An Inconvenient Trilogy (37 page)

“I know, but at the moment, it doesn’t make it easier. Would you mind if I retired to my bed chamber? I suddenly feel the need to lie down,” Elizabeth said quietly.

*

Stephen’s horse needed to rest, but he pushed it on. He had to find her, she could not be dead. People tumbled out of carriages and survived, they had to. If she had not been at the location that she fell, then perhaps she had been hurt and wandered off in a daze. They needed to find her before nightfall, she could be feeling disorientated. Once he found her, he would tell her how worried he had been about his tiger and she would laugh at him and her eyes would twinkle as she smiled, and his chest would feel less tight and he would be able to breathe properly again. He had to find her.

Mr Dawson led them to the road, it was a rough area and at the side of the road, there were a number of stones. One clearly had fresh blood on it. The three men dismounted and looked at the stone, as if it would reveal its secrets.

Mr Peters was the first to move, beginning to search the surrounding ground. After a few moments he straightened. “There is no other indication of blood, which is a good sign,” he said.

“She can’t have gone far, she was injured and on foot,” Stephen said grimly.

“If she walked somewhere, she will have left some sort of trail. Look for any disturbance on the ground, footprints would be ideal, but I don’t think we’ll be lucky enough to find them. Look for broken branches over there in the woodland, or grass that has been flattened. Anything that would suggest that someone has walked through it,” Mr Peters directed.

Both men followed his lead and searched the area in detail. Every possible route was checked and rechecked for any sign that Charlotte had moved that way.

After half an hour Mr Peters called them together. “She did not leave here on foot,” he said, completely sure he was correct.

“How did she leave then? She was alone, and thrown from a carriage, for goodness’ sake!” Stephen snapped, his nerves stretched beyond breaking point.

“Someone must have come to her aid,” Mr Peters replied calmly, ignoring the tone of voice from Stephen.

“This isn’t a well used road by the state of the road and surrounding area,” Mr Dawson suggested, looking at the growth of grass between the ruts in the road. Nothing could grow on the busier roads.

“Then that should make things easier,” Mr Peters said. “I suggest you two gentlemen return to the house and I shall continue my enquiries.”

“I’m coming with you,” Stephen said belligerently.

“If she is injured, which the blood on the stone would suggest, she will need care when we return. From the look of the others, no one there is in any fit state to look after an injured person. If you go back and rest she will be able to rely on your help and support, should she need it,” Peters’ voice was calm but firm.

Stephen listened and after a very short time, he nodded his agreement and climbed onto his horse. “Peters?” he said.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Thank you.”

Chapter 19

Charlotte awoke to the sound of whispered voices. She opened her eyes slowly, trying to remember what day it was. She was sure it could not be morning, but not understanding why she would still be in bed.

“She’s awake,” a voice said and there was a flurry of activity at the bottom of her bed.

Charlotte tried to move her head, but a sharp pain at her left side made her wince.

“Don’t move my dear; you’ve been in a fall. You had us worried for a time, but the doctor was sure that you would wake,” came a soothing voice.

Charlotte struggled to recognise the voice, but she did not. The face that appeared over her was unfamiliar and Charlotte frowned. “Where am I? What happened?” she asked, reaching to feel the side of her face. The woman who tended her was around the age of forty, rotund in shape, but her heavily lined face was filled with nothing but concern for her young patient.

“All in good time, all in good time,” the soothing voice continued. “We can go over that when you feel more like yourself.”

Charlotte felt the pad of a dressing on her left cheek, which carried on to the side of her eye. She struggled to try and remember what had happened to cause such an injury. “Where am I?” she persisted.

“You are safe, in a farmhouse, just a mile or two outside of the village of Colerne.”

Charlotte frowned. Safe. She had felt safe recently. The feeling puzzled her, why had she needed to feel safe? It caused another feeling, one she could not quite grasp; it was just out of her reach. She was in a farm outside of Colerne. It was a place she had never heard of.

