The light breeze whipped around him and he pulled his coat in tighter in an attempt to keep the cold from chilling him to the bone as he continued his stroll. Everywhere he looked, images of Lucy appeared, as if her ghost walked these grounds. What a silly thought! She was not dead, she was only away—far away. However, she had been far away for some time now, since she awoke after her accident, still the same woman and yet not.
Why had his plan to recreate their courtship not produced the expected results? For, if she truly had loved him when they married, which he had no doubt whatsoever that she had, their love should have taken the same path it had back then. So many indications his plan was working had surfaced, repeating almost to the word and action her reactions to the path they had taken through town. How had everything gotten so confused? What had he done differently, other than love her more now than he had then, to have possibly lost her forever?
What foolish thoughts. No, Andrew had not lost her. Deep inside, at the roots of her soul, Lucy loved him still, and he would never give up until she either remembered the love they once shared, or he made her fall in love with him once again. For a love such as they shared could never disappear, not if it was meant to be. And Andrew had no doubt that their love was their destiny.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Two weeks had passed since Lucy had arrived at her parents’ house, and now, with light snow falling outside, she sat in the drawing room with a needle and thread as she grimaced at the pillow case in her lap. Hannah sat in the chair opposite, leaning over her own pillow case and working with intense focus on the embroidery before her. The stitching was still a bit uneven, but Hannah had made great progress and seemed to enjoy the task much more than Lucy herself did. However, with the weather becoming increasingly worse with each passing hour, there was little more to keep them occupied.
Not more than an hour earlier, Lucy’s father had given Lucy a lingering kiss on her forehead before leaving the house on some errand. Her mother had followed him out of the room and had yet to return, but Lucy thought the woman more than likely had gone up to her room to rest, for she had appeared quite tired all morning.
The door opened, however, and Lady Honeyfield entered. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying.
“Mother?” Lucy asked as she set aside her needlework. “Are you well?”
Her mother smiled and nodded. “Yes, I did not sleep well last night and you know how I can get when I am not well rested.” Then she turned to Hannah. “May I speak with you?”
“Of course, My Lady,” Hannah replied.
“We will be in the study,” Lady Honeyfield said with a raise of her hand. “We will be but a moment. There is no need for you to accompany us.”
Lucy, who had risen from her seat, sat down once again. “Very well,” she replied, though her curiosity had been piqued. Her mother had never spoken to Hannah other than a quick greeting, and to have the woman wish to speak to her privately was curious indeed.
The two women were gone a short time when they returned and Hannah returned to her needlework. Lucy found it strange the woman did not even glance her way, but as her mother sat on the sofa and patted the spot next to her, Lucy pushed aside her wonderings at her companion.
“Mother?” Lucy asked. “You look worried. Are you certain there is nothing wrong?”
Lady Honeyfield smiled and took Lucy’s hand in hers. “I promise you, I am well. However, we do need to have a chat.”
Lucy nodded, though she could not imagine about what her mother wished to speak to her. “Very well,” she replied as she scrunched her brow. She could not quiet the misgivings she felt as she waited expectantly for her mother to speak.
“It has been a joy having you here,” Lady Honeyfield said as she patted Lucy’s hand. “I could never have wished for a more wonderful daughter than you.”
“Nor could I ever wish for a more wonderful mother,” Lucy replied, though her heart beat against her chest in a most uncomfortable fashion. Conversations such as these could not lead to something Lucy would enjoy.
“As much as I have enjoyed your visit, I am afraid it is time for you to return to your husband.” Her mother spoke with a finality that gave Lucy pause.
Lucy swallowed hard as she made an attempt to keep her heart afloat. She was not ready to return to Chudleigh Hill, or more accurately, her husband, at least not just yet.
“You look as if what I have just told you is the most terrible news you had ever heard.”
Lucy focused on the floor as she tried to rein in the thoughts that tumbled around in her brain. “No one seems to understand me at all,” she mumbled. “It is not that I do not care for Andrew, for I do…” She sighed, unable to put into words those tumbling thoughts. The past two weeks had been a wonderful reprieve, but with this news, the anger and hurt over her lack of memory returned.
“Does your struggle stem from a belief that you do not love him as you once had?” Lady Honeyfield asked. Lucy stared at her in shock. Was she so transparent that her mother had detected her lack of love for Andrew?
“I…Did Hannah…?”
Her mother gave a light laugh. “Hannah said nothing of this, or at least not to me. Lucy, you are my daughter and I know you far better than you think. I see the hurt in your eyes and hidden behind your smile.”
Lucy sighed. “You are right,” she replied. “I feel a pain inside of which I cannot rid myself.”
“And yet, I see a woman who has very strong feelings for her husband. Is this an accurate observation?”
Lucy nodded. “It is, although I do not feel as strongly for him as he does for me. How can I be so unfair as to expect him to be bound in a marriage where he is the only one who loves the other? Mother, he is a lovely man who deserves a woman who can return his feelings, not one who can only give him a fraction of those feelings in response.”
