Page 11 of A Duke to Restore her Memory
The conversation drifted on to other subjects. Sebastian tried to focus but couldn’t stop thinking about the mysterious house guest again. The beautiful young woman who was sleeping upstairs and had no memory of her life or even who she was.
He shifted in the chair, filled with restlessness. He wanted to see her again. He tried to tell himself it was only because he was concerned for her – that he was exercising his duty of care to ensure that she was comfortable and had everything she needed. She had suffered a head injury after all.
Anything could happen. He needed to keep his eye on her and send for Dr Watson promptly if her condition deteriorated.
Mrs Sollock can do that. It is her job. Any of the servants can do it. You do not need to involve yourself with her at all if you do not want to.
He shifted in the chair again. The plain fact was he did want to involve himself. She had stirred his curiosity … and something more. Something that had lain dormant for a long time. Something he had thought he would never feel again …
A sense of unease stole over him. He really must be very careful. For he knew nothing about her at all. Georgina, the mysterious woman, could indeed be anyone.
Chapter 6
“How beautiful,” whispered Christina to herself as she gazed towards the sea from the vantage point of a high balcony at Newquay Hall. She shook her head incredulously, almost unable to believe what she was seeing. “It is truly breathtaking.”
She inhaled deeply, unable to tear her eyes away from the stunning vista beyond. The sun was setting, appearing to melt into the sea, spreading orange and yellow into the water like paints smeared.
The sky was an intense orange and red, streaked with purple and a touch of blue. The dramatic, craggy cliffs appeared starkly black against the sky.
She shook her head again. It seemed that she would never tire of this view. She had been coming here every day since the duke had brought her to Newquay Hall just over a week ago. She had discovered the private balcony at the side of the house as she had wandered around, exploring. She was left to her own devices for most of the time. Mrs Sollock and the other servants were polite but distant – it seemed like they didn’t quite know how to handle her. Was she one of them or a part of the duke’s world? Was she a servant or not? Who exactly was she – and where did she fit in the world?
I wish I knew the answers to those questions. But my mind is still a complete blank. It is like I was born anew when I awoke in that mine shaft. It is like I didn’t exist at all until that moment.
Her eyes misted with tears. She was trying so hard. Dr Watson had called and examined her again, asking her questions to try to prompt her memory, but it hadn’t worked.
The physician had shaken his head and looked concerned, but he didn’t say anything except he would call again next week. It seemed there was nothing more he could do to help her.
What is to become of me? Where will I go, and what will I do if I never recover my memory? I cannot remain here as a houseguest of the duke forever. I have already imposed on him far more than I like.
Her cheeks reddened. She hadn’t seen much of the duke at all – he was keeping a firm distance from her. Or perhaps he was just very busy and didn’t have the time to check on her. Whatever the reason, he seemed content to leave her to her own devices, as well, roaming his home like a ghost.
She ate all her meals in her room. It seemed that no one could decide if she should eat with the servants or with the master of the house, and so it was as good a compromise as they could find.
“Are you enjoying the view?”
Christina spun around, her heart pounding. The duke stepped out onto the balcony, the wind catching his dark curling hair. Her heart started to pound harder still. This was the closest she had been to him in days, and it was as if she had quite forgotten how handsome he was. She gazed at his patrician profile, the straight line of his nose, the firmness of his jawline, the sweep of his cheekbones, as he gazed out to sea.
“Very much,” she replied in a faltering voice. “It is stunning. I have never seen anything quite like it.”
“Ah, but you do not know that, do you?” His voice was filled with amusement. He turned to her, his brown eyes flickering over her. “Have you recovered any of your memory? Anything at all?”
“No, I have not,” she said, her cheeks burning. For some reason, she felt embarrassed or ashamed, as if she were just not trying hard enough – as if it were some kind of moral failing on her behalf that she couldn’t remember a single thing about her own life. “I am sorry …”
“There is no need to apologize,” he interjected, raising his eyebrows. “It is no trouble having you here at all.” He hesitated. “Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?”
Christina laughed mirthlessly. “You can help me to forget that I have forgotten my entire life.”
The duke snorted with laughter, his brown eyes gleaming with amusement and admiration as he gazed at her.
“Very well,” he said, a teasing smile playing around his lips. “I can do that for you. What would you like me to discuss to distract you?”
Christina took a deep breath, turning back to the view. “You can tell me about your life here,” she said, her heart lurching. “You can tell me why you love this area so much that you never want to live anywhere else.”
“Very well,” he said, rubbing his chin with one hand. He turned and stared again at the sea in the distance. “I played on that beach often as a child, exploring every nook and cranny on the cliffs, every rock pool … there is not a part of that stretch of coastline that I am not familiar with.”
“Did you explore by yourself?”
He smiled slowly. “Sometimes. But I often went exploring with my older sister, Lydia, if I could persuade her to get her head out of her books.” He smiled at the memory. “And then there was my best friend, Daniel – now the Marquess of Falmouth. We would meet at the beach and whittle swords from stray driftwood, playing elaborate mock fights up and down the length of the beach. The caves in the cliffs were our secret lairs.”
