Sweet Memories

by Marie Higgins

  Groaning, he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Would he be able to handle having an angry female come to his estate that reminded him so much of her mother? Guilt already ate away at his gut for not loving Rebecca as he should have...as she deserved.

  He raised his gaze to the window again and peered outside. Two months before Cole’s wife had died, she’d told him about her daughter who was down on her luck. He had never met his wife’s children from her first marriage, because they hated him for marrying their mother for her money. Rebecca’s only daughter, Victoria, who’d been recently widowed, would need to find employment soon...or he’d give in and give her some of the inheritance. He’d considered offering Mrs. Victoria Hampton a position with his household as their housekeeper, but he feared she would be highly offended.

  Victoria Hampton had sent him a letter, informing him she would be arriving today by ship, which was why he was in Portsmouth. As soon as he ordered some ale—and gulped it down—he would hobble out toward the docks and watch as the passengers left the ships and came onto land.

  A barmaid stopped at his side, brushing against his arm. She grinned and batted her eyelashes.

  “Can I get you some ale?” she asked in a throaty tone.

  He sighed. Finally, someone was going to serve him. “Indeed. I need something to take the edge off.”

  She pouted and twirled a lock of his hair in her finger. “Drinking your sorrows away won’t ease your pain, love,” she purred. “However, I’ve been known to ease a man’s burdens in many other ways.”

  He arched an eyebrow, glancing over her, once again. She wasn’t very eye-catching—unless it was the bountiful bosom and plunging neckline displayed for everyone’s viewing pleasure. But he was certain her hair hadn’t seen a brush for at least a month, and the scent wafting around her made him wonder if she’d been rolling with the pigs for about that long, too.

  “I thank you for the offer, but I just need ale.”

  Suddenly, a loud commotion arose from outside. Many of the tavern’s patrons stood and rushed to peer out of the window. Curious, Cole struggled to his feet, and using his walking stick, limped on his injured leg to the open door.

  From the streets, many people were running, and wailing uncontrollably. Some were even cut and bleeding. Images popped into his head—those, he’d tried desperately to forget. He had been in a few battles. Wounded men came first.

  As a lad ran by Cole, he grasped his arm, stopping him. “Pardon me, but what is the ruckus all about?”

  Out of the breath, the boy wheezed when he breathed. “There’s been an accident by the docks, gov’na. Several people have been injured. Some even killed!”

  Panic tightened Cole’s chest. Was Rebecca’s daughter one of these people? Cole’s gut feeling told him there was a good chance she was one of the injured.

  He broke away from the lad and rushed toward the dock as fast as he could with a limp. He’d pay for his quick movements this evening, he was certain. He hadn’t been able to do anything in a hurried fashion since the accident that nearly took off his leg.

  As he reached the docks, the horrifying damage was before him. Numerous people were lying scattered in the street, bleeding and moaning in pain. As he scanned the area, he noticed only two doctors in attendance. Thankfully, some of Portsmouth’s citizens were trying to be of assistance, as well.

  Cole carefully stepped around the injured, studying them carefully. Rebecca had once described her daughter as being a handsome woman, petite in size, with long, brown hair...which was very much like Rebecca’s had been. So far, most of these injured people were men or children.

  Suddenly, out of the corner of his eyes, a widow’s black garb grabbed his attention. A lone woman close by one of the docks lay sprawled in a pool of her own blood. Lying near her head was her bonnet...flattened, and her long, brown hair was in disarray around her head.

  His heart dropped, and with each step closer to the wounded lady, he prayed it wasn’t Rebecca’s daughter. When he reached her side, he thought for sure she was dead. The deep crimson blood surrounding her head contrasted greatly with her pale skin.

  “Oh, dear Lord. Please don’t let this be her,” he prayed, and yet as he quickly scanned the area, he didn’t see any other woman who was wearing black. Victoria had been a widow, but would she still be wearing black? Probably, since her mother had died in the last few months.

