by Ursula Grey
He would enter her psyche, and perhaps even her body. He could not banish her from his thoughts, even had he wanted. If he managed to sleep, she would haunt his dreams. No, she would be safe in his care, under his roof, under his wing. Who would not trust a doctor?
Chapter Two
When she awoke she found herself in a strange room. Although papered decorously, the walls were hung with paintings of men and women. These were not portraits, but nudes nestled amidst ancient flora and fauna and engaged in acts of love. She had experienced much in her short life, and the poses of the couples brought a rush of warmth to her cheeks. She shook her head, hoping to dislodge the odd visions they caused.
Whether it was day or night she could not tell. Draperies of damask hung over the long, narrow windows. Accustomed to the rollicking waves that had tossed the ship, she fell back upon the soft gentleness of the mighty four-poster bed and closed her eyes, grateful for the freedom to be still. She tried to recall the previous evening. It was true, she was in desperate need of a benefactor to provide shelter for at least a fortnight, or until she could establish herself in the genteel society that she despised yet needed.
With horror, she recalled the wretched barn, the hansom driver, and the man to whose house she had come. How had she arrived in this bed? Her last recollection was of lying upon a leather sofa listening to the sound of the man’s hushed voice. The brandy . . . had she been drugged? She knew the drowsy after-effects of laudanum but suffered no such lethargy. Perhaps she'd simply succumbed to the travails of her long journey. None of this was as she'd envisioned and her plans could well be ruined.
It would be wise to escape from the house before being discovered. Her error had cost her dearly. Could her ruse be sustained now that she might be thought less than virtuous? She raised herself on her elbows. The coverlet fell to reveal her exposed breasts. Slipping her hands beneath, she discovered her nakedness. Frantically, she escaped from the tangled bed sheets and searched for her clothing. She could find nothing.
At the sound of footsteps, she swiftly retreated to bed and slid beneath the sheet. She lay upon her side and feigned sleep, listening to the metallic rustle of a key turning in the lock. The door opened silently. Through the veil of her eyelashes she spied the man of the previous evening.
Her heart thumped rapidly. He held a silver tray, upon which sat a teapot, a single cup, a saucer. Beside it was a plate piled high with bread, cheese, and cold meats. He set them upon the night table and took a chair beside her. The aroma of the food roused her appetite. Her ravenous hunger returned as she realized she could not recall the last time she'd eaten.
He stared at her for several moments as if willing her awake. Escape without notice was futile, at least until she discovered the location of her missing clothing.
She sighed deeply and opened her eyes. A strange and knowing smile brightened his face, as if he saw through her ruse. Sitting forward, he poured the steaming liquid into the delicate porcelain cup.
“I’ve brought you tea and a bite to eat.” His tone was gentle, reassuring. "You must be famished."
She eyed him suspiciously and said nothing.
"Come now," he urged. “You’ve nothing to fear. I am going to help you. Why don’t you sit up and take some nourishment.”
She made to rise then remembered and quickly sank back into bed. “My clothing!” she cried. “What have you done with my clothing?”
“Have no fear. I merely sent them to be laundered. Besides,” he added, “you will not be needing them.” He held out the teacup.
Not be needing them? What did he mean? She frowned and turned her head away. She heard him return the cup to the tray. He placed his palm upon her forehead. A comforting warmth spread from his fingertips across her skin. His hand slid downward and he brushed his fingers across her lips.
She tensed. “How did I . . .Who undressed me?”
“I disrobed you.”
A prude she was not. She had undressed for men before, or had allowed men to undress her. But that decision had always been hers to make.
“Please remember,” he added, “I am a doctor. I could not leave you bound so tightly into the strange apparel that women find so fashionable. You could barely breathe in such a garment.” Again, he smiled. “It was dark and I saw nothing, I assure you.”
She glanced about for an object to throw at him, but there was nothing within reach. She had a good mind to bite him. Crazed men had tried to force her, but she had always escaped in time. Held captive in this room, without her clothing, she was entirely in his power. Only his eyes would tell her if he were sane.
Despite their darkness, those eyes issued forth a light so brilliant that it became difficult to even consider the thought of escape. There was something oddly familiar about them. Had she met him before? She shook her head to dismiss the notion. Surely she would have remembered him. Any woman who'd met him would not soon forget him.
There was no time to continue her inner dialogue. He sat so near to her. She was usually quick with her tongue, and her sharp wit had saved her from many a dire predicament. Why was she now so unsettled? At last an idea alighted upon her—best to act the indignant maiden. Yes! she thought.
And so in that manner she continued the discourse. “What is the meaning of this? What do you intend? Surely you cannot think to keep me here against my will?” She made sure her chest heaved and her breath came in short and fitful gasps.
“No,” he said calmly. “I wish only to help you to recover your memory. Obviously an event has occurred which has caused you to block all recollection of your former existence. I assure you, my intentions are honorable. In that you must trust me. However, in order for me to assist you, you must allow me to heal first your body."
His gaze traveled from her eyes, to her neck, and then down the length of her covered figure.
“And if I choose to refuse your offer of assistance?” She pulled the coverlet upward, ensuring that her naked flesh was exposed to no further inspection.
