Two

Felicia opened her eyes and found herself staring into the unfamiliar face of a severe-looking gentleman who was bending over her. A deep frown drew his thick eyebrows together, making him look older than his twenty-eight years. She let out a frightened gasp and instinctively pulled the bedclothes up around her chin.

“Who…who…are you?” she asked warily.

The man straightened up, and his concerned expression vanished. He was pleased to see that Felicia’s movements in bed were quite normal and not painful, for he had been uncertain whether or not she had sustained any fracture to her ribs.

“There, there,” he soothed. “I am a doctor. You have been in an accident and have suffered a mild concussion.” He patted her hand reassuringly, then continued as he saw her expression of dismay. “Don’t worry, miss. Don’t worry, for we will soon have you on your feet.”

Felicia’s feeling of dismay turned to bewilderment when she raised her hand to her head and her fingers encountered a bandage.

“Accident?” she queried feebly. “I do not seem to remember.” She stared intently at the doctor’s face for some sign of comfort. She struggled to think about what had happened, but her mind remained stubbornly blank, and she could not prevent the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

“There is no need to be frightened, my dear,” the doctor said softly. “You are quite safe now.”

“But you do not seem to understand,” Felicia broke in, her voice trembling. “I cannot remember who I am.” She shook her head as though to clear it and winced as a sharp pain stabbed behind her eye. She saw a gleam of interest light the doctor’s face. Not understanding, she felt a panic deep within her. “What am I going to do?” she cried out.

Oblivious to her appeal, the doctor scrutinized her carefully. “That is very interesting,” he murmured, “very interesting. You are fortunate, young lady, that I am here to tend you.” He paused, as though conscious of his own importance. “Dr. Ross is my name. Dr. Paul Ross.” He rocked slowly back and forth from his heels to his toes, his fingers tucked into the lapels of his ill-fitting old-fashioned jacket.

Felicia struggled to control her sobs. The doctor’s voice was reassuring. “But…but…I do not understand what has happened to me,” she whispered.

“Nothing that rest and a little treatment won’t cure,” Dr. Ross responded in kindly tones. “The stagecoach you were in crashed, and you were thrown about a bit. Must have hit your head on something sharp, for you have a nasty cut over your eye.”

Felicia shook her head slowly and said with a slight shrug, “I do not recall anything. Who…who am I?”

“That is an easy one,” Dr. Ross smiled. “See here, I found this letter in your reticule. It is a letter of introduction to a Mrs. Barton, in Manchester.” He paused to see if there was any response to the name, then continued when Felicia shook her head. “And it seems that you are Felicia Richards, on your way to being governess to Mrs. Barton’s two children.”

“How strange that sounds,” Felicia said with misgiving. “It means absolutely nothing to me. Oh! Dr. Ross, whatever am I going to do? I do not even know where I am.”

Dr. Ross looked down at his patient and was impressed with the intelligence he saw in her face. The clear-cut features were a refreshing change from the aging, cantankerous patients he normally had to deal with. There was a freshness and innocence about her that he liked, and he was not immune to her blond loveliness.

He sat down on an uncomfortable, straight-backed chair that stood by the side of the bed. The sparsely furnished room was typical of a servant’s room.

Felicia eyed him nervously, not liking the lengthy silence that had developed. “Please, please tell me what happened,” she begged. “And where am I? There must be someone I should thank for helping me.”

“My dear young lady,” Dr. Ross said thoughtfully. “I will not deny that you are in a peculiar position.” He held up his hand as Felicia started to say something. “No, wait a while for me to explain matters. You are at Alverston, Lord Umber’s country seat.”

“Lord Umber?” Felicia queried.

“To be more precise, the Earl of Alverston and Umber.” He paused, allowing Felicia time to absorb this information, but seeing the puzzled expression still on her face he added, “Umber is the senior peerage. Be that as it may, he came upon the scene of the accident moments after it had happened and was responsible for pulling you and your traveling companion to safety.” Dr. Ross smiled briefly to himself. He could well understand Lord Umber’s impulsive offer to help Felicia, for it was well known that he could never resist a pretty face.

“I was traveling with someone?” Felicia asked hopefully.

“No, no, just sharing the inside of the coach. It was a mistake Lord Umber made, but the other lady soon put him to rights.”

An unhappy sigh escaped Felicia as she realized there would be no help from that quarter.

“As you were unconscious,” Dr. Ross continued, “Lord Umber decided to bring you here, knowing I was in residence and could possibly be of assistance.” He looked away, as though in modesty at this seeming self-praise.

“You must think me incredibly stupid,” Felicia said, “but I must confess that I cannot recall ever having heard your name before.”

“As you cannot recall your own, I feel no insult about your lack of recognition of mine.” Dr. Ross laughed and Felicia smiled hesitantly at the joke. “Anyway, your thanks should go to Lord Umber for rescuing you, and to his mother, the dowager, for insisting that you stay until you have recovered sufficiently to resume your journey.”

“But…but how long will it take for me to remember?” Felicia asked, determined to know the worst.

