Chapter Four

 

Andrew Balfour's heart raced and broke at the same time. As Lucy screamed, he realized that something was horribly wrong with his wife. Her mother went quickly to her side to calm her, but Lucy was having none of it. Instead, she began to argue.

“Mother, I do not understand why you feel you must torment me so. Must I get on my knees and beg your forgiveness?”

Although Andrew longed to say something to reassure her, he kept quiet. He did not wish to upset her further.

“He is your husband,” Lady Honeyfield insisted. “And you may want to return to your bed and cover yourself.”

Lucy looked down and let out another shriek. She was in nothing more than a thin shift, and she hurried back to her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.

“You, Andrew Balfour, are a rouge!” she shouted. “How dare you look at me in such a state of undress! First you steal a kiss, and now you dare steal a peek at my innocence?” Her anger was so strong, her voice shook as she screamed at him.

Doctor Cooke stood absently rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Your Grace,” he said after much deliberation, addressing Lucy directly.

“It is Miss Honeyfield,” she spat.

“Yes, of course,” the doctor corrected himself. “Miss Honeyfield, allow me to speak to your mother and His Grace in private.” He turned and nodded at Andrew and Lady Honeyfield, who followed him out into the hallway. Andrew stole a peek back at Lucy before the door closed. Had she gone insane? He cared not the cost of having her looked after, for he would find the finest doctors in all of England to make her well again.

“May we retreat to the library?” Dr. Cooke asked.

“Of course,” Andrew replied. “Follow me.” He led them down the hallway and into the library. Hannah, one of the maids, came to the door immediately. “Bring us tea, please, Hannah.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Hannah replied with a quick curtsy before leaving Andrew with his guests.

Lady Honeyfield sat on the edge of the sofa, and once she was seated, Andrew took a seat in a high-back chair and offered the doctor a matching chair opposite. The worry Andrew felt for Lucy was so great that his stomach hurt. However, his anger grew as the doctor stood staring out the window and onto the gardens. If the man wished to stroll through them at a later time, he was more than welcomed to do so; however, for now, Andrew needed answers.

“What is wrong with my wife?” Andrew demanded. “Has she gone mad?”

Doctor Cooke turned around. “No, far from it,” he replied, finally taking his seat. “Have you ever heard of amnesia? It refers to the loss of one’s memories and is typically brought on by a sharp blow to the head.”

Andrew nodded, as did Lady Honeyfield. “I have heard stories about people suffering from such maladies,” Andrew replied, “but I thought it was merely legend, or excuses drunkards use to allow themselves unruly behavior.”

“I am afraid not,” Doctor Cooke said. “At this point, I believe your wife is suffering from amnesia, but I would like to return to her room and ask her a few more questions.” When Lady Honeyfield went to stand, he added, “Alone, if you please.”

Lady Honeyfield sighed. “Or course, Doctor. Shall we wait here then?”

“I believe that is best,” the man replied. “I will return shortly after I have finished my examination.” He rose from his chair and left the room.

Hannah came in immediately after with a large silver tray which held a silver tea set. “Would you like me to pour,” she asked in a quiet voice.

“No, I will pour, but thank you, Hannah,” Andrew replied.

“I cannot believe she is finally awake,” Lady Honeyfield said as she took the teacup Andrew offered her. “I am sure whatever this is, it is only temporary. You should smile; your wife is awake.”

Andrew sighed heavily. “You are right,” he said, but he could not stop the uneasiness that coursed through him. In his heart, he rejoiced that, after all this time, she had finally awoken. However, as to her current plight, how long would it last?

And most importantly, did she still care for him?

***

Andrew glanced at the clock on the mantle. It had been nearly an hour since Doctor Cooke had gone to exam Lucy, and Andrew found himself worrying. What was taking so long? Did the doctor know some trick to bring back his wife’s memories?

The door opened and Doctor Cooke entered, moving straight to the chair he had vacated earlier.

“Doctor, is my Lucy…?” Lady Honeyfield asked in a trembling voice.

Doctor Cooke placed his hands on his knees. “Let me share what I now know as fact,” he said. Andrew’s heart thudded in his chest. “It is without a doubt amnesia with which the Duchess suffers.”

Lady Honeyfield began to sob and Andrew reached into his coat pocket and produced a handkerchief, which he readily proffered to her. She thanked him and dabbed at her eyes as the doctor continued with his diagnosis.