“You forget. You came to me. Or rather, fate has brought you to my doorstep . . .” His voice trailed off.
He obviously inferred their meeting was no accident, and that she'd intentionally sought him. “You are incorrect, sir. I remember nothing of how I arrived here.”
“It is of no consequence," he said. "Now that you are here, I will nurse you back to health.”
“That won’t be necessary. You’ve been most kind. Please, if you will just retrieve my clothing, I shall be on my way.” She added, “I am feeling better and have recovered much of my strength.”
With an unexpected tenderness, he leaned forward and looked long into her eyes. She could not tear her eyes from his. He exerted an influence upon her mind. If she did not leave immediately, she might never leave.
“Nonsense. Here,” he held out the cup, “drink the tea. Please? You appear disquietingly pale. This will restore your constitution.”
Gingerly, she accepted the cup and sipped the hot black liquid. He was correct. The brew warmed and invigorated her, and immediately she felt restored. Still, she held the coverlet fast against her body with her free hand.
He settled in the chair across from her and nodded in approval at each sip she took. He brought his fingertips to his chin; with an air lacking self-consciousness or doubt, he proceeded to impart his thoughts on her disorder.
“As is usual in such cases, the problem, I suspect, is that you have closed yourself off from all feeling. In order to regain your memory, you must be free of all inhibitions. It is only then that you will remember.”
He rose and walked over to the hearth. “Are you cold? Shall I make you a fire?” He poked at the logs with the fire iron.
“No. I am comfortable.”
“Good, then let us commence with your physical exam.”
He stood and took the cup from her hands and placed it upon the night table.
“Lie back and relax. It will not take long. We must be certain your lapse o
f memory is not due to a physical injury.”
She tensed. Whatever he suspected about her past, surely he did not expect her to expose herself to him in this manner. “I thought you were a doctor of the mind, sir, not of the body.”
He stroked his thick dark beard as he spoke. “It is natural that my training would also include a good knowledge of the body and its inner workings. The two are related.”
Leaning over her, he slowly withdrew the coverlet from her body.
“But surely you mean to allow me to cover myself?”
“You have nothing to fear from me,” he said, and sat beside her. “The body is to be celebrated. It is a work of divine beauty. You see, I do not believe in the stays and corsets that societal mores have forced upon you." His lip curled and his voice rose slightly. "The garments of our day constrict the female figure. They inhibit and confine to create an unnatural form. It is not healthy. Allow me to free you from your restraints. If you do, I promise that I shall free you from all that has shackled you in the past.”
“Yes, doctor,” she conceded. “Do what you must, as you are the physician.” How could this be worse than any other indignity she'd suffered? At least she'd landed softly here. She had no intention of spending another night in a barn, and although the doctor seemed somewhat eccentric, she did not believe he wished her harm.
She inhaled deeply as he pulled the warm covering down her torso, exposing her flesh. He reacted with a delight apparent in the slight rise of his upper lip and a glimmer in his eyes. At once, it was replaced by one of concern, followed by anger. Figuring she'd miscalculated, she began to tremble and closed her eyes tightly.
“How did you sustain this injury?" He lightly traced the skin over the ribs on her left side. She winced in pain. "Who did this to you?”
She opened her eyes and glanced down. Taking in what he had seen, she gasped in horror—the ugly bluish black of a bruise spread all along the side of her body. How could she have forgotten? How could she have known that he would see her in the nude, so soon?
“I...I...must have fallen. I do not remember." She tried to rise but the pain reared itself to a devilish head. "It hurts so.”
“Lie down," he said, easing her back upon the pillow. "Surely this is not the result of a fall. If you’ve not broken a rib, you’ve surely bruised one, if not several." He raised his voice and looked at her pointedly. "Tell me the name of the scoundrel who would do this to a woman. He deserves to be drawn and quartered!”
He rose suddenly and clenched his fists. His eyes flamed intensely.
“I really—I’m sorry . . .I do not know what happened—” She only wished she could erase that memory. She was fortunate to have escaped with no worse. It was his face she wanted to obliterate. She'd given as good as she'd gotten, but it had been too close. She'd barely escaped with her life. Another quick departure with nothing but the clothes on her back. How long could she continue to live this way? She blinked rapidly to stay the tears that welled in her eyes.
The doctor took a deep breath and exhaled the fury from his face. She knew he thought her frightened and wished to calm her.
“Never mind that now. But, if one day you do remember what transpired, you must give me your word that you will tell me.”
"I promise, doctor," she said. Despite what the future might hold, the fact that he'd exhibited such fury at a wrong visited upon her, that he would even care, touched her in a way she'd not felt in a very long time.
He returned to her side and spoke tenderly. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I sincerely apologize.”
She drew the blanket over her body and up to her neck. “It is only that I am . . . embarrassed . . . to be exposed to this--this exam. I am not well, doctor.” In that, she spoke the truth. She was exhausted. "I suppose it was my good fortune to find my way to the door of a physician." She smiled weakly.
“You need not be. The human body is nothing to be ashamed of.” He took her hand in his and held it gently. “There, now. You may close your eyes if you wish,” he said.
