for two weeks. Will that be sufficient time?”
“Oh, quite enough time,” Alice said. “As a matter of fact, it should be completed in three days’ time.”
The bell above the door tinkled lightly and Lucy turned to see Andrew enter.
“Did you choose one?” he asked.
She laughed. “I did, my sweet husband,” she said. “But a lady’s hat takes some time to design. I will be picking it up by the end of the week.”
After saying goodbye to the lovely milliner, Andrew led Lucy outside. They crossed the road and walked down the long pier. Then they walked down a long staircase to the right, which led to a sandy beach, and the sand crunched under their shoes as they made their way to the far side while seagulls called out to one another above them.
“Oh, Andrew, it is beautiful, is it not?” Lucy said in awe.
“I must say, it is a sight indeed,” he replied.
They stopped and gazed over the water. The laughter of children made Lucy turn, and she watched as two young boys chased after one another, their feet flicking sand up into the air behind them. A path winding its way up a hill caught her eye, and she smiled. “There,” she said, pointing at the crest of the hill. “We will be able see the end of the Earth from there.”
“Very well,” Andrew said, though his voice was a bit skeptical. He did tend to have a fear of heights.
“I will go on my own, if you prefer,” Lucy teased.
“Oh, no, you will not,” Andrew said. He insisted that she begin the climb before him, stating that it would be much easier for him to catch her if she fell than the other way around.
“Oh, you worry too much,” Lucy said breathily as she made her way up the steep embankment. When she reached the top of the hill, she followed the thin path to the edge overlooking the beach from where they had come, shading her eyes from the bright sun. “What an amazing view!”
“Lucy!” Andrew shouted. “Come away from there this instant.”
“I am a grown woman not a child,” she shouted as she inched her foot closer to the edge to allow her to look upon the rocks below.
“Lucy, what are you doing?” Andrew called out in a choked voice.
As she peered down the side, the ground beneath her shifted and her foot shot forward of its own accord. The world around her had slowed to a crawl, and she felt herself falling. She tried to scream, but her stomach shifted into her back as the rocks rose toward her. The last thing she remembered was Andrew screaming and darkness overtaking her before her body hit the ground below.
Chapter Three
It was quiet, too quiet in fact. Lucy's head throbbed as she slowly opened her eyes and attempted to focus her vision. She was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling groggy and wondering what had come over her. Then her memory returned. The previous night, she had attended an engagement party for Louise Benson and had managed to slip away with Charlotte with a stolen bottle of brandy.
She smiled as she wondered how much trouble they had gotten into for their actions. Although she remembered she and Charlotte and their mischievousness at stealing the brandy, no other events that followed would come to mind. What she did know was that they had sneaked away to another room and passed the bottle between each other. Before that, Lord Andrew Balfour, the handsome Duke who was the subject of countless rumors, had asked her for a dance. She had searched for any excuse to dismiss him; however, in the end, he had led her to join the other couples on the dance floor.
Lucy made an attempt to sit and a small groan escaped her lips when everything around her shifted precariously before her. She sighed and dropped back into the pillow and waited for her vision to right itself once again before taking a look at her surroundings. It was then that she realized that she was not lying in the room she had been assigned. This room was much larger and more fitting for the Lord and Lady of the house rather than a guest with its beautifully carved oak wardrobes and large windows that overlooked the garden.
She attempted to sit once again, this time moving gingerly so as to keep the room from spinning around her. When she successfully had pulled herself up, she leaned back against the headboard and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hand as she searched her mind for more of what had happened the previous evening. A memory of her literally walking into Lord Andrew Balfour made her tense. He had turned to her with a devilish smile and then had leaned in and kissed her!
She brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a scream. The rogue had pulled her against him, but she had not put up much of a fight. As much as she hated to admit it, the kiss had been lovely, causing her to shiver even thinking about it. On a small side table sat a pitcher of water, so she forced her
stiff legs over the edge of the bed and attempted to stand. Her legs, however, refused to support her and she had to grab the edge of the bed to steady herself. When she finally made it to the water pitcher, she poured herself a glass, surprised at how dry her mouth was.
