Chapter Seven

 

Lucy adjusted herself in the high-backed chair in Lord Balfour’s study and attempted to keep herself awake. After having a light breakfast and spending time with Hannah, she had come to the study to wait for his return. She spent the first hour poking around at the numerous tomes on the shelves, finding the subjects of the sciences intriguing, as were the books on history. However, as time passed, she found herself utterly bored, and quite weary. Perhaps she should have rested upstairs and then had Hannah wake her when the Duke arrived.

She sighed and returned to the shelves, hoping to find something interesting that would keep her interest. As she perused the titles once again, she heard the front door close and Lord Balfour’s deep baritone echo through the foyer. She straightened her posture and smiled as he entered the study.

“Lu…” he cleared his throat. “Miss Honeyfield, I am glad to see you up and about. Have you been waiting for me?” When she nodded, he added. “I hope you have not been waiting long; I have just returned.” He walked across the room to stand directly before Lucy, and Lucy found herself looking into the bluest of eyes, in which she searched for some inkling of memory that went beyond two quick kisses and rumors that made her shiver.

He smiled, and much to Lucy’s surprise, he did not seem to take any interest in her tight bodice. She was unsure how this made her feel. She had hoped he would be distracted enough to relax his defenses so she could question him further; however, this new development meant that she would have to change her tactics. How exactly she would do so, she did not know, but she was a bright woman, quite intelligent if she could say so herself, and she would get whatever information out of the man one way or another.

“I only entered moments before you did,” she lied. “I take it your business affairs went well?”

“Very well,” he said as he led her to one of the wing back chairs in front of the fire. Once she sat, he took his seat across from her. “How are you this morning? I imagine it must be difficult for you adjusting to a life you do not remember.”

She nodded. “Yes, it is a bit disconcerting, to say the least.” She wondered how he would reply if she gave him tiny morsels of ideas that had been swimming around in her head. “I believe I may have recalled something, though the details are a bit murky.”

He leaned forward, a pleased look on his face. “By all means, please tell. I may be able to aid you in recalling whatever it is you believe you remember.” Lucy stared at the man for several moments; there was something not quite right with him. Gone were the sneers and the unkind words, replaced by this gentleman with a kind smile and gentle eyes who seemed eager to give her aid.

“It is something about our marriage,” she said carefully. She did not want to let on that this was not truly a memory, but rather a means to glean information. “Did you purchase a cottage for me as a wedding gift?”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I’m afraid not,” he replied, his disappointment clear in his tone. “At one time we did speak of purchasing a summer home, but we had not done so, nor were any promises made to do so.”

Lucy swallowed her disappointment. Surely there was some sort of gift promised her in the event of their marriage; it was the only thing that made sense. “Are you certain? I do not wish to argue with you, but I am positive there were talks of a grand gift once we were married. Or did you promise whatever it was to my father in exchange for my hand?”

He shook his head and her heart sank. “Again, there was no promise made to you or to your father. However, I can tell you that you married me because of love; the same reason I married you.” Lucy stared at him, utterly confused. His answers to her questions made no sense whatsoever, especially when it came to them marrying for love. For she had never loved this man and could not imagine ever giving her heart to him. As it was, she could barely stand to be in the same room with him, though at the current moment, his company was much better than it had been on any other occasion in the past. She could not stop the nagging feeling that he was playacting, using her illness as a way to change the truth about how she became the Duchess of Pendlow and he her husband.

He smiled at her and she realized that he was very good at playacting. His portrayal of the patient, doting husband was worthy of the theater. However, like most actors, he would misstep and make a mistake, and when he did, she would pounce on it with the might of a tiger.

“Would you enjoy accompanying me on a walk around the gardens?” he asked, breaking Lucy from her thoughts.

Lucy considered this for a moment. Fresh air would be nice, and it would give her the opportunity to question him further. “I believe Hannah should accompany us as well,” she said as she rose from her chair. “It would not be proper to have us walking alone without a chaperon.”

His face took on a painful look before his features smoothed over once again. “You are my wife, and I your husband; however, if you prefer someone be with us, by all means, send for Hannah.”

Lucy glanced down at the gold band on her finger. She had meant to remove it; however, something had kept her from doing so. She smiled at Lord Balfour. “No, you are right; I am your wife.” His smile broadened and she wondered at how this pleased her. “Shall we go, then? We have much to discuss.”