Like any modest woman examined by her doctor, she closed her eyes tightly and waited. He ran his fingertips over them and her lids involuntarily fluttered. She peeked out from beneath her lashes and saw him remove a sash from his pocket. Her eyes flew open in alarm.
“Hush,” he whispered. “I am not going to hurt you. I see the prospect of the exam makes you uncomfortable. I want only to ease your discomfort.”
It was true. In all the games of life and love in which she had participated, she had always been in full control. She was now forced to relinquish that control to a stranger.
“I will cover your eyes so that you needn't trouble yourself with worrisome thoughts,” he said. "That is all, nothing more."
His voice was soft and his touch gentle as he placed his hand at the back of her neck and carefully lifted her head from the pillow. She shut her eyes as he tied a black silk scarf across them and then laid her head back upon the pillow. Slowly he drew the coverlet away. She heard him rise, then listened to his footsteps cross the room. What sounded like the opening of windows, first one and then another, startled her, until the cool morning air swept into the room. The pungent smell of fresh earth and fallen leaves filled her nostrils but did little to clear her head. Gooseflesh rose on her skin and her nipples contracted as the breeze tickled the pink points of flesh. She felt strangely alive.
The inky blackness of the silk successfully insured that she was unable to glimpse what was to come. She did not hear the sound of his footsteps but knew he remained in the room. His presence was palpable and she suspected that he hovered near and looked upon her pale nakedness.
“Doctor, are you there?” she asked.
His footsteps grew closer until she sensed him standing over her. The right side of the bed dipped under his weight. The scent of cloves and musk filled the air.
“Yes. I am here. I’m right beside you,” he said. “The fresh morning air will clear your lungs and your mind. If you become too chilled, you will let me know. Now, let us commence with the examination of your body. Later we will begin to delve into that of your mind. Again,” he reassured, “you have nothing to fear from me. I will never hurt you. My single desire is to heal you.”
She lay still, awaiting his touch. The wisp of his fingertips crossed her neck creating a sensual charge of energy that traveled through her body. It was as if she had never been touched before. He stopped when he found the throbbing vein in her neck and held his fingers fast, counting the beat of her heart.
After what seemed an eternity, the warmth of his hands traveled to her breasts. He held their fullness, one in each hand, then brushed the tips of her nipples with his fingers. Was it his touch or merely the brazen autumn breeze that danced across them? The tiny points hardened and ached to be suckled. She involuntarily arched her back in response.
The sleeve of his waistcoat tickled the erect nipple of her left breast. The heat between her legs rose and she turned her face from him. An intensity awakened that she had not yet experienced in her life. She whimpered as his hand traveled the length of her sternum and settled upon her abdomen, just inches from the thickness of her golden forest.
“I promise to make this as comfortable for you as possible,” he said.
His voice was soft and hypnotic. He was her doctor and she should do as he asked.
“I will need to examine you to see if you are with child. Please bend your knees and spread your legs.”
Alarmed, she shifted uneasily. “But I am not carrying a child, of that I am certain.” She had taken all the precautions necessary to ensure this would never happen.
“I believe you, but we must nonetheless check. You may have been taken advantage of during your lapse in memory. Unfortunately there are men who would compromise a lady as fine as yourself, given the first opportunity to do so. But let us not speak of the sins of men. Truly, there have been numerous cases of women who carried a babe to term without the knowledge they were with chil
d. It is a precautionary measure. Now, if you will, please do as I have asked.”
She raised her knees and brought her heels close.
He slipped his finger between the tender folds of her lips. Silky dew flowed from her channel to lubricate the passage. His finger slipped into the waiting valley. The only sound was his breath as he exhaled and pushed into the narrow opening. All the while he spoke tender words, assuring that he would be gentle, that she need not worry.
Was she imagining it, or was his thumb now strategically placed so that he teased the tender bud between her thighs? The probing finger caused his thumb to rub up and down against her, leaving her anxious to press back against his touch. As he continued to manipulate the throbbing hotness of her sex, the doctor gently pressed with his free hand against her abdomen. She opened herself to him.
“It is not so unpleasant if you relax.”
“No,” she whispered. Her hips began to move in slow rhythm to his probing finger. She groaned as the deliciously warm silky wetness slid down her thighs. “Oh, oh,” she cried as a mad hysteria overcame her. She lost control and release came in waves of delight as she lay back upon the bed, exhausted. He withdrew from her and pulled the light blanket to her chin and then removed the sash from her eyes.
Her cheeks warmed. She turned from him and closed her eyes. The reaction was involuntary. Never in her life had the touch of a man roused such carnal passion. Had she now revealed, not only to herself but also to him, the type of woman she was? The error could be fatal! For those brief moments she had lost sight of who she was and why she had come.
“Remarkable.” His voice was barely audible.
He held her chin in his palm and raised her head upward. She had no choice but to look into his eyes.
“By placing your trust in me you have taken the first step toward truth and healing. Did you know that?"
She nodded weakly. She did not believe him, though she wanted to. What a comforting thought, to trust fully, to live safely in the knowledge that another soul could be relied upon always to provide a safe haven.