“It may take a few days or a few months. You must also face up the fact that it is entirely possible you will never regain your memory.”

Felicia looked at Dr. Ross in horror. “Never! I could not bear it!” Her frail body shook with her effort to control herself. “Never to know who I really am! Oh! Please say that it cannot be so!”

Realizing that he had been too harsh, Dr. Ross attempted to calm her. “There, there. I only mentioned that as a possibility. But I have great faith in my ability to cure you.” He smiled down at her with such cheerfulness that her fears vanished.

“What is this cure you speak of?” she inquired.

Dr. Ross hesitated. He always found it difficult to explain the method of treatment he had studied under Anton Mesmer. “It is somewhat of an experiment, really. You see, your amnesia could be caused by several factors, and I first have to ascertain whether they are emotional or organic. To do this, I will put you into a trance and ask you some questions.”

“A trance?” Felicia queried, her natural intelligence making her take an interest despite her unhappiness. “What is a trance?”

“It is a sleeplike state during which you will appear to be unconscious, but you will be able to answer my questions. If the primary reasons for your amnesia are organic, you will be cured in a very short time. However…should they be emotional…I cannot even hazard a guess…” He paused to suppress the excitement he felt. “…because you will be the first patient I have treated for such amnesia.” There, it was out—and he waited for Felicia to complain.

Exhilaration surged through him as he realized that she was not protesting. “But I cannot stay here,” she pointed out. “I cannot impose on the hospitality of strangers.”

“You must not regard it so,” Dr. Ross said emphatically. “In fact, you could be of great assistance to me. The dowager is in sore need of a companion, and I will suggest to her that you would suit admirably.” There was simply no way he was going to let this opportunity out of his grasp. Indeed, his motives were not entirely selfish. The dowager was in need of distraction, since most of her illnesses were imagined, brought on by ennui. If, Dr. Ross reasoned to himself, she had someone else to think about, it was quite conceivable the lady’s health would improve.

“You are too kind, sir,” Felicia said gravely. “But I do not think I can accept such charity. You do not know anything about me and, for all you know, the dowager and I would not suit.”

“Nonsense, my girl. Absolute nonsense. ’Tis not charity I am proposing, but a good position that will pay well. Now, excuse me while I go and make the arrangements.” He rose and was out of the room before Felicia could object further. However, his enthusiasm was infectious, and almost against her will Felicia felt a sense of optimism. There was no denying it would be quite unthinkable for her to go off to this Mrs. Barton in Manchester knowing nothing about herself but that her name was Felicia Richards. She resolved to write to Mrs. Barton and explain the predicament she found herself in. Maybe this information would persuade Mrs. Barton to keep the position open until she recovered. Having decided on this plan of action, she felt much better and even managed to smile at the consternation her letter would probably cause Mrs. Barton, whoever she was.

*

As he hurriedly descended the stairs, Dr. Ross was so elated at the opportunity to test his animal magnetism theories he didn’t notice Lord Umber hovering on the upper landing. For his part, Lord Umber’s attention was on the forthcoming encounter with the delectable morsel ensconced in the servants’ quarters. He knocked lightly on the door and, after Felicia answered “Come in, please,” he entered the shabby room.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Felicia, who looked frail and winsome with the white bandage bound tightly around her blond head. She looked nothing like the governess she was pretending to be. The little minx.

“You must be Lord Umber,” she said in a musical and slightly breathless voice, momentarily overawed by the magnificence of the handsome young man standing so tall and dark in the doorway. His fitted breeches seemed to be molded to his strong thighs, and his jacket, of pale blue superfine, was fitted to his gracefully muscular torso with all the skill his Saville Row tailor could command. With his classic features and dark curling hair, he was the most handsome man Felicia had ever seen. Except, she reminded herself, the only other man I can remember seeing is Dr. Ross. Felicia looked at him steadily. “You are correct in your presumption, Miss Richards,” he drawled languidly, an expression of boredom in his eyes. “Although I sometimes use another title.” He thought an explanation due, in case she had heard him introduce himself earlier as Sir Ian Gordon.

“I…I…do not know, m’lord. Has not Dr. Ross told you I have lost my memory?”

Lord Umber eyed her appreciatively. The bandage around her golden hair did not detract in the least from her beauty. He pulled himself together hastily as he realized Felicia was waiting for an answer. “No, I have not seen him since he visited with you, but you must not let the fact that you have lost your memory temporarily distress you.” What a charming charade. An artful baggage, pretending to have lost her memory!

Felicia looked at him gratefully. His easy assurances bolstered her sagging spirits. “Your belief in Dr. Ross’s abilities gives me great confidence,” she replied. “But I cannot feel happy about presuming on your hospitality.”

He liked her pretense at independence but quickly sought to bring her to the point. “Well, as to that, Miss Richards, I think I can set your mind to rest.”

“Sir!” she gasped indignantly, as he moved over to the bed and took her hand. “Please, sir!” She tried to draw her hand away without seeming too rude.

