Page 23 of A Duke to Restore her Memory
“I am well aware of Lady Frances’s obvious attributes,” he said in a tart voice. “I am also well aware that she is your closest friend, and you are a bit biased, Lydia.” He hesitated. “To tell the truth, I would feel rather awkward courting her. I have always seen her as a younger sister, like you … probably because you have always been as thick as thieves with one another.”
“Frances is five years younger than me,” said Lydia, raising her eyebrows. “She is still young enough to produce the heir the duchy desperately needs, Sebastian. And you are thirty now. It is time that you took that duty seriously. Do you want to be an old man before you start a family?”
“Of course not,” retorted Sebastian, feeling mortified. “I just have not met a lady who has inspired me to propose to her yet. That is all.”
“Frances is a prime candidate for the position of duchess,” said Lydia, her jaw setting in a stubborn line. “You should try to forget that she is my closest friend and simply focus on her attributes. And you should do it sooner rather than later, Sebastian. Time is ticking. There is no time to lose.”
“I am hardly at death’s door,” snapped Sebastian, a bit stung by his sister’s vehemence and dogged persistence on the subject. “I am a gentleman in the prime of my life. There is still time to find a lady who pleases me in all aspects and has the necessary attributes, Lydia. It does not have to be your closest friend.”
He stood up. “Is that all? I think I will try to find Daniel and Lady Frances in the gardens … if that is acceptable with you, of course.” He couldn’t keep the slight thread of sarcasm out of his voice. “Sister?”
“Oh, there is no need to be a fool about it all, Sebastian,” said Lydia, rolling her eyes. “I have said my piece and need say no more for the moment. Just promise me that you will contemplate what I said. You need to focus on all your duties and not be distracted. That is all.”
Sebastian nodded curtly, sweeping out of the room. His sister really did overstep her position with him. But she spoke the truth – a truth he might not like to hear at the moment, but which was necessary he did hear.
His heart somersaulted in his chest. He must try to stay away from Georgina, and he should definitely stop confiding in her about his business problems. It wasn’t appropriate at all. She wasn’t appropriate at all. No matter what his feelings were towards her, that fact was obvious.
A strange sadness entered his heart. A beautiful, mysterious young woman who had no idea who she was and couldn’t remember a single detail about her life was not a candidate to become a duchess. And that really was the end of that.
Chapter 12
“This is my favourite view over the district,” declared Lady Frances, her green eyes shining like jewels, as she gazed over the hill, sitting astride the horse. She turned to Christina. “It is wonderful country here. I always enjoy the break from London.”
Christina breathed the pure, fresh air, feeling it lifting the curls falling down her neck. She patted the horse’s neck, murmuring to it reassuringly.
It was the sleek black horse that she apparently owned, of course. When Lady Frances had surprised her by suggesting this ride together over the hills surrounding Newquay Hall, she had known that she could not consider any other horse.
The only reason she knew that she could ride was the presence of the black beast in the stables, after all.
She knew she had made the right choice as soon as they headed out over the fields beyond the house, cantering briskly. Oddly, the black horse seemed like an extension of her own body. As soon as she tightened the muscles of her legs or drew the reins in a certain way, the horse responded. Riding the horse was like a dream.
I wish I knew the horse’s name. I wish I could remember riding it and our relationship. But this is the next best thing.
“Do you want to get down and walk for a bit?” asked Lady Frances, smiling at her. “It might be nice to let the horses rest and drink from the stream.”
Christina nodded. “That would be nice.”
When the horses were drinking from the stream, and they were sitting side by side on a rock overlooking the sea, Christina turned, studying the lady covertly. She still couldn’t quite believe that Lady Frances had invited her to ride with her. Apparently, Lady Lydia was out for the day, visiting a friend near the village and Frances hadn’t wanted to accompany her.
Christina knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this would never have happened if Lydia were around. That lady still distrusted and disliked her as much as ever. There was simply no way she would have gone riding with her.
Her heart contorted. Apparently, the duke was at home today, but she hadn’t seen him at all, and Lady Frances hadn’t mentioned him.
In the two weeks since their visit to the nearby village, he had been avoiding her, keeping his distance. But strangely, Lady Frances had been approaching her instead, with overtures of friendship completely at odds with the attitude of her hosts.
When, oh when, will I finally get my memory back? When will I be able to leave Newquay Hall and begin my real life again?
“How are you?” asked Frances, turning to her and looking at her intently. “Have you any indication of your memory returning yet?”
Christina shook her head sorrowfully. “No. Not at all.” Her jaw tightened. “It is so frustrating! I sometimes feel as if it is at the edge of my mind, but it just will not emerge.”
“It will,” said Frances in a kind voice. “It will happen when it is time.” She hesitated. “I wonder what your place is in this world. It must be rather liberating to have no place and not be anchored to a position or station in life, though. Sometimes, I feel like I would like to escape mine.”
“Why?” asked Christina, surprised as she gazed at the lady. It was the last thing she had expected her to say. Lady Frances seemed to have it all – position, beauty, charm, and kindness. “Why do you wish to escape your life?”
Frances sighed. “Oh, I do not know! I sometimes feel constrained. That is all.” She reached down, picking a daisy on the edge of the stream and twirling it around in her hand. “Lydia is always hinting that I should encourage the duke and try to become the next Duchess of Newquay. But I have no stomach for it. The duke has always been like a brother to me … but I just cannot seem to get Lydia to acknowledge that.”
Christina reddened, not knowing how to respond at all. It was obvious to her now, even if Frances hadn’t spoken about it, that Lady Lydia was fierce in her intention to play matchmaker with her brother and best friend.
