Page 53 of A Duke to Restore her Memory
He was suddenly filled with a blinding rage. Powell was the straw that was breaking the camel’s back. His long day, confronting Hester and Barstow and then convincing his other investors not to desert him in his hour of need, rose up to choke him.
He had never experienced such betrayal before, such treachery … and Powell was a dirty Judas, too, as well as an ogre.
He wasn’t good enough for her. No one would ever be good enough for her. She was a jewel among women. He had always known it – almost from the very first moment he had seen her lying at the bottom of that pit, unconscious, with a huge gash on her forehead.
He lunged, his fist connecting with Powell’s jaw. There was a sharp crack, and the man fell to the ground, toppling like a felled tree. There was a sudden, deafening silence.
They looked down at the inert figure of the man. Daniel rushed forward, a grim look on his face. “I will deal with Powell,” he said in a quiet voice. “I will take him to the carriage and send him on his way.” He hesitated, looking from one to the other. “I think the two of you need to talk.”
***
Sebastian turned to Christina. Now that the threat from Powell was gone – at least for the time being – he felt exhausted again. He ran a weary hand over his face, not knowing what to say to her.
He stared at her. She looked so beautiful and forlorn standing there, the rain falling upon her, turning her golden hair to flaxen ringlets.
“I never knew,” she whispered, her eyes huge and filled with sincerity. “I really did run away and hit my head that day … I really did lose my memory …”
“I know,” he whispered, his heart lurching, reaching out to take her hand. He gazed deeply into her eyes. “What do you want to do now … My Lady?”
His heart twisted again as he waited for her reply. He could barely breathe.
“I … I suppose I should go home,” she said tentatively, gazing at him. “It is where I belong … and I need to talk to my parents.” She looked wistful. “I realize now that I cannot run away. That I need to face this.”
There was a small pause, filled with longing, so deep that it felt like a ravine. Sebastian didn’t know how to bridge it.
“Of course,” he said quietly. “You need to go home. I will take you there.”
He hesitated, his heart breaking in two again. Was he losing her? Had he already lost her?
Chapter 27
“Oh, I am so very glad to see you again, My Lady,” breathed Harriet, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “I thought that perhaps you had fallen into the sea and met your death. I waited and waited for you to send me a letter telling me that you had reached Edinburgh safely, but it never came.”
Christina reached out, taking her maid’s hand within her own and squeezing it tightly. Her heart was filled to overflowing to see Harriet again.
As soon as she had seen her maid, the memory of her smiling face had come rushing back to her, as fresh as a daisy, and with it, the realization of how much she loved the girl and the part Harriet had played in aiding her flight on that momentous day.
It seemed so long ago now. And conversely, it seemed like no time had passed at all.
Her heart twisted, thinking about the reunion with her parents, their utter shock when they had seen her standing on the doorstep, looking bedraggled after standing in the rain for so long.
Her mother had almost fainted. Her father had choked back tears, begging for her forgiveness, saying he had been a shell of a man since she had vanished, seemingly without a trace.
They had both expressed, in the strongest way, their regret about trying to force her into marriage with Lord Powell and assured her they would never arrange a marriage against her will again. It had been a comforting and loving reunion.
And now, she was ensconced in her old chambers at Draycott Manor, with Harriet by her side, as if she had never been away at all.
She blinked, taking in the familiar furniture, the wallpaper, the paintings that hung on the walls – the little details of her former life that hadn’t changed at all in her absence. It was like reentering a dream.
A feeling of unreality stole over her. Had she really been living at Newquay Hall for the past six weeks? Had it ever really been her home? Or had she hit her head and imagined the whole episode entirely?
“I am so sorry, Harriet,” she whispered in a quivering voice, squeezing her maid’s hand again. “The plan went so terribly wrong.” She sighed heavily. “I only stopped to take a short rest that day, to walk along the top of the cliffs after a long ride, and then I fell into an abandoned mine shaft and lost the memory of who I was entirely.”
Harriet gasped. “I cannot believe it! You truly could not remember who you were, your life at Draycott Manor, or even why you had been out riding that day?”
Christina shook her head. “I could not remember anything,” she confessed, tears filling her eyes, vividly remembering the pain and shock of that day as if it had only just occurred. She paused, biting her lip. “The Duke of Newquay was so very kind to me. He helped me enormously … calling for a physician … and then, when it became obvious that I had no idea who I was or where I lived, he offered to look after me in his manor home.”
Abruptly, she stopped talking, staring at Harriet, trying not to burst into noisy tears. All she wanted to do was weep now.
