“Yes he must,” she sighed, passing a cup to Finn. “This is an herbal tea for relaxation and pain relief. I made it for Mrs. Trimmer who is have some trouble with her back. But I believe we could both use a little relaxation right about now. And it will ease any pains you might be having.”
“Thank you.” He took the cup and sipped. “Mmm…honey. I remember some honey water when my throat was dry. It was ideal.”
“Youdidhave typhus, Mr. Finn, in answer to your earlier comment.” Hecate looked at him steadily. “You appeared to have been wandering in the forest for some time, because you were also malnourished. And there is a lump on the back of your head.”
He frowned, reaching up and finding it with a little wince. “Ah. Yes. There is indeed.”
“We wondered if perhaps you had fallen and hit yourself.”
“I have no memory of such an occurrence.” He tried the tea, blinked in surprise, and then drank more.
Pleased that he liked the tea, Hecate continued her gentle conversation. “We’ll let that rest for the moment, then. For the basic facts…you are presently in northern Devon. A small village lies nearby…Little Beechwood. Does that sound familiar at all?”
He thought for a few moments, then shook his head. “No. No, I’m afraid not.”
“Never mind. I am convinced your memories will return. And I am always right. My family will vouch for that fact.” She smiled.
He managed a grin. “You have family then?”
“I do indeed. Five brothers and sisters. All settled now, married and starting families. I am an aunt already and will be again, many times over I’m sure, within the next few years.”
He glanced at her. “Ridlington?”
“That is correct. My oldest brother is Baron Edmund Ridlington.”
“There’s something…that name…” He bit his lip in frustration. “If only I could recall…”
“Mr. Finn. Please do not fret overmuch.” Hecate leaned forward. “If it will help, I believe your memory loss was sustained when you injured your head. If that is the case, then it is not an uncommon event, and your memories will return, little by little, over time. Just be patient?”
He sighed. “I think it is safe to make one assumption, at least. I do not believe I am by nature a patient person.”
“I doubt if anyone could be, under these circumstances.” She sipped her tea, noticing he’d finished his. “But we will find a solution to your problems, I can assure you. And while we’re working on that, you will become healthy and strong; able to reclaim your life with vigour.” She leaned back. “I am sure. Very sure.”
“Mmmm…”
The tea had worked. Finn was sound asleep.
*~~*~~*
“And we still know nothing further?” Dal frowned at Hecate. They were sharing a meal by the fire, something they did from time to time, especially when there were things to discuss. Neither felt obliged to do so, but tonight, after ferrying a sound-asleep Finn back to his bed, they agreed to meet in the parlour and talk about what to do next.
Hecate shook her head. “He cannot yet remember much. For some reason, when I mentioned my family, that got a response. He knows the Ridlington name.”
“Hmm.” Dal looked thoughtful as he finished his meal. “We must begin to add up our small store of information. The facts we know…” He held up one hand and began to count off as he spoke. “First, he is a soldier.” One finger was bent over.
“But we do not have any identification as to his posting. Was he a Hussar? Or Light Infantry? Perhaps a Foot Guard…we simply can’t tell. It’s possible that the uniform he wore was borrowed or stolen.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I saw him in battle. And I’m convinced it was Waterloo.”
“I agree with your assessment. His bearing, manners…all speak to the military in his background. But the fact that your brother the Baron is a well-known naval officer, and Mr. Richard spent some time in Brussels before Waterloo…” Dal raised an eyebrow at her. “Perhaps a letter to those worthy gentlemen might obtain some useful results?”
“I’ve been hoping to avoid that,” she said ruefully. “If my family learns I have an unidentified man staying here, one who has no memory of anything and no name…well,someonewill come running to rescue me from the follies of my actions.” She sighed. “I’d prefer that not happen. At least not yet.”
Dal shrugged. “They are your family, Miss Hecate. Of course they will be concerned.”
“I know. And I love them for it. But it can become a little oppressive.”
“Which is why we’re here, so far away from Ridlington Chase?” His dark gaze rested on her face.
“In part,” she answered. “Yes, I did feel a little smothered by their care and attention. After all, we had not been very close as youngsters. It’s only since the old Baron died that we’ve learned so much about ourselves as a family.” Even now she could not bring herself to call himFather.
