The Duchess Remembers

by Monroe, Jennifer

  Hannah’s cheeks went pink. “Well, you complained about the tea, the furniture, the gardens. You even winked at me as you did so.”

  “I winked at you?” Lucy asked with a raise of her eyebrows. “So, we have become friends?”

  “Yes, as friendly as a Lady and a servant can be, that is,” Hannah replied with a wide smile. “You confided many things to me, and I have never told a soul anything you’ve told me.” Now her smile was proud as she sat up straighter on the bench.

  Lucy contemplated this information and came to realize this was not surprising. Hannah was a kind person, an easy woman to whom she could speak, and if she was visiting as early as a week after she and Lord Balfour had begun courting, she would have searched out someone from whom she could glean information. Someone who might have been on the side of the enemy, as it were.

  How strange it was to think of the man she was said to have married as the enemy; however, from what she could recall of the Duke of Pendlow, she would have needed as much support as she could muster.

  Hannah placed a timid hand on Lucy’s. “It’s all right, Your Gra…em…Lucy,” she said softly. “I know you have forgotten a lot of things. But if you need to know anything, all you need to do is ask. If I know, I’ll tell you. I promise.”

  Lucy gave Hannah a grateful smile. There was so much she did not know, so many questions she wished to ask; however, one thing stood above the others. “My mother said that Lord Balfour and I fell in love. I cannot imagine for the life of me that being possible, but I know that my mother does not lie.”

  “No, she hasn’t.”

  “Very well. You saw the Duke and I together many times.” Lucy gave Hannah a beseeching look. “Was I in love with him?”

  Hannah nodded, her blue eyes shining. “‘Tis true,” she said. “I was there to watch it all unfold in front of my very eyes. It was a beautiful thing to witness, the two of you looking at each other wistfully and all.”

  This brought on more confusion, and Lucy could not fathom how she could have ever fallen in love with such a man as Lord Balfour. “Everyone speaks of a love we both shared,” she said, almost to herself. “However, I must admit that I do not feel love for him. How can it be that I had once loved a man but now feel nothing but disdain for him?” A bird landed on a branch of a nearby bush, and something tickled her mind, but she could not recall what it was.

  Before she was able to truly pry into the memory, Hannah said, “It’s all right. I’m sure, in time, you’ll remember everything.”

  “I must ask another question,” Lucy said, this time with more decisiveness. “I want you to be completely honest.”

  “I would never lie to you,” Hannah replied firmly. “Friends don’t do things like that.” She used the word ‘friends’ in a very proud manner, as if it was a word of binding.

  “Did I marry Lord Balfour of my own free will, or did my father force me? Or anyone else for that matter? Did the Duke blackmail my parents per chance?”

  Hannah shook her head, and Lucy realized what she had feared was about to be confirmed. “You married His Grace by your own choice. No one forced you to, not your parents, or His Grace. You married him because you loved him.”

  Lucy let out a sigh as she watched the bird flit from branch to branch until it finally flew away. So, she had somehow come to love Lord Balfour, that had now been confirmed by both her mother and Hannah. However, a new question arose, a more pressing question which bothered her deeply.

  Did she want to remember why?

  Chapter Six

  Lucy bid her mother a good night and made her way down the hallway and back to her room. The sun had yet to set, but she found herself exhausted, a fact she found amusing. Here she had slept for two months straight, and yet she still felt the need to rest so early in the day a concept she could not grasp.

  When she entered her room, she stopped short and stared as Lord Balfour moved several items from a chair, including a blanket. So, the rogue planned on getting into bed with her? She would see about that.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, her hand firmly on her hip.

  The man jumped and turned around. Rogue or not, he was handsome and his smile brought on a strange warm feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  Perhaps she had eaten too much on her first day out of bed.

  “You startled me,” he said, the blanket now draped over an arm. “I simply came to retrieve a few items I had left here, like this blanket,” —he raised his arm— “and this book.” He lifted the items as if to prove he had a reason to be in her room.

  “Why, exactly, were they even in my room?” she asked. He might believe he loved her, but that gave him no right to be in her bedroom.

  “This chair has been my bed for the past two months,” he explained, clearly unruffled by her tone. “I slept here every night.”

  Lucy tried to detect any sign of him lying. If he was, he concealed it well, for she could not see even the slightest inkling of a sneer or a twinkle of deception in his eyes. However, she could not trust this man; she never had and she was reluctant to start now. “Why would you sleep in a chair?” she asked. “You are a Duke, not a common man or a servant.”

  His face reddened. “To watch over you, of course,” he explained. “Many a nights you mumbled in your sleep, keeping me up in the late hours.”

  She sniffed disdainfully. “That is kind of you; however, your vigil is no longer needed. In fact, it is quite discomforting to know that, as I slept, your eyes were on me.” She moved past him, stopped at the edge of the bed opposite from where he stood, and tapped her foot. Would the man never leave?

  As if in answer to her silent question, he moved to the door but turned around before leaving. “It is an honor to gaze upon a woman of such beauty, a truth for which I could not, or would not, in good conscience, apologize. Now, I would enjoy it if you would breakfast with me in the morning.”

  Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and shot the man a glare. “I am afraid I must decline,” she replied with as haughty an attitude as she could summon. She had many things she needed to accomplish in the morning; yet, eating with this man was not one of them. “However, thank you for the invitation.”

  He gave her a nod and then stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Come morning, Lady Honeyfield would be returning home, which would leave Lucy alone with Lord Balfour. Thankfully, she had Hannah to protect her; however, her mind raced as she reviewed all that had transpired that day.

  As she pulled up the covers, she smiled. Perhaps this had all been a dream and come morning, she would awaken from it and find herself back in her own room in Foxglove Estate, ready to take on the world, just as she once had wished for her life.

  ***

  Lucy realized upon waking the following morning that she had not awoke from a bad dream. Rather than opening her eyes to her own bedroom in her own house, she found herself once again staring at the opulent room at Chudleigh Hill. The realization that she was indeed a married woman and that everything her mother and Hannah had told her was now confirmed, and it made her wish she could return to that deep sleep that kept her away from the truth for the past two months.

  The rugs on the floors were soft under her feet as she made her way to the window that looked out onto the gardens. Her last memories were of eighteen months ago, and although it brought terror to her heart, she knew that it was imperative that she remember what had brought her to this point in her life, to be married to a man for whom she had no romantic attachment and to be living in this grand house that she secretly adored. Yes, she had a challenge to face, and she was willing to confront that challenge head-on. It was that or create a ruse that she had come to the understanding that she was indeed married.

  However, the thought of being paraded about as the wife of…that man…did not sit well with her one bit. In fact, it made her quite angry. Why had her father insisted that she allow Lord Balfour to court her? She had known him for many years, her family a
nd his great acquaintances, but she had never shown one inkling of interest. Lord Balfour, for that matter, had also been quite aloof, that is until that fateful engagement party. Was this some sort of game he was playing to keep her married to him? Granted, she had secretly enjoyed the kisses they had shared that evening, but beyond that, she had no other opinion of him, at least not one which was complimentary.

  She sighed as she turned from the window and made her way to the wardrobe. As she reached in to select a dress, a knock came to the door. She tightened the belt on her dressing gown and called out for the person to enter.

  “Your Grace,” Hannah said with a curtsy.

  Lucy sighed again. “Remember, call me Lucy, at least when we are alone.”

  “Sorry, Your…er…Lucy,” Hannah said with a small giggle. Lucy realized how difficult it was for someone in the woman’s position to consider calling her better by her Christian name, but Lucy needed a friend. She would find it terribly difficult to see Hannah as more than a servant if she had to refer to her as ‘Your Grace’ at every turn.

  “It is no bother,” Lucy reassured her. “You call me Lucy when we are alone, but if it makes you feel better, you can use a more formal address when we are with others.”

  This seemed to make Hannah feel better, for she relaxed almost immediately. “Thank you…Lucy.” Her face was a deep crimson and Lucy was reminded of a ripe tomato.

  “Well, Hannah, it looks as if I will need to do some investigating,” Lucy said as she allowed the woman to help her dress. The dress was a deep green with a rounded neckline and a tight bodice. How could she have such a garment when she had been asleep for so long? Regardless, although it fit, it was much more constricted than she imagined. However, it could prove to be of some use to her.

  If the Duke and I are married, Lucy thought as Hannah buttoned the back of the dress, I suppose I should somehow interact with the man; perhaps that will bring forth some of those missing memories.

  Lucy took a seat before the mirror and allowed Hannah to brush her hair as she contemplated what Hannah had told her. Could she and Lord Balfour have been that happy? How could it be so? As it turned out, Hannah was the perfect companion, for she did not insist on constant conversation, which gave Lucy time to consider her current situation some more without the distraction of discourse. She still had not worked out how she had been beguiled into marrying Lord Balfour, but there must have been a reason she chose this life. Regardless of what her mother and Hannah had told her, she could not believe that she was truly in love with that man. Would she not have some inclination of that feeling within her if it was such a deep love as they had described?

  Perhaps he had offered her extravagant gifts or opportunities for travel, for it would have been his wealth that he dangled before her to convince her to marry him. Now that she had no memory of whatever it was he had promised her, did that mean that he would withhold what he had promised her? However, this made no sense to Lucy. She had no interest in marrying for wealth, and title, though it meant much to her parents, meant nothing to Lucy. No, it had to be something different.

  “Does Lord Balfour know I am coming down for breakfast?” Lucy asked.

  “I’m afraid he left for town not one hour ago,” Hannah said as she placed one final pin in Lucy’s hair. Then she stepped back to admire her handiwork.

  “Is that so?” Lucy asked. Though she felt frustrated that he would not be there to question, she also found herself relieved she would have more time to explore Chudleigh Hill on her own. “Does he go into town often?”

  “He goes at least two times a week, sometimes three,” Hannah replied.

  Lucy bit her lip. Did he have a lover he visited during these visits? She recalled a rumor she had heard once where he had visited a young widow, on a pretense of business. However, within Lucy’s group of friends, there was much speculation that more happened during that visit than an exchange of information.

