Page 12 of A Duke to Restore her Memory
“This is my favourite view over the district,” declared Lady Frances, her green eyes shining like jewels, as she gazed over the hill, sitting astride the horse. She turned to Christina. “It is wonderful country here. I always enjoy the break from London.”
Christina breathed the pure, fresh air, feeling it lifting the curls falling down her neck. She patted the horse’s neck, murmuring to it reassuringly.
It was the sleek black horse that she apparently owned, of course. When Lady Frances had surprised her by suggesting this ride together over the hills surrounding Newquay Hall, she had known that she could not consider any other horse.
The only reason she knew that she could ride was the presence of the black beast in the stables, after all.
She knew she had made the right choice as soon as they headed out over the fields beyond the house, cantering briskly. Oddly, the black horse seemed like an extension of her own body. As soon as she tightened the muscles of her legs or drew the reins in a certain way, the horse responded. Riding the horse was like a dream.
I wish I knew the horse’s name. I wish I could remember riding it and our relationship. But this is the next best thing.
“Do you want to get down and walk for a bit?” asked Lady Frances, smiling at her. “It might be nice to let the horses rest and drink from the stream.”
Christina nodded. “That would be nice.”
When the horses were drinking from the stream, and they were sitting side by side on a rock overlooking the sea, Christina turned, studying the lady covertly. She still couldn’t quite believe that Lady Frances had invited her to ride with her. Apparently, Lady Lydia was out for the day, visiting a friend near the village and Frances hadn’t wanted to accompany her.
Christina knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this would never have happened if Lydia were around. That lady still distrusted and disliked her as much as ever. There was simply no way she would have gone riding with her.
Her heart contorted. Apparently, the duke was at home today, but she hadn’t seen him at all, and Lady Frances hadn’t mentioned him.
In the two weeks since their visit to the nearby village, he had been avoiding her, keeping his distance. But strangely, Lady Frances had been approaching her instead, with overtures of friendship completely at odds with the attitude of her hosts.
When, oh when, will I finally get my memory back? When will I be able to leave Newquay Hall and begin my real life again?
“How are you?” asked Frances, turning to her and looking at her intently. “Have you any indication of your memory returning yet?”
Christina shook her head sorrowfully. “No. Not at all.” Her jaw tightened. “It is so frustrating! I sometimes feel as if it is at the edge of my mind, but it just will not emerge.”
“It will,” said Frances in a kind voice. “It will happen when it is time.” She hesitated. “I wonder what your place is in this world. It must be rather liberating to have no place and not be anchored to a position or station in life, though. Sometimes, I feel like I would like to escape mine.”
“Why?” asked Christina, surprised as she gazed at the lady. It was the last thing she had expected her to say. Lady Frances seemed to have it all – position, beauty, charm, and kindness. “Why do you wish to escape your life?”
Frances sighed. “Oh, I do not know! I sometimes feel constrained. That is all.” She reached down, picking a daisy on the edge of the stream and twirling it around in her hand. “Lydia is always hinting that I should encourage the duke and try to become the next Duchess of Newquay. But I have no stomach for it. The duke has always been like a brother to me … but I just cannot seem to get Lydia to acknowledge that.”
Christina reddened, not knowing how to respond at all. It was obvious to her now, even if Frances hadn’t spoken about it, that Lady Lydia was fierce in her intention to play matchmaker with her brother and best friend.
“I will confess it to you,” whispered Frances, her cheeks turning pink. “There is someone else I have my eye upon … but I am unsure whether he returns my affection. Lydia would be appalled.”
Christina laughed. “Lady Lydia does not control your life and who you fall in love with. You do not need her permission.” She hesitated, thinking about the other lady and how much she disapproved of her. “I think I have well and truly overstayed my welcome at Newquay Hall. But I have no idea what to do or where else to go. It is so frustrating.”
She picked up a pebble, throwing it into the stream, watching it skip along the water’s surface. Her heart contracted again.
The duke was probably heartily sick of her presence in his home, as well, judging by his avoidance of her – and despite their closeness on the day they had visited the village. Lady Lydia wanted her gone for good.
A small kernel of panic lodged in her chest. What was she going to do? How could she keep imposing on the duke and his sister …especially since they both clearly wanted her gone?
***
“A brandy, Lord Powell?” Sebastian picked up the bottle, looking at the other gentleman, who had just arrived at Newquay Hall out of the blue and was now ensconced in an upholstered chair near the fire in his study. “Have you journeyed far today?”
The gentleman shifted in the chair, nodding his head. “A brandy would be welcome, Newquay. And yes, it has been a long journey to get here.” He paused, his eyes narrowing, as Sebastian passed him a tumbler of brandy. “But I am hoping that this visit will be fruitful.”