  Cole knelt and pressed his ear to the woman’s chest, hoping to hear a heartbeat. It took a few moments, but he detected one, small as it was. He straightened and yelled over his shoulder, “I need help over here.” Nobody came to his bidding. Unfortunately, this woman wasn’t the only one who needed care. Many people were injured and scattered along the dock.

  He inspected her closely for other injuries. He moved his hands carefully over her arms and legs for signs of broken bones, and thankfully, there were none. But a head injury was far more serious and could be fatal.

  Cole shrugged out of his waistcoat and ripped off his shirt. Carefully, he wrapped the material around her head, hoping to stop the bleeding. As he debated what to do with her next, he glanced around the area, praying to find someone to help him. Because of his injured leg, he wouldn’t be able to carry her back to his horse and wagon.

  Suddenly, a familiar face shone like a beacon in the crowd. He’d forgotten he brought his servant, Paul Mills, who had come with Cole to help carry Victoria’s luggage. He waved his hand, and called, “Mills. I need you over here.”

  When the middle-aged man didn’t acknowledge Cole, he shouted louder. This time, his servant’s gaze snapped toward him. Relief flooded through him as the man hurried to help. Mills looked at the unconscious woman, and his face lost color.

  “Is she...dead?”

  “Not yet, but she needs medical assistance quickly, or she will surely die.” Cole grasped the other man’s arm. “I need you to carry her to the wagon for me. Can you do that?”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  With care, Mills picked her up. Cole struggled to stand, and once he did, he followed his servant toward the wagon. His mind scrambled with worry. He should get word to her other siblings, but he didn’t know how. Sadly, he hadn’t taken the time to get to know Rebecca’s family like he should have. He’d have to hire a solicitor. That was the only way.

  Once they were loaded into the wagon, Cole sat in the back with her as Mills drove them home. His physician was very good, and Cole didn’t trust anyone else to care for Victoria. He tried to remember what her married name was, but nothing was coming to mind. He’d have to look it up in the letter’s he’d saved when Rebecca wrote to him while he was in the military.

  The more he studied her ashen face, the tighter his chest restricted. She couldn’t die now! He quickly pressed his fingers against her delicate neck, feeling for a pulse. A slight rhythm in her throat was detected, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  She would live, he’d see to it! He’d do this for Rebecca...and with any luck, he would eventually be rid of the guilt he continued to carry over ruining his wife’s life.

  UNFAMILIAR SOUNDS CONSUMED her, but the intense amount of pain that touched every inch of her body, kept her still. She didn’t know where she was, but because of the brightness upon her face and the enclosed sounds, she could tell she occupied a room that was lit well.

  The gentle, deep voice of a man softly gave instructions to someone on how to care for her. At times he even spoke tenderly urging her to awaken, but she refused. Her chest hurt to breathe, and the throbbing in her head kept her from seeing light.

  She heard the man say, “Try and open your eyes. Fight it. We need to know that you’re all right. We cannot lose you when you’ve come this far.”

  A strange panic surrounded her, igniting the throbbing pain in her head. Her breath quickened and the mindless fog closed in as the comforting voice grew dim. Slowly, she slipped into a semi-unconscious state.

  It seemed only minutes later, that a new awareness took
over. The room wasn’t as bright as before. Thankfully, she could still hear the soothing voice of the kind man.

  “Please, open your eyes this time. I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t talk to me.”

  Deep within, she wanted to talk, but she’d have to move her body. The excruciating pain tried to halt her progress, but she forced herself to obey. Braving the discomfort, she raised her eyelids.

  Within moments the room came into focus and a dim light cast shadows all around. A man’s face came loomed over her. She assumed it belonged to the caring voice she’d been hearing all this time. A pair of the grayest eyes she’d ever seen stared at her as he sat in a chair by the bed, cradling her hand in his. Although he appeared exhausted, he was still very handsome. He couldn’t be older than his late twenties. Stretched across wide shoulders, he wore a white shirt with a gray vest, but they were both wrinkled. However, the material looked to be expensive. Indeed, this was no mere servant. When the handsome stranger smiled, solace spread over her like a warm blanket, relaxing her completely.

