Lady Honeyfield placed a hand on Lucy’s arm. “Peter is now one year old, and Mary is expecting a second child. It is why we are going to visit her; she is nearing the birth and has been restricted to bed-rest for the remainder of her pregnancy, which is to happen very soon.”
Lucy stood in shock as what she had learned settled into her mind. Although she found it difficult to breathe, she fought to maintain her senses.
“Are you well, my dear?” her mother asked quietly.
Lucy stared into the woman’s eyes and fought back tears. There was no sense in upsetting her mother when Mary needed her. “Yes,” she replied with a firmness she did not feel. “Please give Mary my best, and tell her I will visit her soon.” She gave her mother a hug, and when her father approached, she embraced him, as well.
“We will return soon enough,” Lord Honeyfield said before he followed his wife into the carriage.
As they rode off down the drive, Lucy stood and watched until they were completely out of sight.
“If you would like to eat breakfast…” Andrew started to say before Lucy interrupted him.
“Did you know about my sister?” she asked. When he nodded, she once again forced down the anger that threatened to explode within her. “Yet, you chose not to tell me? Your own wife?” She glared at him, hoping he would feel the daggers she wished to throw at him in that moment. “You disgust me,” she hissed before turning and entering the house.
The hurt and anger that coursed through her veins made her feel feverish, though she knew her ailment had nothing to do with any physical condition. One thing was certain, she had no plans to spend any time with the man who was now her husband, not if she had anything to do about it.
***
Lucy ignored Andrew’s plea as she stormed through the house and out onto the veranda at the back of the house. She did not stop there, however, but instead continued along the footpath, across the gardens and through the iron gate that led to the hill to where they had strolled only a few days earlier. Without even taking the time to close the gate behind her, she tromped up the hill as she finally allowed the tears to fall. What more had she missed during that forgotten time? She and Mary had often spoken of the wonders of having children, but without the memory of the birth of Mary’s first child, it felt as if she had been deprived of the excitement of such a wonderful event. It had been one thing to understand that her memory was gone, but quite another to be made to realize that so many note-worthy incidents had occurred during that time, incidents that would have brought her great joy and should have created everlasting memories.
Now, however, she was missing eighteen months of her life. So much had changed in that time, and the fear that she would never get back those days left her with a hole in her heart. At the crest of the hill, she stopped and gazed over the valley below, now appearing blurred through her tears. How many people out there tolling over their fields or enjoying their families took for granted the memories of yesterday?
“Lucy?” a deep baritone Lucy had now come to recognize as belonging to a man who was presumed to be someone she loved and yet felt nothing but frustration, and perhaps, a bit of guilt. The latter brought on even more feelings of anger, for it was unfair for him to expect more than what she had felt for him a year and a half ago when she had known him last. Yet, he continued to show great patience, which in turn brought on more guilt on her part. How could she have grown to love a man who she remembered as nothing more than a spoiled man who was accustomed to getting what he wanted, whether he hurt others in the process or not.
She heaved a heavy sigh but did not turn. He would not see her tears. “Yes?” she asked defiantly. “What is it you want?”
“I knew you were upset, so I came to see if there is anything I can do for you.”
She withdrew a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the tears from her face, happy that Hannah had thought to place it there for her. The woman seemed to know in advance what Lucy would need.
“Why did you lie to me?” she asked quietly. “I do not understand.”
“I did not tell you about your sister because I care for you,” he replied, his voice sounding hurt. “Your mother was worried that hearing the news of your sister would upset you, and it appears she was correct in believing so.”
She spun around and glared at him. “Was anyone going to tell me at any point?” she demanded.
“Of course,” Andrew said earnestly. “We planned on telling you, but at a later date, once you had adjusted to your current circumstances. What we wished was only to spare you the heartache of not remembering. In all honesty, we hoped you your memories would return on their own and save you the pain of finding out all you do not recollect.”
“Well, your attempt at sparing me of my pain has brought on more pain than you can ever imagine,” she snapped. Although deep inside she knew Andrew and her parents were only doing their best to help her, the anger and hurt she felt buried any form of gratitude she might otherwise have felt.
He took a step toward her. “Allow me to share in your pain,” he said, his voice still quiet. “I am here to listen.”
Her laughter reeked of bitterness. “You care what I think? Or even how I feel?”
He seemed taken aback by her words. “Of course, I do. I love you, and as your husband, I do not wish to see you hurt.”
She sniffed derisively. “I am married to a man I do not love and live in a house I do not know. I have forgotten events, what should have been wonderful occasions, while the world around me, including the people for whom I love and cared deeply, have moved on. And people continue to lie to me in some sort of valiant plan to protect me, only their attempts merely make everything worse!” She was shouting by the time she concluded her outburst, and much to her angst, the tears had begun once again.
Andrew reached inside his coat, pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. She murmured words of thanks, as her own handkerchief was now soiled from her previous tirade. “What can I do to make it better?” he asked.