“Though it was a subject that I did come across in my studies at University, I must admit that little is known concerning a prognosis.”

Andrew’s heart sank. Was there no hope? “How much does she remember?” he asked. The thought of his wife not recalling her life scared him.

“From what I have deduced, the Duchess remembers everything up until the engagement party of her friend. When interviewed, she believed the year to be eighteen hundred and nine and that it is currently the month of December first or thereabouts.”

“Yes, that was when the engagement party took place,” Lady Honeyfield muttered.

Andrew felt his heart sink as he recalled that evening. It was the next day when he went to her house, having already received her father’s permission to court her. From there, it had taken a year to win her heart. “I do not understand,” Andrew said. “There must be some sort of medicine that you can give her to make her remember.”

Doctor Cooke shook his head. “I’m afraid not,” he replied sadly. “Unfortunately, there is no remedy, although I will to write to a specialist in London when I return home this evening to see what advice he can give me. If anyone has any insight or new information in this area, he will. For the time being, you must be careful. Her Grace is quite frightened and must not be traumatized any more than she already is. She is still having trouble accepting what I have told her.”

“Will her memory return?” Andrew asked, though dreading the reply he would receive. “That is, when will she remember the current times? And…our marriage?”

The doctor gave a deep sigh. “I will not lie to you, Your Grace, nor you, Lady Honeyfield. It might take a week, a month, a year, or it may never happen. There is no promise it will ever return.”

Lady Honeyfield began to sob even harder as Andrew attempted to understand the situation.

“Surely there is something we can do to help her? Would telling her stories help? We were wed only two months ago.”

The doctor set the cup of tea he had been sipping on the table as he nodded his head. “At this point, she refuses to believe she is married to you. And though it pains you, I would advise keeping your distance from her until she is ready to begin speaking with you about what she does not remember. Forcing her into a conversation or even a lifestyle for which she is not ready could cause more damage than good.”

Andrew groaned, his heart sinking even further. The love of his life was awake, but she despised him. Even worse, he had to stay away from her. How could he do that when he only wished to hold her in his arms again?

“Does she have a close friend?” Doctor Cooke asked. “This Charlotte of whom she spoke, is there a chance she might be able to come and visit?”

“I am afraid Charlotte has moved to Kent with her husband,” Lady Honeyfield said. “However, I can send word and ask if she is able to come and visit.”

“Is there anyone else?”

Hannah entered the room with a tray and Andrew smiled. “There is Hannah. She became lady’s maid to Lucy, although they had not spent an exorbitant amount of time together since the position is quite new to her. However, Lucy enjoyed talking with her when she came to visit, before we married, and the two got along quite well despite their differences in class.”

Hannah blushed profusely. “Yes, Your Grace,” she said in a quiet voice. “The Duchess and I did speak at times. And I enjoyed being her lady’s maid for that short time.”

The doctor eyed Hannah as he rose from his chair. “Well, it is not the most appropriate of situations, but allow her to befriend Her Grace. Warn her, however, of what I have warned you. That is, answer questions she may have, but carry on as normal, as if she were indeed back in December of nineteen hundred and nine. Allow her to explore the property without comment, to ask whatever questions that come to mind, and perhaps with a bit of a luck, her memory will return. As soon as I return to my office, I will compose a letter to London. Whether or not I receive an immediate answer is another matter, but I will return soon to check on her progress regardless.”

Johnathan escorted the doctor to the front door, and Doctor Cooke turned and added, “My Grace, I wish to speak to you in private.”

Andrew nodded. “Of course,” he replied. “By all means, please speak freely.”

“I did not want to upset the Lady Honeyfield any further, but there is something you should know. There is a high chance that Her Grace will not regain her memory at all.”

Andrew nodded again. “Thank you for informing me,” he said, though he wished the man had not.

Once the carriage carrying the doctor down the long drive had disappeared from sight, Andrew closed his eyes and took a deep breath. For the past two months, he had prayed that Lucy would wake up once again. Now that she had, he found that his heart ached even more, for she had returned to him, only not as herself but as a previous version of herself. However, when he opened his eyes, he looked up at the clear sky and smiled when he saw the shining sun, as bright as Lucy’s smile. She had said once that the sun was a reminder of their love.

Yes, their love was strong, and nothing, not even a lapse in memory, would cause her to forget that for long.