Page 38 of Tamed By a Passionate Lady
She felt herself flushing, too, the colour heating up her face as if it was a hot summer’s day. Her heart leapt with the deepest, purest pleasure.
He wanted to move back into their bedroom.
Her heart was beating so fast, it felt like a jackhammer in her chest. His bashful request floored her. How was it possible that he was so changed towards her? It was almost as if he was a different man, at least in his attitude, entirely.
He was still the same man, deep down. The accident, and his problems with his memory, had not changed his fundamental self. He still liked to do all the things that he had done before it had occurred: poring over history books, his interest in the local birdlife…but the deep sorrow that he had been preoccupied with had seemingly vanished, along with a good portion of his memory.
He wanted to move back into their bedroom.
A thrill of pure delight swept through her, and her heart pounded harder. He wanted to sleep next to her. He probably thought it was an entirely natural thing to suggest, even though he was awkward with the request. He was still feeling his way, almost groping, to connect with her.
Her colour deepened again. It might not just be sleep that he was anticipating.
She had felt his interest in her, as a woman. She often discovered him staring at her in that certain way. But he had not done anything about it; while he flattered her constantly, and stared admiringly, he had not tried to touch her. He had been a perfect gentleman.
“Of course,” he said quickly, “if you do not think it a good idea…”
She took a deep breath. Now was an opportunity to tell him the truth. To tell him that while they had shared a bed, for the two years that they had been wed, he had not enjoyed it; that their relationship had not been what he was perhaps envisioning. That perhaps it would be better if he stayed in the sick room until his memory returned.
She opened her mouth, to say it, to tell him. But the words simply would not come out. They seemed to stick in her throat.
She gazed back over the ocean for a moment, feeling the sea breeze cooling her enflamed cheeks.
She took a deep breath, turning back to him. “I have no objections,” she said slowly, her heart racing again. “But we should talk to Dr. Brown, as you say. I do not want to make a decision that would hinder your recovery at all. He may think that you would be better staying in the sick room until you are fully recovered…”
He nodded. She saw the sudden leap of delight in his eyes, but he was trying to contain it. He cleared his throat. “Of course. We must follow the doctor’s orders, to a tee.” He hesitated, gazing at her steadily. “But I must admit, I hope that he is in agreement.”
She blushed furiously again, biting her lip.
The moment hung between them, heavily, in the air. She was the first to lower her gaze, staring back at her sketchbook, seeing nothing.
***
Adaline stood at the foot of the bed in the sick room, watching intently as Dr. Brown listened to James’ heart using a long, wooden contraption. Her eyes were wide, gazing at it in wonder.
He had told her that it had only been invented the year before, by a doctor in France, and was one of the latest in medical advances. It allowed the patient’s heartbeat to be amplified in some magical way, making the physician’s job easier.
The doctor concluded his examination, dropping the contraption into his black medical bag, closing it with a snap. He smiled, gazing back at her.
“All is as it should be,” he said slowly. “Heartbeat is normal, as is everything else.” He turned back to James. “The broken leg is healing well, knitting very nicely indeed. But you will need to keep it still for a good while longer. You must not attempt to walk on it. Keep to the wheelchair. Do you understand?”
James smiled wryly. “I understand, Dr. Brown, although it is frustrating.”
The doctor stood up. “Patience, Mr. Townshend. It takes time.” He gazed at him. “Have there been any glimmers of memory of the five years past? Anything at all?”
Adaline held her breath. She almost didn’t want to hear what James was about to say. She didn’t want to hear if he was experiencing anything in that regard. She didn’t want the bubble of illusion, the world that they were starting to create together now, to shatter.
But James shook his head. “Nothing, Doctor. It is still an entire blank.” He smiled sadly. “It is as if it has been erased entirely.”
Dr. Brown nodded. “It is the trauma to the head. You understand that, do you not? You hit your head very hard, which caused the concussion. Where you hit it is obviously the place where memories are stored.” He smiled encouragingly. “They are all still in there, Mr. Townshend. They just need a little encouragement to make themselves known again.”
The doctor picked up his bag. “I think that you do not need daily visits anymore. Your physical injuries are healing well, and perhaps it would be best to let the mind work itself out in its own time, too.” He paused. “I will return in a week. But please get in contact if anything urgent comes up…”
He was already walking towards the door.
“Doctor,” said James slowly. “There is one more thing I would like to ask, if I may.”
“Yes?” Dr. Brown raised his eyebrows enquiringly.
