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R ichard rejoined Hartley and Thompson in the waiting carriage. “Did you learn anything that might assist us?” he asked.

“The coat may or may not have been hidden by one of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s ladies,” Thompson explained.

“Reportedly, one of the women long employed by the Widow of Whitehall viewed one of the newer girls with the coat in the hall outside the privates, perhaps a month or so back, but she did not report it at the time, for she did not know whether it was one the woman had used on the streets or not. Mrs. Dove-Lyon expects those she employs to go about appearing respectable when outside the gaming hell’s walls.

However, many of the girls also keep mementos and such from their lives before coming to the Lyon’s Den.

The woman still employed within had assumed it possible the coat was one belonging to a loved one or something in that manner. As Titan said, we all have our secrets.

“Unfortunately, when we asked if we might speak to the woman who had hidden the coat, we learned she left her position a few days after the shooting, saying the chaos had frightened her, and she would not stay.”

Still feeling a bit frustrated, they returned to Whitechapel and Hartley’s office to go over the details they had learned today and have them added to the file on Duncan’s attacker.

“I do have two bits of good news regarding Lady Emma,” Hartley said.

“No marriage contract between Lord Donoghue and Lord Davidson came through diplomatic lines. Such does not mean it could not have been a private arrangement. However, if you can keep Lord Davidson at bay until this coming Monday, Lady Emma Donoghue will reach her majority and cannot be coerced into a marriage not of her choice.”

Thompson suggested with a grin, “You should remove the lady from Duncan’s house and secret her away in some place no one would suspect, and then you can marry her yourself.”

Richard did not tell them of Davidson’s request of Mrs. Dove-Lyon, for he required time to digest the madness of those events first. Instead, he said, “I cannot leave London,” he declared, while his mind was attempting to discover a means to whisk Lady Emma away from danger.

“Sir Hunter is to marry the day after tomorrow, and I am to stand up with him. Hunt has always been my loyal companion. I cannot abandon him on such an important day. Moreover, we do not know if Lady Emma would accept my hand, even if I would extend a proposal. What if after our marriage her memory comes back, and the lady realizes she loves another?”

“The woman does not love another,” Thompson declared. “You should see how she looks upon you when she thinks no one is watching.”

“Another of us could escort her to, say, Beaufort’s hunting lodge,” Hartley suggested.

“Discreet. Remote. No one can approach without someone taking notice. If Davidson comes looking for her, which he will do sometime before Monday, then you can honestly say you had nothing to do with her absence. You will be seen assisting Sir Hunter. Davidson will send someone to learn if you have hidden Lady Emma away in Lincolnshire, but it will take a rider at least four, more likely five days, to be to your home shire and back. And that would be the day of Lady Emma’s emancipation. ”

Thompson leaned close as if sharing a secret.

“Hartley, here, while going about his various duties to the government, could discreetly call upon Doctors’ Commons and purchase a special license in your name and that of Lady Emma Donoghue.

You could use it if the situation proves to settle the way I think it will or never mention it to the lady.

The special license expires in five and forty days. No one would be the wiser.”

“Except me,” Richard said into the new silence of the small office.

“Yes or no?” Thompson prodded.

“I do not wish to be the object of all your barbs for the rest of my life. Neither would I wish the others to know of my foolhardiness,” Richard admitted. “Especially if the lady refuses me.”

Thompson sobered. “Neither Hartley nor I have met a woman for whom we would risk everything, but you have. We will not be your jesters. We will be your champions. You must make the attempt, Richard, so the rest of us may understand that finding affection and a family bearing our family names is truly possible. Though those Macdonald Duncan raised as his sons learned all the necessary lessons of the peerage and duty to country and more, none of us learned how to travel through life as a single in a world built for a married couple to experience it together.”

Mr. Rheem had called at ten, and Lady Theodora had volunteered to sit with Emma during the examination. “Your balance demonstrates an improvement in your recovery. And what of your appetite?” the surgeon asked.

“Lady Emma has been sharing meals with my father,” Lady Theodora supplied. “Both could stand to eat more, but they are consuming enough to be considered healthy.”