“I’m sorry, I must appear rude, I don’t remember ever visiting Colerne,” she explained, frowning as she tried to remember.

“You probably haven’t ever been here. You took a tumble a few miles away. We found you on the road and brought you back to the farmhouse. There was no sign of a horse, so it must have bolted when you fell. You need to rest; you’ve had a bump to the head.”

“It’s all so unclear,” Charlotte muttered, but the thought of resting was tempting, she felt very tired.

“You go to sleep and we can talk more later, but before you do I need to ask you one thing, do you remember your name?”

Charlotte smiled slightly, even though every movement seemed to hurt. “Of course I remember my name,” she replied sleepily. “I’m Miss Charlotte Webster of Miss Humphrey’s school for ladies.”

*

It was two long days before Peters returned to the worried residents of Dunham House. Stephen had been acting like a caged animal, pacing each room and needing to almost be physically restrained by Lord Dunham to prevent him taking off on a search of his own.

Peters looked exhausted when he returned and accepted the glass of brandy that Lord Dunham offered with a grateful look. Stephen had to bite back his impatience while the officer took a large swig.

Elizabeth entered the study where the three men were gathered and approached Mr Peters. “You look fit to collapse, but before we arrange food and rest, please tell us what you found.”

Peters breathed heavily. “She is alive,” he said simply.

Elizabeth sank down in her seat, suddenly realising that she had been holding her breath. “Thank God,” she whispered, fighting back tears of relief.

“Why did you not bring her back?” Stephen demanded roughly, almost joining Elizabeth in shedding tears, he felt so lightheaded.

“She is being cared for by a family on a remote farm. They must have come across her quite soon after the accident happened,” Peters explained, ignoring Stephen’s outburst. “They used the farm cart to transport her back and called the doctor when they returned. She was unconscious and had a head wound, so they didn’t have much hope of her recovery.”

Stephen took a sharp intake of breath. “But she lives?” he asked hoarsely.

“She lives and she has regained consciousness, which was in doubt when they first found her,” Peters explained. “She has a wound to the head. The doctor has told the family that she has been very lucky.”

“She has, to be alive after falling from a high speed carriage; it is little short of a miracle,” Michael said.

“I’ve spoken to the doctor and took the liberty of explaining a little of what happened,” Peters continued. “Without giving any details that would cause gossip of course,” he assured Lord Dunham.

“Of course,” Michael replied. He had barely met the officer, but he had total faith in his abilities. It could have something to do with the seriousness of his eyes, or the gravity of his demeanour. Whatever it was, Michael would have trusted him with anything.

“What did the doctor say?” Elizabeth asked, dreading the news that her friend could be permanently injured.  

“He said that the fact that the push from the carriage was so unexpected probably saved her life. She had no time to respond, to tense before she hit the ground, so the injury was minimal. In his opinion normally she would not have survived. He said with the continued help of God, she will be fine,” Peters explained.

“The man is a fool!” Stephen snapped. Until he had Charlotte back under the same roof that he was under, he would not settle and he would not apologise for his poor behaviour. The last two days had been the worst of his life and he needed to see Charlotte and tell her of his feelings. He had finally realised that he could not live without her in his life, and the need to tell her was driving him insane.

“We shall make arrangements for her return as soon as the doctor says she is well enough to be moved,” Michael said, ignoring Stephen’s outburst. He had some sympathy with what he imagined he was going through.

“There is something else,” Peters said cautiously, not meeting the penetrating glare emitting from Stephen.

“What is it?” Michael asked.

“She has told them that she is Miss Charlotte Webster from Miss Humphrey’s school of ladies,” Peters said calmly.

“What?!” Stephen exploded.

Peters did not flinch, but this time met Stephen’s eye. “She has lost the last few months’ memories. Whether it is permanent or not, the doctor does not know. He said that time will tell.”

Elizabeth turned to Stephen, “She will remember you as soon as she sees you,” she assured him. Her heart had twisted to see the pained expression on her friend’s face.

