Page 37 of Tamed By a Passionate Lady
Dr. Brown had worked with him in the three weeks since he had awoken. The doctor now realised that his memory was sketchy before the five year point, too. Dr. Brown had worked hard to make him remember, but James still had no memory of who she was, or the last five years of his life, no matter how hard he tried.
“Give it time,” the doctor had told him, when James was frustrated. “The mind is a strange thing, Mr. Townshend. Do not put too much pressure on yourself. Your recovery is remarkable, considering the extent of your injuries.”
He remembered Reuben and Isabel. But not as they now were. He had been shocked when he had first seen the young woman, shaking his head in amazement.
“You are all grown up,” he had said, in an incredulous voice. “I still remember you as a little thirteen year old. You used to make me read youArabian Nights.”
Reuben, of course, did not look so very different in the five years. But Adaline had heard James tease his friend, saying that his hair had thinned dramatically, and that he was starting to look like his father. Reuben had glowered just a little bit.
They had all worked hard to help his recovery. When it became apparent that a wheelchair was necessary, Reuben had offered to travel to Liverpool to procure one. Isabel often walked James around the garden in the morning, and of an evening, she would sit by his bedside reading to him. She had even found an old copy ofArabian Nightsin the library, a fact that amused James greatly.
He was in good spirits, most of the time. But he often became frustrated by the inactivity. The wheelchair was a hindrance to him. He had always been an active man, used to taking long walks, and Adaline saw that being dependent on other people was a trial to him. But he seemed to bear it well, accepting the fact that there was nothing he could do about it for the moment, until his badly broken leg fully healed and he was able to walk again.
It was the gaps in his memory which troubled him more. She had seen him look sad and lost after his sessions with Dr. Brown, and almost unbearably weary with the effort of trying to remember.
Adaline bit her lip as she gazed at his smiling face. A pang of guilt shot through her. She knew that she could be helping more to recover his memory. Dr. Brown had told her to speak to him of their life together, in as much detail as possible, to see if it would trigger something in the deepest recesses of his mind. But she had not done so. In fact, she had tried to talk as little as possible about what their life had been like at Birkenhead Lodge before the accident.
Her face reddened with shame. A very big part of her didn’t want him to remember their life before the accident happened. It was as simple as that.
She knew she was being selfish. She knew that this magical time that they were spending together now could not last. The only reason he was being attentive to her, and gazing at her in such open admiration, was because hedidn’tremember what it had been like between them. He didn’t recall at all that he had been deliberately distant with her, pushing her away, nor his secret reasons for having done so.
Amazingly, he seemed to believe that they had a loving relationship. The kind of relationship she had always dreamed of having with him.
She turned away for a moment, gazing out across the ocean, so conflicted she could not even look at him. Was it so very awful to grasp this unexpected and wonderful time with him, while she still had it? To pretend, by not mentioning it, that their relationship had indeed been loving?
Because she knew that his memory could return at any given moment. She was always waiting for realisation to dawn on him. For his face to change, like clouds scuttling over a clear sky, as he remembered what it had truly been like between them. She knew that when that day came, she must accept it. But couldn’t she put it off for as long as possible?
“Adaline?” His voice sounded worried. “Are you quite alright, dearest?”
Dearest.The term of endearment sliced like an arrow through her heart. Her eyes filled with sudden tears.
“Why will you not look at me?” he asked, in a quiet voice. “What is wrong?”
She took a deep breath, fighting back the tears. When she felt quite composed she turned around, plastering a smile onto her face.
“There is nothing wrong,” she replied slowly. “I do not see why we cannot stay out for a little while longer, if you like.” She hesitated. “But you may prefer your solitude in the garden. I can come and fetch you in another half an hour, if you like…”
He looked amazed. “Why would I want such a thing? I spend quite enough time alone in the sick room as it is.” His gaze was intense, as he stared at her. “Besides, Iwantto spend as much time with you as I can, Adaline. I want to get to know you again. It is one of my deepest regrets, that I cannot recall the times that we spent together in the past…”
Her smile wavered, just a little, but she recovered quickly.
“Do not dwell on it,” she said. “I am sure it is exactly as Dr. Brown says. Your memory will eventually return, in its own time. Do not exert yourself too much.” She paused, gazing at him shyly. “Well, if you are quite resolved, I am very happy to spend more time with you out here as well.”
His eyes lit up. “I was very much hoping that you would say that.”
She nodded, feeling so deliriously happy that he was desirous of her company, that the words she had been about to say dissolved on her tongue. She felt as if the power of speech had deserted her entirely.
She sat back down on the seat she had been occupying, opening her sketchbook again. Her fingers were itching to sketch something else now. It was amazing, how free she felt with her creative urge, how confident and full of ideas, since they had been spending this precious time together since the accident. It was as if his attention had unlocked something deep inside her.
She glanced back at him, shyly, fully expecting that he would be perusing his book again. But to her startled delight, he was staring straight at her, an almost yearning look on his face.
“Adaline,” he said, hesitantly. “I know that I am still injured, but I am very much improved…”
He stopped talking, his colour deepening just a little.
“Yes?” she prompted.
He took a deep breath. “I was wondering…if we spoke to Dr. Brown, and he was in agreement…if I could move back into our marital chamber?” His last words came out in a rush, and his colour deepened further still.