  Lucy sighed. How she missed that group of friends. They always had such fun sharing the latest gossip and drinking tea—sometimes with a tiny drop of brandy added to it.

  “Let us have some breakfast, shall we?” Lucy asked as she rose from her chair and took one last look at her reflection. “Then I will wait for Lord Balfour in his study. I want to ask him some questions.”

  “I think he’d like that,” Hannah replied with a smile.

  Chapter Seven

  Lucy adjusted herself in the high-backed chair in Lord Balfour’s study and attempted to keep herself awake. After having a light breakfast and spending time with Hannah, she had come to the study to wait for his return. She spent the first hour poking around at the numerous tomes on the shelves, finding the subjects of the sciences intriguing, as were the books on history. However, as time passed, she found herself utterly bored, and quite weary. Perhaps she should have rested upstairs and then had Hannah wake her when the Duke arrived.

  She sighed and returned to the shelves, hoping to find something interesting that would keep her interest. As she perused the titles once again, she heard the front door close and Lord Balfour’s deep baritone echo through the foyer. She straightened her posture and smiled as he entered the study.

  “Lu…” he cleared his throat. “Miss Honeyfield, I am glad to see you up and about. Have you been waiting for me?” When she nodded, he added. “I hope you have not been waiting long; I have just returned.” He walked across the room to stand directly before Lucy, and Lucy found herself looking into the bluest of eyes, in which she searched for some inkling of memory that went beyond two quick kisses and rumors that made her shiver.

  He smiled, and much to Lucy’s surprise, he did not seem to take any interest in her tight bodice. She was unsure how this made her feel. She had hoped he would be distracted enough to relax his defenses so she could question him further; however, this new development meant that she would have to change her tactics. How exactly she would do so, she did not know, but she was a bright woman, quite intelligent if she could say so herself, and she would get whatever information out of the man one way or another.

  “I only entered moments before you did,” she lied. “I take it your business affairs went well?”

  “Very well,” he said as he led her to one of the wing back chairs in front of the fire. Once she sat, he took his seat across from her. “How are you this morning? I imagine it must be difficult for you adjusting to a life you do not remember.”

  She nodded. “Yes, it is a bit disconcerting, to say the least.” She wondered how he would reply if she gave him tiny morsels of ideas that had been swimming around in her head. “I believe I may have recalled something, though the details are a bit murky.”

  He leaned forward, a pleased look on his face. “By all means, please tell. I may be able to aid you in recalling whatever it is you believe you remember.” Lucy stared at the man for several moments; there was something not quite right with him. Gone were the sneers and the unkind words, replaced by this gentleman with a kind smile and gentle eyes who seemed eager to give her aid.

  “It is something about our marriage,” she said carefully. She did not want to let on that this was not truly a memory, but rather a means to glean information. “Did you purchase a cottage for me as a wedding gift?”

  He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I’m afraid not,” he replied, his disappointment clear in his tone. “At one time we did speak of purchasing a summer home, but we had not done so, nor were any promises made to do so.”

  Lucy swallowed her disappointment. Surely there was some sort of gift promised her in the event of their marriage; it was the only thing that made sense. “Are you certain? I do not wish to argue with you, but I am positive there were talks of a grand gift once we were married. Or did you promise whatever it was to my father in exchange for my hand?”

  He shook his head and her heart sank. “Again, there was no promise made to you or to your father. However, I can tell you that you married me because of love; the same reason I ma
rried you.” Lucy stared at him, utterly confused. His answers to her questions made no sense whatsoever, especially when it came to them marrying for love. For she had never loved this man and could not imagine ever giving her heart to him. As it was, she could barely stand to be in the same room with him, though at the current moment, his company was much better than it had been on any other occasion in the past. She could not stop the nagging feeling that he was playacting, using her illness as a way to change the truth about how she became the Duchess of Pendlow and he her husband.

  He smiled at her and she realized that he was very good at playacting. His portrayal of the patient, doting husband was worthy of the theater. However, like most actors, he would misstep and make a mistake, and when he did, she would pounce on it with the might of a tiger.

  “Would you enjoy accompanying me on a walk around the gardens?” he asked, breaking Lucy from her thoughts.

  Lucy considered this for a moment. Fresh air would be nice, and it would give her the opportunity to question him further. “I believe Hannah should accompany us as well,” she said as she rose from her chair. “It would not be proper to have us walking alone without a chaperon.”

  His face took on a painful look before his features smoothed over once again. “You are my wife, and I your husband; however, if you prefer someone be with us, by all means, send for Hannah.”

  Lucy glanced down at the gold band on her finger. She had meant to remove it; however, something had kept her from doing so. She smiled at Lord Balfour. “No, you are right; I am your wife.” His smile broadened and she wondered at how this pleased her. “Shall we go, then? We have much to discuss.”

  ***

  Although Lucy had been told that Chudleigh Hill was now her home, she found it difficult to see it as such. Somehow, she felt more a guest than a resident, and it was a discomforting feeling. As she walked silently next to the Duke, he gave her a brief overview of their courtship, a tale he wove so greatly, she had to admit, it was almost believable. However, that tiny seed of doubt still sat in the pit of her stomach, and she could not shake the feeling that this was all an act.