Lucy stared at him in amazement. “Were you not listening?” she asked. “I am married to a man I do not love; that is you, Andrew Balfour!”
“I promise that I have listened, and I understand your frustration. I will not lie, but I must admit that your words cut deep into my soul. However, if this is how you feel, that you care not for me, then who am I to say otherwise? I cannot, and will not, pressure you, nor will I attempt to force you to feel something you do not.”
Lucy nodded. “If you would like to me to move into a smaller room so you are able to return to your bedroom, I will. I will attend any function that is required of me as your wife. Whatever you desire, I will agree. All I ask in return is that I can remain here so I am able to live out my shame in private. To all those outside of our home, we will appear, if not loving, at least the faithful couple. There is no reason you should suffer public humiliation for my shortcomings.”
She was shocked when he took her hands in his. “Love is a beautiful thing,” he said, “something that you taught me. You are my wife and will remain so in our bedroom. Do as you please; I feel no shame for what has happened.”
Tears streamed down her face unchecked as she looked into his vivid blue eyes. “But I do not love you,” she whispered. “Surely that must anger you.”
“No, it does not anger me, though I will admit it does sadden me that my wife does not know me as she did. However, I have faith that, in time, you will remember the love we once shared.”
“How long will you be willing to wait?” she asked, almost afraid to ask such a question.
“Forever,” he replied.
Lucy bit at her lip. How sweet and soothing were his words. However, she could not stem the trepidation that plagued her. “I am afraid, Andrew,” she said, her voice so quiet he had to lean in to hear her. “I am afraid I will never remember the past. I am afraid of that which I have forgotten.” She gazed down at the ground between them, if only to remove his gaze f
rom hers. “I wish more than anything I could remember everything, but what I want to know is why I accepted your request to court me and, if what you say is true, how I came to fall in love with you.”
He smiled. “It is a wonderful story that could be told to you in great detail,” he said as he placed his fingers under her chin. “Though, I have an idea that may be better than me simply recounting the tale.”
She crinkled her brow. “And what would that be?”
“Allow me to court you as I one did,” he replied. “Let me take you back to the places we visited, the outings we took, the times we shared, and you will see how it was you came to love me and I you.”
She considered his words and found herself warming to the prospect. What he suggested was indeed a good idea, and perhaps through retracing her steps, she would regain those missing memories, or at least some of them anyway.
“In the end,” she asked, “if I do not remember? Then what?”
He smiled again as he brushed back a strand of hair from her face. “There will be no end,” he replied. “For I will never give up.”
Chapter Eleven
Lucy assessed her reflection before the full-length mirror, turning this way and that in an attempt to assure herself that the fit was perfect. She had chosen a yellow dress with white daisies embroidered on the bust and white lace on the puffed sleeves as well as at the bottom hem. It was a beautiful dress, one she did not remember purchasing, but regardless, she was happy to have it in her wardrobe. As a matter of fact, all of the dresses and gowns she now owned were quite lovely, telling her that she had retained her eye for good taste, though they were a bit more refined than what she last remembered wearing as an eighteen-year-old debutante.
“Why did you agree to go to town with him?” she asked her reflection in an accusatory tone. “This certainly is not who you are.” However, her other self did not respond, but instead stood staring at her, reminding her that the woman in the mirror was a different person than she remembered before waking from her long sleep.
Glancing down at the ring on her finger, she laughed. How strange that she would be seen in public with a man without a chaperon. Though she did not remember the fact she was married, the people she met would certainly know, as many would have attended the wedding. It was strange to think of her wedding and she wondered who had attended and what food they had served. Try as she might, she could recall nothing of what should have been a glorious day, if she had, in fact, been in love with Andrew. Though it frustrated her to no end that the memories were not there, she was excited to finally do something constructive to help her regain those memories. Getting angry, she decided, would only hinder her success.
The previous night she had lain in bed pondering over Andrew’s words that, no matter what, if it even took forever, he would not give up on her. Those words resonated in her soul, and she appreciated that the man cared for her, even if she did not return his affections. When he had smiled at her despite her reminding him she did not love him, she had expected anger, or perhaps even judgment and harsh words. However, she was taken aback by his kindness of offering to court her once again in order to help her regain her memory.
She smiled as she donned her lace gloves and made one final assessment of her appearance before turning and leaving the room, hoping to endure the outing without any complications. She was delighted to retrace the steps of her missing life, even if it meant appearing in public with Andrew to do so, but she could not stem the fear that sat like lead in her stomach. However, she was, and always had been, a strong woman, and she was determined to not allow a small thing such as loss of memory to be victorious over her life.
Letting out a sigh, she made her way down the hallway and out to the foyer. Andrew stood at the door waiting, Mason waiting beside him with her cloak.
“Lucy,” Andrew said, his voice sounding as if he were in awe, “I must say, that dress is quite becoming on you.”