“Will she?” Stephen asked. For once his bravado had deserted him and he realised that he could have lost her even though she was alive. The feeling that she could forget him stung like nothing else he had ever experienced. He was desolate.

“Of course,” Elizabeth said firmly. “One does not forget such strong feelings, no matter what may happen.”

“If I may interrupt, Lady Dunham,” Peters said. “The doctor has advised only the minimum of visiting initially. He does not know what damage too much activity or excitement will cause to her brain.”

“We shall do nothing that would risk harming her,” Elizabeth said firmly. “I will visit her first and slowly she will return to us.” She turned to Stephen, “Patience, my friend, she will come back to us, I know she will.”

Chapter 20

Two days later Elizabeth set out with Violet to visit Charlotte. The carried with them flowers, fruit and cakes, along with the good wishes of most of the household. As they travelled in the carriage, the sight of Stephen prowling over the parkland stuck in Elizabeth’s mind. He had promised not to visit Charlotte, but she could see that such a promise had cost him dearly.

They arrived at the farmhouse, to be greeted by two barking dogs. The farmer’s wife came out to chastise the animals and greeted the two ladies with a smile. “Welcome to my home, I’m Mrs Hurst,” she said as they introduced themselves. “I’m not sure if Miss Webster will remember you, she is wearing herself out trying to remember everything since she realised that there are gaps in her memory.”

Mrs Hurst led the way through the large farmhouse kitchen that housed a cast iron range, a huge table and as many pots and pans as would grace any large residence. Beyond the kitchen was a small hallway from which stairs led upward, and a doorway to the parlour. Mrs Hurst indicated that the ladies should precede her.

“Please make yourselves comfortable, Miss Webster will be along shortly,” she explained.

Elizabeth and Violet settled on two of the chairs and waited. Very soon the door opened and Charlotte entered. She looked pale and a little drawn, the bandage on her head was very much in place and she moved more slowly than she had previously.

She smiled shyly at the two ladies sat before her. “Mrs Hurst has said that I have spent some time staying with you, but you will have to forgive me, I don’t seem to be able to remember,” she explained with embarrassment.

“It doesn’t matter that you can’t remember us,” Elizabeth said quickly reassuring her. “We can become acquainted again. What is important is that you are well.”

“Thank you, I am improving all the time,” Charlotte responded demurely.

“Oh Charlotte I am so happy to see you!” Elizabeth suddenly exclaimed, the relief of seeing her friend alive overcoming the need to be restrained and quiet.

Charlotte laughed at the outburst. “Thank you. I will continue try to remember everything. I am truly sorry that I can’t,” she said with a little frustration.

“Perhaps you are trying too hard,” Violet offered. “It may come back naturally with time.”

“That’s what the doctor has said,” Charlotte confessed, “but I am impatient. I’m having the strangest dreams you see and until I remember, I doubt I will be able to understand them.”

“Perhaps we could help?” Elizabeth offered.

Charlotte flushed a little. “I think if I voiced them, you would think I was mad,” she said. “It is more feelings I experience than actual events.”

“You forget that we do remember the last few months,” Violet said. “But we will not hurry you; you can tell us another day.”

Elizabeth gave Charlotte the presents, and started to name everyone who had sent their best wishes. “Miss Fairfield sends her love and I know she will want to visit soon. Lord Dunham wishes you well. Lord Halkyn is keen to see you back at Dunham House and Mr Anderton sends you his best wishes,” she said.

“They are all very kind,” Charlotte said. “Please send my thanks and my apologies.”

“So, no names sound familiar?” Elizabeth asked.

“No,” Charlotte said sadly.

“Well my dear, we shall leave you now to rest, but if you have no objections we shall return in a few days to see how you are faring,” Violet said, aware that she did not want to overtire the patient.

“You would be most welcome,” Charlotte responded politely.

The ladies left the farmhouse and were silent for the first part of their journey. The silence was finally broken when Elizabeth sighed.

“Poor Stephen,” she said with feeling. “I do not know how he will deal with seeing her, with Charlotte having no memory of him.”