“Yet, he has not thrown you out of his home, has he?” her mother said in a firm tone. “He has not belittled you for not returning his affections, nor has he pushed you aside when you have rejected him. Am I correct in saying so?”
Lucy bowed her head. “Yes, Mother, you are correct. This is why I believe that he must find a woman who will better suited for him. How can I, in good conscious, expect him to wait for me?”
“My daughter, things will not get better by running away. You must return to your husband and be the wife he needs, that is what is best for you both.”
A tear ran down Lucy’s cheek and she wiped it away with a finger. “I worry that I will never regain my memory. What will happen then? Will he finally give up? Will he hate me for ruining everything? I could not live with myself knowing I am unable to be the woman he deserves.” She was now crying freely. Hannah handed her a handkerchief and she took it with a word of thanks.
“It is because he loves you that he is willing to do all that is necessary to make you happy,” Lady Honeyfield said. “Do you not see? It is his love that drives him. At this point, you do not feel the same, but do not reject and hurt the love he gives of his own free will. Embrace it, embrace him, and love will surely follow.”
“If I do not fall in love with him again?” she asked, worried for the answer she would receive.
“If you choose a date to accomplish this, perhaps you will not,” her mother replied. “However, if you are willing to be patient, I believe in my heart it will one day happen.”
Lucy wiped the tears from her eyes. What her mother said rang true in her heart and Lucy leaned over to embrace the woman who had given her life. “Thank you,” she said in her mother’s ear.
“You are very welcome,” her mother replied as she lightly pushed Lucy away. “Now, it is time for you to return to your husband. Be the wife he needs at his side. Even if your memory does not return, you are still the woman he chose to marry, and you have an obligation to him. Do not let him down.”
Lucy studied her mother’s face, and for the first time, she realized the woman was aging. The gray in her
hair, once sparse, was now plentiful. The fine lines around her eyes had deepened. However, despite this natural occurrence that happens to all people, regardless of social standing or ability to recall past events, her mother had remained a person with whom Lucy could confide. And for that, Lucy was blessed.
“I will collect my things and return to Chudleigh Hill today,” Lucy stated firmly, feeling optimistic for the first time in a very long time. She wondered at the calmness that settled on her soul. Somehow, it seemed as if she should have been angry with her mother for suggesting she return; however, in all reality, she could not wait to see Andrew once again, for if there was one thing she learned on this journey to her childhood home, it was that she was no longer a child. She married a man who loved her, who cherished her, and who had patience for her shortcomings—which, as she thought on them, were many.
How could she have put Andrew through such heartache, for he truly loved her. What man would have treated his wife as Andrew had her? Very few, she was certain. Well, she would no longer be that spoiled child she had been acting. She would return home—it was strange, and yet exhilarating to call Chudleigh Hill home, but it felt right—and take her place next to Andrew as the Duchess of Pendlow and be the woman of whom he could be proud.
***
The ride back to Chudleigh Hill seemed to stretch for an eternity. All of Lucy’s misgivings had flown away, all but one. Was it too late? Had she angered him to the point that he would not take her back? Would he refuse her and demand she return to Foxglove Estate and ask her never to return again? All these questions swam around in her mind, much like fish in a small pond, flitting one way and then another. The answers were just as illusive, and she fretted the entire journey.
Hannah watched her with concern etched on her face, but she said nothing. Lucy wanted to assure her that everything would work out, but she herself suffered too many misgivings to count. Instead, she watched the trees rush past the carriage as she silently urged the driver to go faster.
Finally, the house came into view and Lucy felt a lump form in her stomach. Once the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the house and Lucy and Hannah had alighted, Lucy was surprised that Andrew had not come to greet them. Granted, she had not sent ahead to warn him she was returning, but if he indeed wished her to return, would he not have heard her coming and rushed outside to meet her?
“Is my husband home?” Lucy asked Mason as he took their wraps.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Mason replied in his deep voice. “He is in the study.”
“Thank you.” Lucy turned to Hannah. “I can see how tired you are. You should go upstairs and rest. I will need to speak to Andrew as soon as possible.”
Hannah gave her a knowing smile and bobbed a quick curtsy before heading up the stairs.
Lucy took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She had never been a weak woman, and she certainly would not start now. This was her burden to bear, and if Andrew was still willing to have her, she would do what she could to make him happy, for he did no less for her.
The door to the study was partially open and Lucy peeked inside. The drapes had been drawn and a weak sun lit up the desk and a man, his head nestled in his crossed arms. His breathing was smooth and fluid and Lucy knew immediately that he was asleep.
For a short time, she simply stood watching him sleep. His hair was tousled and he seemed thinner. Her mother had been right; it was time to return home and attend to her husband to be the wife he needed, for watching him sleep at his desk, he seemed a child rather than a grown man. Of course, she would never say as much to him; his ego was as delicate as any other man’s, she was certain.
She giggled at the thought and then clapped her hand over her mouth. Andrew grunted and lifted a finger to scratch his face. He sat up in the chair and raised his arms over his head in a stretch followed by a large yawn, but when his eyes opened, he stopped and stared.
