Page 7 of A Duke to Restore her Memory

“Do you remember anything?” The duke stared at her intently. “Anything at all?”

Christina sighed heavily. “Nothing yet.”

He nodded. They kept walking along the top of the cliffs. A soft breeze lifted the bonnet’s ribbons tied beneath her chin, cooling her enflamed cheeks.

They had been walking here for the past twenty minutes, gazing out over the sea, watching tall ships on the horizon. The duke hadn’t spoken much – he had simply watched her.

I wonder what his sister and her friend are doing this morning. I wonder if his sister knows about this excursion and if she would approve of it.

“Are your sister and her friend visiting Newquay Hall for a while?” she asked suddenly, turning to him.

The duke gave a short laugh. “Oh, Lydia lives at Newquay with me,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I forgot that you did not realize that. She has been staying at Lady Frances’s London residence with her family for a month … and then the ladies decided they could not bear to be separated, so Lady Frances returned with my sister.”

“Oh,” said Christina, feeling surprised and a little unsettled. “And how long will Lady Frances be staying for?”

The duke shrugged. “An indefinite period. Newquay Hall is large enough to accommodate many guests for a long time.” His grin widened. “She will leave when she and Lydia grow tired of each other, I suppose.”

Christina nodded, biting her lip and turning her gaze back to the sea. The feeling of disquiet increased. She was sure that Lady Lydia Cavendish did not like her at all.

The lady’s gaze had been very cold. But then again, Christina could hardly blame her, could she?

The lady had returned home from a trip away to find a usurper in the house, a strange woman who couldn’t remember if she was a servant, a governess, or the Queen of England herself. She couldn’t blame the lady for being a bit suspicious and wary of her.

Lady Frances seemed friendlier towards her and genuinely curious. But Lady Frances was a guest at Newquay just like herself. She had limited sway there. She glanced back at the duke.

Lady Frances was very beautiful, with her shining red-gold hair, sparkling blue eyes, and willowy figure. Surely the duke must have noticed that before? Was there something between them?

Quickly, she turned away, her heart beating hard. The feeling of disquiet increased. For some reason, she didn’t like the thought of it. Was it a small knot of envy that had lodged in her breast and stuck there?

But how could that be? She was a stranger to the duke. He owed her nothing. And there was no way he could ever contemplate her in that way. He didn’t know who she was. She didn’t even know who she was!

He is a duke. He would be attracted to a great lady, not a strange, bedraggled woman who fell into a mine and has forgotten who she even is. A lady like Lady Frances.

“This must be the spot where you fell,” said the duke suddenly, interrupting her reverie. “Think, Georgina. Is anything coming back to you?”

Christina sighed heavily, looking down. The cliff face reared dramatically. Hesitantly, she took a step forward. It was a dramatic drop. Her head started to spin a little. Was she suffering from vertigo … or was it something else?

She gasped, feeling her body go hot and then cold. She felt a sweat break out, small drops running down the back of her neck. What was happening to her?

She saw a bird … a large bird … and then, she was falling, tumbling, over and over, as if it would never end …

“What is it?” The duke put his hand on her arm, gazing at her intently. “What is it?”

“I … I do not know,” she stammered, feeling as if she were going to be sick. “I … I see a bird in my vision, and then I am falling … I cannot recall anything else!”

The duke looked pained. “Well, at least it is a start.” He turned, peering over the cliff. His face clouded as he pointed downwards. “Look, Georgina. There is a bird’s nest. Maybe that is what you are referring to? Maybe you were looking over the ledge at the bird’s nest … and lost your balance?”

“Perhaps,” she whispered, staring at the nest, feeling rather mesmerized by it. There were three shiny eggs in it, but no sign of the bird that had laid them. Perhaps it was out foraging for food. She frowned. “But that is all I can remember.” She turned back to the duke. “You think that was the beginning of it? The moment when I fell?”

“Most likely,” he replied slowly. He smiled at her. “Do not look so solemn. It is a good thing that you are remembering that, at least. It means that your whole memory may be returning … and you will soon recall who you are and where you live.”

Christina gulped hard. “No one has come forward to say they know who I am?”

He shook his head slowly. “I am afraid not,” he replied, gazing at her with a look of sympathy. “I wrote letters to all the neighbouring estates, and Mrs Sollock has asked around as well. No one knows who you are, Georgina.”

Christina felt a pang of sorrow and pain. She really was nobody. She didn’t belong to any of the families or places around here. She frowned, her mind starting to spin in confusion again. But how could that be? How could no one know who she was?

Hesitantly, she touched the wound on her forehead. It was healing well. Dr Watson had told her she would have quite a scar, but otherwise, it was fine. The same could not be said for the interior of her head, however.