“I do feel sorry for him, but maybe all is not lost. It is still early days,” Violet reassured Elizabeth.

“I hope you are correct. I don’t know how Stephen will cope, if she has forgotten him completely,” Elizabeth mused.

*

Over the following two weeks Elizabeth visited her friend every other day. Each time she was accompanied by either Violet or Miss Fairfield. Although Charlotte always seemed glad to see them, there did not seem any progress in her memory recall.

One day Elizabeth arrived alone. “Good afternoon Mrs Hurst, how is your patient today?”

Mrs Hurst smiled at Elizabeth, “She is looking forward to seeing you, as always, my Lady.”

As soon as Charlotte had been discovered at the Hurst’s farm, arrangements had been made to compensate the Hurst’s for their trouble. They had objected initially, but Elizabeth had in her easy way persuaded the family to accept payment for their care of her friend.

Elizabeth had been troubled since finding Charlotte and felt the need to speak to her alone. She had insisted that before Charlotte was brought back to Dunham House, she had to know what had gone on in the carriage. Elizabeth was not sure that Charlotte would easily forgive her for the part she had played in the incident.

Charlotte greeted Elizabeth when she entered the parlour. “Good afternoon,” Charlotte smiled. “Mrs Hurst has been showing me how to bake, so I hope you are hungry.”

“I am always hungry for cake!” Elizabeth said, sitting down on the chair.

“As long as you remember while you are eating it, that it is my first attempt, for you might think that there may be room for improvement,” Charlotte said with a grin.

The ladies ate their cake and drank tea while Elizabeth told Charlotte of the activities of Dunham House. She always mentioned Lord Halkyn, but there was never any sign that Charlotte remembered anything. When she had finished her drink, she placed her cup down and folded her hands in her lap.

“Charlotte I need to clear up something with you. It may cause you pain, and if you don’t want to see me after today I will understand,” Elizabeth started.

“Why would I not want to see you?” Charlotte asked puzzled. “You have been very kind to me.”

“Because I was the cause of your fall!” Elizabeth blurted out.

Charlotte frowned, “I thought there was a criminal involved? Mrs Hurst told me that the Officer who discovered that I had been brought here said that we had been held against our will. The criminal who was trying to hurt you pushed me out of the carriage while it was in motion. How could that be your fault?”

Elizabeth sighed, “The gentleman was keeping the information to a minimum to prevent any scandal being linked to my name, but it is only fair that you know the truth.”

“I’m listening,” Charlotte responded, sitting back in her seat.

Elizabeth explained who George was, and the history of her family. She went on to tell of the days up to the coach ride to attend the church and what had happened inside the coach. Finally, she explained what had happened when she had asked George to release her friend.

“I had no idea he would respond in such a way, but I should have known that he was at the point where he just didn’t care anymore,” Elizabeth said. “The sight of you falling out of the carriage I will never forget for as long as I live. I had thought that every eventuality had been discussed between myself and Michael, but we hadn’t thought that anyone with me would be put in such danger. We had wanted to prevent anyone else getting hurt.”

Charlotte thought for a few moments before she spoke. “I had hoped that by hearing the story, it might help, but my memory seems to be stubborn,” she started with a small smile. “With regards to your involvement, please don’t let it worry you, you acted in such a way to try to save me. Neither of us could have known what he was going to do. It wasn’t your fault.”

“You are generous,” Elizabeth said. “I just did not want us to become friends for a second time without you knowing the truth.”

“What happened to George?” Charlotte asked.

“I shot him,” Elizabeth said quietly.

Charlotte started to laugh, “Oh my goodness! Don’t ever let me get on the wrong side of you!” she said with a giggle.

Her words lightened the mood and Elizabeth left the farmhouse feeling as a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Charlotte could forgive her, which would go some way to enable her to start forgiving herself.

*

Eventually after some weeks, Charlotte began to look more like her old self, Elizabeth made a proposition. “You are stronger than when we first started to visit, why don’t you return to Dunham House and continue your stay with us?” she asked.