“Lucy?” he said as if he did not believe she stood there before him. The thought that he was surprised at her return made her sad. He had not responded to her letter, but perhaps he did not know what to say. He stood and leaned with his hands on the desk. He was only in his shirtsleeves, which were rolled up to his elbows, his shirt quite wrinkled. “I am sorry. It seems I fell asleep. When did you arrive?”
She walked up to the desk and noticed dark circles around his eyes. “Just moments ago,” she said in reply. “You look exhausted.”
He smiled. “I have been having trouble sleeping,” he said as he stifled another yawn. “But that does not matter. Are you here to collect more of your things?” He seemed sad as he said this.
Lucy shook her head. “No. I have come home.” His eyebrows shot up at this, but before he could comment, she continued. “When you kissed me at the party, I pushed you away from me. But you should know, it was not what I truly wanted.”
“That would be why you pushed me away,” he said, obviously misunderstanding her meaning.
She sighed. “No, please, I was unclear. I did not wish to push you away. I have been a fool.”
His eyes widened. “You? A fool? It was I who became angry when things did not go my way. I regret the words I spoke that night, and I ask your forgiveness.”
“It was not your wrongdoing that is in question but mine.” She walked around the desk to stand before him. “Andrew, you are my husband, and you have done everything to accommodate me. Yet, I feel that each time you did, I acted the ungrateful woman. My anger was not for you but rather a regret for my missing memories, and I allowed that regret to grow over the past few months, which led me to ultimately run to my mother’s side. I was selfish in so many ways, and for that I am sorry.” Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back. She was not going to cry.
He placed a hand on her arm. “I realize you do not feel the same,” he said, “but I do love you. It is why I am telling you…no, I ask of you, please remain here in this house with me. There are many things in life I can live with, things to which I can adjust, but the thought of you not here with me is something with which I cannot cope. Please, stay and I promise I will give you as much time as you need.”
“You have my word,” she replied with a smile, “I will never leave again. You have done so much for me, but I make one more request, if I may.”
“Of course.”
“If I arrive promptly at six, will you dine with me?”
Andrew laughed and pulled Lucy into an embrace. And though it was much less than she would have liked, Lucy felt a small amount of joy rush through her when she saw his wide smile and the happiness in his eyes. If this was her destiny, she would live the rest of her days keeping this man happy, for she knew in her heart he would do the same for her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It had been nearly two weeks since Lucy had returned to Chudleigh Hill, and Andrew was pleased she was once again where she belonged. They dined together each night, and he felt proud for the effort she made toward building their relationship. The strain of her memory loss still plagued her, he was certain, for he could see it on her face when she thought he was not looking, but she kept her promise and lived her life as a wife should in almost all aspects, save one.
She had asked him on more than one occasion to join her in her bed, but he had refused, explaining that, until she was ready, he would keep their sleeping arrangements as they were. Each time he said this, she would relax visibly, which told him that he was making the right choice. He knew the day would come when they could once again share in their marriage bed, not as a duty, but rather in love, and he knew he could wait so they both could enjoy the intimacy they would share.
Snow fell outside the window, and he gazed at the white flakes that performed their dance to a silent melody.
So engrossed in the performance, he had not heard the door open behind him and he almost jumped when Lucy said, “You asked for me?”
He willed his heart to settle as he turned to see his wife standing in the doorway, a heavy cloa
k on her shoulders and a bright red scarf around her neck. Her feet were covered with heavy leather boots.
“I did,” he replied with a smile. “Tomorrow, if the weather is permissible, we are going to the theater. I wished only to remind you.”
“Yes, I do remember,” she replied as she pulled a glove over her hand. “I am looking forward to it.”
He took her hands in his. “Are you going outside?” he asked with astonishment. “It is cold and snowing.”
She laughed, that sweet innocent laugh that made his love for her grow even more. “I am quite aware of that,” she said as she reached up on the tip of her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I think a stroll and some fresh air will do me good.”
He almost offered to accompany her, but something inside told him to allow her to go alone. Everyone needed a moment alone, and if she wished to stroll in the gardens in the snow, then she had every right. Plus, she would have requested his company if she had wished it.
“Well, enjoy your walk,” Andrew said as he planted a kiss on her forehead. “I would join you, but I am afraid the eagerness of business is much too enticing to ignore.”
Her smile widened and she turned and walked toward the door. Andrew leaned against the desk and watched her walk away, his thoughts on their trip to the theater the following day. It promised to be a grand event and to be seen out in public as a happily married couple was just what they needed. Though his work was nearly complete, in truth, since she had returned he had been quite busy.
His mind drifted to the various meetings in the following week; merchants, shop owners, and a cousin who wished to speak to him about a shop in London. He was glad he would he had adjusted his schedule to accommodate his wife, for she was of the utmost importance in his life. She did not make demands of his time, but she did not ignore him as she once had. They still were healing, but progress was being made.
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