  His smile was genuine as he softly rubbed her hand. “I’m so grateful you finally decided to wake, my dear. You had me scared to death.”

  She winced, so he quickly withdrew.

  “Are you in much pain?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but the sound was stopped from the dryness of her throat.

  “Get her some water,” the man instructed a young girl with long, stringy black hair that stood behind him. From the girl’s plain, drab, clothes, she could tell the girl was a servant.

  Carefully, the man slid his arm around her shoulders and lifted her to receive the drink. She grimaced, but was still able to sip the cup of refreshing liquid. After relaxing in the softness of the bed again, she answered, “I ache...all over.”

  “You were in a terrible accident.”

  Although it hurt to do so, she crinkled her forehead. “I was?”

  “Yes. Do you not remember? You were by the docks this afternoon when an argument broke out between two men. Soon they were shooting at each other, and someone knocked you into a wagon loading trunks from the ships. One struck you in the head.”

  “The docks? Was I traveling on a ship?”

  “Yes. You honestly can’t recall what happened?”

  Suddenly, an inner panic consumed her. Not only couldn’t she remember what happened on the docks, but her mind cleared and she remembered....nothing. Terror pierced through her as her whole body quaked. She clutched her pounding head. “I can’t remember!” she cried. “I don’t remember anything!”

  Suffocation tightened around her throat and squeezed her chest. Why couldn’t she remember anything? She wanted to close her eyes and go back to sleep again. She didn’t think she could handle this.

  The man sitting next to her leaned forward, his face lost color. “What do you mean you can’t remember?”

  Tears quickly filled her eyes. “I can’t remember anything,” she sobbed. “I don’t even remember my name!”

  He took both of her hands in his and gently rubbed them. His worried gaze never left her face.

  “Breathe easy and relax,” he coaxed. “Now try and remember your name, and I’m certain it will come back to you.”

  Trying to take slower breaths, she concentrated on remembering, but nothing came to mind. Once more, panic grew inside her quickly, even though it made the painful throb in her head increase. “I don’t know, and it hurts my head to think.”

  “What about Victoria? Does that sound familiar?”

  She mulled the name around in her mind, and gradually ease settled over her. She breathed easier. “I think so.”

  The man’s expression relaxed and he nodded. “Your name is Victoria Hampton.”

  “Victoria... Victoria...” She hesitated. For some reason it still didn’t quite sound right as it rolled off her tongue. “Do you know if I have a nickname?”

  His eyebrows rose. “Like Vicky or Tori?”

  “Yes.”

  He shrugged. “I suppose. I only knew you as Victoria Hampton.”

  “Oh.” Sighing, she relaxed. Slowly, her throbbing head eased slightly. If she remembered that much, she was certain her memory would return soon. “But, do I know you?”

  “Actually, we have never met. I, um...I knew your mother.”

  She tried to recall her mother’s face, but once again, her mind remained blank. “I hope I will remember her soon.”

  “I’m certain you will, Mrs. Hampton.”

  Mrs? “I’m married?”

  He nodded and his frown deepened. “You were married. You are a widow now.”

  She wanted to feel some kind of remorse, but because she didn’t remember even being married, how could she mourn for the man? Hopefully, all of her memories would return quickly. “What am I doing with you?”

  “You...um, you were coming to visit me. I was going to make you my housekeeper since you are widowed and down on your luck.”

  She glanced down at her nightdress. The material was soft, and the sleeves had fancy stitching on the cuffed wrists. For some reason, she couldn’t imagine a servant wearing this type of nightdress.

  “I had gone to pick you up at the docks,” he continued. “That’s when I learned of the accident. Several people were injured. When I recognized you, I quickly had you brought to my estate so I could take better care of you.”