“But I don’t remember my stay,” Charlotte responded.

“I know, but perhaps if you return to familiar surroundings, it may help you to remember,” Elizabeth suggested. “After all, you have only known this farm since your accident.”

Mrs Hurst agreed wholeheartedly with the scheme. She was fond of her young guest, but realised that she would be more comfortable in a larger house with what she considered to be her own people.

All was arranged and Elizabeth and Miss Fairfield accompanied Charlotte on her return to Dunham House. Charlotte spent her time looking out of the window, trying to distinguish something in the countryside that would seem familiar.

“Don’t push too hard,” Elizabeth said soothingly. She could see the impatience on her friend’s face.

“It is so maddening to know that those around me will have memories which I won’t!” Charlotte said.

“Are you still having the dreams?” Elizabeth asked. They had not been mentioned since that first visit.

“Yes,” Charlotte replied. “They are feelings more than images. I feel safe when I can see a figure, but I have no idea who it is. Then I feel sadness, as if there is no hope, but about what I have no idea. There are horses and a carriage and I’m afraid, but I expect that I am remembering the accident. It is very confusing,” she explained with a shrug.

Elizabeth wondered if the figure was Stephen, but she could not say anything to Charlotte. It was not her place to interfere. She had told Stephen that he was welcome to stay as long as he wished, but once he had seen Charlotte, she was not sure if he would stay in the area. She did not know if he would be able to tolerate the torture of seeing Charlotte as a stranger.

Charlotte joined the family after lunch. She had been tired from the journey and had rested before meeting the rest of the party. She felt a little overwhelmed on entering the drawing room, but was greeted with smiles from the assembled group. There was one gentleman who did not smile, but watched her intently as she approached Elizabeth.

“Do you feel rested?” Elizabeth asked, indicating that Charlotte should join her on the sofa.

“Yes thank you,” Charlotte replied with a smile.

Elizabeth introduced Charlotte to everyone. She was hoping for some sort of recognition, but could detect none from her friend. She felt real sadness for Stephen as she saw the way he looked at Charlotte, as if he had been starved for months and she was the solution to his hunger.

Stephen could not have taken his eyes off Charlotte if he had tried. She looked paler and thinner than before, more demure than his tiger, but she was still beautiful. She was still his Charlotte, although the irony was not lost on him. She was less his now than she had ever been; she had no memory that he could tease her with. Only his memory held the kisses they had shared.

As soon as he could he left the gathering. Charlotte was not really taking part in the conversation, but she was listening intently to everything that was being said, obviously hoping that something would help. He could not bear to be in her company with the difference in her. He missed seeing the way she had looked at him, the way he had been able to make her blush.

Charlotte had noticed Stephen leaving and for some reason had felt the urge to follow him. She could not explain why. As soon as she could she left the gathering, hoping to find Stephen and try to find out why she felt drawn to him.

She met him at the bottom of the stairs; it was obvious he was going out riding.

“Are you leaving the gathering Lord Halkyn?” she asked, not really knowing what to say.

“Yes. The social niceties bore me,” Halkyn said in his usual bored tone. It had made him wince when she had used his formal title.

Charlotte frowned at his response, but he did not think that he had offended her, she was obviously thinking deeply. “No, you don’t like society much unless it is on your terms do you?” she said hesitantly.

Stephen’s heart skipped a beat, was she remembering? “Tell me more,” he said quietly.

Charlotte continued to frown. “I’m sorry my Lord, it was a fleeting moment, more a sense of something than a true recollection.”

“It is unimportant,” Stephen responded coolly. “If you will excuse me Miss Webster, I have many miles to cover.”

“Are you leaving?” Charlotte asked. His words had caused her heart rate to increase. For some reason that she could not explain, she did not want him to go.

“No, fool that I am, I am not leaving,” Stephen said with derision at his weakness, at being unable to leave the person that was causing him pain to be in the same company with. “I need a long ride that is all.”

“Forgive my delaying you,” Charlotte curtsied and moved to one side to let him pass.