“Serves you right for drinking that brandy,” she admonished herself with a mumble. As she took another sip of the cool water, she wondered how Charlotte was feeling this morning. If the girl had drunk as much as Lucy had, she was probably not in any better condition than Lucy was at this moment. One thing Lucy knew for sure, she was done with any form of alcohol from this day forward. She certainly did not want to feel this way ever again in her life.
She made her way back to the bed. At one point she considered dressing, but her head pounded so fiercely, she felt it be best if she tried to rest a bit longer. When she was once again under the covers, she leaned back into the pillows and closed her eyes. However, before she could fall back to sleep, the door opened and her mother entered, her head low and her face haggard. Had something terrible happened the previous evening about which Lucy knew nothing? Lady Honeyfield held a book in her hand and looked sadly at the floor as she made her way to a chair in the far corner.
“Good morning, Mother,” Lucy said. How angry the woman must be if she was there before Lucy was dressed for the day.
“Lucy?” her mother said in a choked voice that made Lucy crinkle her brow. “Oh, Lucy, you have awoken!” Before Lucy could react further, her mother leaned over and pulled Lucy into her arms and held her in a tight hug. “Oh, my sweet child, I have waited so long for you to awaken.” Her mother sobbed into Lucy’s shoulder and Lucy marveled at the woman’s emotions.
“Mother, of course I am awake,” Lucy said with a laugh.
Her mother leaned back as if in awe. Tears were rolling down her face as she took Lucy’s hand in hers. “My beautiful daughter,” she fawned, “I have missed you so much. You have no idea how worried I have been over you.”
Lucy felt a pang of guilt and embarrassment. Although she could only recall drinking only a moderate amount of brandy, judging by her mother’s reaction she had consumed much more than she had first realized. To what degree she had embarrassed or brought shame to her family, she did not know, but it was clear she needed to apologize for it.
“Mother,” Lucy said, straightening her back, “I must admit that Charlotte and I drank a bit too much brandy last evening and for that, I am sorry.”
“Last night?” her mother asked, her brows crunching together.
“Yes,” Lucy said, wondering why her mother was acting so strange. “The party for Louise. Oh, I hope I did not bring them shame as well.” She gave her mother a firm nod. “Nevertheless, it was a lesson well learned, and I will refrain from alcohol for the foreseeable future, that I can promise you.”
Her mother shook her head, and Lucy wondered what had upset her mother so. Many people her age had done much worse than she and Charlotte had…unless they had gotten so drunk they had done something horrible.
“Lucy,” her mother said, her hand moving to Lucy's shoulder. “What party are you speaking of?” The look on her mother’s face made Lucy smile. She knew what her mother was hinting at. She wanted to know how much Lucy had to drink and whether or not she could recall last night’s events.
“I speak of Louise’s engagement party,” Lucy explained. “Father was with Lord McElroy most of the evening while Charlotte and I spent time together.” She gave her mother a beseeching look. “Mother, I admitted I stole the bottle of brandy, and if this is a matter of cost, I will be prepared to reimburse the Bensons and apologize.”
“I…you should know something about that party,” her mother started to say. However, before she could finish her sentence, a man in his middle years entered the room, his hair dark with numerous streaks of silver.
“Doctor Cooke,” Lady Honeyfield said as she stood from the bed.
Doctor Cooke walked up to the bed, a smile on his face. “I see our patient has awakened,” he said.
Lucy sighed. This was getting a bit silly. A doctor had been summoned simply because she had consumed too much drink? “Yes, I am awake,” she said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice and failing miserably. “And yes, I am sorry for drinking so much at the party last night.”
Her mother gave her a look of horror. “Oh, Doctor, she believes her friend’s engagement party was last night.”
The doctor gave a nod and he brought his hand to his chin as he gazed at Lucy. “I see,” he said in a low voice. Then he turned to Lady Honeywell. “Come, let us step out of the room for just a moment, please.”
The two hurried out of the room. Lucy sighed. What did her mother mean that Lucy thought the engagement party was last night? Of course, it was. Unless…Her hand covered her mouth. She had made a drunken fool of herself and slept for two days! Oh, how her friends would spread this tale far and wide. Tears came to her eyes as she began to plan her move. Her aunt and uncle in Kent would readily take her, though she would have to live her life in shame forever.