***

Although Lucy had been told that Chudleigh Hill was now her home, she found it difficult to see it as such. Somehow, she felt more a guest than a resident, and it was a discomforting feeling. As she walked silently next to the Duke, he gave her a brief overview of their courtship, a tale he wove so greatly, she had to admit, it was almost believable. However, that tiny seed of doubt still sat in the pit of her stomach, and she could not shake the feeling that this was all an act.

When they reached a small iron gate at the end of the footpath, she looked over a wide-open field of rich green that rose on a small hill.

“May we walk to the top of that hill, Your Grace?” she asked.

He took hold of her hand and turned her to him. “We are now married, and though I realize you do not remember our love for each other, it would be an honor if you would address me as Andrew. There is no need for formalities between two people who love each other, even if one does not recall.”

“Very well,” Lucy replied. “Then you may call me Lucy.”

He chuckled and then gave her an apologetic smile before offering her his arm. “Shall we?” he asked as he opened the gate.

She placed her hand on his arm and followed him through the gate. Rogue or not, she had to admit he acted the gentleman quite well. And why should he not? He was a Duke after all. Had he not had years of training on how to comport himself in all areas of his life?

The grass in the field came up to her knees and she felt herself relax under the blue sky and open air.

“Are you pleased your parents are coming to visit?” Andrew asked as they continued their walk up the hill. “I imagine you will be happy to see your father since you have not seen him since before…” He seemed unable to finish his thought and Lucy did not mind.

“I am,” Lucy said with all honesty. She adjusted her hat so as to block the brightness of the sun’s rays.

As they reached the top of the hill, Lucy looked out over the valley below, mesmerized by the beauty it held. There were so many shades of green, it was almost overwhelming. The landscape appeared a patchwork quilt, stone walls and hedgerow fences dividing the various pieces of land into uneven patches with spots of bright yellow rapeseed plants bringing a variety to the already eclectic view. A large cloud blocked the sun’s rays on the opposite side of the valley, creating an undertone of the areas that shone brightly, reminding Lucy of lively music played in a minor key.

“I realize the tale I shared with you of our courtship is foreign to you,” Andrew said quietly as he followed her gaze across the valley. Then he turned her to look at him. “But I must ask. Did any of what I shared with you spark even the vaguest of memory?” The pleading look in his eye made her turn once again to look over the terrain.

“I am sorry,” she said sadly, “but I remember nothing.”

He nodded, and though a sense of spiritedness seemed to fall over him, he did not comment.

“I feared it was the case, but that is fine,” he said. “Doctor Cooke informed us that it could take some time before your memory returned. There is no need to apologize. When the time is right, you will remember. I have faith that you will.” He sighed.

Lucy looked up at him. For whatever reason they had wed, be it truth or lies, her lack of memory of the occasion truly did seem to bother him, and she could do nothing but feel pity for him. For a brief moment, she thought that perhaps he did truly love her. However, as she tried to work it all out in her mind, her head began to ache; it was simply too much for her to think about at the moment.

“What if it does not?” Lucy asked.

“Then I will remain your husband,” he replied without hesitation. “I will do what I can to provide for you, whether you remember or not. I will remain by your side.”

Though his words were kind and soothing, Lucy found she could not summon even the slightest fondest for him, and for the first time since waking, she felt fearful. She was married to a man she did not love and would be forced to spend the rest of her life with him.

At this time, however, there was nothing to do but be patient. She shoved the fear down into a small cupboard in the back of her mind where she could deal with it later. She was not the kind of woman to allow anything to get in the way of anything, and that included this tiny mishap in her life. Granted it was more than a tiny mishap, but if she viewed it as such, perhaps it would be easier to defeat.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Then she gazed over the valley once more. “It is beautiful.”

“Many times, I came out here thinking of you,” he said, his voice distant, as if recalling a memory. “Even before we were wed.”

Lucy made no comment, for she had none to make. In the back of her mind, she knew this was all a show, that this man had never been capable of love before, so why did he insist on acting as if her feelings were of the utmost importance? It all made little sense to her, but she had already resigned herself to doing what she could to bring back those missing months. However, given time, perhaps she would learn the truth.

She did not know for how long they stood there staring over the beauty of the valley before them, but when the clouds rolled in and drops of rain began to fall, Andrew said, “Perhaps we should return to the house before the rain becomes a downpour and we become drenched.”

She nodded and walked with him down the hill toward Chudleigh Hill. Andrew Balfour was proving to be a much-changed man, but was he truly changed?