Page 12 of A Duke to Restore her Memory
Christina laughed, charmed by the vision of him as a small boy, playing swordfights with his friend on the sand. “It sounds like you had a good childhood.”
“I did,” he said, smiling broadly at her. “I did not want for anything. My parents were wonderful. The whole coast and cliffs and beyond were my playground. It was really idyllic.” He took a deep breath. “But my father also drummed into me that I was going to inherit the duchy one day, and I must be responsible. He would take me to the mines and talk to the workers. He was conscious that I needed to develop a sense of duty towards our tenants and workers and that it is a sacred bond.”
Christina’s eyes flickered. “You own many mines in the area, then? I remember you saying that you own the abandoned mine I fell into.”
He nodded. “I do. The mines are scattered along the coastline. We mine for copper, and when the mine is exhausted, it is abandoned. That is just the way it works.”
He frowned. “That is why I feel so responsible for you, Georgina,” he continued. “That mine should have been secured safely – there should have been no way you could have fallen into it.” He hesitated, his frown deepening. “Someone did not do their job properly, and that responsibility falls on me. People are bound to start saying that I do not safely secure my mines after they are abandoned … which, in turn, affects my business reputation.”
“So, you did not rescue me purely out of concern for me, then,” she teased. “It was about your reputation, as well.”
He laughed ruefully. “Of course, I am concerned for you!” His eyes flickered over her again, filled with warmth. “How could I not be concerned about the well-being and welfare of such a beautiful young woman?”
Christina felt a spark glimmer between them, catching fire. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart started to pound again. The air was filled with such thick tension that she almost felt she could reach out and touch it.
“Am I beautiful?” she murmured, her heart skipping a beat. “I … I hardly know.” She exhaled slowly. “But I am glad that you believe I am.”
Their eyes met and held for a moment. She felt the sharp tug between them as if a cord had been yanked. There was silence.
“Would you like to explore that section of the coast with me tomorrow?” he asked quietly. “It might jog your memory. It certainly could not hurt … and it would be good for you to leave the house for the morning and go on an excursion.”
“I would like that very much,” she said breathlessly. “Thank you.”
“Very good,” he said, inclining his head. “Make sure you are ready by ten …”
His voice faded away as the sound of feminine voices, loud and shrill, reached them. He stiffened, peering into the room beyond.
Christina’s heart skipped another beat, trying to mask her fright, as two ladies emerged onto the balcony, gaping at them and looking as shocked to see them as she felt.
There was an awkward silence. One of the ladies was petite and dark-haired, with deep brown eyes. With a start, Christina realized she looked very much like the duke. The other lady was taller and willowier, with auburn hair and quite startling blue eyes. She was very beautiful.
“Lydia.” The duke collected himself, shaking his head and staring at the ladies. “I did not hear the carriage pull up!” He turned to the tall, auburn-haired lady, inclining his head. “Lady Frances. Welcome to Newquay.”
The lady curtseyed. “Your Grace.”
There was another awkward silence. The dark-haired lady looked at Christina pointedly, her eyes raking over her from head to toe. The assessment was cold and a bit rude. Christina felt herself redden.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” said the duke with a short laugh. “Please forgive me.” He turned to Christina. “This is my sister, Lady Lydia Cavendish, and her friend, Lady Frances Lewis. They have journeyed all the way from London. I did not realize you were arriving today, Lydia.”
His sister smiled brightly. “We were going to break the journey at an inn but then decided to push on.” She turned back to Christina. “And you are?”
“This is Georgina,” said the duke, his cheeks colouring. “She … she is staying with us while she recuperates from a fall in one of my abandoned mines.” He smiled. “She lost her memory, you see, and cannot even recall her own name …”
Lydia arched her eyebrows. “How do you know your name is Georgina, then?”
“I do not,” said Christina, her colour deepening. “That is just the name that the physician gave me to call me something.”
A sudden, tense silence ensued, whereupon Lydia stared at her quite openly, with naked curiosity but not much warmth. The taller lady – her friend, Lady Frances – smiled at her, though.
“How extraordinary,” said Lady Frances. “You truly cannot remember anything about your life at all?”
“Nothing,” replied Christina, feeling mortified. “I feel utterly lost. I have no idea of who I am.”
“We should go inside, ladies,” said the duke, looking embarrassed. “You must be tired after the long trip. I will send for tea.” He turned to Christina, his eyes flickering over, looking rather regretful. “You are welcome to join us if you like …”
“Oh, no,” said Christina quickly. “I am tired and need to rest anyway. But thank you.”
The ladies inclined their heads to her before walking inside. The duke followed them. Christina was left standing there alone.