It was still a barren landscape devoid of the details of her life and who she was. She frowned. No, that wasn’t true – all those details were still in there. They must be. She just couldn’t access them anymore. They were completely out of reach.

She shivered in the breeze. She really was tabula rasa – a blank slate.

She gazed down at the gown she was wearing. It was a plain grey gown, in the style of a nun, with no adornment.

Mrs Sollock had given it to her, along with two other similar gowns, to replace the ripped, dirty gown she had been wearing the day of the accident. The gown told the world that she was someone of little importance.

Her frown deepened. She had gone through the bag found on the cliff along with the horse she had apparently brought with her that day.

It contained a faded dress, some undergarments, a shawl, a battered leather purse containing a few coins, and the apple the duke had told her about. The apple was large, shiny, and glossy. A snack for a long journey?

She had stared hard at it all, praying it would evoke something in her mind, but there was nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition.

“I must have been on a journey,” she said suddenly, turning to the duke, her heart thumping hard. “Why else would no one in this area know who I am?”

He nodded slowly. “That is what I have been thinking, as well,” he said hesitantly. “But England, although an island, is large enough that it will take quite a while to comb the length of it to find out where you are from, Georgina.”

She felt a pang of pain. “Yes. I know.”

She turned away so he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. Did she have a family? A mother, father, and siblings? Did she have friends … and maybe a sweetheart?

She gazed down at her hand. There was no ring on her wedding finger. She knew she wasn’t married, at least. There was no husband in some house somewhere wondering where on earth she was.

Did I run away? Was my life intolerable? Or was I merely on a journey to visit someone?

She strained her mind, trying to remember, but there was no use. She shuddered, passing a weary hand across her forehead.

“Come on,” said the duke in a gentle voice. “Let us go and visit some of my mines. I will introduce you to the workers. And then we will take a long walk on the beach.” He hesitated. “Try not to get discouraged, Georgina. It will not be like this forever.”

Christina nodded, but she didn’t know whether she believed him. Perhaps she was destined to be stuck in this limbo forever. Perhaps she would never remember who she was … and she would remain Georgina for life.

***

They walked along the beach, gazing into the distance, the soft hiss of the waves against the shore lapping against their feet.

Christina couldn’t help smiling to herself. The visit to the mines had been so interesting and informative. She had chatted with some of the miners, who were friendly towards her.

She had felt the duke’s eyes upon her the whole time, gazing at her approvingly. The only disappointment was the fact that none of the workers had any idea who she was, either. They had never seen her before in their lives.

Suddenly, she stopped, gasping for breath. The duke rushed to her side.

“Georgina, what is it?” he demanded. “Are you quite well?”

“I just remembered something,” she stammered. “A grand ball … dancers twirling around a ballroom … the sound of laughter and chatter …”

“Anything else?” he asked, staring at her. “Is that all?”

Christina slumped. “That is all.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “What does it mean?”

The duke shrugged. “It means you were either attending that ball or in service at it,” he replied. “You truly cannot remember any other details? You cannot remember if you were dancing or perhaps standing on the edge of the ballroom as if you were a servant observing it?”

She shook her head mournfully. “No. It is just flashes of memory. That is all.” Suddenly she brightened, turning to him. “You said that I was riding that horse you found? That the horse is mine?”

He nodded. “I believe so …”

She gripped his arm without thinking, quite tightly. “But the horse was wearing a saddle! It might have an identifying mark or insignia on it!”

A slow smile spread across his face. “You know, you are right. It might have.” He paused, grinning down at her. “I did not even think of that! You are clever, Georgina.”

She blushed. “It just occurred to me. The thought just lodged into my mind.” Hastily, she took her hand away, gazing up at him. “Should we head back to Newquay Hall and check?”

His grin widened. “Yes, let us do it now.” He hesitated, his brown eyes shining, as he gazed down at her. “Although I am loathe to end this excursion. It has been such a wonderful morning, Georgina. I have enjoyed it immensely.”

“As have I,” she replied, suddenly feeling shy.

They kept gazing at each other. She felt the air tense around them as if the breeze had changed suddenly. A shadow fell across the sand, and she blinked, gazing up into the sky.

It was a large bird gliding on outstretched wings. She watched as it circled overhead before heading towards the cliffs. Her heart lurched as she watched it approach the nest, settling atop the eggs. It let out a squawk.

Christina shivered. She remembered that bird. It was true – she had seen it the morning she had fallen into the mine shaft. She could almost feel the beat of its wing brushing against her head …

“Georgina?” The duke touched her arm. “Shall we go?”

She took a deep breath, nodding. They kept walking. Her heart was beating erratically. She was starting to remember things. Small things, but at least it was a start. And perhaps the clue to who she was might be on that saddle. She couldn’t wait to look at it now.