Page 14 of A Duke to Restore her Memory
He shook his head slowly. “I am afraid not,” he replied, gazing at her with a look of sympathy. “I wrote letters to all the neighbouring estates, and Mrs Sollock has asked around as well. No one knows who you are, Georgina.”
Christina felt a pang of sorrow and pain. She really was nobody. She didn’t belong to any of the families or places around here. She frowned, her mind starting to spin in confusion again. But how could that be? How could no one know who she was?
Hesitantly, she touched the wound on her forehead. It was healing well. Dr Watson had told her she would have quite a scar, but otherwise, it was fine. The same could not be said for the interior of her head, however.
It was still a barren landscape devoid of the details of her life and who she was. She frowned. No, that wasn’t true – all those details were still in there. They must be. She just couldn’t access them anymore. They were completely out of reach.
She shivered in the breeze. She really was tabula rasa – a blank slate.
She gazed down at the gown she was wearing. It was a plain grey gown, in the style of a nun, with no adornment.
Mrs Sollock had given it to her, along with two other similar gowns, to replace the ripped, dirty gown she had been wearing the day of the accident. The gown told the world that she was someone of little importance.
Her frown deepened. She had gone through the bag found on the cliff along with the horse she had apparently brought with her that day.
It contained a faded dress, some undergarments, a shawl, a battered leather purse containing a few coins, and the apple the duke had told her about. The apple was large, shiny, and glossy. A snack for a long journey?
She had stared hard at it all, praying it would evoke something in her mind, but there was nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition.
“I must have been on a journey,” she said suddenly, turning to the duke, her heart thumping hard. “Why else would no one in this area know who I am?”
He nodded slowly. “That is what I have been thinking, as well,” he said hesitantly. “But England, although an island, is large enough that it will take quite a while to comb the length of it to find out where you are from, Georgina.”
She felt a pang of pain. “Yes. I know.”
She turned away so he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. Did she have a family? A mother, father, and siblings? Did she have friends … and maybe a sweetheart?
She gazed down at her hand. There was no ring on her wedding finger. She knew she wasn’t married, at least. There was no husband in some house somewhere wondering where on earth she was.
Did I run away? Was my life intolerable? Or was I merely on a journey to visit someone?
She strained her mind, trying to remember, but there was no use. She shuddered, passing a weary hand across her forehead.
“Come on,” said the duke in a gentle voice. “Let us go and visit some of my mines. I will introduce you to the workers. And then we will take a long walk on the beach.” He hesitated. “Try not to get discouraged, Georgina. It will not be like this forever.”
Christina nodded, but she didn’t know whether she believed him. Perhaps she was destined to be stuck in this limbo forever. Perhaps she would never remember who she was … and she would remain Georgina for life.
***
They walked along the beach, gazing into the distance, the soft hiss of the waves against the shore lapping against their feet.
Christina couldn’t help smiling to herself. The visit to the mines had been so interesting and informative. She had chatted with some of the miners, who were friendly towards her.
She had felt the duke’s eyes upon her the whole time, gazing at her approvingly. The only disappointment was the fact that none of the workers had any idea who she was, either. They had never seen her before in their lives.
Suddenly, she stopped, gasping for breath. The duke rushed to her side.
“Georgina, what is it?” he demanded. “Are you quite well?”
“I just remembered something,” she stammered. “A grand ball … dancers twirling around a ballroom … the sound of laughter and chatter …”
“Anything else?” he asked, staring at her. “Is that all?”
Christina slumped. “That is all.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “What does it mean?”
The duke shrugged. “It means you were either attending that ball or in service at it,” he replied. “You truly cannot remember any other details? You cannot remember if you were dancing or perhaps standing on the edge of the ballroom as if you were a servant observing it?”
She shook her head mournfully. “No. It is just flashes of memory. That is all.” Suddenly she brightened, turning to him. “You said that I was riding that horse you found? That the horse is mine?”