Her mother and Doctor Cooke returned to the room, and Lucy wondered at the tears that ran down her mother’s face. Rather than appearing angry, she seemed rather sad. What a strange reaction.
“Tell me,” the doctor said as he stood next to the bed, “what are some of the last things you remember?”
Lucy glanced at her mother, who gave her an encouraging nod. Apparently, it was fine to admit to drunkenness to the doctor. “Last night was the engagement party for Miss Louise Benson and Lord George Keats. It was a lovely party, from what I remember.” She knew her cheeks had to be a bright crimson. What an embarrassment to admit all this to someone she did not know. “My best friend Miss Charlotte Markison and I took a bottle of brandy and sneaked it away. Although I recall only taking a few sips, I admit it got the best of me. Perhaps I drank more than I initially thought.”
The doctor nodded and then looked over at Lady Honeyfield, who seemed to be taking the fact Lucy had been drinking very hard, and Lucy regretted hurting her so. She must have made quite the spectacle of herself.
“Do you recall anything else?” the doctor asked. “Does anything else come to mind?”
Lucy glanced once again at her mother. She had already hurt the poor woman, but how would she take her encounter with Andrew?
“Last night, Andrew…that is, His Grace Andrew Balfour, stole a kiss. And yes, I enjoyed it, so much in fact that I allowed him to have another when the guests were leaving.” She cleared her throat and stared at a dark spot on the wallpaper on the far wall. This was the part she did not wish to divulge, but it seemed she had no choice. “Although I gave the impression that I had not enjoyed it, I had, in fact, enjoyed it very much.”
“Oh, Doctor Benson!” her mother said with excitement, “this is wonderful news indeed. She remembers her husband.”
Lucy’s mind raced as she stared at her mother. Then the door opened and her heart jumped into her throat when she saw Andrew Balfour, the roguish Duke who had stolen a kiss from her, standing in the doorway. Though his face held its usual sternness, this time he also wore a kind smile. Was he attempting to woo a woman who was ill from too much drink?
“Lucy, my love, you are awake!” he said.
Lucy had had enough and she threw back the covers and attempted to stand once again, this time with less swaying, although she still had to hold on to a table. “I am not your love, nor am I your wife,” she spat at the arrogant man. “I have learned my lesson and am through playing games with the likes of you. Mother, must you humiliate me further? I have already apologized for my reckless behavior and I promise not to it again.”
Andrew lifted her hand, and Lucy saw for the first time the gold band on her finger that matched the one he wore on his. When she looked up, she expected everyone to begin laughing, revealing that they had been jesting the entire time. However, their faces remained serious.
Then Lucy’s head began to spin and she screamed
.
Chapter Four
Andrew Balfour's heart raced and broke at the same time. As Lucy screamed, he realized that something was horribly wrong with his wife. Her mother went quickly to her side to calm her, but Lucy was having none of it. Instead, she began to argue.
“Mother, I do not understand why you feel you must torment me so. Must I get on my knees and beg your forgiveness?”
Although Andrew longed to say something to reassure her, he kept quiet. He did not wish to upset her further.
“He is your husband,” Lady Honeyfield insisted. “And you may want to return to your bed and cover yourself.”
Lucy looked down and let out another shriek. She was in nothing more than a thin shift, and she hurried back to her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.
“You, Andrew Balfour, are a rouge!” she shouted. “How dare you look at me in such a state of undress! First you steal a kiss, and now you dare steal a peek at my innocence?” Her anger was so strong, her voice shook as she screamed at him.
Doctor Cooke stood absently rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Your Grace,” he said after much deliberation, addressing Lucy directly.
“It is Miss Honeyfield,” she spat.
“Yes, of course,” the doctor corrected himself. “Miss Honeyfield, allow me to speak to your mother and His Grace in private.” He turned and nodded at Andrew and Lady Honeyfield, who followed him out into the hallway. Andrew stole a peek back at Lucy before the door closed. Had she gone insane? He cared not the cost of having her looked after, for he would find the finest doctors in all of England to make her well again.
“May we retreat to the library?” Dr. Cooke asked.
“Of course,” Andrew replied. “Follow me.” He led them down the hallway and into the library. Hannah, one of the maids, came to the door immediately. “Bring us tea, please, Hannah.”
The Duchess Remembers Page 2