  She looked into his enchanting eyes again. They held so much tender emotion. She could see how much he worried about her. “I thank you for rescuing me, then.” She moved her attention around the room. This didn’t appear as any servant’s room, neither. It was too large. The two cushioned chairs, armoires, and table was much too fancy. And a servant certainly wouldn’t have such a fine vanity table, neither. Unless, she was the servant for the queen herself. “Where do you live?”

  “I live in Cotswolder. I own this estate and the several acres of land surrounding it.”

  “What is your name?” she wondered.

  “I’m Major Cole Baldwin.”

  Major? Although she didn’t remember much, she did know his title was pretty impressive. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Major. I will start my job as soon as poss—”

  “No, you won’t.” He leaned over and removed the cool, wet rag on her forehead and handed it to the young girl who’d fetched her water earlier. He carefully touched Victoria’s face and head. “I believe your fever is gone.” When the man’s fingers brushed by the wound on the side of her head, she recoiled.

  “Oh, forgive me, Mrs. Hampton.”

  “That is fine. I just pray I heal quickly, or I won’t be much of a housekeeper.”

  “Well, we hadn’t really discussed it yet, but if you agree, you won’t have to start your job until you’re completely healed.”

  She nodded.

  “And until then, you’re to remain in this bed, or at least take things slowly. I don’t want you in any pain when you start your job.”

  “I understand.”

  “I will send your brother a letter to tell him what has happened to you. Rest assured, I shall take good care of you here.”

  She struggled to smile. “I believe you will, Major.”

  He stood and smiled down at her. “I think you should rest now, Mrs. Hampton. I’m sure you’re exhausted from everything that has happened.”

  She didn’t know why, but that name just didn’t sound right. She shook her head. “Please, Major, don’t call me Mrs. Hampton. The name sounds rather foreign.”

  “Would you rather I call you Victoria?”

  She grimaced. “That sounds too stuffy.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “What if I shortened it to Vicky or Tori?”

  “Hmm...I don’t know. Which one do you like?”

  “I like Vicky.”

  “Then that’s what I would like you to call me.” She nodded, decisively.

  “As you wish.” He adjusted her blankets around her. “I will return to check on you later. If you need me, ring t
hat bell.” He motioned his head toward the small table by the bed. “If you get hungry, I’ll bring you some food.”

  “You are much too generous, Major. I truly appreciate your help.”

  “I just want you to heal properly.” He winked.

  As the very handsome, dark haired man walked out of the room, she sighed. Closing her eyes, she tried to follow his instructions and rest, but her empty head filled with worry. At least she knew her name was Victoria—or Vicky—but nothing else seemed even remotely familiar.

  Although she wanted to look in the mirror in hopes of some recognition, her body was indeed exhausted. So for now, she would try to sleep and picture Major Baldwin, remembering how tenderly he’d touched her, and how his soothing voice brought her comfort. Right now, she couldn’t ask for much more.

  THREE

  Cole instructed little Pamela, the cook’s daughter, to sit outside Vicky’s room and listen for when she needed help. He walked to his room, directing his manservant to fetch buckets of hot water for his bath. He’d previously washed his bloody hands after helping Vicky, but he still felt as if he wasn’t sterile enough. Portsmouth’s salty air had clung to his skin, making him feel unclean.

  As he waited for his tub to be filled, he pondered over everything that happened. After his physician and a maid had cleaned Vicky and dressed her in a nightgown, the woman didn’t look as he thought she should. He couldn’t see any resemblance between her and Rebecca, except for the brown hair and petite body. But then, Cole and his sister, Diana, didn’t look alike, either.

  He didn’t expect Vicky to be so young, either. He tried to recall if Rebecca had mentioned her children’s ages, and although he was certain she had, he honestly couldn’t remember. He just hadn’t been that committed in their marriage. Cole had used her for her money, and she’d used him because he was a nice-looking younger man she claimed as her husband—as though he were a prize to be won.