“Don’t be frightened,” he said lightly. “I am not going to harm you.” As though she were a child, he gently stroked her hand, which she had been unable to retrieve. “I have given some thought to your future, and methinks you will enjoy my solution.” He was surprised to see a faint blush tinge her cheeks.

Felicia was thoroughly alarmed by now. Lord Umber no longer looked languid, but like a panther ready to pounce. The bored look in his eyes had been replaced by an avid gaze.

Lord Umber took her silence as feigned modesty. Egad, he thought, I believe she wants to be wooed. He chuckled to himself at the thought of the sport ahead. Her air of innocence only heightened his desire. She really was an original, like a delicate rosebud ready to burst into full bloom. Her lips had a provocative pout that barely concealed the obstinate set to her mouth that he had noted earlier. By God she was a tempting little thing!

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “My suggestion is quite simple, really. I want you to live under my protection.”

Felicia relaxed slightly, totally misunderstanding the suggestion. She silently chided herself for her foolishness and gave him a hesitant smile. “Dr. Ross did mention that your mother was in need of a companion,” she concurred, “but as I told him we may not suit. However, if you think…” Felicia broke off as she saw Lord Umber arch his brows in surprise.

“He did, did he?” Lord Umber said carelessly. “I wonder what gave him that notion, for I assure you, my dear Miss Richards, that position was not quite what I had in mind for you. No. I have something more worldly for you. Something I know you will enjoy.”

“I cannot think what you mean,” Felicia said, sniffling loudly in an effort to stem the tears that were forming in her eyes. His presence was becoming oppressive. She was very tired, her head ached, and she wished he would go.

Lord Umber was amused by Felicia’s behavior, although her pose was growing a bit tiresome. The role of the innocent damsel she had adopted was enticing. He silently handed her his scented, lace handkerchief and watched as she blew her nose furiously.

“I am prepared to buy you a small house,” he said dramatically, making the decision to negotiate openly with the girl. “In fact, I know of one available immediately, in Richmond. Very pretty little place, it is. I would staff it fully, of course, and…and…” he paused as he thought of what else he could offer, “and…and apart from kitting you out in the very latest style, I will make you a very generous allowance.” He stood back, well pleased with his generosity, and pondered the stir Felicia would cause when he presented her to his friends.

Felicia’s smile froze as she realized she had sadly misunderstood her benefactor. With a cry of indignation she snatched her hand away, only to be overwhelmed by Lord Umber’s strength as he gathered her into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers.

“Oh! my little beauty,” he whispered hoarsely in her ear, one hand exploring her body. “We shall deal famously together, you and I.”

Hot anger swept over Felicia. How dare he take such liberties with her. With a strength born of fury, she twisted away from the bombardment of fervent kisses.

Lord Umber looked down and saw that her fists were clenched, the knuckles a livid white. He was an experienced lover, and it was all too obvious that this woman’s reluctance was not feigned.

“How dare you, m’lord,” she cried out, her eyes flashing furiously as she quickly pulled herself away. “Whatever have I done to deserve that?” She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, as if trying to erase even the memory of his kisses.

“Don’t tell me you have never been kissed afore!” Lord Umber said abashed, a horrible suspicion growing in his mind.

Felicia lowered her head in confusion. Her heart was still beating rapidly, and the sensations his hand had caused in her body were perplexing. Frightening, yet not distasteful. “I cannot answer that, m’lord,” she said icily, “for I cannot remember. I can only tell you that I cannot recall ever having to endure such disrespect.” She spoke instinctively, an inner knowledge telling her that Lord Umber was behaving disgracefully.

There was a quiet dignity about her that made Lord Umber pause. It occurred to him that Jason Hobbs and the old woman might easily have misled him, deliberately or not. No doubt of her being from the servant class, but her responses to his advances left him convinced she was a virgin. Somehow, this enhanced her appeal for him…the kisses he had just stolen had been like nectar. He was eager for more.

Felicia stared at him aghast, feeling ill-equipped to deal with her conflicting emotions.

“I beg you to leave me alone,” she said quietly, her indignation made plain in her tone of voice. She felt shaken, as she recoiled instinctively from all Lord Umber’s overtures.

He looked at her intently. “I do believe you are serious,” he drawled, concealing beneath a vague smile the genuine surprise and embarrassment he felt at having forced himself on an innocent “I am sorry to have offended you. I do hope you will forget my suggestion and consider Dr. Ross’s proposal, for I have a feeling that you and mama will deal admirably together.”

Before Felicia could decide whether to reply to his insultingly casual apology, he was gone, throwing her a careless wave as he closed the door behind him. She stared at the door in annoyance. She certainly had no intention of remaining at Alverston to be further subjected to his loutish importunities.

Her mind made up, she got out of bed and gingerly walked to the closet. Once she was dressed, she thought, it would be easy enough to slip downstairs and out of the house. Finding a stagecoach stop might be difficult, but if it meant walking five miles she would gladly do so, for she was determined to have nothing more to do with the arrogant earl.