Sebastian sat opposite the man, sipping his own brandy, wondering why on earth Powell was here. They weren’t close friends despite the gentleman being a major investor in his mines.
In fact, Sebastian secretly despised the man, almost as much as he despised Walter Hester, and that was really saying something.
He ran an eye over the gentleman. Powell was a large man in early middle age, with a bulky physique, coarse silver threaded black hair, and a bulbous nose. His small black eyes were almost opaque, giving nothing away about the man’s thoughts. Sebastian knew him to be a tyrant, treating his servants and workers with utter contempt, and he also had a reputation for ruthlessness in business, although he hadn’t seen that side of the man. Yet.
“Perhaps we should get straight to the point, Powell,” said Sebastian, putting down his drink and gazing at the gentleman. “Why exactly are you here?”
Powell gave a bark of laughter. “You know that falling prices for copper are affecting many mines in this area of Cornwall,” he said slowly, as he swirled the brandy around in the tumbler. “Including your own, Newquay.”
“And?” Sebastian’s voice was edged with tension. “What is your point?”
“I am about to marry into the Draycott family,” stated Powell with a smirk. “I plan to leverage Viscount Draycott’s name to raise funds for my own business ventures.” He took a deep breath. “My ultimate goal is to acquire total ownership of your mines, Newquay … but if you refuse to sell to me, then I will invest in the Hester mines instead.”
“Is that your way of trying to butter me up to sell to you?” Sebastian couldn’t keep the acid out of his voice. “I do not much like your manner, Powell.”
Powell smiled slowly. “I came to you first because of your noble lineage, Newquay.” He paused, taking a long sip of his brandy. “The Hester family are nothing but filthy merchants. I would much rather own your mines and the noble association they have rather than acquire the Hester’s mines, which are tainted by their filth.”
“You certainly call a spade a spade,” remarked Sebastian, raising his eyebrows, trying not to show how much he despised the gentleman.
Powell was still a major investor in his mines, and he didn’t want him to pull out entirely. It would leave him in a very vulnerable position indeed. He must play this encounter very carefully, even if he did want to ram his fist into the other gentleman’s smug face. He suppressed a wave of anger and indignation. There was no way he would sell his entire mines to the man … but Powell didn’t need to know that yet.
“I certainly do,” said Powell, with a small, smug smile, looking proud of the fact. He finished his brandy, slamming the tumbler onto the table, and stared at Sebastian. “I will give you until the end of the month to decide, Newquay. I must keep going … for I have other business to attend to.”
“And what is that?” asked Sebastian, despising the man and the fact he couldn’t tell him to go to hell outright and take his offer to hell with him.
“I am searching for … a relation,” he said in a vague voice. “You do not need to concern yourself with it. But I must keep on with it. Time is ticking.” Abruptly, he stood up. “Until we meet again, Newquay. I would ponder my offer very carefully if I were you. You will not get another one so good.”
Sebastian drained his glass, got to his feet, and faced the man. “I will ponder it. That is all I can promise.”
Powell nodded, inclining his head curtly, before turning and leaving the room without another word.
Sebastian walked to the window, watching the gentleman climb into his carriage before it started rattling away down the long driveway and through the high gates. His stomach was churning unpleasantly.
He would rather die than sell outright to Powell, but the gentleman had spoken the truth – copper prices were falling and with other instabilities in the industry, he knew he was in a precarious position, indeed.
Suddenly, he jumped. Two horses were cantering towards the house from the other direction and were close enough now that he could clearly see the riders.
His eyes widened in shock. It was Lady Frances … and Georgina. There was no sign of a third horse carrying his sister, but then he remembered she was away for the day, visiting a friend in the district.
His heart started to pound as he fixated on Georgina, who was riding the black horse. Every time he saw her, even from afar, he was struck by her beauty anew.
His breath caught in his throat as his eyes roamed over her avidly. He had been avoiding her these past weeks after his sister’s lecture about her, but it hadn’t been easy. Every fibre of his being wanted to approach her, speak with her, and be in her company.
He frowned. It was odd that Lady Frances had befriended her like this and clearly knew to do it when his sister wasn’t around, for Lydia wouldn’t approve of their outing at all. In fact, Lydia would be outraged.
A deep sense of shame entered his heart. He was being just as snobbish towards Georgina as his sister, despite the fact he yearned to be with her. He consoled himself that he was doing it for the right reasons. He was drawn to the mysterious, beautiful woman and couldn’t afford to indulge the attraction.
She will be gone presently. Her memory will return shortly, and I will never have to see her again. This torment will soon be over. And a part of me cannot wait for the day.