Mr. Rheem smiled easily. “Very efficient and helpful, my lady.” He gestured to Emma to have a seat. “I wish to have a close look at the injury to your head.”

Emma sat properly tall. “I am not confident my memory has returned.”

Again, Lady Theodora corrected her. “Lady Emma recalls how to play a variety of card games, as well as chess. She can keep score in her head, and she reasons well and can support her views with examples. I thought to ask her to join me in the music room, but I was unconvinced she has a love of music, especially as, according to Lord Marksman, Lady Emma has been without a governess for several years, and we all know how governesses can be sticklers for those sorts of activity.”

“Anything else?” Mr. Rheem asked as he parted Emma’s hair, moving it away from the swelling she knew had not completely dissipated, for Marjory had held a hand mirror earlier today for Emma to have a closer look at the cut.

“When we are all together and discussing this or that, Lady Emma is capable of following discussions and presenting her views,” the girl added.

Mr. Rheem said, “As you can easily view for yourself, Lady Emma, Lord Duncan encourages his daughter to be as strong-willed as his sons.”

“Are you complaining, Mr. Rheem?” Lady Theodora asked with a challenging lift of her brows.

“Not at all, my lady. I have long thought our women should know more than how to paint tables and cover screens and net purses. In my humble opinion, those are not great accomplishments, though many would speak to them as such. Personally, I see no harm in a peer who also wishes to own a newspaper or become a surgeon. It might be out of the ordinary, but too many avoid such aspirations because they would not be acceptable.”

“I remember everyday things such as how to dress myself and how to hold my fork properly, but I cannot recall who attacked me nor the common things such as the names of my house servants.”

Rheem finished his examination before he responded, “The swelling has gone down significantly and should be but a regret within the next week or so.”

“Then my memory should return soon?” Emma asked.

“Do you recall my telling you that it might be best if you did not recall what occurred three days ago?” Rheem asked.

“Yes, you said reliving that moment might haunt me if I remembered it,” she said softly. “That I would be blessed if I did not remember.”

“All that is true. I admit I believe a woman of lesser merit would suffer, but I have come to believe you are made of sterner stuff, Lady Emma Donoghue. You have stood before lords of the British realm and spoken, or perhaps I should say, shouted their shame for all to hold them accountable. You have held the peers of our land equally and personally responsible for the actual nucleus of any society: the family. Lord Duncan did what you hoped all would do—what you have missed yourself for too long. Duncan presented Orson, Marksman, Beaufort, Thompson, and Graham a sense of family, where none existed. Through their formative years, his lordship gave the children of other peers a model for their lives. Though you do not wish to hear this, your parents’ absence has you questioning the idea of whether you have ever known family. ”

“You think my attack has something to do with my parents’ absence?” Emma asked, confused by what the surgeon meant for her to comprehend.

“Lord Davidson has claimed he is in negotiation with Lady Emma’s father regarding a marriage contract,” Lady Theodora shared.

“That toad?” Rheem said in disgust. “Davidson is the perfect example of what your acquaintances have protested against: He is a man who thinks himself superior to every female, and most of the men, who walk on this earth. Men like Davidson have forgotten that God created Eve from Adam’s rib.

They were made to live together. To assist each other.

Davidson does not want to admit that his lack of children is his fault, not the three women he has married and publicly divorced while ruining their reputations with charges before the Lords.

His lordship cannot simply move to Scotland for six months and obtain a quieter divorce there; he wishes to belittle the women he could not bring to child, despite it likely being his fault. ”

Emma knew she blushed, but she did not wish to think of the prospects of having to succumb to Davidson’s touch.

Instead, she asked, “I repeat myself: Do you believe my mind is purposely, or perhaps better said, subconsciously, choosing not to remember my ordeal? That I would be better off not remembering?”

“I suppose I am,” Rheem admitted.

“Why?” Emma demanded.

“Because you trusted the person who attacked you, and he or she betrayed you,” Rheem said. “Remembering means knowing you trusted the wrong person, and you fear you might do so again.”

“Pardon, my lady,” Mr. Fields said when Lady Theodora responded to a knock at Lady Emma’s door. “Lord Davidson is below and demanding he speak to Lady Emma.”