She returned his smile and offered a quick word of thanks. Once Mason had helped her don her cloak, he opened the door and gave them a deep bow, and Lucy followed Andrew out front. The carriage, black in color with gold trim and what Lucy assumed was the family crest on the door, stood waiting for them, a footman standing by the open door. The man bowed and then helped Lucy into the carriage, and once Andrew was seated, closed the door and removed the step before taking his place next to the driver.
The interior of the carriage was finely crafted with sleek wood and plush red seats that were quite comfortable and overall much more luxurious than the carriages her parents owned. Andrew sat across from Lucy and she had to confess that he was handsome with his dark hair and blue eyes. If he chose to pull her into his arms at this very moment, she knew she would not strongly object. In fact, it might have been enjoyable.
“I look forward to our outing today,” Andrew said as the horses began to trot the carriage down the drive. “How are you feeling?”
Lucy considered this question for a moment. She certainly was anxious since this was her first outing since her accident; however, she was also eager to be out of the house and amongst other people. Perhaps she could use this opportunity to find herself once again, for since she had awoken, she had felt as if she were a different person altogether, a person who was living the life of some woman who was not herself. Her last memories had been of a young woman who took risks, shared in occasional gossip—well, maybe more than occasional—and who spoke her mind when she felt the need. This current woman was much more reserved. It could have been the shock of learning time had passed without her knowledge, or perhaps it was some inner feeling that she must live up to the title of Duchess. Whatever the reason for this new demeanor, she did not like this reserved, quiet person. It was time to be herself once again.
“I also look forward to today,” she replied finally. “There are many places I wish to visit and people with whom I wish to converse. Yes, I believe this outing will be just what I need.”
This seemed to please Andrew, as his smile widened. “Excellent,” he exclaimed. “Your health and happiness are my main concerns for this day. If there is anything I can do to make your day better, please do not hesitate to say.”
Lucy looked out the window but did not take note of the passing landscape. No, her mind was focused on how she would once again be Lucy Honeyfield.
***
They had been in town not half an hour, and already Andrew was driving Lucy mad. He talked nonstop, making Lucy’s head ache. She debated as to whether to mention this or not when a handsome couple stopped before them, and she was thrilled when she recognized both of them. What a relief it was to recognize someone she simply saw on the street!
The woman, Mrs. Eliza Treverton, had spent many an hour sharing the latest tales of interest concerning various members of the ton—and a few who were not—with Lucy and her small group of friends, and Lucy remembered their time together with great affection.
“Lucy!” the woman gushed as she gave her a hug. “It is wonderful to see you. I heard you took a terrible tumble but were on the mend. You look wonderful.”
“As do you, Eliza,” Lucy replied with a wide grin. “And yes, I am feeling much better, thank you.” It felt so good to see a familiar face that did not belong to family, or Andrew, and Lucy was eager to learn the latest rumors. The two made idle chitchat as the men talked business—a boring topic at any time of the day in Lucy’s opinion.
Lucy leaned in and lowered her voice. “Would you, and perhaps a few of the other ladies, like to come by Chudleigh Hill for tea next week?”
Eliza’s face lit up. “I would love to,” she replied, a knowing smile on her lips. “When would you like us to arrive? I cannot speak for everyone, but I imagine most of our old group will want to take part in such an exciting discussion.” She placed a hand on Lucy’s arm. “It is been much too long since we have all come together. We have missed you terribly.”
Lucy felt a bit disconcerted as she looked at Eliza’s hand.
To the others it might have seemed a very long time, but to Lucy it felt like it was yesterday. “Then what of next Monday?” she asked, trying desperately to keep the tremor from her voice. “If you would inform the other ladies, I would very much appreciate it. I will not have time to write out invitations, and more than likely you will see them before I do.”
“We will be there at one,” Eliza replied with a sympathetic pat to Lucy’s hand. “We must be going; Timothy will become a beast if he does not eat soon.”
Lucy stifled a laugh as Eliza’s husband gave her a mock glare before laughing and offering Eliza his arm. “Well, she is right there,” he replied.
Andrew and Timothy shook hands and Lucy embraced Eliza. “See you soon,” Lucy said and soon the couple were gone.
“That was nice to see your old friend,” Andrew said as he proffered his arm. “Did I hear you mention something about tea?”
Lucy nodded. She had not even thought to ask him before inviting over guests. “I hope you do not mind,” she said as she placed her arm through his. “It is only a few friends.”
He laughed heartily. “Not at all,” he replied. “I believe it would do you good to converse with old friends. Perhaps it will be beneficial to your recovery.” Then he gave her a sly smile. “Plus, it will give you a break from me.”
Lucy smiled. She did not have the heart to tell him that she agreed, and not in a playful way. However, it was more than a break from his company, but rather an opportunity to show off her home now that she was a Duchess. It seemed odd to consider herself as such, but it was the truth of the matter, so why not take advantage of that fact. She had never been one for humility, so why should she change now that she was married?
“If you do not mind,” Andrew said as he stopped in front of a butcher’s shop, “I would like to stop in here.”
The Duchess Remembers Page 7
